Burning the Midnight Oil

Here's chapter 2! Enjoy!

2
Veronica
He was drunk. He was drunk again. My dad had been drinking everyday since I could remember, but it had never been this bad. Sure, there had been the time that he had almost jumped off a four story building for a girlfriend, but wasn’t nearly as drunk as today. Like the dutiful daughter I was, I always cleaned in the back of the apartment when he threw his big parties and had his twenty some odd lady friends over.

He belches loudly, and one of the ladies daintily giggles. “Oh David, you always do that at the right moments.” She was a blonde, curly haired temptress, and she was sitting in my dad’s lap . arms wrapped around his neck, and fingers entangled in his copper hair. My father, how was I even related to him, presented her with a small box, smirked, and whispered something in her ear. Then, they shared a kiss. I turn away in disgust as the other women guffaw like a brood of expectant peacocks.

I bet a ring was involved, a very special one. I can guess what’s coming next. “Veronica! Veronica” He bellows, words slurred, “C’mere! I wan’ ya’ ta’ me’ yor’ new mother!” I then hear a crash followed by glass rattling on wood. I sigh, setting down the plate I’m drying. Why am I not surprised? Quietly, I come into the dining room. My father is collapsed, snoring on the loveseat across from the table. The other women have vanished, and the blonde woman remains. Well, this is new.

She smiles and purrs, “Antonio’s sister, how long I have waited to speak to you. Veronica, I presume. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Marda.” I blink. Antonio’s sister? Marda? Then, I say, remembering my manners, “The pleasure is all mine. Now, would you kindly explain why my dad is drunk beyond comprehension.” She laughs, a light, delightful sound that scrapes in my ears and turns sour, “Dear, this man is not your father, but if you must know, I’ve taken a fancy to David, but more importantly, I’m intrigued by you.You should not exist after all. To explain my fiance's intoxication, I be very persuasive if I want to, so I convinced him to drink a few more glasses than usual.” She smiles deviously as I try to puzzle out what she’s saying. “As for the rest, he proposed to me tonight, so I sent the whole horde packing, so I could enjoy a little family time.”

I had my suspicions about her beforehand, but this only raises them further as she casually flashes the engagement ring on her finger. I grimace at the smell of her breath in my face. What did she eat before now? Garlic? “Your brother is an odd man with little mercy. He killed all of your sisters for your real father. He was supposed to kill you too, but for some reason, sixteen years ago, he left you here on this drunkard’s doorstep. I work for your brother, and I have a message to relay to you. Antonio wants you to come home to him. He’ll give you a good home, help you to master your abilities and so on. All I need is a small vial of your blood, and we can be on our way.”

I recoil as she moves closer, like a tigress stalking her prey. “You lie,” I growl, “I don’t have a brother. Any chance of that died with my mother in the crash that killed her. I will not be manipulated by your honey coated words and empty promises.”

I watch as her face contorts from panic, to confusion, to cool rage. “Now let’s not be too hasty.” she says in a sickly sweet voice like poisoned honey, standing up and licking her blood red lips, “All I’m asking for is a bit of blood. Nothing more.” I fight back a gag and ignore my trembling hands that are slick with sweat. “Stay away from me you sicko!”I shout this with as much force as I can but it comes out more terrified than angry. I back away slowly, keeping as much space between me and the enchantress as possible.

Marda snarls, her anger turning her lovely features ugly. She reaches deep into the pocket of her leopard print pantsuit. Her hand clasps around a small vial of something dark red. She then uncaps it and empties its contents into her mouth.

I hear a low moan. And my father staggers over and stands by Marda. “Oh dearie,” She trills, “Would you please hold our daughter still?” “Yes mistress.”Mistress? Since when has my dad called anyone mistress? My vision is tinted red. My breath falls into an uneven pace. I need to get out of here before I hurt anyone or someone hurts me. I begin to run. I run out our apartment door and down the hall. Dad lumbers after me. His eyes are glazed over, and his movements are jerky and unnatural. “Bloodcurdle*” I mutter, recognizing the signs immediately.

I turn a corner and find one of her minions standing at the top of a stairwell. I quickly realized that I’m not going to be able to make it. Marda probably has her guards at every exit. Lucky for me though, it’s a hot night, so the managers have the floor to ceiling windows open. This is my only chance at escape. I take it.

I’m falling through thin air toward the pavement. Plummeting to my highly likely death. I know that this is probably better than having my life controlled by that slimeball of a woman, but in these probably last moments of my life, I ask myself, what was I thinking? I reach out my arms, grappling for a handhold. I’m about to accept my fate when someone or something, catches me.

*Blood curdle: The ability to control a living being by ingesting their blood.