Page 20

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHANEL

T he VIP room at The Castle felt like a sanctuary tonight.

The plush velvet curtains were drawn closed.

We wanted to conceal ourselves from the partygoers below us at the club.

Me and Morgan were here to celebrate my new engagement.

I was just happy Zand let me come out of the house when I was still in danger.

I was so happy with my engagement, and there was no way I would let Teresa steal my joy by having me hiding at the loft.

Inside the VIP room, the dim lighting created shadows that danced across Morgan’s newly paler skin.

My bestie was out here looking like a fair maiden.

She wasn’t too happy with the slight change in her skin tone.

She had purchased three bottles of spray tan that she hadn’t tried out yet.

Morgan was so funny. She was going to always make sure people knew she was Black or biracial.

She was going to go out of her way to make sure the world didn’t think she was a whole ass Caucasian person and all I could do was laugh.

Being a vampire didn’t erase her Blackness, and honestly, she was a vampire now.

I didn’t think her race, color, or creed even mattered anymore.

Zand told me vampires didn’t have racism, colorism or discrimination.

I wanted to believe him. But seeing that he was White, would he even know if Black vampires were being discriminated against?

I twisted my engagement ring around my finger.

My black diamond was something I couldn’t stop looking at.

I watched my best friend lift a crystal glass filled with crimson liquid to her lips.

Her movements were more graceful than they had ever been, yet somehow uncertain, as if she was still learning the language of her own body.

My plate of roasted chicken and vegetables sat half-eaten before me.

The rich chicken aroma mingling with the metallic scent coming from Morgan’s glass.

I was picking at my food for the past twenty minutes.

I was more interested in observing the subtle changes in my friend than in satisfying my hunger.

Morgan noticed my stare and quickly lowered her glass. A grimace flashed across her face. “I’m sorry.” She apologized while wiping her lips, even though there was nothing there to wipe. “I should’ve waited until you were done eating.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” I told her, spearing a piece of baby carrot with my fork. “Girl, Zand drinks blood in front of me all the time.” The words came easily now, as if discussing blood consumption was the most natural thing in the world. Perhaps for me, it had become just that.

Morgan placed her glass down on the polished mahogany table. Her movement was too fast, too forceful. The crystal made a sharp ping against the wood, and she winced at the sound.

“Still getting used to it?” I asked softly.

I decided against telling her she was already heavy handed before she was a vampire.

I remembered how she used to comb my hair when she was flat ironing it.

I had to remind her I have 4C hair, and she was used to combing her 3A textured hair.

She would ease up, but she was so good at doing my hair I sometimes just let her rake that wide-tooth comb through my hair without complaining.

“Everything is so freakin’ loud.” She whispered. Her hands hovered over the glass as if afraid to touch it again. “And I can’t seem to gauge how much pressure to use. Yesterday, I almost grabbed a doorknob out of a door.”

I nodded, remembering how Zand explained this adjustment period to me. “Zand says it gets easier.”

“That’s what Harlen and Donté keep saying too.” Morgan sighed, her fingers finally wrapping around the glass again, this time with exaggerated care. “But how long is eventually? A week? A month? A year?”

“I don’t know, but for now, sometimes you’re going to be as graceful as Naomi Campbell walking the runway for Versace. Other times you’re going to be Marlon and Sean Wayans walking the runway in White Chicks.”

I had no proper answer for her. The timeline of vampire adjustment wasn’t something I had to personally navigate.

“Girl, please don’t tell me I look like Brittany and Tiffany Wilson.”

“I mean, you did dye your hair blonde.” I teased.

Morgan let out a giggle. “And did.” I loved seeing her laugh again.

The heavy textured curtains parted suddenly, and Layla glided into the room.

The Castle’s PR manager moved with the effortless grace that seemed common to all vampires.

I wondered how long she had been a vamp.

Her tall frame was accentuated by a form-fitting black dress that made her look like she’s stepped off a runway.

Her blonde hair cascaded over one shoulder.

She looked exactly the same way she looked the first time me and Morgan came to The Castle, and she plucked us out of the line to escort us inside.

