Until I Fade Page 2

  "Calm down," the woman said.

  Jensen didn't say a word.

  No one cares, he told himself.

  His brain raced, making associations and trying to make sense of this and the word vampire appeared constantly. The creatures had returned to their normal human state, no fangs or glowing eyes anymore, but Jensen knew they had the ability to switch any time in case he made noise. The woman was controlling him somehow so even if he did make noise, he wouldn't get very far. Where were they taking him? How would they kill him? Would it be painful? His life might end that very night, and this sudden awareness made Jensen yearn for something to hold on to until the worst happened. He wanted to think back to a time with a happy memory, something that would make all of this seem less unpleasant. But all he could think about was the way the boy in Austin's room had looked under the glow of the light source above him, like an angel. He wondered if the supernatural association had something to do with the fact that he thought he was possessed by darkness and he decided he didn't care.

  The way that boy had looked might very well be the last good thing he would have access to in this life.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Liam pushed himself off the carpeted floor with the bloodstains on it. His face hurt and when he touched his lip he realized the blood had come from him. There was a feeling of poison attacking his insides. Naked, he rushed to the bathroom and unburdened his body. But no amount of puking could force it completely out of his system, and Liam still felt the remnants inside of him, creating a sick layer of new toxins above all the old toxins. It was like a mass grave in there. He wondered how long it would be before his body decided to quit taking the abuse, most of which he did himself.

  He couldn't remember a thing about last night. The last thing he remembered was doing drugs with Austin. He touched the bruise on his chest that ached badly enough for him to wish not to hurl again. There was no sign of Austin anywhere, but the man was fond of leaving his presence behind in the form of physical pain. Right in front of Liam, the full-length mirror showed what seemed to be his reflection but he didn’t recognize it. The bruise on his face was purple and his cut lips were swollen three times their size. Like the soul that was forced to live inside his body, Liam felt trapped.

  Austin scared him, and yet he couldn't stop seeing him because the man was dangerous. Every time Liam so much as indicated that he had to leave, Austin would get mad. This room at PRY was pretty much Liam's living space nowadays. But despite Austin's treatment of him, Liam couldn't say that it was worse than going back to the streets. How fucked up was that? When he was certain there was no more of that poison to follow, he went back to the room. He tried the door to see if it was unlocked, something he did every day, every single time after Austin, left but again he was disappointed.

  He gazed some more at the white carpet stained with his blood. The drops imprisoned, just like him in a stilted background of flawless beauty. He checked the room for leftover drugs. He couldn't change anything about his life but at least he could choose not to feel the pain. There was some coke on the table in a vial and Liam took it to the bed, snorted it right out of the vial until he was sufficiently high, until the aches of yesterday were a blurry line in his peripheral vision and he was sitting on a cloud of mindless indifference. He fell back on the soft pillow and stared at the ceiling.

  Why was the world forcing him to be that way? Making it so hard for him to achieve any form of happiness? He heard sounds outside and Austin came into the room. Once Liam had asked him what would happen if there was a fire and he had to escape, and Austin had simply said Liam would probably die. Since then Liam had been careful not to cause any fires. But sometimes, on the bad days when Austin would leave him here, Liam felt like a fire death might not be a bad idea after all. Of course, so far he hadn't quite had the nerve to kill himself in any direct way.

  The darker side of him hoped Austin would make it happen one way or another and take the matter out of Liam's hands. But it didn't look like Austin was about to end his misery any time soon. "You're awake," Austin said, as though there was no bloodstain on the carpet that he had caused, and as though the pain and the bruises and the open wounds existed solely in Liam's imagination. "Sit up, you can't sleep all day," Austin said.

  Liam wanted to ask why he couldn't, but instead he sat up straight in bed. "I woke up and you weren't there," he said. "Thought you might—"

  "Have died?" Austin finished for him. "Finally left you alone? No such luck, sweetheart."

