What You Wish For

 Bill shook his glass of cheap scotch, pausing to reflect on the colliding ice cubes as if they could provide some form of augury. He was still looking at them as he spoke to the beautiful woman seated next to him at the bar. She was a platinum blonde, and he knew enough about her to verify that it was her real color. Her red silk dress clung to every curve, one of those Oriental styles, but nothing you'd find off the rack. She looked out of place here, in this seedy dive, even moreso seated next to a man who only owned two suits, neither of them pressed.

"It's taken me many years to try to understand women," he began, "and I'm not sure I have it all figured out. But this is what I've learned: most women fall into two categories - those who received a lot of love and now feel they should have a monopoly on it, and those who weren't loved enough and believe they have to collect what's owed before ever showing any. I thought you were different. Trapped maybe, not able to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but I thought maybe, just maybe.. I could be the guy who shines the flashlight for you. Well, I must've been dreaming. Cause turns out, you like the tunnel just fine."

"You don't understand," the woman told him angrily, although her anger was not directed toward him. "He owns me."

"Sure, if you allow it," Bill countered. "You don't need  a ring on your finger. It's clear all the same. You never had any intention of leaving."

"Perhaps not. Everything I am now, I owe to him. I was deluded to dream of something else. But I did dream. Believe me, I did. If that means anything.."

"What power is it that he holds over you? Wealth? Power? A nice seat at the table of high society? Well, if that's all you're interested in, I guess that's the price you pay."

"His power over me is absolute. It is a terrible power, an unbreakable contract. I'm sorry." She put a hand to her face as if to cry. He grabbed her wrist and forced her eyes to meet his.

"Then I'll break it," he vowed. "I'll break him if I have to."

"He'll kill you," she whispered.

"No. You're forgetting I have what he wants. That little bauble he thought he could send you to butter me up to get. Come on, Marla. We'll go to him now. It's time you broke free."

They kissed then, for what seemed like an eternity. The bartender didn't seem to notice, and the two rummies in the place were probably lost in their sorrows. When Bill and Marla looked at each other once more, he could see.. something in her eyes. Longing? Sadness? He couldn't say. But he could still taste her sweetness, even through the cheap booze. Every time it was like magic, but the really old kind. He felt like he was Adam and she was Eve, and no man or woman had ever felt the same. Sure, he was probably in over his head. He always was. This time though, it wasn't just about keeping the lights on.

Richard Belasco was a man dripping in wealth. Few people knew how he came by it, although he had a hand in almost every business venture you could think of. He was certainly delighted that his most recent one had been a success, even if it cost him a little something extra. He studied his prize, a cabochon of amber with something almost imperceptible contained within.

"The contract is in your name now, Mr. Harlow. Good luck with your new.. pet."

Bill looked at Marla, but instead of looking overjoyed, grateful or even fearful that Belasco would go back on his word, she instead looked incredibly calm, almost...distant.

Her face distorted, her jaw distending to reveal jagged fangs where pearl white beauty had once been seen. Her eyes became two black pits that barely reflected the light. She advanced toward him and he instinctively recoiled.

"Oh, Ho!" Belasco chuckled. "It seems you're off to a rocky start as a new owner. Perhaps you require a proper care and feeding manual?"

Belasco rolled up one of his shirt sleeves, exposing the underside of one arm. Visible marks were revealed, the scars of willingly sustaining such a creature.

"What.. What is she?" Bill stammered.

"She is.. as she has always been," Belasco replied, clearly amused by the other man's shock and horror. "And you are now a victim of one of the world's oldest adages: 'Be careful what you wish for.' "

Like many in my employ, she was in a sorry state when I first met her. But I see promise in broken things. It's how I got to be where I am today."

Marla drew ever closer to Bill, her jaw widening further.

"She was pitiful," Belasco continued. "Preying on sailors looking for some quick indiscretion, or hobos too drunk on cheap liquor to even notice that she could barely maintain her glamour. I saved her from that."

But just as in the case of Marla, so too did I find many other broken souls. In my bid to repair and restore this wretched city to greatness, so too was I able to lift up some of its lowest denizens.

That's what I do best. Take now, for instance. I am merely building a better world by sweeping up the debris-strewn ruins."

Bill fumbled for his piece. What would a .38 slug do to stop this thing? No. Not thing. This was Marla. He loved her. Moments ago he would have given anything to be with her.

Bill did the only thing he could think to do. God, help me, he thought to himself.

He rolled up one sleeve.

Marla's mouth clamped onto his arm, her fangs sinking in deeply on both sides, like a king cobra fastening itself to prey. He staggered, and had to drop to one knee as pain engulfed him. His vision swam, and a thousand books this rich bastard had probably never read spun around him in the elegantly appointed study. He felt himself slipping away. The room grew dim as Belasco's laughter filled it.

And then it stopped. Marla had released him. Bill stumbled into a massive leather chair, noting absently the trickle of blood running from his arm to the floor. Marla looked like.. Marla now, except her lips were stained redder than the ruby lipstick she wore, and her eyes were tinged with sadness.

"Very good, Marla!" Belasco commended. "I see you can still exercise restraint, even when sampling a new vintage. Well, you two kids seem to be getting along famously. Now run along, you two. I'm not running a lunch counter here."

Marla smiled. "You forgot something, Richard."

"Oh?" he scoffed. "I don't believe so."

"The stone is useless without the incantation."

"Yes, my dear. And it just so happens that I have it."

Marla's eyes flashed with sudden malice.

"So do I."

Marla began speaking in a tongue that had vanished from the Earth long before the first stones of Mesopotamia had been laid. It was guttural and complex, and seemed unnatural for a mortal voice to utter. Every syllable echoed in the room as if shouted from a megaphone.

The piece of amber exploded, sending Belasco hurtling from the chair he sat in. What remained hung suspended in mid-air. At first it resembled a cross between a seahorse and an insect. Then it grew. Before Belasco could react, it descended on him. His agonizing screams filled the lavish mansion. As he was in the habit of dismissing his servants and henchmen in the late evening hours, no one would be responding to aid him.

Marla extended a hand to Bill. He could scarcely believe what had just happened. His mind was numb.

"You coming, lover boy?" Marla said teasingly.

"Uh.. yeah." He could offer little else.

The couple walked out together and strolled along a moonlit lane. It would be picturesque and very romantic, he supposed, if they had been two completely different people. Maybe it still was. Maybe a second rate dick and a creature right out of folklore were no different than the old fairy tale characters. But maybe you don't get the traditional happy ending? Who knows. The story wasn't over yet.

Bill lit a cigarette for himself and one for Marla. She was applying a makeshift bandage to his arm with his handkerchief and one of hers.

"This is usually the part where the guy tells the dame how it's gonna be. But for the life of me, I can't quite figure that out."

"It's okay, darling," she reassured him. "I won't have to feed again for a bit and next time, it won't have to be you. It's just the initial offering that's required, for the binding. After that, it's.. only if you wish it."

Bill took a long drag and exhaled. "I'll get back to you on that," he said with a wink. She chuckled.

"And a little bungalow with a bunch of screaming kids? Is that in the cards?" he mused.

Marla beamed. "Oh, yes, darling! Yes, it can be, if you wish it."

She hugged him tightly.

A small news article appeared in a small paper. A former private investigator had been found dead in his home. His remains showed many wounds from what looked like small animal bites, leaving behind an exsanguinated corpse. No foul play was suspected, although his assistance in the apprehension of a number of organized crime figures led some to believe it was payback using some exotic method of execution. A blonde woman believed to be in her early 30s was wanted for questioning, but was never found.