And even as he spoke she felt her hunger rush back so strongly that nothing in the world seemed more tempting than the smell of that food. She fell upon the steak like a starving beast.
"All better?" he asked pleasantly when she had finished.
Davette looked up, surprised. She had forgotten he was there, forgotten anyone was there, forgotten everything but eating. She looked down and saw her plate was totally clean.
How weird, she had thought at the time. Like I was in some sort of a spell or something.
Of course she was in a spell. His spell. A spell he could twist and curl as it suited him. With a knowing smile, he gazed their passions back into them.
Seconds later the three of them ascended the steps to her room and there, in the utter darkness he insisted upon, Davette sought within her some sense of shame as she lay listening to the couple embrace beside her on her cool sheets. But she could find no sense of shame or jealousy or anything other than pounding, aching need for her turn to come soon.
Soon, it did, and with it a bizarre hope that her cries would be as loud and thrilling as Kitty's.
When Davette paused a moment and Felix leaned forward to hand her the glass of water, she felt the heavy silence of the motel room. She realized she had looked at nothing besides the floor and Felix's face for the past, two hours and she made herself look up and face their troubled expressions. They gazed uneasily back and she knew it was out of concern for her - she could read that. But she knew it was from embarrassment also. For the sexual charge was as heavy as the silence.
It's not your fault! she wanted to shout.
But she knew they wouldn't believe her. Not yet. They wouldn't understand that it was not them, it was a piece of them. A piece the magic had tainted her with and a piece she now passed on.
They wouldn't understand.
Still, she should try. And she did. She tried to tell them about the feeling of the bite, about the warping volcanic pleasure rolling through you, vibrating and caressing and powering you deep into your memory and far into your fantasies.
"Didn't it hurt?"
She stopped, looked around. It was Carl Joplin. His face softened and he smiled at her.
"I'm sorry, sugar. But we are talking about someone biting you."
"And sucking your blood out," added Cat.
Carl nodded, but his tone remained gentle. "And sucking your blood. It must - "
"But you don't know that!" insisted Davette. "You aren't aware. You don't know you're losing blood. There's so much else going on, you.
"You mean he's also..." whispered Annabelle before catching herself and blushing.
Davette's voice was harsh and bitter. "No. No sex. Vampires can't have sex. Oh, the women can... pretend. And they do. But it isn't real. It isn't life. They're dead."
It was quiet for a while while they digested this.
And Felix thought, looking at her: There's still something left to you, isn't there, beauty?
But he didn't smile. She wouldn't know it was admiration.
Davette had another sip of water and tried to explain some more:
"There are really three stages to it. The first is... well, it just never occurs to you. Vampires? That's for movies, you know?"
They nodded. Yes, they knew.
She had another sip. "It's just sort of... kinky, I guess. And everyone has a part of them that likes and wants that. Vampires swell that desire inside of you and... Well, you're enjoying it and it seems harmless.
"That's the first stage.
"In the second part you're so much of an addict for it, you don't want to examine what's going on. It holds you and controls you. You don't really ever think about anything else - you don't want to look at it. Because you... You don't want to think about it."
"And the third stage?" asked Felix. "You know then?"
Davette nodded wearily. "You know. The pretense is past. He lets you know. He lets you see it. And it's awful to see, the things they do to the living, the terrible smiles they get when they twist us. And..."
She drifted off, looking at something behind her eyes.
"'And'..." Felix gently nudged.
She looked at him and her smile was grim and tight. "Maybe the worst part is not the knowing, the... admitting. The worst part is that you realize you knew, you always knew, deep down inside you, from the first.