Title: "Contagion: Blood & Jasmine"
Rating/Classification: AC, Lorenzo/Carly, AU, language.
Disclaimer: Nope, not my characters.
Summary: A flashback ficlet in the "Contagion" universe. What exactly happened when Lorenzo was vamped?
"Get out," she whispers, raising the Glock from its place beneath her pillow, leveling it right between his bewildered blue eyes.
"Wh-what?" They are still human eyes. She doesn't understand that. How he can look so confused, so shocked, so loving...still. "Carly..." Or maybe she's hypnotized all ready.
She shakes her head. Just her head. Her hand is perfectly steady. "Get out, Lorenzo," she repeats, emphatically, shocked when her voice stays calm as well.
He's naked. So is she. The sweat of their love-making is cooling on her skin and she wants to go ten more rounds. She always wants him. Even that first day on the Pier, seeing him in owlish glasses and tweed as he walked back from PCU. She'd yelled at him. "You fucking idiot! Don't you know there are vampires running around loose?"
"I can take care of myself," he'd assured, looking more appalled by her language than the idea of death. "Do *you* know there are vampires running loose?"
"Gee, no...I had NO idea...and I'm also a helpless female who needs a big, strong, man to walk me home." She'd rolled her eyes.
He'd kissed her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. "I'd be happy to oblige."
Barely a year ago, the vamps had still been outnumbered by the living. By the full blooded humans. Barely a year ago, a can of mace and a switchblade were all a gal needed to protect herself. Well...condoms, too.
She'd taken him back to the Brownstone and peeled off the tweed jacket. They made love all night. They held hands each time, their fingers mimicking the way their bodies entwined. They watched the sunrise.
They'll never see one together again.
He reaches out, places the flat of his palm against her neck. His thumb rubs over the two jagged puncture marks at the base of her throat, as if to erase them. But he can't. "I'm sorry." He sounds as though he's choking. And as though he's completely unafraid of the gun. "I lost myself, Querida. I didn't mean to..."
"Of course you *meant* to!" she cuts him off, savagely, sudden tears blurring her vision. "You're a bloodsucker. It's what you *do*. It's why you exist!"
"No." He pleads with her. Cold...how had she not realized he's cold to the touch now? "I exist to *love you*."
She, slowly, draws back the trigger. She closes her eyes as she takes in a great gulp of air. It tastes like the jasmine-scented candles he lit hours ago. Like sulfur and sex and Hell. "I exist to kill you," she reminds him.
And she reminds herself...
Of Sonny hanging in the park, his neck broken, his body limp, the blood dripping from his feet and his wrists.
Of shoving Michael and Mama in the back of the limo and blowing away half of Leticia's face to keep her off the door.
Of what Lorenzo and his supernatural world means for her and her family.
"Carly...I was changed against my will. Luis knew I only wished to be human. To be normal...and he destroyed that. For sport. He took my life from me. I didn't *want* this."
"But you never *were* normal!" she retorts. "It's *in* you. It's your *family*. And you never told me! You never told me that your brother killed my husband! You never told me you were a freak! That you're somewhere in between dead and alive!" she cries, knowing that these are the cruelest things she can say. Forgetting that Sonny was no longer hers at the time of his death. Taunting Lorenzo and calling him an abomination.
He flinches as if she took her shot. The tips of his canines glisten red and his shoulders tremble. "Didn't I? I told you my brother was violent, insane. I told you I preferred books over bio-weapons and the smell of flowers over the stink of death."
"You didn't tell me *enough*! You didn't tell me the whole truth!" she points out, forcing back a flood of sobs.
"Would the vampire hunter have welcomed a hereditary monster into her bed?" he counters. "Would you have served me sandwiches with your little boy had you known my brother stopped aging at thirty-five? That my cousin Maria chose nineteen? That I was the only child in the clan who could walk in sunlight and they mocked me for it? Mocked me...envied me..." He breaks off, shuddering. "Cursed me."
He's right. She would never have let him walk her home.
"I didn't mind that the Alcazars ran drugs and guns. I was used to that," she agrees, quietly, scrubbing at her damp cheeks with the back of one hand. The other is wavering just the tiniest bit. Not so much trained between his eyes now as longing for his lips. "But there is no way in Hell I would sleep with a vampire. N-not a half-baked one and not a full one. Not even if it was my last day on earth."
She means it.
She means it and still she wants him.
Deep inside her, where no one but him can reach.
In her blood. He's there. Singing in her veins.
In her head. He's there. Whispering that he loves her.
In her heart. He's there, too. And she'll cut him out if she has to.
The gun falls into the tangled sheets.
He tilts her face up, kissing away her tears one by one. And, then, his tongue is coppery in her mouth, metallic with the flavor of her. He doesn't have to breathe...so he kisses her long and hard, until she is gasping, light-headed, and weak.
"This is not good-bye, my Carly," he assures, as he pulls away, reaching down gracefully for the shirt crumpled on the floor.
"It has to be." She memorizes the angles of his hip bones. The curve of his spine. The imprint of his body on hers and the space he's made into his side of the bed. "I want you out of my life. I want you *gone*."
"You fucking idiot," he says, sadly. "You beautiful fucking idiot."
She listens to him take the stairs two at a time, knows he locks all the deadbolts and that she'll probably have to change them.
He's right again.
And she reminds herself...
Of what it was like to be in love.
July 13, 2004.