BOYS OF THE NIGHT - #14


Nick returned to the beach at dusk, frightened yet anxious. He sat down in the exact same spot, looking towards her house, waiting.
He was tense and nervous. Today, even the waves couldn't calm him. He stared out into the ocean, watching the sea-green tide carry white foam over it's surface.
"Hey," a small voice came behind him.
He whipped around, a broad smile on his face. This time, he didn't try to conceal his fangs. "Hi, Barb."
"What's up?" she asked, her lean body clothed in a baby tee and flared jeans instead of a revealing bikini. She carried his jacket in one hand.
"Nothing," he replied edgily, as if she suspected something. "You?"
"Oh, I dunno," she said sitting down next to him. "I met this kid the other day. What was his name? Oh, yeah. How could I forget? Nick Carter. You know, the Backstreet Boy." Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but she was smiling. "Why wouldn't you tell me that? It's kinda a big deal."
"I thought... I thought it would be a bad idea. It's something I don't go around saying. That's basically asking to be mobbed, ya know? I'm sorry. You wouldn't understand how it can be. Fame, I mean."
"Oh, it's alright. I meet HUGE celebrities on dark nights who lie about their identities all the time. It's the norm," she joked. Nick shook his head, smiling. She was quiet for a while, staring at the sand. "Hey, here's your jacket," she said reluctantly. He put up a hand to stop her.
"No, keep it. The tour's over, I'll just get a new one next summer. Besides, Florida's too hot for leather."
"Are you sure?" she asked, clutching the jacket to her body happily. He nodded. "God, you're so nice. I never-"
"You know nothing about me or the group. Never is not a word to use with us. Never EVER say never."
She was taken aback momentarily by his authoritarian tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
Nick looked at her, his blue eyes shining with the reflection of the moon. "You didn't. I'm just nervous."
"About what?"
Nick was silent. He reached out and touched her face with his gentle fingers. "How would you feel if you were offered immortality? I mean, tonight - how would you feel?" he asked finally.
She gave him an odd look. "What the hell are you talking about?"
He moved towards her, brushing his lips against hers. Her heated skin aroused his vampiric senses and it took every ounce of will he had to keep himself from biting her, sucking out her life, right then, right there. His fangs grew to their size, reacting to the feel of live flesh. He deepened the kiss, wanting to make it last. Their tongues danced together in the age old ritual of courtship and Nick felt her relax in his grip. He pulled out of the kiss slowly, almost regretfully, and brushed away the long strands of hair that hung over her neck... his hand touched her artery - her life force, and he shivered with the aching need of her blood. Without warning, he sank his fangs into her flesh.
She gasped and pushed her arms out straight, shoving his shoulders away. But Nick sank his long fangs in deeper, and then pulled out, letting the thick blood spray into his hungry mouth. He moaned in what seemed like pleasure; blood was the vampire's orgasm.
Eventually she stopped her futile struggling, feeling the connection between them. She knew what he was now. And though she was terribly afraid of dying, she let him take what he wanted.
He closed his eyes, suddenly understanding what the others talked of so often - the thrill of the kill, the passion of the dying life. But in his mind, a small, yet influential voice, told him to stop. It worked its way from a whisper to a scream, warning him about her impending death.
Nick groaned and removed his mouth from the wound. He put a hand over the two fang marks, healing them with his magical touch. He couldn't do this. It was wrong. He couldn't kill her. It wasn't his choice to take her precious life. He cradled her gently; her body weak in his arms. She was unconscious now from the blood loss.
With a shaking hand, he rubbed a thumb over her tender cheek, now colorless. "You're not ready to die, are you?" he whispered.
He realized why he loved her so much as she lay there, helpless. He loved her life - something he lacked now. She had vibrance, beauty. As he had many times since his embrace, he felt hot tears run paths down his face.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, baby."
Her pulse was weak, yes, but it was there. And while it was there, so was her life. Nick could save her - he'd pulled out at the right time. Now he had to get her home.
He looked about frantically for a pay phone of any kind, and spotted one, near a bench, a mere twenty feet away. He lifted her up gently, staring at her still angelic face.
"Don't worry... Kevin will know what to. Kevin. SHIT."
Nick looked at her, then at the phone. My death, her death. My death, her death, he weighed in his mind. He laid her on the bench and dragged a quarter out of his pocket and tossed it in the slot, knowing all too well what would happen at home when he walked in. My death then, he thought bravely.
He dialed in a number and waited as the machine picked up.
"Welcome to Delta Airlines. If you would like to schedule a fight, please press 1 -"
He slammed a finger on the button.
"Hello, this is Erika. You've reached Delta Fight Scheduling, how may I help you?"
"Erika, I need two tickets to Orlando. For tonight. Like, right now..."