V-Wars

“It’s great to be back home,” Brian answered, smiling as someone in the audience yelled, “We love you, Brian!”



“You’ve made, what, six movies now in the past couple years?” she asked.



“That’s right.”



“When do you sleep? It’s got to be hard to keep up any kind of social life with that kind of schedule. Are you dating anyone?”



“It’s been hectic,” he agreed. “But I love it. I’ve just been focusing on the work for now.”



“What was it like to work with Rob Lowe?” she asked with a dreamy look in her eyes played for the camera. “I think he’s sooo hot, don’t you?”



Brian didn’t rise to the bait. “Rob’s a great guy, and a great actor,” he said, before going into an anecdote about how the two of them climbed a tree in the tropical rainforest during the shoot.



“I bet that was hot, shooting in Brazil for so long. Did Rob Lowe walk around a lot with his shirt off? Because that would have me melting. Does he have great abs or what?”



Brian laughed. “We wore as little as possible during that shoot! But you had to be careful with all the leeches …”



“Tell me about Mel Gibson,” Danika said. “Don’t you think he’s hot? I mean, he’s an older guy now, but still …”



— 3 —



Fifty minutes later, Danika forced herself to stand and grin at the camera while holding one of Heather’s “Boost” bars. But as soon as the “live” light went off on Camera 2, she bolted from the stage. Her nausea had grown throughout the show, and as she talked with Heather about sex and fast food, her body had flashed hot and cold. The idea of eating one of the chewy granola bars (imbued with ginseng for sexual sharpness and some rare herb that supposedly acted like caffeine with a jolt to the libido) made her almost physically sick, despite the fact that her stomach was now growling constantly for food.



“Nice job,” Lon said as she hurried through the door. “We’ll never get Brian James on the show again after that stunt.”



“What?” Danika said with false innocence. “I never asked him once about his gay lovers.”



“No,” Lon admitted. “You just asked him five times about what male actors he thought were hot. And the question about whether he liked to eat bananas fast or slow was really nice.”



“I wish I’d thought to have a prop for that,” she mused.



“Jeez, Danika, why did you have it in for him?”



“Not now,” she said. Her eyes went wide as the sickness inside her shifted and growled. She felt heavy pressure in her stomach and saw a blaze of red across her vision. And then something hot passed her chest and slid up her throat in a sour belch. “I gotta lay down.”



“Do you want another one of my Boost Bars?” Heather called from behind her.



Danika shook her head and felt her stomach heave. Her walk turned to a run and as she pushed open the door of the ladies room, the nausea finally won. Something dark and watery spewed from her mouth to the floor, and Danika didn’t mince words. “Motherfucker,” she coughed, and staggered to the sink, leaving a trail on the floor.



— 4 —



“You’ve lost weight,” Mila Dubov observed, holding the door open to her third floor apartment. “It’s very flattering that you only come to visit me when you’re sick. I’m here all the time, you know, not just when you need some good old Russian soup.”



“You could give me a hug before you crucify, you know,” Danika answered her sister. The two were in some ways like night and day. While they shared their family’s perfect cheekbones, Mila’s hair was blonde, and her whole complexion just a bit lighter. On Danika, their mother’s crystal blue eyes looked seductive; on Mila, they looked wholesome.



Mila shut the door and opened her arms. Danika accepted the hug, and leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder. Mila was like a favorite pillow; warm, soft, familiar. She smelled like home, even after all these years of living apart.



“I have missed you,” Danika said, pulling away as her stomach shifted and growled. Her throat felt like it was swelling.



“Funny way of showing it,” Mila said.



“It’s not nice to kick someone when they’re down, you know.”



“Well, when it’s your only opportunity …”



“Got it, got it!” Danika shushed her with a hand. “Feed me now, beat me later. I’ve gotta get over this bug fast. It’s been killing me all week.”



“You could go to a doctor, you know?”



“Nothing works on a bad cold like Grandma’s soup, and you’re the only one who knows how to make it.”



“It’ll be ready in a little while,” Mila promised, and walked into the kitchen to stir the pot. The room was thick with the smell of garlic and chicken. Danika’s stomach churned, as she watched Mila work, tasting a spoon of the broth and adding a dose of spice from the cabinet. Her body seemed to grow hot, and her gums ached again. She’d had hot and cold flashes before, but what kind of flu made your teeth hurt?



