So I'm a Vampire... Now What? - Book 2 (Original Version)

Chapter 6.1: Seducing the Vampire

Beatrice threw open the huge church doors like she was Aragorn, and Peter Jackson had just called "action." If you don't get the reference because you haven't seen the movie, let's just say that she walked through the church doors like a badass. It would have been more epic if she had managed to stride through the opening doors, right down the center, but we had knocked back about ten bottles of tequila between the two of us, and she was slightly drunker than I was. As a result, she stumbled her way into the church, one, two, three stumbling steps, before she managed to regain her balance. She smiled sheepishly and raised her almost empty bottle of tequila.

"Welcome!" she proclaimed. "Welcome to Saint Fatima, Our Lady of Shadows."

I half expected there to be a flash of lightning and a roll of ominous-sounding thunder, but instead, there was only the sound of pigeons taking flight in the darkness above us. The pigeons obviously lacked any sense of drama or cinema and completely missed their cue to act like they were in a John Woo film.

I was a little less drunk than Beatrice, a wonderfully heady feeling since proper drunkenness is hard to attain as a vampire. I'd thought to ask her if she knew about that drink Frankie had produced but was having difficulty remembering the name and Beatrice had no idea what I was talking about. So we'd ended up drinking tequila.

I stumbled my way into the church and immediately parked my ass onto the closest wooden pew.

"Aren't we supposed to burst into flame or something?" I asked. "You know, the vampire-church type lack of connection type thing?"

"Not unless they changed the rules without telling me," Beatrice said and took a deep swig. "I own this place, so they'd better not have done that. That would be shitty."

I took another look at the church, trying to see with fresher eyes now that I knew Beatrice's connection to it. She had insisted that the taxi pull over and let us out right now, she had to show me something, and had shoved a handful of bills at the driver, way too much for what we owed him, but she was pretty excited. I had just followed along, wondering why the hell we were going to an obviously abandoned church in this shitty neighbourhood. The church itself was over 100 years old, the brass plaque outside announcing the year of 1876. Maybe gothic, but I wasn't exactly an expert on architecture. It was big, there was a lot of what I assumed was concrete, and the windows were boarded up. There was also a surprising lack of graffiti anywhere on the church, which was odd, considering we were in a part of the city notable for spray-painted murals and random acts of tagging, Even the tags usually get tagged. It was pure insanity.

In the nave, all but the two back rows of pews had been removed a long time ago, darker areas of the floor showing where they had once been. There was now a circle of eight chairs close to where the altar once stood, a shaft of light streaming down from the fully intact and beautiful stained glass windows on the back wall.

"It's a spotlight," Beatrice said, noticing me looking at the light. "It's more dramatic that way. I had all the windows boarded up from the outside, but this way I get it to look awesome any time I want."

I half-expected there to be a layer of dust over everything, but I was sorely disappointed. The place looked like it had been dusted, mopped and properly cleaned very recently. There was the unmistakable smell of Pine-Sol in the air.

Two ten-foot-tall statues flanked the altar.

One of the statues depicted an angel with wavy hair, it's right arm pulled back in the act of delivering a killing blow with the ten-foot javelin in its hand. Its other hand pointed to the target, which happened to be me, and his face was twisted in fury and determination, an angel of the Lord fulfilling the most basic task of being a soldier. I wondered if his finger of doom would follow me around the room just like the Mona Lisa's eyes were supposed to do.

The other statue was of what might have been a depiction of the Virgin Mary, calm and benevolent, robes flowing down her form. She had been cast in bronze, and it had tarnished over the years until she seemed, in this light at least, to be made of shadows.

"Nice," I said approvingly, not knowing what response she was looking for. Why had she been so excited to show this to me anyway?

"This is one of my favourite places," Beatrice said. "There are a lot of memories here, good memories. I used to like to come and sit up in the rafters where no one could see me and just listen to them sing. That's one thing that stays the same even over the centuries, you know. The hymns never seem to change, so I always knew the words. It's a great comfort when you get older, to know that no matter how much the world changes, you're always going to know the words."

"That was deep and coherent," I said. "You're losing your buzz."

I could feel the effects of the tequila wearing off as my body metabolized the alcohol way too quickly. I had already been drunk for an hour, so it had only been a matter of time, but still, I had hoped it would last longer.

"It's just tequila. We can always get more tequila."

"I'll drink to that," I said and drained the last of the bottle into my mouth. I let the final drop form on the lip of the bottle, hang there for a brief second and then fall onto my tongue.

I saw Beatrice smiling gently at me and laughed.

"I like you Bobbikins. You're good people."

"You're quite alright yourself. I mean, now that you're not trying to kill me."

Beatrice looked away, blushing slightly as she got to her feet. There was a moment of regret that she'd gone, leaving only the smell of her shampoo hanging in the air. It smelled... nice. Just nice. I found myself watching the sway of her hips as she walked into the circle of chairs, the light hitting her golden hair almost perfectly.

I shook myself and looked away, aware that my heart was beating a little faster. What the fuck? It had to be the tequila or something, right?

"Come here," she said. "I want to show you something."

I hesitated but found a smile coming to my lips as I looked up at her. She was smiling, lips slightly parted-- and why the hell was I noticing all of these details? Goddamit!

"What is it?" I asked as I walked over to her, and was my heart hammering away in my chest? Why, yes it was, and I couldn't look away from her, didn't want to look elsewhere.

I found myself taking her outstretched hand and stepped into the light, looking nowhere but at Beatrice's eyes--

"Well since you aren't going to make the first move--" Beatrice said.

I leaned in and kissed her firmly on the lips. There was no hesitation from her. She already knew what she wanted, and she kissed me back, and for a while, all I knew was her lips and the exquisite taste that was all Beatrice.

***

Just so you know, I'm going to skip the sex scene. Some of you are disappointed, and I understand, but just deal with it, okay? I mean, there are lots of things I could say about having sex in a church or even having sex with Beatrice, but I'm not going to say anything about either of those things.

It was intense, it was good, and goddamn it was dirty and precisely what we both needed.

So no sex scene, got it?

Good.