100% Freshie Chapter 2 --PG-13

[librarian_7]

Disclaimer: The characters from Moonlight are copyrighted by CBS, and no infringement is intended.

Special note: This work takes place in the world of Moonlight, but your favorite vamps are not the main focus. Sorry about that; try to enjoy the story anyway. You might be surprised.

100% Freshie

Chapter 2

Hollywood, 1923

William Harrison Spence smoothed back his cornsilk blond hair, wishing he had some pomade to make sure it stayed in place. Stepping out of his big open-topped touring car, he adjusted the white silk scarf around his neck as he walked up the curving drive to the imposing house perched on the crest of the Hollywood hills. It was dusk, and the lights of the house blazed like a beacon, drawing him in. He could hear the sounds of the party already, music and the low roar of laughter and a crowd, and a frown crossed his lean, handsome face.

Maybe he wasn’t a star, maybe not yet, but it was coming, he could feel it. And he’d anticipated better treatment from that spoiled little rich girl, the house’s owner, Serena Truxton. He’d thought they’d have a private date tonight, not another party. Ah, well, it was to be expected, he supposed. She had one of the best supplies of smuggled liquor in town, so of course the parasites were constantly in attendance. He’d spoken to her more than once about it, thinking that as a woman alone she needed the guidance of a strong man, but she just laughed at him and told him she was older than she looked, and she’d be all right. “Nights are for dancing and drinking, William” she said, signaling her displeasure with her use of his full name, but promptly negating it with her smile. “So let’s dance.”

“Willie!” Serena called out as he walked in. She was standing on the stairs, and his actor’s eye recognized that she was carefully posed, the grand sweep of the staircase making a perfect backdrop for her exquisite beauty. He hoped briefly that she was older than she looked, as she said, because he would have thought her no more than 17, a petite brunette with a pale porcelain complexion and a shining cap of black hair styled into the very latest bob. Tonight she wore an emerald green dropped waist dress, covered with sequins that flashed in the light like her eyes, and a long strand of pearls. Will smiled to see her; he liked to see women, especially his women, dressed well. She made a vaguely welcoming gesture with the long jade cigarette holder in her left hand, as she trailed the right down the balustrade of the staircase. “It is—delicious—to see you this evening, darling,” she said, her voice startlingly low and throaty for such a small woman.

He met her at the bottom of the stairs and took her hand, bowing over it to kiss the dainty fingers with their blood-red lacquered nails. “That should be my line, dearest. You’re looking particularly edible tonight yourself.”

Her laughter pealed out like silver bells, and she cast him an amused look up through her heavily mascaraed lashes. “You may just get a chance to find that out, later,” she said. She took a drag from her cigarette, and Will found the sight of those very red lips tightened around the carved jade to be strangely enticing. He followed her into the ballroom, where the party had apparently been going on for some time. Serena laid her hand on his arm, and wandered through the bright throng, nodding and speaking to some, laughing at others. Something about the party seemed odd, off, to Will, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. More than once, he noticed young women offering men their wrists in an odd, practiced gesture, a delicate showing of the soft inner skin. Others turned their necks, gracefully drawing aside scarves, to receive the kisses of their escorts. There were young men as well, boys with their collars undone and their shirt cuffs turned casually back, with a look in their eyes that seemed to signal both rebellion and submission. Will was familiar with the more unconventional aspects of life within the film colony, but this…this had him perplexed with an atmosphere going beyond decadence, beyond debauchery. And even for a Hollywood party, there seemed to be an unusual number of people in drunken stupor scattered around the rooms. When Serena noticed them, she signaled to her staff to cover them with light blankets. More than once she dropped a crimson-nailed hand to stroke the cheek of a sleeper, caressing them as one might pet a favored dog. There were plenty of party-goers still on their feet, and the band seemed inexhaustible in its repertoire. As the night grew deeper, Serena seemed ever more ethereal, and at the same time more animated. She pulled Will into the dance, and made sure his glass was never quite empty. When he noticed she never took a drink herself, she claimed not to be thirsty. “I can slake my thirst later,” she told him with a smile.