“Have you talked with Dmitri lately?” Mila called from the other room.



“Not in months,” Danika answered. She had to admit that as much as she loved her family, she wasn’t really good at keeping in touch with them. Since her brother had moved to the east coast last year, she’d probably only talked to him on the phone twice.



“Well, at least I’m not the only one that you ignore.”



“No, I’m an equal opportunity self-centered bitch,” Danika laughed. But that laugh was cut short as a sudden pain shot up her gullet and into the back of her mouth. She choked and doubled over on the couch. It felt like barbed wire wrapped and tightened around her belly. Red fireworks swam across her vision, and Danika moaned.



“Oh God, what’s wrong?” Mila said, rushing into the front room. As she did, Danika’s whole body spasmed, and she fell forward from the couch, landing in a ball on the floor.



A guttural moan emanated from her throat. Her whole body felt on fire. Mila bent and put her hands on Danika’s shoulders. Inside Danika’s chest, the fire seemed to burn hotter.



“Pain,” Danika gasped, struggling to look up at Mila. “All through my stomach and throat.”



“Your eyes are bloodshot,” Mila said, staring into her sister’s face. “Danika, you don’t need grandma’s soup, you need a doctor.”



Tears welled in Danika’s eyes. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I didn’t feel this bad a little while ago. Since I got here though …”



“You need to take better care of yourself, honey,” Mila said, and pulled her sister up from the floor to cradle her in her arms, hugging her close. As Danika rested her head on Mila’s shoulder and returned the embrace, she felt the ache in her mouth and the back of her throat flare again. In her head, everything suddenly got fuzzy as the warm scent from Mila’s neck and hair tickled her nose and the heat of her sister’s chest warmed her own. She opened her mouth to let out a yawn, but the exhalation didn’t come, something else did.



Something sharp.



Something hungry.



Something that bit down on Mila’s neck like a wolftrap.



Mila screamed but the sound only made Danika bite harder. Danika felt an excitement she had never felt before. It surged through her body, hot, electric-deadly. Her consciousness seemed to have been shoved into a narrow hole and buried deep by the animal that owned her now. A monster used her bones, and the monster’s teeth had somehow supplanted her own. All Danika really knew in that moment was that for the first time in days, the aching hunger and nausea in her belly went away. As the hot burst of blood slid down her throat, she felt instantly drunk. The pain turned to exquisite pleasure. Her groin throbbed as if she were in the throes of orgasm; her legs burned with power and an itch to run; her arms felt strong, and wrapped like a vise around the back of her sister, who shrieked and struggled to pull free.



“Danika STOP!” Mila cried. But almost instantly her voice lost its strength. “What’s wrong with you? What are you doing … That hurts … Danika, please …”



Her sister’s questions quieted. Danika saw Mila’s eyes watching her, but she no longer struggled. Danika bit down again and again into the soft white flesh beneath Mila’s ear. She latched on finally to one spot and truly drank, guzzling the rich iron life of her sister. Her eyes swam with red. Each swallow seemed to bring with it a small orgasm of ecstasy in both her belly and her sex. She let herself go to the feelings, no longer trying to figure out what was happening. She just let go. So much so that she didn’t even see Mila in front of her. She only saw blood, and instinctively, she drank and drank until the flow had ceased and her stomach finally felt full and sated again.



And then Danika sat back on her haunches and like a feral cat licked the blood from her hands and lips until slowly the haze in her mind began to fade and she realized what she was doing.



She pulled a bloody finger from her mouth and stared at the spots of crimson still remaining on the back of her hand and wrist.



Comprehension dawned, and Danika felt her chest tighten. In front of her, Mila lay on her back on the front room floor, one leg crooked and bent at an awkward angle. Her face was slack and her eyes lolled open. Below the puncture wounds in her neck, the floral pattern pink shirt was drenched in gore. The holes glistened and still wept blood.



“Oh my God,” Danika whispered, and leaned forward to put her hands on either side of Mila’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry.”



For the first time in years, Danika Dubov cried. Mila remained in the same spot, unmoving. Danika knew she had killed her sister.



When her tears were done, she took a deep breath, and composed herself. Then she stripped off her blood-drenched blouse, washed herself in the bathroom sink and found a fresh shirt in her sister’s closet.