Bitten & Smitten

by Michelle Rowen

  I pulled the microphone off the stand so I could hold it closer to my mouth.

  “And evil things should be killed, right? If we were all just regular folks—doctors, lawyers, and schoolteachers—going about our daily business… well, that would be another thing. We wouldn’t deserve to die because of that. These hunters would be the murderers then, wouldn’t they? But we’re not those normal, everyday, boring things.”

  I took a deep breath. “We’re monsters. Evil, scary, fanged monsters. Strong and dangerous, able to look after ourselves and our nasty friends and families. We give the hunters a run for their money, don’t we? We’d never make it easy on them or they might enjoy it too much. Might look at killing us as a game, a hobby—big fun. Something they can do to feel powerful and important.

  “They have the weapons, sure. They have the teamwork, okay. But at the end of the day—in the wee hours of the night—take a look around, my monstrous friends… we have the goddamned numbers.”

  I heard a rustle through the crowd as they looked around at one another, whispering about what I was saying and the point I was trying to get across. I hoped to God I was making that point loud and clear.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Barry climb up on top of his chair.

  “She’s right,” he said loudly. “We are monsters! And there’s a hell of a lot more of us than there are of them.”

  There was silence for a moment, and then another vampire rose to his feet. And then another. And then another. In the space of a few heartbeats, the entire club of a hundred-plus vamps were on their feet, staring up at the hunters, their fangs catching what little light there was in the club. I heard a growing growl, which got louder and louder, and I felt my grip on the microphone increase along with the tension in the room.

  I turned to look at Peter. His eye was very wide and white, and I could see a shiny film of sweat on his face now. I smiled at him.

  “Thanks. That’s pretty much all I wanted to say.”

  Chapter 26

  My army of monsters took a collective step closer to the stage. I placed the microphone back on the stand and shaded my eyes from the bright lights. I glanced at Peter again.

  “Now, where were we?”

  “Smug little bitch,” he said under his breath, but I could taste the fear that covered his words like a candy coating.

  The vampires never had thought to fight back collectively against the hunters. They considered themselves victims that were going to be picked off one at a time. They didn’t know what to do except to try to avoid it. Well, avoidance didn’t get you much in life. Except in this case, it might get you dead. I figured, if the hunters thought they were dealing with evil monsters, then let them have to deal with evil monsters. See how long they still found it fun and games.

  Peter took a step toward me, but I felt strong arms come around my waist and pull me off the stage. I turned to see Quinn behind me.

  “Good plan,” he said.

  “Thanks. Worked on it for all of thirty seconds.”

  Peter grabbed the microphone. “Yeah, great plan, bitch. Well, we’ve got more than one way to kill you pieces of shit. This was just a small part of it. You’ll all be dead in the next couple of days, and you’ll never even see it coming.”

  “Now, how are you going to kill us in your current position?” I asked him sweetly.

  “I’m not.” Then he laughed and it sounded just this side of insane. “You’re already killing yourselves. Just being here. Just drinking here. It’s so simple, too. You’re all so stupid to not see it coming.”

  I felt Thierry’s hand on the small of my back. I looked up into his eyes; then he turned his gaze on Peter.

  “Do you mean how you’ve poisoned the blood supply?”

  A gasp went through the club.

  Peter raised an eyebrow. “Very smart. Yes, all your blood has been tainted. My idea, might I add. We’ve had the Blood Delivery Guys working with us, under duress, for more than a week. By now, you all have enough poison in your systems to drop dead in agony within days. And there’s no antidote.” He laughed.

  I stared at Thierry. Oh, my God. Poisoned blood? Everyone I was aware of got their blood by buying it. Nobody got it the old-fashioned way anymore—it just wasn’t done. Even after finally standing up for ourselves, we still were all going to die.

  Thierry nodded. “It was a brilliant plan. However, I recently stopped using the Blood Delivery Guys. I now use the Blood Drivers—a little more expensive, but well worth it, don’t you think? Perhaps the shared uniforms I arranged threw you off a bit. No, the Blood Delivery Guys haven’t personally made a delivery in over a week. Everyone in the city has also made the change. I personally made sure of it.”

  Peter’s face had gone a medium shade of crimson. “You knew. How?”

  “Perhaps you are not the only one who has informants.”

  “Zelda,” I said under my breath to draw Thierry’s attention away from Peter. “Zelda’s the informant. Well, their informant.”

  “I know.”

  “You do? What are you, like freaking Kreskin?”

  He smiled at me. “No. Simply a good judge of character. Also, she stopped drinking the blood that was delivered here. She’d brought her own supply in and kept it under the bar. Little things say a lot.”

  “Where’s Zelda now?”

  “In my office.” He paused. “With Veronique.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Poor Zelda.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Shut up!” Peter screamed. “Both of you. Shut up! I don’t care what you’ve done. I don’t care how many of you there are. Do you know my kill count? Neither do I, because it’s so bloody high! I can take half of you out tonight with my eyes closed.” He glanced at his friends. They were all looking a little less sure of themselves than they had when they first got there. But each hand held a sharp weapon. A weapon meant to slice, to dice, to kill. And they had the power of desperation and rage fueling them.