  "What happened last night?" Liam asked.

  Austin placed the bags of food on the table and took a seat on the adjoining chair. "You don't remember?" he asked. "Not a thing?"

  Liam shook his head.

  "You were being a little brat," Austin said. "So I had to force some sense into you."

  "I woke up with blood in my mouth."

  "Don't be such a drama queen."

  "You left me," Liam said, hurt. "You left me on the floor."

  "What was I supposed to do? Carry your princess ass to the bed?"

  Liam thought of all the times Austin had practically lifted him to get him to do what he wanted. Austin was athletic and muscular—the sort who could haul sort who could lift two guys, if they were built like himself, without so much as a grimace. But apparently last night he couldn't be bothered to do it. Somehow, instead of shutting up, which is what he should have done, Liam went on. "You can't keep doing this," he said. "You need to let me go."

  Austin got up from the chair. He walked up to Liam and his fingers landed on Liam's throat. "You think you can talk back to me, you little slut?" Austin said, pressing on Liam's Adam's apple. "You were turning tricks and I made you mine. And you dare to complain to me?"

  "Please," Liam managed, trying to pry Austin's fingers off his neck. He was having trouble breathing. Still with his hold on Liam's neck, Austin pushed Liam aside. He went back to the table and started taking the food out of the cartons. "Come," he said to Liam and forced him to sit next to him on the table. Then Austin forced him to eat. Liam silently swallowed whatever was in the carton without saying another word for as long as the meal lasted.

  There was a time back when he was in the streets when he didn't even have access to food. There were occasions when Liam had to make do with drinking water and trying to appease his stomach. He always hated going to those soup kitchen type places unless it was absolutely necessary. Going without food for a couple of days amounted to nothing more than the price of doing business in Liam’s book. The silly pride might have been a remnant of Liam's previous life, the few formative years he spent in a nice house with his parents and going to a regular school.

  Now, he could barely remember the time. His life was limited to the here and now of whatever shitty existence he was trudging through. If he had enough of the drugs to last him one day, then he considered himself lucky. If he made enough money turning tricks to pay for another day's food and junk, then he was happy. Of course, that was before he had ended up in Wentworth, before he had ended up in PRY, and before he had ended up with Austin. He had come to the town on a hunch. He was sick of the big city he had been living in all those years where he felt invisible.

  Wentworth turned out to be different. Because it was a small town there weren't a lot of sex workers and Liam was getting good business, from both men and women, mostly men. But then Austin bought him off his handler, the same woman who managed the brothel where he worked. When the date had happened Liam had been glad. His handler had told him the man was loaded. She just ignored telling him that the man was also a well-known local mob boss who had allegedly killed two hustlers he had been with. Naturally, the handler couldn't do much to help him.

  Like Liam, she too was stuck in the spiral of real life. It forced her to do things she otherwise wouldn't, made her act in ways that she probably wouldn't accept in any other reality. Her entire business depended on people like Austin. She needed the man's power to run a successful brothel. Austin's mo
ney must have come in pretty handy too. Austin took him in a private room and spent the entire night with him. It wasn't bad actually. The man was fun and he had all kinds of drugs on him, quality stuff. Liam had a good time. It was when he tried to leave in the morning that Austin got pissed and revealed his true self.

  "I used to be like you," Austin said. "On the streets with nowhere to go. I thought I was going to die without anyone even knowing I existed, but I changed all that. I was strong. Never allowed people to just walk all over me. But you, Liam, you're weak. You can't be expected to take care of yourself. You're young now, you'll find tricks but what happens when you grow up… have you thought of that? What happens when you wake up one day and find that your youth, the only thing you can give in exchange for a few bucks, is gone? How'll you get your drugs then? How'll you last? You need something stable, someone who'll take care of you. I like you, boy. You know that much. And I'm willing to give it all to you so why would you want to leave?"

  Liam stared at the empty food cartons with their grease stains. "I can't stay here forever."

