What Kills Me (18 page)

“Why not? Lately everyone I meet
attacks me with sharp, pointy objects. I think I should learn to
defend myself.”

He tossed one of his swords at me and
I caught it over my head with my right hand. I pulled the sword
from its smooth wooden scabbard and saw the reflection of my
blazing eyes in the steel. Near the hilt the blade was engraved
with a double-headed dragon. I held it out in front of me, the
blade pointed at the ceiling.

“Stop. You look like you’re carrying a
torch,” he said, coming toward me.

“I’m just looking at it,” I
said.

“Put both of your hands on the
handle,” he said.

He circled me and tapped my left hand
with his index finger. “Slide this hand closer to the edge of the
handle.”

When I extended the sword, he moved
behind me. His hands reached around me and rested on the outside of
my forearms. I stiffened slightly, conscious of his closeness, of
his fingers on my skin.

“Relax your elbows,” he said. “Center
your blade. You’re going to point the tip at your
opponent.”

“Well, come stand in front of me
then.”

“Hey, killer, don’t get
cocky.”

I could tell from his voice that he
was smiling and I grinned. And that simple reaction, that unbridled
smile on my face, released a rush of emotion. It was the closest
thing to happiness that I had felt in a while. I wanted to lose
myself in this moment. I wanted to pretend that we were normal
people, hanging out, having fun. I wanted to mark this moment as a
memory worth keeping.

“Ready?” Lucas asked.

I leaned against him and wrapped my
arms around his waist. I couldn’t hide the nervous excitement in my
voice: “Ready.”

Kinman rolled his motorcycle beside
ours. He looked like an adult on a child’s bike. He was bald and at
least six foot five, thick as a tree trunk with big biceps and bear
paws for hands. His black T-shirt was stretched like nylon over his
muscles. He would be intimidating except that he was always
grinning.

“Hey, I got these for you,” he said.
He had two helmets hanging from either side of his handlebars. He
held out the pink, floral-printed one for me. “To hide your
face.”

“Lucas wants that one. He told me so,”
I said.

“You’re an idiot,” Lucas said, taking
the pink helmet. I reached for the black one and pushed it onto my
head.

“Stay close,” Kinman said. He revved
his engine. “And friends?”

“Yeah?” I said.

“Welcome to Taipei.”

He raced out of the dark garage,
leaving a billow of dust, and Lucas sped after him. We zipped down
a narrow alleyway and onto a major street, joining a sea of
motorbikes. I felt like we were part of a parade. There were
people. Everywhere. People crossing the street. People zooming
around on scooters and bicycles. People lining up to get into
restaurants. Above them innumerable neon banners hung from the
buildings.

After a few minutes the glowing lights
from the cars, the street lamps, the storefronts, and the
billboards became a blur. The humid air felt heavy on my skin and I
was glad I didn’t have to breathe it. I clung to Lucas and tried to
block out the roaring street noise. I started to feel dizzy so I
squeezed my eyes shut.

“Are you all right?” he
asked.

“I’m fine,” I said.

We made a few more turns; the final
one took us away from the bustle. As our motorcycles slowed in
front of a narrow apartment building, I opened my eyes. Tired, I
slumped against Lucas’s back, knocking our helmets together.
Motorbikes lined the alley. A hum filled my helmet and when I
looked up, I saw air conditioners jutting out of windows. Clothing
hung out on all the balconies. I could smell detergent, fish,
gasoline. I rubbed my parched tongue on the roof of my mouth. My
mouth felt sore; my gums ached. My stomach groaned.

“We need to take her inside,” Lucas
told Kinman. “She needs to feed.”

Lucas unfastened the strap under my
chin and removed my helmet. He held my elbow as I dragged one leg
over the motorcycle and then he lifted me into his arms. Kinman
opened a metal door and escorted us down a flight of concrete
stairs. He stopped at a white door festooned with pink, blue, and
green butterfly decals and wrestled a key into the lock.

We stepped into the fusty apartment
and Kinman turned on the lights. The three of us crowded into a
kitchen.

“Sorry the place is so small,” Kinman
said. “It was short notice.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lucas
said.

Kinman squeezed between us and the
stove and opened a waist-high, gray fridge.

“I filled it with good stuff,” he
said. Over his shoulder, I could see a dozen bottles of blood
lining the shelves. He grabbed two with one hand and twisted the
caps off. Lucas set me on my feet but maneuvered me like a puppet
to a leather couch in the living area beyond the fridge. Kinman
handed us the bottles with a wink.

“The longer that you are a vampire,
the less blood you will need,” Lucas said, setting his bottle at my
feet.

The two of them walked away from me,
speaking in low tones. It took me a moment, in between chugs of
blood, to realize that they were speaking in another language.
Kinman opened a sliding door off the kitchen and they disappeared
inside the room. Tipping the bottle upside down, I poked my tongue
inside the neck to get the last drop.

I picked up the second bottle and ran
my thumb over a raised symbol on the glass, a snake slithering in a
circle—the Monarchy’s emblem.

Fighting them means biting
the hand that feeds us.

I downed the blood. The
soreness in my mouth faded. My body was buzzing and something
tickled my ankle. I leaned over, put my hand against my pants to
scratch my shin and my palm covered something under the fabric—hard
and the size of a thumb.
What the…?
I shook my pant leg and a shiny brown cockroach
tumbled out. It landed on its back, its spiky legs pumping the air.
I screamed.

Lucas ran into the kitchen, his swords
drawn, and Kinman was close behind him. I stood on the couch, its
plush cushions swallowing my feet, and pointed at the floor with my
empty bottle. The insect scuttled across the tiles and under the
fridge.

