Black dust sprayed all over the room, darkening her already dark hair and resting in peace on the white floor.
Hutchu!
Or in her nose.
Today marked the fifth day Jane visited this cube of a room; 8 days left before the hunt.
She had gone to Jim's class – all along the way practiced saying "Jim! What a coincidence" – but he wasn't even there.
Frustrated, Jane pushed the pin, and inevitably her hand, into the creature's neck. She hated touching the thing, loathed its deceiving look. Every tiny particle composing its body promised a dry, airy sensation, but no. It was dense… fragile, and moving, like there were a thousand living ants that should be scratched and squeezed.
No wonder Ryan used a gun.
She tried to invent her own weapon once. It was a stolen cutlery knife whose blade was tied to the pin using a specialised string she borrowed from the medical room. Undoubtedly, the attempt ended horribly with a ripped shirt and a lesson to learn: never turn her back on enemies no matter how stupid they seemed.
That same experience also shut down her brilliant idea of feeding her blood to conjure the shape-shifting creature. She was not ready for it,
So for now, this pepper-looking monster was a good enough exercise.
The creature stretched its arm forward only to catch the empty air. Jane's skirt drew a clean circle in the air and sliced across the creature's stomach as her feet "waltzed" on the floor.
Movements came naturally when her body knew how to coordinate. No more half-stretched elbows, no more arms forgetting to work, and farewell wondering about when and where to make a move. Every action counted, especially this one.
The pin went into the base of its neck, pushing forward the end of its skull, ending the one-person tango.
That spot was called the cerebellum, or the "second brain". She remembered it specifically because her primary teacher kept shouting at the boys for hitting each other in that dangerous area.
Jane wondered if it would work the same way for Jack, or should she avoid that spot to prevent ending up in juvenile prison. Or none of that would happen at all, and he would forget to find her.
Jane's hysterical expression dropped as she arrived at Jim's class. Students started to pour from the classroom door, eagerly wanting to leave, none of whom was the one she wanted to find.
"Excuse me," Jane said, catching up to the two girls with the red pins. "Is Jim not in class today?"
"Oh, he's probably at the club."
✦✦✦
On the way there, Jane had a lot of… questions.
Money was the first thing that came to her mind. 1448$ for the entry-level set, including a single bottle of premium Rose Champagne and a fruit bowl. 75$ for every custom cocktail ordered at the bar. And hundreds to thousands more if they wanted to add Shisha or Helium to the table. According to Arlo, those blood tasted extra good.
There was also a special menu reserved for vampires, one that included specifications like age, height, hair color, and blood type.
Actually, those options could extend to everybody.
The second was connection. A guest must be brought in by a member until they become a frequent visitor themselves. She hadn't spent much money here—Jane thought so—though her heart skipped a beat when she thought about her one-month amnesia.
Shutting all the irrelevant thoughts down, she tapped the card against the reader. A green light chased itself around the rectangular box, followed by a high-pitched beep.
All it took was one more push on the handle. But Jane hesitated. Her eyes rested on the simple metallic card in her hand—elegant, beautiful and generous like its owner.
She hadn't sorted out her messy thoughts yet, hadn't figured out if she wanted to stir things up when both of them had gone back to their lives?
The heavy door was pulled inward; the cool air blended into the hallway, ending her last chance to turn around.
"Welcome back, Ms. Jane. May I guide you to your lounge?"
"No. I will find it myself," she smiled gently, stepping through the space between the guards.
Unlike the hologram cubes of the future, or the stars of the universe, the club put on a different coat today. Red lights poured down from the ceiling, unable to shine through the darkest corners of the space. Velvet curtains lined the wall that glistened under the lights. Candle sticks on the wall that barely warmed the space.
Blending into the crowd, her eyes carefully swept across every face and table in the sitting areas. The music was also different; every beat was low and dangerous, with underlying electronics that reminded Jane she wasn't in a gothic castle.
Her gaze uncontrollably drifted toward her usual spot. Samuel and Arlo were there, seemingly having a good time, and left just as quickly before Samuel and Arlo could notice, to land in the opposite direction.
She found Jim. But he wasn't exactly where she had expected him to be, nor was he acting how she had imagined.
Half of his face was buried in a girl's neck who wore a low, open corset with laces chasing along the curves of her fullness. The girl's face was hidden behind a mask—the most basic level of service in the special menu.
Jane's stomach turned. A part of her thought a vampire must feed; the other part was protesting, repulsed by the sight of Jim's features twisted into something so lewd… and raw.
Just as Jane forced herself to look away, she caught something she hadn't paid attention to before. A pair of eyes—no two, three, multiple of them, scattered around where the light didn't hit, fixing on Jim at the center. And the best spot to watch was reserved for the last face she wanted to see right now—James.
"Look who I found!"
Following the unfamiliar voice was a sudden weight dropping onto her shoulders. Jane looked down at the heavy hands, visibly annoyed. Even her mother wouldn't touch her like this, so who was this ill-mannered stranger?
Jane tracked her gaze upward, from the hand so white it absorbed the red lights to an arrogant chin, belonging to a face that wasn't unfamiliar after all. It was Amelia's boyfriend.
All made sense now, or rather, everything had risen so close to the surface that she could no longer ignore it.
Their little four-person group was never real—just a facade made up for her. For what reason Jane didn't know; she only knew that this was Amelia's original circle and the girl would undoubtedly be here tonight too, if it weren't for her bald head.
Breaking away from his grip, Jane walked towards the lounge. The view became clearer as her eyes adapted and her focus moved away from Jim.
Sitting around the table was a combination of vampires and their familiars. There was a female vampire, whose courtesy was ignored as Jane couldn't even force a smile.
Right next to her sat James. There was fresh blood dripping near the corner of his mouth, the mark of a newly fed vampire. Yet the sunken, dark circles beneath his eyes made it seem as though he was the one who had been sucked dry.
Breaking their eye contact, Jane stepped on the stairs leading to the raised platform.
Never interrupt a vampire's meal.
Someone must have told her so. But the weight of James's stare, the exciting looks from all the others, and her stupid guilt were pushing her closer to the main stage.
"Let's go," she said, her shadow cascading over the two figures intertwining.
Jim didn't move, didn't even blink. His spine hunched low, as if it wanted to burst right out of his shirt. And his hands, they were clamping behind the girl's back to shove her harder against his mouth.
"Let's go, Jim," Jane repeated. Her hand rose halfway into the air before it quickly retreated, fingernails digging deep into her own palm. Then the fist burst open. She seized the collar of his shirt, twisting the fabric tight for better grip and pulled him backward.
An animalistic snarl tore from his throat—a sound Jane could no longer associate with anything human, nor were the sharp teeth poking out of his mouth. She instinctively stepped back until her calves touched the cold edge of the table.
"Can I please talk to you? Somewhere else? "
Her voice was firm and steady, but if anyone had listened closely enough, they could have told she had been holding her breath.
"Huh," he scoffed, and like a beast slowly finding its voice, the words coming out of its mouth only served to stir more blood in the air.
"Now you want to see me? Remember when I came begging for you, remember what you said?"
Replying to his anger was nothing but silence, and a bewildered Jane.
Suddenly, his expression shifted. His eyebrows drew together while he pleaded to her using those bottomless, black eyes.
"Please, Jane. Please," he hysterically sobbed. "Just a little bit. It won't harm you. I haven't had anything for days."
Jane froze. She remembered—everything.