Count

15. Time Crawls Steadily Onward

When Inari had opened the bathroom door in that hotel room, her apprehension was clear: she knew.

I had cursed myself for allowing Boris to enter, for not making doubly sure we were out of earshot before speaking. Now everything between Inari and I was ruined. Part of me was relieved that the truth had come out, however painfully; I was sick of lying to her. But I feared that we would never recover from the blow.

It wasn't as if a relationship between us was ever a real possibility, anyway. Inari was a human, and I an immortal demon. It was probably for the best that it ended before we became sincerely attached.

This was of no comfort to me.

On top of my heartbreak, the news of Di Sangro's death had shocked me to the core. He was the one who had made me a vampire, and though there was little love lost between us, he had been a continuous presence in my life since childhood. It was hard to believe he was gone.

Inari had told me she needed time to think, and I granted it to her, expecting that I'd never see her again. I had no choice. She'd looked at me like I was a monster.

I felt monstrous in the days following. Despairing of hope, I fantasized about dragging her back to my lair and making her mine. Locking her in a cell so she could never leave me. Biting and turning her so she could live with me forever, mine to use whenever I pleased. Isn't that what monsters did? Wouldn't a sick parody of the connection I craved be better than nothing at all? Now that my true nature had been revealed to her, she would never see me as a man worth her affection.

But I knew such a future would be hollow, bringing nothing but pain to either of us.

Weeks passed. I was tempted to contact Inari on many occasions, but this temptation I managed to resist. I would leave it to her to reach out to me if she so desired.

I had endured for decades, yet in times like these, every hour seemed an eternity. I couldn't say that I abandoned my life—if I had ceased working, I would have truly gone insane—but I went through the motions with an aching emptiness.

I wished for the chance to explain myself to Inari, yet I feared it would never come. "Never," "couldn't," "if only": these words centered in the lamentations of my fate that circled through my mind without end.

Markus was in London for the week, and he begged me to join him one morning (which by vampire reckoning is equivalent to a human's evening). "You've been depressed for a month now," he said. "I know it's not usually your style, but come out with me and have some fun. It might take your mind off of things."

Tired of monotony and of feeling sorry for myself, I relented.

A vampire owned the club Marcus took me too, but Enlightened made up most of the staff. The club's entry and main body were underground, with the human offices in the sunlight. It was in a seedy neighborhood where a few missing humans would draw no attention.

We flashed our fangs at a bouncer to gain entry.

A smiling woman in a low-cut top and too much makeup greeted us. "Are you here for something sexual, a feeding package, or just dancing?" she asked. A board behind her listed the club's services and prices like options on a hellish menu.

"I'd like to get drunk," Markus said. "I wouldn't mind spending the first few hours in the club, though."

Vampires could not get drunk by conventional means, but that isn't to say we did not have our vices. Getting "hunger drunk" was a pastime that some vamps were addicted to, but in which I rarely indulged. It consisted of starving oneself all day to the point of mild fog and bloodlust. Our hunger was different from that of mortals—not so much painful as delirious. This half-crazed state, and the high of feeding that followed, could be intoxicating.

In a few hours, Markus would be taken to an isolation room stocked with entertainment: television, magazines, his own phone. There he would wait, growing frantic and dazed with hunger as the time passed. At the peak of this pleasurable deprivation, human prey would be released into the room. Then he would feed.

"Just dancing for me," I said.

"Of course. You'll find plenty to entertain you in the dance hall," she said suggestively.

Markus paid her upfront, then we followed her to another room where four women and two men in trashy outfits sat, handcuffed. They stood as we entered.

I wondered about them. Where had they come from? How had they ended up here, ready to die for a vampire's evening of pleasure? I mentally shook myself, uncomfortable. It was thoughts like these that prevented me from enjoying practices such as the one Markus planned to engage in.

"Choose your meal for later," our guide said.

The humans avoided our eyes. Markus picked out a tall, blonde girl who was then taken away. Then we followed the sound of thumping music to the club's main room.

Depressions set into the ground rimmed the dance floor; they were square, intimate, and lined with couches. At one end of the room, two strippers wound athletically around poles. Strobe lights pulsing to the music did little to illuminate the space, but that was likely intentional.

Markus and I reclined in one of the depressions, and immediately, two women descended on us. The first took our drink order; the second lounged next to me and ran her hand up and down my chest.

"I'm not in the mood," I said over the music.

"Oh, come on, live a little!" said Markus.

The woman straddled my lap. "I bet I could change your mind."

The server returned with our drinks: booze for Markus, A- for me.

"I'm going to dance," he told me, setting down his glass. "Get a lap dance or something." He disappeared into the sea of grinding bodies.

"How much?" I asked the woman. She named her price, and I forked over the cash.

I sipped my drink as she twisted sensually above me, displaying her curves. She was pretty, though not nearly so as Inari.

Markus returned with a girl who immediately set to sucking him off when he sat down. They were indistinct shapes in the darkness.

I was in a den of sin, surrounded by every enticement, yet I couldn't get Inari out of my head. This was pointless. "Thank you for your time," I said, removing the woman from my person, "but I'd best be going."

"You still have five minutes left," she protested.

"Nevertheless." I shoved some bills in her direction and stood.

Markus paused fucking his girl's face long enough to spread his arms in confusion. "We just got here!"

"And now I'm leaving." I drained my glass. "Have a good time. Call me before you leave London." With that, I wound through the crowd to the exit.