I looked up at Lucas and Kinman. No
one spoke. I relaxed my expression.

“Sorry,” I said. “It tried to get into
my pants.”

Kinman grinned. Lucas shook his
head.

“Your friend, she is funny,” Kinman
told him.

“Yes, very funny and very annoying,”
Lucas said. I made a face at him but he ignored me, putting his
swords away. “So tomorrow then?” he said.

“Yes,” Kinman said. “I’ll have a car
here at sundown. Be ready.”

“Did you get a confirmation on her
location?”

“We know where she is. We just have
yet to see her.”

“What do you mean? How do you know
where she is if you’ve never seen her?”

“I have a friend who knows one of her
servants. Don’t worry. We have someone trying to make contact with
her tonight.”

Lucas nodded. “Thanks again for all of
your help.”

Kinman reached into his back pocket
and pulled out a cell phone. “Call me if you need anything. My
number’s in here,” he said, placing the phone in Lucas’s hand. “Do
you need any weapons?”

“I have all that I need,” Lucas said.
Then he glanced at me. “Actually, could you get us a short
sword?”

“Of course,” he said.

Lucas walked him out, leaving me in
the apartment with the cockroach. I listened to it squeezing its
crunchy shell in between the furniture. It scurried along the
baseboards. The bug had friends because I heard the patter of
minuscule legs elsewhere. I followed the noise to the bathroom. The
light paused before flickering on. The entire washroom was like a
shower stall. A shower head hung over the toilet. Another cockroach
darted around my feet. I gasped, hopping away as it zigzagged
across the beige tiles and disappeared into a drain on the
floor.

Sighing, I leaned on the
rose-colored sink. My face in the mirror surprised me. My glowing
eyes.
When will I get used to looking like
this?
My hair was tangled and matted to my
forehead and neck. I rubbed at a rusty stain on my chin. I nudged
the door closed with my hip and removed Samira’s clothing, which
still smelled of the incense from her home. I grabbed the shower
head, pointed it at my face, and turned on the tap.

The lukewarm water coursed
over my body and down the drain. I imagined the cockroach being
swept down the dark pipe, being washed away, feeling lost. I could
relate to that. But I decided that the bug would be all
right.
Look at me. I’m here.

I took a towel hanging on the back of
the door, wrapped it around my body, and faced my reflection. I
posed. I smiled. But I didn’t look like myself. And I didn’t know
if I felt like myself. I died. But who came back? Was I a vampire
wearing an Axelia mask? Or was I still Axelia, except with a new
diet? And if I was myself, then I couldn’t imagine the legend
coming true. I couldn’t kill anyone. I was afraid of bugs, for
God’s sake.

I bared my teeth.
I need a toothbrush. I must have blood
breath.
My gums looked inflamed. I pushed
my lip up and bent over the sink to get closer to the mirror. The
flesh above my incisors appeared puffy and pale. I touched the
tender skin, and upon contact the skin seemed to break, revealing
an ivory lump.

“Oh my God,” I said. I yanked the door
open and ran into Lucas in the kitchen.

“Something is happening in my mouth,”
I said.

“What?”

“Look,” I said. I flipped my lip up so
that it touched my nose. He peered into my mouth.

“What are those white things?” I
asked.

“They’re fangs,” he said.

“Seriously?”

“Yes. They’re growing in.”

“Let me see yours.” I leaned toward
him to look in his mouth. He pulled back.

“They only descend when you’re about
to attack.”

“How do I control them?”

“How do you control your
fingers?”

“I just don’t want them hanging out
all the time.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“I touched them in the bathroom and
they seemed to protrude more.”

“Well, stop touching them
then.”

For a moment we looked at each other.
I tried to read his eyes as they scanned my face. He parted his
lips as if to speak but didn’t. I had backed him against the stove
so that our stomachs were almost touching. His hands searched for a
casual resting position until he rested them on his hips. A cold
trickle ran down my back, and I realized at that moment that I was
still in a towel. We both turned our faces away.

“Excuse me,” I said, retreating to the
washroom. “I forgot that I was naked.”

As I dressed I yelled at him through
the door, “Hey, I didn’t know you spoke Chinese.”

“I speak more than thirty
languages.”

“Fluently?”

“Yes.”

“That’s amazing.”

“You have time to learn,” he
said.

“Not if the Monarchy gets me first,” I
muttered aloud to myself.

When I came out, Lucas was in the
bedroom. He had flipped the bed up to reveal a storage area
underneath.

“What are you doing?” I asked,
braiding my wet hair.

“Preparing our beds,” he said. “We
have a big day tomorrow. We should rest.”

“Where are you going to
sleep?”

“I’ll sleep under here and then you
can put the bed down.”

“You want me to lie on top of you? I
mean, me on the bed with you underneath…”

“I know what you mean,” he said,
quickly.

“Actually, I was wondering whether I
could go out while you slept,” I said.

He froze. “Out? Where?”

“Just to walk around. I’ve never been
to Asia before and I wanted to see it. In the day.”

“Absolutely not,” he said.

“I’ll wait until the sun is high so
there won’t be any vampires around. I’ll be fine.”

“Maybe it’s not you I’m worried
about.”

“What do you mean? Like if I get
hungry and start treating Taipei like a buffet? You know, start
grabbing legs like they’re drumsticks?” I mimed the action with
both hands.

“That isn’t funny.”

“Come on, Lucas. I promise that I’ll
be careful. I’ll be back before sunset. I just need to get out of
the dark for a little while.”

He shook his head.

“Please. I need this,” I said. I
needed a few hours to not feel scared. To be distracted. To be
normal. To be myself. I needed to be out in the sun.