Vampire’s Bride

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The sun was going down as Tarryn sat on her balcony. One leg folded underneath her, leaning back at one of the two chairs on either side of the small table. A cup of hot tea warmed her hands and the soothing taste of chamomile helped chase the evening chills away. There wasn’t much of a view; the other four-story towers of the apartment complex, the occasional tree planted in a round portion of earth speckled the winding car paths with random sections of five to ten parking spots along the edge. Most people would be coming home from work, and usually Tarryn would be getting ready to head in. She was currently on medical leave, though, so she didn’t quite know what to do with herself.

Tarryn put the mug down next to her laptop on the glass table. She scrolled through page after page of studies, prognoses, forums, and support groups all headlined with that black daunting title “Cancer.” She scrolled and scanned, the text no longer registering, the words blurring together.

Stage IV, in her blood, in her bones, her lymphatic system compromised. One of her ovaries was completely riddled, nothing left of the organ’s previous purpose. The idea of a dark, murky killer streaming through her body nauseated her. It had taken two days to get a clear diagnosis, a week to come to terms without crying, and a few more days to start deciding what to do now.

Chemo and surgery was out. At this point, it would just make her sicker and probably kill her faster. With no cure, no future past several months from now, she was left with deciding what she wanted to do with the time she had left.

Tarryn’s dad had disappeared when she was a baby and her mom died of breast cancer about ten years previously. She didn’t have siblings, and her only friends were fellow employees at the hospital. Cyndi had been her closest friend from the first week she started working at the hospital nine years before. Diane was her friend, but one she didn’t often see out of work. So with the exception of Cyndi, she really didn’t have anyone to mourn her or spend time with her.

That left her with focusing on strictly what she wanted. What did she want to do, to see, to experience, before her short life ended? She wouldn’t mind spending a few nights with a man, someone to fill her bed but not her heart. She refused to give someone that kind of pain.

She wanted to travel, but the need to be close to the hospital in case something went wrong and to have easy access to her pharmacy for her pain, nausea, insomnia, anxiety, and depression medication was a problem as well. She was taking so much for so many things. Part of her wanted to cut that off too, but to what end? That would only make her time more painful, more difficult, and more unbearable. There was no reason for that.

Tarryn inadvertently found herself looking up death, and came across an article from a well-known vampire, listing the benefits of death and how the world necessitates death. The irony wasn’t lost on Tarryn. Then again, who better to discuss how people needed to die then someone who technically did and now was nearly impossible to succumb to the inevitable?

The more Tarryn read and contemplated the article, the more she began to think about the conversations that would occur between someone who wouldn’t necessarily deal with death for centuries and someone who was on the very cusp.

She started researching sites that served as a meeting place between vampires and humans. The difficulty was weeding out all the sites for people begging to be fed upon or turned, or vampires looking for willing slave labor or something similar. The growth of the fetish genre had seriously gotten out of control. Eventually, she finally found a site that seemed much more vague, and only suggested “meet ups” between a human and a vampire.

She spent the next twenty minutes making her profile, and after a bit of deliberation, decided to include the fact that she was dying and was not interested in being turned, and that she was just looking for some company and conversation. Tarryn found herself intrigued. She hadn’t really thought about having a s****l relationship with a vampire, but then again, she wasn’t looking to have any relationship with anyone.

A vampire would probably be much less attached, and probably a much more interesting experience. As a phlebotomist, drawing blood was everyday life for her, so the idea of possibly being bitten and fed upon was also something she wasn’t beyond, but she didn’t know how that would work.

Would her blood taste bad? Poisonous? Dead? She didn’t know. But with her days numbered, now was as good of time as any to answer so many questions, weird or not, and to delve into an area she hadn’t yet experienced.

Drake Kastle often found himself torn between hilarity and disgust at reading his messages from the various meet-up sites and apps. Technology still baffled him at times, and the willingness of women in the present day was astounding. In some ways, he found himself baffled at the modern acceptance and obsession with vampirism. Perhaps their species should have come out long ago, and then again, this was a day and age where people changed their s*x and skin tone like they did their hairstyle.

Regardless of the reasons, the fact that his heightened s****l appetite could be so easily placated, that it took nothing more than a few lines of text or even a symbol of appreciation in the form of an “electronic sticker,” was enough to have a woman in his arms or bed, was something he very much appreciated.

Then again, as he browsed through the profiles on one of the sites that tended to provide him with more intellectual company, he found himself somewhat disgusted by the “please” and begging and ridiculous requests of people. He could feel his anger stir as line after line of people wanting to be bitten, turned, or a “s*x slave,” something that also used to be an unaccepted title.

