20: [bluhd/gar-nit]

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***2 Back-to-Back Chapters, woohoo!***


After wasting a few hours on her eighteenth birthday looking for a good place to pick up her next victim, Carmine settles for the Blu Lagoon; a biker bar located in the seedier part of town. The exterior of the building is run down and covered in graffiti. It's main door is also swarming with a host of unsavoury characters standing beside their shiny motorcycles. Muscular, tattooed men spit on the ground as they stamp out their cigarettes. A few scrawnier men with moustaches and facial scars start laughing at some joke.

She doesn't even have to go in to see that it's the perfect place to land her next big catch.

It might not have an eight or nine in there but at this rate, I'm not in a position to be picky.

Satisfied with her discovery of the bar, Carmine speeds home, keen on not being late for the dinner her mother spent all day fussing over.

Dinner is served promptly at seven, as usual. Carmine squirms in her seat, unable to concentrate on her simple task of cutting up her food.

Birthday dinner just isn't the same without Mason. Somehow his solemn but reassuring presence keeps the family together and without him, the mood is...lacklustre.

The veal is tender and juicy, but Carmine only half-heartedly chews her food. She shoves the tines of her fork against the meat, watching the juices ooze out. Then she pushes the root vegetables back and forth across her plate, reluctant to eat them.

Sensing Carmine's disappointment, Red quips, "Cheer up love, finish your dinner and I will give you your present."

Carmine doesn't want any birthday presents. All she wants is for this dreaded day to be over so she can carry on with her life. She doesn't feel any different. Why should they celebrate her entry into adulthood? It's merely a milestone that heralds a new set of legal responsibilities and social obligations, nothing more.

After blowing out eighteen candles in one go, Carmine dips her finger into the icing of her cake. She grimaces. The homemade red velvet cake Red spent the better half of the afternoon making is disgusting. The icing is sickly sweet and the cake itself, crumbly and dry. Carmine forces herself to swallow a few bites, washing it down with a cup of milk. "Thanks Mother, you really shouldn't have done all this."

"This cake tastes like shit," Blake grumbles, not even disguising his contempt. He spits out a mouthful of red slime back onto his plate. Then he walks into the living room and flips on the T.V.

"Language," Red chastises. Then turning to Carmine, she snatches away her fork and grumbles, "Your brother's right. I'm sorry this cake is such a disaster." Red picks up the large cake and dumps it in the trash can. Her lips quiver, as if she is on the verge of a breakdown. Her hands clutch the sides of her dress, twisting the fabric into knots.

"It's fine, Mother. I like it." Carmine makes for the trash bin, attempting to scoop out some of the top bits which didn't touch the trash bag.

"Leave it." Red pulls down a small gift bag from on top of the fridge and hands it to Carmine. "Happy birthday my sweet. Sorry your father couldn't be here. But you know he wouldn't have left if it wasn't important. This is from the both of us."

"I know," Carmine sighs. "Thank you." She takes the bag and unfolding the tissue paper with a crinkle, removes a small ornate metal box. It's sharp black edges are lined in gilded vines. The handiwork is incredible, as if it is handmade. It is also considerably heavy, considering it's small size. By the looks of it, quite old as well. Carmine unhooks the miniature latch at the front of the box and pops it open.

Nestled inside is a large garnet ring. Vintage, by its design and worn condition.

Carmine raises her eyebrows in silent question.

"It belonged to your grandmother on your father's side. She was murdered before you were born and bequeathed this ring to you, her only granddaughter. She didn't have a daughter so the ring fell to you. She said to give it to you on your eighteenth birthday."

Carmine touches the crimson red garnet mounted on top of a faded gold band. For the briefest of moments, it seems as if the inside of the gem liquefies, swirling like blood. She removes the ring from it's satin cushion and instinctively slips it onto her left middle finger.

It's a perfect fit.

The blood jewel glistens under the kitchen light, looking magnanimous on Carmine's delicate white hands. "It's gorgeous," Carmine murmurs, twiddling her fingers back and forth.

She shows off the ring to Blake who glances at it briefly before turning back to his TV show. "Cool ring," he compliments.

"I would say it's a bit more than 'cool'," Carmine replies, still gawking at the piece. She feels so mesmerized by the ring that she never wants to take it off.

Red leans in from behind, resting both hands on each of Carmine's shoulders. "It's lovely. I've heard Mason talk about it but this is the first time I've seen it for myself."

Carmine's lips curl into a twisted smile. She's wearing something Mother has only dreamed about."Does it...you know...have magical properties?"

"You've read too many of those trashy vampire novels," Red laughs. "You can't believe half of what those silly authors write. They let their imaginations run wild when in reality, the vampire world is not nearly as glamorous and romantic as they make it out to be."

"OUR lives are pretty interesting," Carmine points out, "I bet if the Redoza Saga was turned into a book series it would sell out overnight!"

"Perhaps. But we would also become the number one targets on the government and police department's hit list...overnight."

