Beautiful Monster (Beautiful Monster #1)(11)
Author: Bella Forrest

“So…what then?”

Porsche let go of my hand to flip over the headshot, where notes were scribbled. The second she did, the cravings came back, now that it was fully dark. I could feel my fangs surge forward in my mouth. The sun was set, and my transformation, subtle yet obvious, was complete.

“Amy is also HIV positive,” she said, softly. I felt something move in me; a twinge of sympathy for this bright young girl. And she was good, she had blown me and everyone else in the room away. But it was knowing, looking at her as I gritted my teeth against the blood lust, that she would never tempt me, never be in danger at my hands, and never have to run from the room if a late night rehearsal was needed.

“How?” I asked, standing up to pace the room.

“Genetics. Her mother was infected, apparently.” Porsche looked over the form carefully. “She’s homeschooled…or rather, online schooled. Lives with her father, who is not infected. He’s employed as a chef at the school, and all of her work experience is also in the kitchens.”

“That’s right,” I remembered now, seeing her face in the hallway more than once. Her father also came to mind, a tall, wirily man, with grey in his hair and an aura of sorrow about him. If he thought losing his wife was bad, he should try becoming undead and knowing everyone you love will be dead soon enough. I downed another shot, looking out the window as the town’s nightlife began to emerge. It hit me like a hammer, a warm feeling rushing over me. Already, I could feel the effects, the cravings ceasing a bit as the alcohol warmed my blood. That was one problem with being a vampire, I was forever cold, even during the day as a human.

Whoever invented the story that vampires were blood thirsty creatures all the time was clearly in the mindset of torture and angst. Only turning as the sun set was quite enough for me, I didn’t think I could stand for it during the day.

“I want her,” I said, turning to Porsche, who was already packing up the other files. I smiled ruefully. The girl knew me too well.

“Fine. I’ll put her information into the computer and have her called in the morning.”

“I want to call her,” I said, surprising her. “Myself.”

“If you can remember,” she smirked at me, as she finished putting everything away, and then stood up. Clad in leggings, with her red hair piled on top of her head, she looked every bit the successful dancer.

“You going somewhere?” I asked, feeling giddy with drink. “I thought I’d take you out to paint the town red.”

“Oh I see,” she replied, smirking, probably at the state I was descending into. “Literally?”

God, she was beautiful. Despite it all, there was something in me that knew that if she wasn’t stunning, I probably wouldn’t keep her around. That’s what you get when you spend years in Hollywood, frolicking with only the beautiful people.

Mind you, that’s also what got me into this mess to begin with. But tonight … tonight I didn’t care. We had worked hard for months to pull these auditions together, and now it was over, the choice was made, and we could relax.

“Literally,” I replied, reaching for one more drink. “I want to take my time tonight, find the best of the best. Isn’t that what we deserve, after all? So hold my hand, hold me back …” I started singing and she laughed, heading for the bathroom.

“Ok, hold on, let me try to make myself presentable,” she replied. “I have an idea, there’s a carnival about two towns over, small little place, but will be populated with tourists. Everyone will be dressed up, and no one will notice a little chaos…”

“This is why I love you,” I said, deciding to make the shot a double. After all, if it was going to be a long drive, I needed to be fortified.

CHAPTER 5: AMY

I knew the bills were overdue, but I had no way to know how badly they were until I woke up the next morning and found that my cell phone was not charged, nor did the lights in my room turn on.

“Dad?” I called, hearing his voice in the kitchen as I headed down the stairs. He was on our house phone, furiously arguing and scribbling something onto the back of an envelope. I headed to the stove and switched it on, hoping to make breakfast, but my hopes were quickly killed when the red light remained unlit.

Finally, my father hung up, continuing to write things on the back of the envelope.

“What’s going on?” I asked finally, and he sighed.

“We’re just…a little behind on things, Amy, that’s all. I had the bills set up to be withdrawn automatically, so I wouldn’t forget them…but it appears…”

“We don’t have enough money,” I filled in. “It’s not surprising. You’re missing a week or more of pay.”

“Thank you for reminding me,” he glared at me, as I sat at the table, mentally calculating how much we would be missing.

“Dad, let me come today.”

“No,” he said, sharply. “You missed yesterday, and that was enough. You should stay home, Amy and…”

“Work with an abacus and a pencil and paper?” I asked, unimpressed. “My computer won’t turn on, there’s no heat in the house, it’s Tuesday, so the library is closed, and I can’t even use my cell phone.” I knew I had a point, so I continued to talk. “So unless I can call into an online school and get all the information faxed over…without a fax machine…its better that I come with you. I can do homework on the school’s wireless, and work for half a day, make up the missing wages faster.”

“How are you feeling?” He gave me a long hard look, and I did my best to match it. I felt a bit tired from yesterday, but that was normal.

“Fine,” I replied. “It’ll only be for half a day. Adam said that I could have a few shifts a week any time. Anything is better than staying here, and the faster we get everything turned back on, the faster I can stay home and rest.”

Dad sighed, relenting. “Fine. But if you start to feel overtired at all, you’ll come back home right away, agreed?”

“Yep,” I shot upstairs, to grab my cell phone, charger and laptop, packing a bag with everything I thought I would need. Of course, I had no intention of doing homework, but I had to create the illusion of doing so. The senior theater class had rehearsal today, and I wanted to catch that. I could charge my phone at the school, keeping Sarah in the loop.

“Are you ready?”