Home > Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)(12)

Fashionably Dead (Hot Damned #1)(12)
Author: Robyn Peterman

“What in the hell are you guys?” I stared harder and they started to morph into hideous itsy-bitsy monsters. They were fabulously gross, kind of like the Edvard Munch painting, The Scream. They were undulating and mocking me. Well, no surprise there . . . I was still in bed at 6:30 PM.

Sleeping during the day seemed to be working for me. I felt a little bit like a lazy sloth, but I had more energy and felt stronger at night. More importantly than adjusting to my new schedule, I had successfully avoided my mother for a week. She thought I had the flu and pink eye. She hated sick people, so there was very little chance of a surprise visit.

Truth be told, I was scared to be around my mother, or any mortals, except for Gemma. I was terrified I was going to kill someone by accident and that would suck, although Pam said as long as I fed regularly, I’d never have to kill anybody. Ever. The first hunger was the worst and no others would even compare. Thank God.

I guess I had always imagined Vampyres to be bloodsucking killers. It turns out we’re only bloodsuckers. The killing is optional. So naturally I still hadn’t fed from a mortal yet. I’d been feeding from Pam, but that was going to change. Too much Angel blood was going to make me a Super Vamp, and according to Pam, that was fucked up.

Along with being my main food source, Pam was trying to help me get the Green Eye thing down, also known as ‘trancing’. I preferred just Green Eye. If I looked at a human, focused my power and willed my eyes to go green, I could get inside their head and make suggestions. For example; “Hi, I’m going to bite your neck, drink about a pint of your blood . . . you’ll really enjoy it. You won’t remember a thing and you should never wear orange again. It makes your skin look like hell, bless your heart.”

“Look at me,” I said to the little undulating things on my ceiling. They halted their gyrating and stared at me. I willed my eyes to go green and tried to communicate with them. Nothing. Clearly I’d lost my mind when I died. “So much for you guys being human,” I muttered, rolling out of bed.

There are certain things that make your eyes go green automatically. Being extremely hungry, angry, excited or horny turns you green real quick. I tried to Green Eye Gemma a couple of times, but we both laughed so hard I gave up. Gemma graciously offered to let me feed from her, but I wanted to be sure I definitively knew all the human artery information before I bit into my best friend’s wrist.

That was how most Vampyres fed. At the wrist. The neck was too sexual. However with Pam, it wasn’t sexual at all. Embarrassingly enough, it felt kind of like nursing with her. She held me like a baby. I bit her neck and felt love and comfort. I supposed you should just get it where you could find it.

Vamps could drink from each other, but that was a commitment most were not willing to make. If two Vampyres drank from one another, they were mated for life. Physically, mentally, emotionally, and sexually committed to each other for eternity. They must continue to drink from each other regularly.

To me that sounded like hell. I had commitment issues. It wasn’t that I was a slut, but I couldn’t imagine having sex with the same person for a thousand years or more. Not that I’d had a ton of sex with a ton of people, nor did I plan to. However, the flip side suggests that the blood exchange between Vampyres creates the most mind blowing, intensely orgasmic sex imaginable. That gave me pause, but not enough to be stuck with the same person forever.

“You guys are gross,” I told the dirty dancing tiny monsters on my ceiling. I was amazed they were still there. I thought they were an optical illusion. They were so ugly they were cute, but the dirty dancing . . . that was not something I needed to see first thing in the morn . . . no, evening . . . wait . . . well, ever.

***

What in the hell was Pam doing? On my couch sat two of the most bizarre-looking Vampyres. I was pretty sure they were Vampyres. Wait . . . fangs. They were definitely Vamps. Pam was running around the room making gagging noises and huge raspberries. Which, by the way, sounded so much like the real thing, I had to check to make sure she was using her mouth.

Vampyre number one, who I dubbed Muffy, was dressed from head to toe in hot pink and lime green madras, a la bad country club circa 1980. Vamp number two looked like her name should be . . . Elvira. She had black hair, black fingernails, black lipstick, black eyes, black clothes . . . blah blah blah. She looked as Goth as they come, and seriously depressed. They both had their eyes trained on me and only me. That was when I realized they couldn’t see Pam. This was confirmed when my three hundred pound Guardian Angel sat on top of Muffy, and Muffy didn’t move or utter a sound.

Not only could I see Pam, but I could touch her and hold her and drink blood from her. God, this was strange.

Muffy, the prepster, plastered a huge pageant smile on her face and squeaked, “Hi! I’m Muffy from the Aurora House.” Oh my God, I got her name right? “You must be Astrid!”

It was all I could do not to slap my hands over my ears. Pam had no such qualms. As Muffy spoke, her voice got higher and higher. I was sure she was sending signals to all the stray dogs in the surrounding counties. I kind of wanted her out of my house, but she had a really big gift basket. “Did you two just break into my house?” In all the movies Vampyres had to be invited in.

“Oh no,” she squeaked, “the door was wide open and there was a note that said ‘Welcome’. I suppose I should have called first,” she shrieked. “I didn’t realize you were having Paris Hilton over.”

   
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