  Peter leaped out at the audience that rose to meet him.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  It was one thing to say to the vamps that they could hold their own, but when push came to shove, a lot of them bailed and ran to the exits, pushing past the petrified, overpowered hunters who blocked their way. I got swept up with the crowd and pulled away from Thierry and Quinn.

  I tried to fight my way back, but I was pressed on all sides. People were going crazy. Either fighting against the dozen hunters or trying to get the hell out of Dodge. A hand reached out from beneath a table and pulled me under. It was George.

  “Just stay here,” he said. “It’ll be over soon.”

  “But Thierry—”

  “Thierry wants to die. Everybody knows that. Save yourself, sweetheart.”

  He didn’t mean to be cruel. He was trying to be helpful, and I knew it. I grabbed him and kissed him hard on the cheek.

  “Don’t get stabbed again.” I slipped out from underneath the table.

  “I’ll try,” he said sadly. “You too.”

  I tried to find somebody I knew, but I was surrounded by unfamiliar faces that were filled with rage or fear or confusion. Where were Quinn and Thierry? Why couldn’t I find Barry and Amy?

  Did Veronique even know what was going on? I had to get to the office and warn her. I was close to the bar at that moment, and I used it to pull myself along through the crowd going in the opposite direction. I ran down the hallway and opened up the door, slipped inside, and closed it behind me. I looked around.

  Zelda was right in front of me, smiling sweetly.

  “Hey, Sarah.” She backhanded me across the face. “Glad you could join us.”

  White stars exploded in front of my eyes. I fell to the floor and tried to scramble away from her, stunned by the pain from the blow. What just happened? I thought Veronique was looking after her.

  I looked up. Veronique was sprawled on the sofa, unconscious. There was a wooden stake protruding from her ample chest; her de
signer dress was ruined, and one expensive shoe was off, the heel broken and flung across the room.

  I crawled along the floor until I got to Thierry’s desk. Using it, I pulled myself up to my feet. My ears rang from the hit I’d just received. I never knew girls could hit that hard, but Zelda wasn’t a girl. She was a three-hundred-year-old vampire with a chip on her shoulder.

  We weren’t the only ones in the room. Peter emerged from the corner and smiled at me.

  “Nice little scene out there, darlin‘. Didn’t see that coming.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess you don’t see much coming these days.” I noticed the familiar taste of blood in my mouth. “At least not out of your left side, that is.”

  His smile vanished and was replaced by a scowl.

  “Got anything to say to me?” Zelda asked.

  “Nope.” I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of getting any more of a rise out of me. “Not a damn thing.”

  She almost looked disappointed. Then she shrugged.

  “Okay, Peter, I’m leaving now. I’ve done everything you’ve wanted.”

  He stared at her. “Thank you. You’ve been most helpful. Although, I can’t say that I’m too thrilled about how this night is going so far.”

  “Not my fault. So, how about my payment?”

  “Your payment?”

  “That’s right,” I said. “After all, our dear little Zelda only wants what’s coming to her.”

  I almost felt that Peter and I shared a moment, but that was impossible because he was a psycho and the last time I checked—I wasn’t. A wide smile spread across his face.

  “She wants what’s coming to her, does she?”

  “Come on,” Zelda said impatiently. “I don’t have all night.”

  Peter pulled out his stake and sank it into her chest. I scrambled farther behind the desk as I watched her expression change from greedy to surprised.

  “But”—she looked up at him—“that’s not what I meant.”

  She fell forward, mimicking the poor singer earlier. Her face smacked against the carpeted floor. But unlike the singer, who must have been much younger since she stayed in one dead but solid piece, Zelda slowly shrank and darkened, until there was nothing left of her but a pile of clothes, a stake, and a gross stain on the carpet that would probably require professional steam cleaning to remove.

  Peter bent over and picked up the stake. He looked down at the stain and shook his head. Then he took a step toward me and flicked his eyes absently at Veronique.

  “She’s a hot one. I’m glad she’s not dead yet. I plan on having lots of fun with her.”

  I’d slowly worked my hand into Thierry’s top drawer, praying that I’d find what I was looking for. It had to still be in there. It just had to be. If it wasn’t, I was seriously screwed.

  I let out a little sigh of relief as I wrapped my hands around Thierry’s gun, the one he’d given me only a few short days ago to protect myself from Quinn.

  Peter came closer until he was standing on the other side of the desk. “Yeah, we all get what’s coming to us sooner or later, don’t we, darlin‘? Now it’s your turn.” His grin widened as he reached for me.

  “You first.” I pointed the gun at his chest and squeezed off a shot. The sound was deafening, and the recoil sent me crashing backward against the wall.

  Peter took a step backward, too, and looked down at himself. Just like the singer he’d murdered earlier, a red stain blossomed out from the center of his chest. He dropped the stake and pressed his hand against the wound, as if that would make a difference.

  “Sorry,” I said. I actually meant it. First his eye, now this. He really should have known just to leave me the hell alone.

  “You bitch.” His voice was so surprised it was almost sad.