"Well, it would be a fictional book, you see," Carmine argues, "No one would think it's based on fact. They'll just think some clever author has a great imagination and wants to hitch on the already fading vampire book series bandwagon."

Red laughs a throaty laugh, playing along. "And who would pen this international bestseller?"

"I could probably do it. In my spare time." Carmine starts breathing faster, the idea of writing a novel thrumming in her brain. "I'd use a pen name and make a killing off the royalties."

Carmine's quick laughter fades to quiet contemplation when she sees Red's pensive face. With a tinge of sadness, Carmine notes that her mother is already developing deep wrinkles around her eyes and along her forehead.

When did she start getting old?

Red stands up, rubbing her eyes. "You are a funny one. Anyway, I'm going to bed. Good night my love."

"Rest well, mother."

After Red goes upstairs to the master bedroom, Carmine turns to Blake. She sidles up next to him on the sofa. "So, where did you go last night?"

Blake is silent for a few moments, feigning ignorance.

But Carmine doesn't relent. "You didn't come home. You know the rules; you need to tell someone where you're going if you're planning to stay out late. You're lucky I covered for you. So I'm going to ask you again, and don't you dare lie to me, where did you spend the night?"

"I went to a vampire bar and hooked up with a girl okay?" Blake blurts out, unwilling to meet Carmine's gaze.

"You what?!"

"I met some people in an online chatroom. They were interested in some of the supernatural haunts in Richmont so we decided to go to a vampire bar." Blake grips his knee, gaze still glued to the T.V.

"What the hell is a vampire bar?" Carmine stands up and blocks Blake's view of the television. "And do you know how dangerous and recklessly you're acting!" Carmine takes another step forward, gripping Blake's shoulders so hard he cringes in pain.

"Ouch! Let. Me. Go! No one knows I'm a halfie. It's just a bar in Larksdale that's rumoured to be a frequent haunt of vampires. Just a marketing gimmick that's all. It's one of those tourist traps that young people love to sink their money into."

"Who are these people? You don't know anything about them! What if they found out about you? They could've turned you into the cops!"

"They wouldn't even be able to catch me," Blake snickers. "I'm ten times faster than them."

"But now they've seen your face," Carmine points out, her heart racing. Why is Blake always getting into trouble? First that dead girl in Evergrove...now this?

"So what? They're not going to remember what I look like. Besides, they have no reason to be suspicious. We all had a few drinks and I made out with one of the chicks from the chatroom. It was late and I was drunk so she offered me her couch to sleep it off."

"You don't think, do you Blake? What if she was a Vampire Hunter? Or a cop? She could've killed you in your sleep!"

"I...You worry too much sis.""It's my job to worry. And maybe if you stopped doing stupid things I wouldn't have to keep covering your ass. A Detective Swanson came looking for you. He said the police found your saliva all over the dead girl's brains. They think you ate them. Thankfully Father arrived just in time and glamoured him. But we can't keep covering up your mistakes forever. Sooner or later someone will catch on."

"Okay, okay, I will be more careful next time."

"Next time? There will be NO next time. Don't you ever go to that bar again, you hear me? You're only sixteen. Not old enough to drink at a bar yet."

Blake nods absentmindedly. His attentions are focused back on the T.V. screen.

"Hey, look at me," Carmine shouts, "I'm teaching you some life lessons here."

"Carmine, look," Blake points to the screen, his face ashen. His eyes are peeled wide open.

Seeing the fear in Blake's eyes, Carmine turns around.

On T.V., a blurry but gruesome video is being broadcasted. Shot in the dark probably from someone's smartphone, the video shows the mutilated body of a young girl, only ten or eleven years old. Her throat is ripped open with claw marks all along her breastbone. Tattered bloody clothes are scattered around her pale, bloodless corpse. What's even more horrific, another lifeless, cloaked figure is lying right beside her. His tall stature and hefty frame, as well as the sharp fangs protruding between his lips point to one thing: he's a full blood vampire. A dead, full blood vampire. A pointy wooden stake in the shape of a cross is stabbed right through his heart. A look of fear permanently plastered on his face. Come morning, his remains will turn to dust at the first morning sun.

"We need to warn Father," Blake cries, his voice trembling. "There's a hunter in town."

Carmine nods and makes a nosedive for the landline, punching in Mason's cell number.

She explains what she just saw on the news. Mason is unusually calm as he patiently listens to Carmine's frantic voice. After Carmine finally stops talking, Mason replies, "Yes, Carmine. I already knew about her. Everyone in our clan knows about her. I will explain more when I get home. Until then, rest assured, I will keep myself safe."

After Carmine hangs up the phone, she recounts Mason's words to Blake. The two siblings share a moment of confusion and discomfort. If Father already knew about the Hunter, why didn't he tell the rest of us?

After saying 'good night' to Blake, Carmine settles into her bed for a fitful night's sleep.


Thanks for reading, commenting and liking this book so far! Your support means the world to me and motivates me to keep posting new chapters every week! ^^ Chesmok

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