The Sunset Prophecy (Love & Armageddon #1) (4 page)

5

Saint Drake

E
mpty canvases littered the studio floor of Logan Drake’s living space.

T
he fourth floor of a renovated warehouse, near the fashion district, was part of the city’s efforts to gentrify the outlying downtown area. The converted brick building was surrounded by bodegas which sold
piñatas
, party favors, and
pupusas
.

Logan
’s living space had blood-filled packets neatly stacked on the table by the kitchen; they were arranged and labeled by name and blood type. Dried pools of plasma surrounded the floor of the workspace at the east end of the apartment. With meticulous fervor, Logan placed scented candles on every shelf and table in his studio to wash out the coppery smell of his favorite emulsion.

In his bedroom, his slender naked torso sat upright on his large, minimalist bed frame. He caressed the dip of his friend
’s back as she lay on her stomach while she clutched the cold underside of her pillow. His baritone voice hummed into the smartphone that was tucked tightly between his defined jawline and shoulder. “I don’t think right now is the right time for this interview.”

Eva glanced up while her naked body spooned the down comforter. Her laugh lines meshed with her large lips, as she flashed Logan a sated smile.

A female voice whined and begged on the line. “You’re the featured artist for next month, and our June edition goes to print in a couple of days. You’ve been putting us off for a few weeks now.”

Logan stood from the bed and flirtatiously waved his index finger at Eva as he exited through the partition with the phone still attached to his ear. He sat on his work chair, pulled open a fresh blood packet, and stirred it with his finger.
“I’m humbled by your determination to get me to do this interview, but honestly, I don’t feel comfortable letting your readers know who I amyet,” he said, smacking his lips after tasting the sanguine paint. “I feel my anonymity is what drives my popularity. You know, kinda like that Banksy dude.”

Behind Logan, three paintings adorned the wall of the partition. They displayed his trademark reddish hues.

“No, I disagree. Your work is what makes you popular,” she said. Logan could feel the excitement in her voice. “But I do agree that your mysterious nature enhances everything.”

Flattered, Logan grinned.
“Go on,” he said, kicking up his feet on top of an ottoman.

“
Well, for example, your
Claret Clarice
, which just sold for $400,000...”

“
...absurd, don’t you think?” he interrupted.

“
What?”

“
It’s ridiculous that there are people out there who are willing to drop that sort of money on a whim for some dude’s doodle.”

“
A doodle? It’s an impressionist piece of a timeless woman wearing a crimson dress that can’t even be recreated by software Pantone models.”

“
Don’t you think that money could’ve gone to enhance the human condition?” he asked.

The woman on the line paused.
“Your work is admired by powerful and successful people. You never have to worry about being part of the legions of starving artists. Your work inspires many, which means you’re already enhancing the human condition.”

Logan lifted his feet off the ottoman and downed the packet of blood.
With the back of his hand, he wiped away the crimson trickle from his mouth. “I guess,” he said, subdued.

“
I can have our photographer meet you right away for a photo shoot. How about it? We would be honored to be the first ones to show your face to the world.”

“
No, thanks.”

“
Oh, come on, Mr. Drake, your work is about to detonate like an atom bomb onto the art world.”

“
Not right now. It just doesn’t feel right at the moment.”

“
Can you at least tell me your age? I need to paint a picture of what you look like to our readers.”

“
Just tell them I’m young. Youth rules in this town anyway.”

“
Well, how old? Early 20s?”

“
Sure,” Logan said, as he began sculpting a form on the canvas with his blood-dipped index finger.

“
I’m going to go ahead and print what was discussed in this conversation, is that okay?”

As Logan stroked the canvas, the crackling sounds of beams settling caught his attention. He turned to look over his shoulder, and Eva
’s nude hip rested against the wooden archway. Her white silk robe covered the edges of her curvy chassis. Her skin sparkled with the cherry-scented, glittery lotion she had slathered on her midsection. “Get off the phone,” she whispered.

The dark pupils in his
caramel eyes widened as his eyes met hers.

“
Logan, are you there?” insisted the woman on the phone.

“
Yeah,” Logan said, while distracted at the sight of Venus. And her longing look.

“
Are we done with the interview?”

“
Sure,” he muttered into the phone, still marveling like an owl that had accidentally flapped into the temple of the Karni Mata.

Logan placed the phone on the ottoman. He stood up from his chair and wrapped his wiry and toned upper frame against his latest muse
’s abdomen. Small pecks ensued, signaling a joyous escape from the hyena-like requests of yet another try-hard who wanted to capitalize on the fame that he often despised.

“
Sorry about that...”

“
It’s a bit cold in there,” Eva said. “Keep me warm.”

She lifted one of her legs and wrapped it around Logan like a bronzed serpent.
“Is this what it’s like being Logan Drake? Everyone out there trying to make a name for themselves by letting the world know who you are?”

Logan
’s arm curled around Eva’s sculpted back. He jerked her toward his bare chest and slid the smooth side of his chin down her neck, while blowing intermittent warm breaths. “Everyone will know who I am, soon.”

She pushed him off playfully and widened her green eyes.
“That’s pretty bold statement. Think an awful lot of yourself, don’t you?”

“
I’m serious,” he stated as his face stilled.

Eva
’s smile dissipated as her playful demeanor gave way to Logan’s sudden bout of coldness. “About what?” she asked.