He wasn’t sure how it happened, but at some point he lost track—of time, place, everything. The next thing he knew, he was in a bedroom he’d never seen before, and Serena seemed to be quite literally shredding his evening jacket and the snowy white shirt beneath it, even as they devoured each other’s mouths in the heat of their passion. Will took his arms away from her long enough to shed the remains of his jacket, and was working on his shirt even as he tried to maneuver her toward the bed, wanting to fall with her into its embrace, but she was surprisingly difficult to move. He felt her lips on his neck, the teeth feeling strangely sharp. He knew she loved to nibble at his neck; they’d done their share of kissing in his car, and in the sheltered booths of Hollywood restaurants. Her kisses made him woozy, almost forgetful, as though time and his strength had slipped away into her emerald eyes. Now, as they kissed, he could feel his knees growing weak, as though he wanted to fall and worship at her feet. He wanted to cherish her, every silken inch of her, with his hands and his lips. Even from her kiss, it was as though she knew every hidden, secret desire in his mind, and was ready to fulfill them. He wanted, he wanted…for the first time since he was a boy, he was unsure of his own desires, but he knew that she was there, and willing.

Then, quite suddenly, she pushed away from him, and covered her face. “Will,” she said from behind the screen of her hands, “I’m sorry, but we’ve got to talk.”

The room was spinning under his feet. Too much champagne, he thought. He backed away blindly and found an easy chair, dropping into it awkwardly. This wasn’t quite right. If she had a tearful confession to make, surely he should be on his feet, holding her reassuringly in his strong arms. That was the way they always showed it on screen, anyway. But Serena was talking, and she didn’t sound exactly tearful.

“Tell me, Will,” she said, “just how important is your screen career to you?”

The question was like a cold bucket of water thrown in his face. Was this blackmail? Careers—promising ones at that—had been ruined by a whiff of scandal. If she yelled rape, and ripped her dress, with the condition of his clothing there would be no getting past it. He knew for a fact that some of the people downstairs would love to be involved in getting another promising young face dragged into the mud. It would get their name in the papers, and publicity trumped everything in this town. Suddenly much soberer, he spoke carefully, “Serena, why are you asking that?”

She seemed to be making an effort to control herself. Finally, with a deep sigh, she lowered her hands, and he saw that the black mascara around her brilliant green eyes was smeared a bit. “Because I almost did something I might regret, Will. I almost gave you a gift you might not want.”

Will swallowed, jumping to the first conclusion he could think of. “You have some kind of—disease?” The thought was distasteful, but he knew such things happened. At 28, he was a man of the world. He’d lived through the war, seen enough death and decay to last several lifetimes, there in the trenches of France. What he wanted now, and maybe for the rest of his life, was color and joy and—and he didn’t know exactly what, but he was willing to keep looking for it. And diseases—it would be hard, when he wanted this woman so much, but he could walk away. He would walk away. Now.

Serena shook her head. “No, no it’s not that, Will. Not that at all. In fact, it’s just the opposite.”

He leaned back in the chair, and gave her that lazy, easy grin that was becoming his trademark screen expression. “Well, now, in that case, why don’t you come over here and tell me more, darlin’.”

She smiled, but made no move toward him. “I’m serious. Before we go further, you have to listen to me. You have to understand.” And, carefully, she began to explain.

At first, his smile stayed in place. It couldn’t be true, right? It sounded like that German film from a year or two back—what was it? Nosferatu? But with every detail, with every sentence, it started seeming more and more real. And as he listened, his smile slowly slipped away.

Finally, she paused, and he looked her in the eye. “Why, Serena? Why do you want me to believe this about you?”

“Because I want to love you as fully as I can. I want to Turn you.”

“Turn me? You mean—make me a vampire? Like you?”

She nodded. “You don’t really believe me, do you? I’m trying to tell you something important.” He’d have expected her to pull one of her adorable pouts, but she was maintaining complete, soulful seriousness.

