Parallel World

Chapter 11

"Come to think of it, vampires are champions of clean living. We don't have problems with alcohol and drug abuse, good nutrition is no problem because we only have one source of food, we can't catch any diseases..." Chris said.

"Including STDs," Nolan added.

"Which, obviously, is very handy... We are law abiding citizens, apart from when we buy new fake IDs, commit tax fraud, seriously break the speed limit, et cetera, we don't pollute the environment, keep our promises and even donate to charity. Our lifestyle is so straight it makes we wanna puke! Is there anything bad about being a vampire?"

"Yes, we wander around at night and feed on human blood."

We all laughed. I'd just made my way to their table at Glory & Shame. Jack was DJing tonight and had no time to chat.

"What has happened to vampires? We used to be these fascinating mythical creatures. Since when have we become so mundane? If humans could see how modern vampires really live they'd soon lose all interest in us," Chris continued.

"Dude, if you're talking about paying bills and doing laundry then vampires, unless they live in the woods, have always done that," Nolan pointed out.

"Even hunting isn't what it used to be. Only a few of us can afford the luxury of only one victim. Firstly, you've got a body to dispose of, secondly, thanks to modern lifestyle and pollution human blood has started to taste rather awful. So I've got to take a pint from several people."

"If you're good at attacking and knocking someone out the victim won't even remember anything. And, luckily, we live in New York where people are used to random attacks. Win-win," Nolan concluded. "Naturally, that doesn't apply to criminals. I always suck them dry."

"Me too," Chris said and went quiet.

It seemed that he had either run out of stuff to complain about or got fed up with how quickly Nolan produced counterarguments.

Suddenly something white flashed in front of us and I heard Nolan's voice:

"Is it just me or it really smells of sulphur here?"

I deliberately looked at the floor first and then slowly cast my eyes up. White patent leather shoes, white tuxedo trousers, white tailcoat with golden embroidery, white shirt with a starched collar, white bow-tie and an ivory walking cane with a silver head depicting a roaring tiger. His face looked the same as always: narrow pinched lips with a permanent cruel vibe around them, sharp cheekbones, ice blue eyes, wide forehead and blond shoulder length hair that looked like it had been styled with cement instead of hair wax. I'd bet $1000 that should suddenly a hurricane blow through the club not a single hair would move on his head. In front of us was the biggest dandy in town, his royal highness Lance Mayerling.* Knowing his arrogance I was actually surprised he'd been so modest and didn't pick himself a posher surname - Habsburg, for instance.

Lance turned up from time to time to have a go at me and Jack, and criticise the club. In his opinion the entrance fee was an extortion, Slood prices at the bar were a robbery, the interior was tasteless and the music was beyond awful.

"Hello, Lucius, sorry, Lance," I giggled.

Lance frowned. It wasn't the first time I had "accidentally" called him like that. Lance hated being compared to Lucius Malfoy. I guess he didn't like Harry Potter either.

Lance gave us a look that could easily cover a Caribbean island with a thick layer of ice.

"Good evening, Elisa. Good evening, Chris. Good evening, Nolan."

His voice sounded suspiciously sweet. Like a poisoned nectar. He clearly wasn't here to announce he had set up a foundation to help disadvantaged kids or something.

"I heard you are interested in buying a share in Grosholt," Lance said.

Grosholt was a promising pharmaceutical start-up and I was going to buy a 20 % share there.

"How do you know that?" I asked.

This wasn't public knowledge and I had never discussed it at the club.

"Only an amateur doesn't keep an eye on his enemies," Lance declared. "Don't worry, there's nothing left for sale."

It took a few seconds to sink in.

"You bought it, didn't you?" I was fuming.

"Of course I did," he said and gave me such a smile that if I were human it would have given me goosebumps.

That deal would have earned me $16 million in a year on an original investment of $2 million.

"You're such a bastard!" I hissed.

That only made him grin more. What could I say that would wind him up? What a pity that Jack wasn't here. He was really good at throwing insults and forcing Lance to storm off.

Luckily, Nolan came to rescue.

"Lance, isn't it the time of the month? You know, time to go to LA? By the way, do you have fun with any of your victims before you kill them?"

I had no idea what he was talking about and Lance didn't look like he'd be making any comment. His face changed, suddenly he didn't look so proud anymore. Lance gave us another icy look and hastily left.

"Does anyone care to explain what just happened?" I asked.

"You didn't know?" Chris sounded surprised. "Lance goes to LA to feed. He targets young girls who've come to conquer Hollywood - models, actresses, singers. He pretends to be either a talent agent or a producer to lure them in his trap."

I couldn't believe what I had just heard.

"And this man tries to tell me that selling synthetic blood is bad! What a wanker!" I exclaimed.

I sank deeper into the red velvet sofa and folded my arms. I was boiling inside - both because of the Grosholt deal and because Lance had turned out to be an even bigger asshole than I thought.

"The main disadvantage of being a vampire - thou shall not see your enemies drop dead!"

"I wouldn't be so sure about it..." Nolan objected yet again. He seemed to disagree with Chris about everything tonight. "Have you ever met anyone who is more than 400 years old?"

"I've met vampires who claimed to be from Ancient Rome but when I asked them a few basic questions about Roman politics or everyday life I could tell they were lying. The oldest vampires I know were all born in the 17th century," I said.

"What conclusion can we come to based on that?" Nolan asked.

"What if eternal life isn't eternal after all?"

"That would be really annoying. It took me years to get used to being immortal. Now you're telling me that maybe I'm a mere mortal," Chris sounded grumpy.

"Look on the bright side, my friend," Nolan continued. "If we're all mortals then so is Lance. Poor thing. If he kicks the bucket there will be no shortage of folk willing to spit on his grave. I envisage a mile long queue."

This thought cheered us all up.

*The Habsburgs were the Austrian royal family. They had a hunting lodge in Mayerling village.