Cara MIA - By Book One of the Immortyl Revolution - By Denise Verrico Page 0,16
about it. They follow whatever custom was fashionable in their time, or in the case of my contemporaries reject enlightened ways in favor of older ones. I’m mere chattel. I don’t have the benefit of laws to protect my rights. Technically, I’m discarded property. But I’m sure our quaint, old-fashioned customs are of no interest?”
“Behavior is often driven by biological predisposition.”
Her mouth twisted up. “Yeah, they’re human and they still act like it. Strip away the mantle of civilization and what’s there?”
“This pimp— is he typical of the sort of victims you seek out?”
“It’s easier to take down sleazoids. No one likes them or will miss them much. Besides, pimps are a favorite flavor of mine.”
Joe winced. “Flavor? We, that is to say, human beings have different flavors?”
“It’s vampire-speak, certain victims give a certain psychological release. Revenge is sweet Joe— but pimps are small game. My master trained me to seduce and kill powerful men, a fine art. I know all sorts of kinky tricks if you’re interested. In any case there’s more to it than sex. What’s most important is to pinpoint a man’s weakness and exploit it for all it’s worth. Luring a man to your bed is no great feat if you’re attractive— stealing his soul away— now there’s the prize.”
“I’m not much for metaphysics.”
Her bee-stung mouth twitched. “No, you’re the objective man of science. Neurons firing— biochemical transmitters— that’s the meaning of life.”
“Something like that.”
She chuckled. “Everything on a map with a key, but it’s not that simple, my friend.”
He changed the subject. “How long have you been… like this?”
“I can sit hear and answer questions till the bats come home or just tell you as it all happened, be your Sheherazade and beguile you for a thousand and one nights.”
“We don’t have that much time.”
“I have all the time in the world. Where shall I begin?”
“At the beginning would be a good place. How did you become a vampire?”
Mia began, “First off, we don’t refer to ourselves by that vulgar term. We prefer Immortyl, with a Y. Of course I could care less, call a spade a spade, I say… ”
FOUR
* * * *
“Remember those three chicks in Dracula? His so-called brides who attack Harker? Ever wonder what their story was? How’d they end up there and what did they do with their considerable time? It wasn’t like he just flew into my bedroom window as a bat or something. There are circumstances leading up.
My parents emigrated from Italy in nineteen thirty. He was the son of a minor aristocrat and she was a servant. She was pregnant. He was an operatic tenor. Needless to say, they weren’t exactly well off. My mother died at my birth, and my father followed when I was eleven. After an abusive Catholic upbringing by my father’s spinster sister Selena, I ran off to Manhattan to become an actress.
Two years of pounding the pavement got me a break in a play directed by an acting teacher of mine, a married man who took me as his protegee and mistress. The play was Ibsen’s Master Builder. Not that that means a thing to you, Joe, but the antagonist Hilde is a dream part for a young actress, no simpering ingenue, but a first-class demon with the power to drive a man to his death. It’s a sexual power struggle between a young woman, Hilde, and the older titular character, Solness. At this point, I was barely aware of the awesome power of this primal force, but I was a quick learner.
I’ll never forget that nasty, rainy December night when I first met my fate. I was busy smearing cold cream on my face to remove my make up when the assistant stage manager knocked on the door of the dressing room I shared with two female cast members. I was always the last one out. This was my time to go over the performance mentally and analyze what had worked and what hadn’t, to retain anything new I’d found in the character.
“Hey Mia, some guy out in the lobby wants to meet you.”
The occasional audience member wanted to chat but most of these guys weren’t really interested in my acting. Making a face in the mirror I called back, “Anyone important?”
“Never heard of him, but this one’s created quite a stir with the female staff.”
Well, that was different. Apparently, this one was a looker. What would be the harm? “Be right out. Let him into the green room,” I hollered.