Chapter 2

I touched my hair where golden highlights had sprouted and ran my hands down my body--my much thinner body. I wasn't wearing a bra under my T-shirt so I could feel that my breasts had perked up considerably. My waist had narrowed, and when I felt my stomach it was tight and muscular.

"Oh ... shit." I gripped my ass, fearful that my ghetto-booty would have disappeared. I was relieved to find it still present and even more booty-licious since I now had an hourglass figure. I'm not saying I was a size two, but I was freaking hot!

I paced back and forth cursing and admiring my new looks. Again I tried to determine if I was afraid—I should have been, but I wasn't. I looked too damned good, and I wasn't even going to pretend. I tried to piece together the exact events of what happened once I left Club Midnight with what's-his-name. Tige. If he wasn't a rapist, then did we … do it?

It was fuzzy. We'd driven to his place, I think. I remember a sparsely furnished apartment. He'd been talking and had kissed my neck in a way that made me feel weak afterwards. Other than that, the only thing I remember was him thanking me for a lovely time. He hadn't even touched me in a sexual way, but I felt as if I was in the afterglow of the best sex of my life. He was driving me home, and I remember an explosion of light!

A car hit ours, on my side. I remembered! We had been in an accident, and I had been thrown out onto the street. Bits and pieces of my memory began returning. The Rasta had been standing over me, and then I was being carried, a sensation as if I were flying. The next thing I remember was him and me at my home. He had made me invite him in, repeating it over and over again until I could speak the words.

The memory of last night made my legs weak. I sat, my mouth going dry. I couldn't bring up any more memories.

After inviting him in, there was nothing.

~*~

As much as I wanted to sit on my couch curled into a ball of sorrow, I knew that I had to find some answers.

I had the vampire teeth and unnatural otherworldly beauty. I had amazing speed, but what about strength?

I looked for something to move or pick up. The stove. I had dropped a slice of carrot on the side of the stove a week ago and had meant to move it so that I could sweep it out.

I opened the oven door enough to slip my hand inside for a good grip. It took absolutely no effort to lift! My stove felt as if it was made of foam. I dropped it with a thud.

"Shit!" I shook my hands as if a spider had crawled across my fingers. "Okay, I'm a vampire. Shit, I'm a vampire." Saying it out loud helped to calm me. "Vampires drink blood. Do I want to drink blood?"

The idea of blood did not seem appealing at all. Okay, no desire for blood. I grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. I guzzled down half of it before it came right back up. Of course that could just be because I was queasy. I decided that test was inconclusive.

What about garlic? Was I now repelled by garlic? That would be a shame since I don't think you can make a decent meal without lots of garlic.

I searched the fridge for a jar of minced garlic. I didn't have any. But I knew I had some garlic powder. I picked it up from the spice rack. Cool, almost a full container. I twisted off the top and sniffed. Nothing. I sprinkled a bit onto my finger. Nothing. There was no burning sensation or whatever is supposed to happen when a vampire comes into contact with garlic. One vampire myth blown. I'm not sure if garlic powder is really garlic, so maybe that test is only semi-conclusive.

What about crosses and religious artifacts? I had a cross on a necklace in my jewelry box. I hurried back to my bedroom and opened my jewelry box. I reached inside and felt a jolt of fire. The sensation was like being electrocuted and it was both immediate and incredibly painful. It knocked me on my ass. After I had got my wits back and could investigate, I discovered that it hadn't been the cross that had burned me but my silver loop earrings. Oh, hell no! No no no no no! I couldn't wear silver anymore? I had spent serious money on my jewelry, and I couldn't wear half of it?

After sucking on my burning fingers to reduce the pain, I was too scared to think about touching the cross. Silver hurt too much. What about sunlight? It was dark out, just after nine at night. I decided to test that in the morning.

I never got into the whole vampire craze, so all my knowledge of vampire came from my collection of Blaxploitation movies—in particular Blacula and Scream, Blacula, Scream. I remembered how that African vampire had howled and screamed when he was reduced to ashes after being exposed to the sun.

I wasn't all that anxious to recreate the experience. I've been ashy, but I don't want to be ashes.

I could see my own reflection, but could I shape-shift? Didn't vampires turn into bats or mist or something? I concentrated until I felt like a serious dumbass because it was evident that I was not even close to changing into something else.

Was ... was I dead? How could I test that? I didn't want to consider it. If I could walk around and think then I was alive, and I was not going to get all caught up in labels—death, vampire, undead.

To get real answers, I needed to return to Club Midnight. Somebody had turned me, leaving me with no answers, no instructions, nothing. That just wasn't right!

I got ready to go out. Although I was a vampire, it didn't mean that I was going to walk up in the club looking jacked up. I dressed in a black silk shirt without a bra to show off my newly perky boobs. I dug through the back of my closet for a pair of black pants that a day earlier I would have been bursting out of. Now they hugged my curves and looked the way I had wanted them to look on me when I first purchased them—before I had tossed them into the back of the closet when I couldn't squeeze my big thighs into the legs. Next I pulled on my low-heeled boots instead of spiked heels in case I needed to do some running.

I didn't need any makeup, but I put on some lipstick and styled my highlighted natural. Let's be real. When a sister goes natural, we have these images of flowing locks and twirls. My hair persisted in being a giant-ass Afro puff that I couldn't comb. I was pleased that I now had a natural that spiraled without the use of rods or Dark and Lovely hairdressing.

I studied myself in my mirror, truly happy that I could see my reflection because I really looked hot! Using an emery board, I fished a black choker made of strips of leather and polished black wood from my jewelry box. I spritzed myself with So Sexy perfume. I looked good and everything, but I couldn't get those freaking teeth to go back in. I guess I would have to do the Mona Lisa smile. I practiced it for a few seconds before leaving for the club.

I got into my car and headed to the club alone. When I arrived, it was nicely crowded. The DJ was cranking the new joint by Lil Wayne, and the dance floor was crowded. I've always held my own in any environment, but I no sooner entered the club before I had the attention of half a dozen brothas!