“Is everything to your satisfaction?” Layla asked. Her voice carried a faint accent I had never been able to place. Her eyes drifted from me to Morgan, then to my plate. “Can I have Marco pour you more wine? Or perhaps something stronger?”

“No, I’m fine,” I replied. “Everything’s perfect, thank you.” Layla seemed too high up on the totem pole to be checking in on us. Zand had a kitchen with regular waitstaff. I was sure Layla was busy, and this was way below her pay grade.

Layla nodded, but her gaze lingered on Morgan, the new vampire. There was something in Layla’s expression, not quite hostility, not quite curiosity. Morgan got attention from women and men, but nothing about Layla screamed lesbian or bisexual.

Morgan noticed Layla’s lingering gaze and met her stare. A small creased formed between Morgan’s brows. It was a ‘what the fuck you looking at glare’ that only someone that was close to Morgan recognized.

“And you, Ms. Hayes?” Layla asked. “Is your beverage satisfactory?”

The pause before “satisfactory” stretched a beat too long, infusing the word with something that could be judgment. I really didn’t know.

“It’s fine.” Morgan’s voice was clipped. “Thank you.” Morgan growled.

Still, Layla didn’t skedaddle. She didn’t catch the hint.

She stood there, assessing Morgan with the kind of measured gaze one might give to a puzzle they were trying to solve.

“If you need anything, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask me.

Mr. Valentine has given instructions that you’re to be afforded every comfort. ”

“We will let you know.” I interjected, sensing Morgan’s growing discomfort with Layla’s presence. “Thank you, Layla.”

With one final glance at Morgan, Layla turned and slinked her tall ass back through the curtains. Her exit was as smooth as her entrance. But the extra time at our table was weirdo behavior.

“What the fuck was that about?” Morgan muttered once we were completely alone again.

“What do you mean?”

“The way she looked at me,” Morgan said, leaning forward.

“Like I was some kind of science project. People act weird around me now that I’m a vampire.

” She picked up her glass and took another sip.

“They either avoid me completely or stare like I’m going to snap and drain them dry any minute. And check it, they all vampires too.”

I considered this, thinking about the dynamics at play. “Maybe it’s not just that you’re a vampire.” I suggested. “Maybe it’s who turned you. Harlen is sort of new around here. I know he’s Zand’s brother, but you and me were here before he was.”

Morgan’s eyes widen slightly. “You think that’s it? That I’m guilty by association?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Vampire politics are complicated.”

“Tell me about it. Even so, it makes no sense. Like you said, I was coming here with you. I’m not some new person.”

I watched as she sat down her glass again.

Her hand trembled slightly. The tremor was barely perceptible, but it spoke volumes about the strain she was under.

Morgan had always been the confident one, the one who barreled through life with unwavering strength.

Seeing her struggle with basic movements broke my heart.

“How are you really doing?” I asked, pushing my plate aside. “And don’t tell me fine. I want the truth.”

Morgan’s shoulders sagged a little, her carefully maintained facade cracking just enough to let me glimpse what was beneath.

“I feel...” she began, then stopped, searching for the right words.

“I feel like I’m wearing someone else’s skin.

Like everything’s familiar but wrong at the same time.

” She flexed her fingers, watching them move as if they belonged to a stranger.

“I can hear people talking on the dance floor if I focus on it. Coco, I can smell what shampoo you used this morning. It’s overwhelming. ”

“I can’t even imagine.” I murmured, wishing I could do more than offer empty platitudes.

“And the hunger...” she whispered. Something dark flashed in her eyes. “Bay-bee, it’s always there, just under the surface. Girl, remember when I tried to go on that Keto diet to lose 10 pounds and I passed the hell out?”

“How could I forget?”

“Girl, it’s like ten times worse, but I can’t even faint and not feel it.

” It was nice to see that Morgan was still funny, and dramatic and, dare I say, still Morgan.

“Harlen’s been teaching me to control it and your cute little stepson has been checking up on me.

I think I want to set him up with Donna. ”

“I know you lying.” I laughed out loud.

“I’m just playing about Donna, but that’s your son. You about to marry his daddy.”