And then something caught his attention, just a few lines next to a simple photo. She was beautiful, golden hair and emerald eyes, an olive skin tone that could easily darken in the sun or fade in the night, and a smile unsure of the camera, or whoever was holding it.

I have recently discovered that I do not have much time left. I am not asking to be turned, and in fact, am not interested in becoming a vampire. I am, however, interested in good conversation, temporary companionship, and a possible relief from the pain of my life.

Drake read the lines over again and again. He could almost feel her sadness and loneliness and he was intrigued. He didn’t hesitate as he wrote a response, for once not having to write something vulgar or some s****l innuendos to interest her. Although he did plan to take care of some of needs before meeting her.

She seemed too genuine, and he wouldn’t want to spoil their meeting with blood lust, or any other kind, from the start. He didn’t think she would be the type of woman who expected s*x on the first meeting, and he wanted to make sure she didn’t think that was what he was after.

In this day and age, someone to have a decent conversation with, one not plagued with begging to be bitten or the mopey sadness of days long since gone, as many of his fellow vampires seemed to do, was hard to come by.

Dearest Tarryn, My name is Drake. I am a man who has lived over 800 years. I am intrigued by your request and interested in a meeting, perhaps. Let me know if you would consider this and where and when you would prefer to engage in social niceties.

Drake growled as his finger finished the motion to send the message. He sounded old and out of date, something he had been trying to remedy. His frustration was mostly building due to his need to feed; it had been a few days. Trying to put Tarryn out of his mind, he shot a message to one of the women who were always eager to please him.

He was careful to keep several weeks between each meeting with them, he didn’t want the attachment, any accidental turnings (his disgust at the government involvement in that was a whole other issue), and his tolerance often grew short after only a few hours around them. The response was quick, and gave him an hour to prepare for company. At least this would also distract him from eagerly awaiting Tarryn’s reply.

Tarryn stretched as she slowly began to wake up. Her pain had been getting to her, and she wasn’t eager to sit around hurting waiting for a response. Yawning, she grabbed her comfy, drawstring cotton pants and pulled them on. In the kitchen, she booted up the laptop as she grabbed a glass of tea. Her phone’s LED flashed green. Tarryn couldn’t help but sigh as she replied to Cyndi’s text. Yes, she was fine. Yes, she was hurting a bit. She missed Cyndi too. As she sent off the text, she saw the icon saying she had an email. The title was a response from the web site she had used earlier. In fact, she had several of them.

Taking the laptop to the couch, she flicked on her favorite investigation channel on the TV before checking through the various messages. A few were immediate deletes. Vulgar and crude, she rolled her eyes. She had expected a few of them. Some were polite, but still hinted at a strictly s****l encounter.

Finally, about 2/3 of the way down the list, she saw a message from Drake Kabalarian. She couldn’t help but giggle at the formal wording and sincere invitation. Nodding to herself, she quickly replied, giving him her phone number to text her, if he wished.

Tarryn read over the message again, wondering to herself how it must feel to have been around for so long and to then find yourself sending a few lines of a note to someone immediately. She always got caught up in the “what-ifs” of vampirism. She had seen plenty of shows and interviews and read articles and stories, and had heard some hilarious and some sad stories of how the changing of society and technology had been for many of these people.

Regardless of all of that, she couldn’t help but be intrigued and excited about meeting one face to face and asking him questions about his life, what he loved and hated about the present day, what he missed, what it was like to watch people you loved or knew die as you stayed the same.

The green LED pulled her out of her inner thoughts. She swiped the screen to see an unknown number. A thrilling shiver shot down her spine.

Of course I would love to meet you this evening. Would you be interested in a stroll in the Sakeny Park, a viewing at the Pulatte Art Gallery, a beverage at a tea house or coffee shop? Your choice.

Tarryn bit her lip, quickly running through a self-evaluation. She hadn’t eaten much, and food is something she needed to take care of soon, if she could. But she wasn’t sure how it would be, eating in front of someone that didn’t need to. Walking in the park would be a bit strenuous for her. The art gallery was intriguing. She heard they had some glass pieces from an artist who used sand and lightning to make the base sculptures, and then added his own flare with his artistic skill in glass work.

Will the gallery be open this evening?

It will be if I ask them to.

Tarryn raised her brow, was he going to intimidate them or did he own the place or something?

Ok, how about 8 PM?

I’ll be there. Look for the man on the bench with the purple flower.

I see you read my profile. I look forward to meeting you, Drake.

And I you, Tarryn. Till then.

Tarryn sat down her phone, smiling for the first time in weeks. She eyed her pill bottles, the smile fading with the possibility of her health impeding on her night. Shaking off the negative vibes, she headed to the shower. It was time to wash off her shut-in grunge and get ready to meet a vampire.