“
Do you like being human?”

Eva shook her head.
“What do you mean? You’re kinda freaking me out right now.”

“
Do you enjoy what it means to be human? You know, all this?” he said, pointing out the window.

Eva clutched both sides of her robe together and proceeded to tie her belt. She was a little uneasy with Logan
’s change of topic and the way his eyes seemed to fasten in deep focus.

“
I’m here with you. I’m enjoying our moment, I mean, I
was
enjoying our moment. Why, all of a sudden, are you asking me about what it means to be human? Are you having some sort of existential crisis or are you from another world?” she chuckled.

Logan closed his eyes and shook his head, breaking himself out of his own spell.
“I just have all these thoughts going through my head, and sometimes, I guess I express them in the most eccentric ways. I’m sorry,” he said, as he opened his arms out to Eva, who stood in a guarded stance.

She rested her head on Logan
’s hard smooth chest. She peered up at his intense, tawny eyes and asked, “Is it true you have a biting fetish?”

Logan held back
a cackle and rolled his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“
Well, I have a friend of a friend who claims to have been bitten by you a couple of years ago.”

“
Who?”

“
I can’t say. My best friend’ll kill me.”

“
Let me take a wild guess. Is her name Kirsten?”

Eva flinched
with surprise. “How’d you know?”

“
She’s been goin’ round’ town telling everyone I like to bite. At first, it bothered me to the point where I actually thought about confronting her, but now she’s been kind of like a filter.”

“
A filter?”

“
Yeah, ‘cause I do. I like to bite, and I think that turns you on.”

“
God, you’re so full of yourself.”

“
I am? Whenever I’m near your neck, you do this exaggerated curl of your head. Your head and neck bend like rubber whenever I’m in the area of your soft, silky-smooth neck. You want a nibble, don’t you?”

“
Don’t be silly,” Eva said.

Logan pushed aside Eva
’s thick, brown hair away from the side of her neck and proceeded to peck at her skin. As expected, she subconsciously or consciously bent her neck almost 45 degrees. Logan’s incisors weren’t absurdly long, but they had that extra millimeter or two that gave his teeth a resemblance closer to an animal than some sort of mythical monster.

Eva lightly moaned.

“See,” Logan whispered, as he trailed nips down her neck. “You want this. Just acquiesce.”

Eva continued her moans, but didn
’t say a word. This was a typical reaction from the girls that came up to the studio. The urges were there, the desire, the wants and needs, but the societal pressures and the unknown consequences of having one’s skin pierced and punctured was an unneeded and temporary obstruction.

“
I’ll assume silence is consent,” Logan breathed, as he tugged lightly at her skin with his teeth. Eva’s body lay limp in his arms, in pure sensual catatonia.

“
Again, just let me know,” he warned, with bated breath.

As Logan stretched his wet, thick lips to full maxim around her neck, a familiar, mnemonic
ringtone tore through the part of his brain that flipped the switch for blood lust, and compromised its synapses. Logan pulled back. He looked at Eva with solemn eyes. “I’m sorry. I need to get that.”

Eva snapped out of her
near-trance. “It’s okay,” she said with defeat in her voice, while crossing her arms and looking downward.

“
No, no, no...wait,” Logan said, as he backpedaled toward his phone. “Just wait. Keep the blood flowing. Don’t stop the flow.”

Logan picked up the phone and retreated toward a far corner of the floor.
“Hello,” he said, softly.

“
Hello, Logan?” said the familiar and sobbing voice.

“
Keelen,” he said, while making brief eye contact with Eva. “What’s wrong? Are you all right? Where are you?”

“
I’m downstairs, in the lobby.”

“
You sound like you’re crying.”

“
Yeah, I need to talk to you.”

“
Sure, hold on. Let me buzz you in.” Logan lowered the phone away from his ear and stared at his screen, then quickly returned it to the side of his head. “I have to hang up to let you in. I’m sorry.”

“
Okay,” Keelen sniffled.

Logan used
a phone app from the apartment management to buzz his guest into the apartment. He turned toward the gorgeous specimen in his living room. Her expression was frosty and disappointed. “Eva?”

“
Yes?” she replied, meeting him in the middle of the large floor space.

“
I have a friend coming up right now. You’re more than welcome to stay.”

“
Is everything okay?”

“
Yeah,” he said. He paused, and then his eyes moved to the side. “Actually, I don’t know.”

Keelen knocked
lightly.

Shirtless and wearing
only sweatpants, Logan glided toward the door. He looked back at Eva before opening it, and shot her an uneasy grin.

He peered through the door.
Obviously, Keelen had had a rough night. Dried streaks of mascara were caked right above her pink cheeks.

As she walked in, Keelen made abrupt eye contact with Eva. She then turned to Logan,
“I’m sorry, I didn’t...”

“
...it’s fine, it’s just...we were gonna—come in, please.”

“
Hello,” Eva said. She turned to Keelen and faked a smile. “Well, it was nice meeting you. I’m gonna get my stuff and head on out.”

Keelen wiped the moisture from her eyes and stepped further into Logan
’s apartment. “Hi, I’m Keelen.” She abruptly pointed at Logan. “We’re just friends.”

Eva nodded at Logan, s
harply turned around and walked toward the bedroom.

Keelen sat on Logan
’s white leather couch. She lowered her head and began weeping.