  "I didn't mean here," Austin said. "Why don't you come home with me, huh? I have a nice little house; we can both make it a home. Would't you like that? After everything you've been through on the streets, how do you think you'll survive without me?"

  "I'll manage."

  Austin surprised Liam with a hard slap. "You think I'm going to let you fuck other men now?" he said. "You think I'm going to just let you walk out of here without any consequences? I'll make sure that cunt handler of yours never hires you back. You came to this town for a reason—you wanted to make it here. Well, good luck doing that when no handler is going to touch you, and no one is going to let you hustle in their spot. I'll make sure of it. Your only option will be to leave town and go back to the hell that you were living in before."

  Liam wanted to feel hate.

  "You're a sorry excuse for a person," Austin said. "I'm surprised you made it this far with your selfishness. But it won't last, Liam. Sooner or later you're going to have to come to terms with reality."

  Still not hate.

  Something close, familiar, but not even adjacent to the territory of hatred. Something finally snapped inside him. He could no longer feel anything as he was supposed to feel it. Two years earlier a trick had tried to kill him and ended up slicing his belly with a box cutter. A fucking box cutter. It had hurt like hell and Liam had thought he was going to die. Before that, he had been reckless. He enjoyed fucking men and getting paid for it had seemed like less of a problem. It had seemed like something he could handle. Most days in fact, Liam found himself wanting the men in close proximity, not because they were going to pay him but because they would fuck him. That need inside him, to be with someone, it drove him to the strangest places. But not once had he truly felt the fear as he did that day. The same fear that somewhere inside he could still sense around Austin. He had been doing drugs since he was fifteen but after the incident with the box cutter he started needing them even more. Everything changed that day. The only thing that didn't change was the fact that Liam still couldn't work a proper job. The drugs claimed too much of him for Liam to give anyone anything.

  "I'm offering you a home," Austin said. "A life. Perhaps you shouldn't be so quick to disregard it."

  Liam thought back to a time when he had to fuck tricks while he still had stitches in his belly. Back then he had felt like someone was punishing him. Back then he had felt like he was so tiny a speck in this world that it didn't matter much what he did. A trick during a post-sex talk had told him about Chaos Theory. How even a seemingly significant event could change the course of events in the world; a tiny butterfly flapping its wings in Sydney could cause a blizzard in New York City. But Liam never caused any blizzards. As he went through life, largely overlooked, he started thinking of himself as some form of invisible being; an imperceptible, unnoticeable speck hurtling about in space at random with millions of other invisible specks. It was the only way he could make sense of this strange world. He was a tiny dot of nothing, a point, a particle, and that's all he was ever allowed to be. There were people who were merging, making universes with other people, but Liam wasn't part of that system. Every night when he went to bed he imagined himself hurtling out of that space and into a black hole – and he fantasized about being obliterated.

  "Austin?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I accept your offer," Liam said.

  Austin looked like he had won a lottery. Liam guessed even psychos like Austin needed something to feel good about. From what he had surmised about Austin, he liked to think that he was a good person. When he hit Liam, Austin rationalized first and took care of him later. Most of the time he didn't even take care of him, but Liam no longer lived his life waiting for someone to do that. He knew that if he wanted a home—a house to go back to—he would have to choose Austin over some crappy life trying to make it on his own in a new town he knew nothing about. Even if he had known the town like he had known the city, it wouldn't make a difference, he would still be screwed ten ways from Sunday. Being with Austin might just be the answer to everything, at least for the time being. How bad could it be? He had survived two drug overdoses and a stabbing—well, if you considered hustling survival—perhaps he could survive Austin. Perhaps he was the only one who could.