  “Sticks and stones, Peter.”

  He took another step back and then his knees gave out. He collapsed in the middle of the puddle that once was Zelda, and I heard the last breath leave his body with a hiss.

  With shaking hands I put the gun back in the drawer and went to Veronique’s side. She was still breathing. Thank God for that.

  “Veronique.” I glanced at Peter every couple of seconds, just in case he was planning on making another appearance, but he was pretty much as dead as he was going to get. Wooden stakes in the hearts of vampires, lead bullets in the hearts of humans—they worked every time. I swallowed hard. I’d leave the freaking out about killing somebody, no matter how much they damn well deserved it, for another time.

  “Veronique,” I said again and slapped her face.

  Her eyelashes fluttered open and she stared up at me. “Sarah. What happened?”

  “Don’t move. You’re hurt.”

  She looked down at the stake and her eyes widened.

  “I’m going to have to pull it out,” I told her.

  I touched the stake, but she pushed my hands away. She wrapped her own hand around the base of the wooden weapon and pulled it out of her chest in one quick, sickening motion. She didn’t even scream. She gingerly sat up on the sofa.

  “If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been staked”— she glanced at me wearily—“well, I’d only have about twenty cents. But still, it’s never a fun experience.”

  “You’re going to be okay?” I was surprised she’d been able to remove the stake all by herself. She was one tough cookie.

  “No, I’m not.” She looked down at herself. “This dress was one of a kind. I’m very upset. Let’s shoot the hunter again, shall we?”

  “You saw me shoot him? I thought you were unconscious.”

  “I was, but I see him lying there with a hole in his chest. It’s obvious what happened.”

  I smiled and helped her to her feet. We stepped around the mess that once was Peter and Zelda, and I opened up the door to peek outside. Everything was quiet. Too quiet.

  “Maybe you should stay here,” I told her.

  She shook her head. “No. Let’s go.”

  We slowly made our way out to the main club area. It was mostly cleared out. The fight was over. There were a few bodies on the ground. Some vampires, a few hunters. Some were moving, some weren’t. It looked like a dimly lit, smoke-filled war zone with makeshift nurses and doctors tending to the injured.

  George rushed toward us with a huge smile on his face. “You’re okay!”

  “Yeah. And you, too.” I smiled back. “You stayed safely under your table?”

  “No. I got out and kicked some ass. It was more fun than I thought it would be.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Sarah.” Quinn made his way over to join us at the bar. He was limping, and there was another cut on his forehead to match the one his father had given him earlier on his cheek.

  He grabbed me and hugged me tightly. I was so glad he was okay that I almost burst into tears.

  “You look like hell,” I told him.

  “You look like heaven.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You honestly have to start working on your pickup lines.”

  He grimaced. “I don’t think I’ll be picking anything up for a while, but I’ll keep it in mind.” He glanced at Veronique. “Who are you?”

  “Veronique.” She extended her hand and then winced in pain.

  He took her hand but didn’t shake it. “Nice to meet a fellow battle-scarred soldier.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not planning on scarring. My injury should heal up fine.”

  He let go of her hand. “It was just an expression.”

  Amy and Barry joined us. Barry was cut up, too, but smiling. Amy hugged me.

  “Glad you’re okay,” I said to her.

  “You too.”

  “No hard feelings?”

  “None. We’ve been friends too long. I just want you to be happy for me.”

  I looked at Barry and he met my gaze. “I love her. I know it seems fast, but sometimes life’s just like that.”

  “Fine.” I smiled at him. “Then congratulations, you tw
o. When’s the big day?”

  “We’re leaving tonight,” Amy said. “We’re going to elope to Niagara Falls.”

  “You’re going to Niagara Falls for your wedding? That is so cheesy. I love it.”

  Amy paused. “This means I won’t be able to go to Mexico with you.”

  “I kind of figured that. After everything that’s happened, I might just skip it myself. I mean, a vampire in Mexico? How weird would that be?” I glanced around. “Where’s Thierry?”

  George turned around in a circle. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen him since the battle royale took place.”

  My breath caught in my throat and a tear streaked down my cheek. “Shit. Please don’t tell me that they killed him.”

  Quinn touched my arm. “No, he’s not dead. He fought hard against the hunters, but he’s not dead. I saw him leave through the tanning salon five minutes ago. He didn’t say where he was going.”

  I let a long, shaky sigh out slowly and wiped my face. I tried to smile.

  “You care about him, don’t you?” Veronique said. “You’ve denied it before, but you can’t fool me.”

  I bit my bottom lip. “Look, I know he’s your husband and—”

  She waved me off and laughed until it hurt so much she had to stop. “It’s okay. We were married a long time ago, but we haven’t been man and wife for so long, I forget even what it was like. I have had many lovers since then, and I certainly don’t expect that Thierry has remained faithful to me. Now, dear girl, answer me. Do you care for him?”

  I sniffed. “Yes. But I just figured that since you came back after all this time, you were interested in getting back together with him.”

  She smiled, but it didn’t hold. Her expression turned serious. “I came here because it was requested of me. Thierry asked me to come.”