He raised one hand and scratched absently at his face. “I’m trying, Serena, I’m really trying. You have to admit this is hard to believe.”

Serena paced the room for a few minutes, trying to think what to say next. “All right, Will, you’re an imaginative man. Consider—consider—what if everything I’m telling you is absolute truth? Just think—what if? I can give you eternal youth, strength, and powers you can’t begin to imagine.”

“That all sounds good.”

“But along with it you get to forget about being in film. Your image won’t show up because of the silver. And there are other—far more serious—consequences.”

Will thought. As long as they were playing this game, he could go along with it. “So I’ll go on the stage instead. I’ve had offers from Broadway.”

“Think about it, Will. Ten, twenty years and you’ll need to change your name, change your career. And again, and again.” Serena couldn’t tell if she was getting through to him or not. His heartbeat was steady, his breathing even. She tried again. “This is for real, Will. Don’t humor me. Believe me.”

He scrubbed his hand across his face, blue eyes thoughtful. “And I also get you, right?”

She pursed her red lips. Her fangs were aching for this man, for his bright, sweet blood. “For a time.”

He quirked his eyebrows up, smiling at her. “In that case, I expect I can learn to deal with it.” He paused. “Why don’t you come over here, babe?”

She turned to face him, green eyes glowing in the dim light. “I should send you away,” she said. “At least for a few days. Let you think this over.”

Will shook his head. “The answer would be the same. Today, tomorrow, next year.”

Serena considered it for a moment, then shrugged. “It’s your choice, Will. Remember that. Always remember that.” She stepped out of her shoes as she approached the chair where he lounged, waiting, and carefully straddled his narrow hips, setting one knee on either side of him. Somehow, Will was unsurprised to discover that above the sheer hose rolled on their round garters, beneath the emerald silk of her dress, she was quite naked, and his body reacted, heating with anticipation. Serena laughed, sliding her hands around his head, pulling his face forward to meet her kiss. He closed his eyes, savoring the taste of her mouth, thinking the points of her delicate fangs an illusion against his tongue. He could feel the entire length of her body against him. Then she moved her hands caressing his cheeks gently, and moved her face away from his.

“Look at me, Will,” she said softly. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

He complied, frowning and still at the sight of her silver eyes, at the sight of her extended fangs. She looked like a feral, dangerous beast, and he found himself all the more excited. For a long moment he stared into her face, fascinated. “Then it’s true?” he breathed. “It’s all true?”

The vampire Serena, that strange being who wore Serena’s body, nodded. “You can still change your mind, Will. But this is your last chance.”

He found that he was shaking, whether from fear or desire he was never afterwards quite sure. Maybe it was something in between. Either way, he slowly smiled and shook his head. “Can’t you tell I’m ready for you?” he said, voice husky and intense with need. She listened to his heart, beating ever stronger, faster, and inhaled the scent of his desire, the very maleness of him. She licked her lips at the heady, delicious sensations she read flowing off him. Serena smiled back, and lowered her red mouth to the white skin of his waiting throat.

[francis]

I love flashbacks. So Spence didn’t change his name and stayed in LA, like some other vamp I used to know.
I can so see Serena in her golden 20s outfit, ready to do the charleston. And a party room with vamps and freshies, Will not knowing about what he sees. Your description is very vivid, as if I’m there. I love the conversation in the bedroom, him being totally oblivious at first, her being desperate in her love. She did quite well to make him understand and believe, and he is fascinated. Why couldn’t Coraline have done the same with Mick, it would have worked out so much better. But then we wouldn’t have our reluctant hero.

[allegrita]

Wow--such parallels with Mick and Coraline. It does make one wonder "what if"... but you've done a great job of showing that even when you KNOW, even when you're given a choice, it's not an informed choice. You can't know what it is you are agreeing to. No one could...especially after just a few minutes to think about it...or not think, in this case.

So Will was a rising young star...and he gave it all up in the rush of passion. What is it about these vampire women that they don't have sex with the man they turn?? Are they just too impatient?