  Austin rubbed his fingers where he had just slapped Liam, the same side where previous bruises already discolored his skin. "You're a nice boy, Liam," he said. "I'm going to give you all the money you need, everything you can think of I'll buy it for you. You'll get the best clothes money can buy; you'll wine and dine wherever you want. I know you know the importance of all that, and I know you'll appreciate it. All I want from you in return is respect. You know I can't stand it when you mouth off to me. And I don't like it when you don't talk to me, makes me feel like I'm torturing you or something. That's not a nice feeling, is it? If I do nice things for you, I need nice things in return. As long as you do as I say, I'll make sure you get the best. I have a thing for you and you know that. I'm not going to betray you or sleep around. You won't either, will you, Liam?"

  Liam shook his head.

  "Well then," Austin said. "I'll make the arrangements today. I need to get our room set up."

  "Thank you," Liam said.

  Someone was ripping the butterfly's wings but there was no sign of a blizzard or any changes anywhere. Liam waited for a storm but he knew the only storm was the one overwhelming his insides, turning him into stone.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The spell broke the minute Jensen stepped into Dalgard Mansion. It was one of the most popular and, simultaneously, the most infamous properties in Wentworth. Jensen had heard things about the owner that he was a secretive person but not a lot of people actually knew him. The Dalgard Mansion was a Castle Dracula of sorts; there were all sorts of legends about it because it was an old estate. The female handcuffed Jensen's hands behind his back. Jensen struggled but only managed to rip a few buttons on his shirt and not much else. The girl maintained a vise grip on his arm, and she and the other vampires led Jensen inside the house to a large den where four older vampires, two females and two males, were seated on antique leather sofas and armchairs. The female vampire shoved Jensen toward the older-looking vampires and made him kneel in front of them. Each one of them looked at Jensen like he was a meal they were about to devour. It might not have been far from the truth. They looked human enough but Jensen could sense something cold and vicious about them.

  "Hello," someone said and Jensen turned to see a tall, strongly-built male in his thirties standing behind him who looked at Jensen and said, "What's all this?"

  One of the older female vampires spoke. "Kent," she addressed the one who had just now entered the room. "He has been chosen."

  "He looks weak," Kent said.

  "The blood will make him strong," the female argued.

  The vampire they called Kent studied Jensen's face. His blue eyes were calc
ulating. The vampire's gaze fell to Jensen's neck but he quickly tore himself away. "I'm not doing it," he said, taking his place on one of the armchairs surrounding Jensen. "He's way too pathetic."

  One of the older vampires said, "Are you being squeamish?"

  Kent laughed. "Squeamish?" His face had contorted into something monstrous and his fangs were on show with his now-glowing blue eyes. He looked dangerous as he spoke the next words. "Either of you interested in watching me tear his head off? Would that prove I'm not squeamish?"

  "Enough," the second female vampire who had been quiet up till then raised her voice. "You two will stop bickering and Kent, you will do as you're told. I will not say this twice." Something in her voice made an impact on the others as neither of them, including Kent, said a word in response. The vampire stayed in his chair, and from where he was kneeling on the carpeted floor Jensen sensed his fury. There was something unpleasant about the way he looked at Jensen.

  Finally, the vampire stood. "As you wish," he said. His face was no longer contorted and looked human again. He grabbed Jensen by the throat and pulled him up. With his hands still tied behind his back, there wasn't much Jensen could do to stop him. The vampire was back to studying Jensen's face, his mouth drawn up in a smile that was mocking more than it was anything pleasant.

  "Please," Jensen said. "Please don't do it!"

  The vampire's smile grew wide. Still with his hold on Jensen's throat he sank his teeth into Jensen's neck. The pain was horrible and Jensen tried to block it out. But there was no getting away from the vampire and what he was doing. Jensen looked at the creatures surrounding him, felt like he was descending into darkness and he wanted badly to stop – the only reason Jensen was still vertical was because the vampire was practically holding him up. Then the vampire pulled out his fangs from Jensen's neck. The sight of his own blood on the vampire's complacent face made Jensen angry. Someone undid the handcuffs, setting his hands free, and Jensen sank to the floor.