“You think you funny.”

“Ah. No. It’s facts. Donté Jackson Valentine is your stepson. Congratulations! Yes, ma’am, you got a baby boy.” Morgan nodded with a straight face. She reached for her glass again, this time lifting it without any visible tremor. Progress, even if it was small.

“Technically, you’re right, but Donté is grown.”

“Nineteen has never been grown, especially for someone with a penis. Because he was turned at nineteen, does that mean his prefrontal cortex isn’t fully developed?”

“You know. I don’t know.”

“Being a vampire just brings so many questions without answers.”

“Zand says Natasha is the smartest vampire he knows. She knows a lot about vampire history and just how y’all function and operate. If you have questions, you should go talk to her.”

“Girl, I’m afraid of her. She looks at me like she wants to eat my coochie.”

That was true. “Oh, I guess you going to have to shave your tabby cat and be a lesbian if you want an advanced vampire masterclass.”

“First, that’s a no. Second, you know, I’m falling for Harlen. I could never ever hurt him. He loves me.”

“Be careful with him. I know Zand is tough on him, but he has a good reason.”

“I know he slept with Teresa. He told me he was sorry about it, and he would never betray Zand again. Harlen told me he was lost without his brother, and he never wants to lose him again. He said he would die for him.”

I was shocked and wondered if Harlen really meant it. “He said that?”

“He sure did. I don’t know all their history, but those two need a therapy session with Iyanla Vanzant or Dr. Cheyenne Bryant because they have some serious issues.”

“You’re right. They got into a whole fight at the loft. I mean, we were all upset that we hadn’t heard from y’all, but Zand exploded.”

“Right and Harlen just took the punches and didn’t even try to really fight him back. I was already a vampire. It’s not like Harlen could turn back time.” Morgan added.

I agreed with her, but I didn’t want to say anything else. Zand always had a reason, and I assumed he probably had many reasons to blow up at Harlen that we all didn’t know. They both had the same maker, and they had been around for decades.

“I’m sure they will figure it out.” I added. “Let’s just promise we won’t let anything ever come between us.”

“Coco, now you know we ride or die. Bad girls for life.”

“Am I Will Smith or Martin Lawerence?”

“Now you know I’m Martin.” She joked.

“Okay, good, because I’m Mike Lowrey.”

“I’m never going to dispute that. Besides, I was going to marry you if Zand hadn’t beat me to it.”

“You are a fool. But it makes sense, so we could just pay for the family insurance.” I jokingly said.

“I don’t need health insurance now. I’m a vampire.” She mocked her pre-existing condition.

“What did you tell your job?” I asked. I had to quit my job.

“I’m still working. I’m remote. They don’t have to know I’m a vampire. I still have to make a living. I don’t have to show up to financially advise my clients. I’ll fly back to Minnesota when I just have to show up to the office in person.”

“Do you want to still work?”

“I do. I’m trying to go on like normal. It helps me take my mind off things.

I don’t need that much sleep anymore, so I can do a lot of things now.

One good thing about being a vampire, in the woods, I don’t have to choose between the man or the bear.

I can kill both of them.” She said with a tone that was matter of fact and big facts all rolled into one.

“But right now, the only person I want to kill is Teresa Protenza.”

I never knew Teresa’s last name and here it was Morgan, was locked in with the details.

“We’ll get her.” I promised, surprised by the conviction in my own voice. After what happened with Marisol early this morning, the words felt less like empty reassurance and more like a statement of fact. “Everyone is looking for Teresa. When she sticks her head out, we will chop it off.”

Morgan smiled. “Okay, Griselda Blanco. You out here talking like a real queen pin and your son is already a Chicago gangbanger.”

I couldn’t help it. I busted out laughing. “You know what? I think they put some Coca-Cola in your drink because you got all the jokes tonight.”

“Oh, my God. Can vampires get high? Nah, but in all seriousness. That drugstore bottled bleach blonde psycho vampire bitch got to go.” Morgan raised her glass in a toast. “To the left.”

“To the death.” I raised my water glass, clinking it gently against hers.