Read Page 47

We were sitting on my porch, legs and shoulders touching.

I didn't mind touching Fang. I'd always liked Fang, and even now, I considered him one of my very best friends. What he thought about me, I didn't know. Especially not now, not with his mind closed to me.Advertisement

He had asked if we could talk alone. And with both kids home, alone meant sitting outside.

"You're looking lovely as always, Moon Dance," he said.

"Why thank you, Fang," I said.

I couldn't say the same for him. Unsurprisingly, he looked gaunt and pale. Unhealthy, at best. It was unusual for him, as he had always appeared the picture of health and vitality. He'd always been a good-looking guy, even back when I knew him only as my bartender.

Now, I found him sickly-looking. His once-handsome face was now skull-like. His cheeks sunken. Eyes dark hollows. Skin waxy. He was, I suspected, a living corpse. No doubt he was very much in need of a feeding.

"You look, um, well," I said.

He chuckled. "Bullshit. I still haven't had my first feeding, and I've only now recovered enough to function."

I motioned to the Cadillac, where Detective Hanner sat quietly. "I assume she will provide you with your first feeding."

"You assume correctly. We're heading to her place now, and then...elsewhere."

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I snapped my head around. "Where?"

"I don't know yet. But somewhere not close."

"Why?"

Fang looked down at his hands, which he was opening and closing as if he was getting used to his body all over again. Or perhaps the thing inside him was getting used to Fang's body.

I shuddered.

"She's going to teach me, Sam."

"Teach you what?"

"The one thing you were never taught, what you struggled with daily. What I did my best to help you understand." He looked at me. "She's going to teach me how to be a vampire. Her and others like her."

"What is this place?"

He shook his head. "She didn't tell me much. But it appears to be a sort of coven of vampires."

Coven of vampires? I reached out and took his cold hand. Jesus, is that what I felt like?

"She's going to teach you to kill, Fang."

He said nothing, although he did squeeze my hand back.

"She's going to teach you to kill innocent people. How to manipulate them, hurt them, take from them. She's going to teach you how to use them."

"I owe her everything, Moon Dance," he said, and now released my hand. "I owe her my life."

"No, you don't."

He moved away from me, just a few inches, but it might as well have been a few hundred feet. "She gave me the one thing that you wouldn't."

"I never denied you, Fang. I still needed to think about it. It wasn't an easy choice."

"For her, it was."

"Because she's using you, Fang. She's going to train you to be a killer. To kill for her. For them. Don't let them use you."

"They gave me everything I ever wanted - something you never would."

"But that doesn't mean you have to kill for them."

"They never said anything about killing, Moon Dance. They only want to help me, to teach me, to help me adjust."

"For what purpose, Fang?"

"I'll worry about that later, Moon Dance."

We were quiet. Sitting in the driver's seat was Detective Hanner. Her head was back. She appeared to be sleeping, but I suspected she was watching us. Indeed, every now and then I could detect a slight glow from her eyes. The flame within.

"I loved you, Moon Dance."

"Loved?" I said, wincing at the past tense.

"Yes, loved. But you didn't return my love. Not really. But most important, you didn't trust me. You feared me on some level. And you denied me the one thing I wanted most in this world."

"Exactly," I said. "So, how could I know if your love for me was real, or an infatuation?"

He turned his head and looked at me sharply. I saw the deep pain, but I also saw something else. Deep resentment. "You knew, Sam. You knew better than anyone how I felt about you."

And with that, he stood. He was about to walk away when he paused and, without looking at me, said, "Goodbye, Moon Dance."

He was about to leave when I reached out and grabbed his cold hand. "Wait."

He waited, still not looking at me.

I held his hand, which hung limp in my own. I debated on how much to say, what to say, and in the end, I could only say, "Goodbye, Fang."

He stood there for a second or two, then released my hand.

And left.

The End

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