Vamp City

by CD Brown

  Sophia realized she just volunteered to investigate in the most passive-aggressive way, not the usual vamp style of business. Without a dictatorial council, only negotiation remained. But being blamed for the death had made this personal, putting her where direct action was the only course. “I’ll let you know when I find out.”

  “Or you won’t when you’re ashed.” Loretta laughed at her quip and the rest chuckled along. “Don’t take it personal, dearie. Come have a drink.”

  “Yes,” Melvin said. “It’s the best part of the mansion.”

  Loretta took her arm and led her to some descending stairs. “I’ll give you the name of my dressmaker if you want to class up your joints.”

  “I go for comfort usually.”

  “Honey, you’re a vampire. Why would you be so dull?”

  “My boyfriend used to ask me the same question.”

  “Might be why you’re alone now.”

  Sophia quelled the anger threatening to make her feral. This dumb broad had no clue and was way too vain to find one. Melvin arrived at the end of the hall where double doors waited for them.

  “You won’t believe this.” He pulled them open, revealing an ornately decorated ballroom. “We’ve recreated The Brown Derby down here.” Indeed, the booths and tables looked classy. If this was what the old restaurant looked like, then she was sorry she’d missed out.

  Jeeves—or whatever his name was—had already set out martini glasses filled with ruby liquid. She could smell the ferrous funk of fresh blood and knew its source immediately. As much as she would have liked to indulge, she had to stay pure. She sat without being served.

  Swing music soon filled the air. Some of the vamps paired off for dancing, but Melvin and Loretta sat with her.

  “It’s our one nod to modernity,” Melvin said. “We installed one of those computer machine music players. It keeps us swinging without having to flip the record.”

  “It’s nice. So’s this room. Quite swanky.”

  “Oh, the old days were so great.” Loretta’s eyes unfocused, her stare somewhere far away. “Before I was turned, I still lived mostly at night, flitting from one party to the next. The studio execs loved me. ‘Cause I was easy, y’know.”

  “Oh do I know, my lovely.” Melvin kissed the back of her hand and Loretta smiled.

  “Oh, you. Such a bad boy. Anyway, they would tell me who to date, as long as they got me in the sack. I specialized in making all the gay boy actors look straight. Wasn’t the worst thing out.” Loretta snapped her fingers to the beat. “You like jazz?”

  “I told you I’m from New Orleans.”

  “Peaches and cream, what was that like?”

  Sophia leaned forward. “I worked in Storyville. I watched it develop from low down to high brow.” They didn’t seem to catch on, their eyes questioning. “I mean, I knew Buddy Bolden. Y’know, the most important trumpet player in the development of the music?”

  “Did he know Frankie Sinatra?”

  “He died before Sinatra was born.”

  “Well, if he didn’t know the Chairman of the Board,” sneered Melvin, “how important could he be?”

  Sophia stood. “I’ve got someone waiting outside. I’ll let you know what I find out.” She stalked out, ready to leave these weirdoes to their own little world.

  Jeremiah made the most of his time putting together the next dinner: brilliant white table cloths; four new Mexican glass pitchers, funky with the bubbles within the glass and the blue stripe around the rim; and a set of business cards for any further feasts. Because it was still early fall, sunlight shafts stretching across the sky until past 7 p.m., they had to schedule the actual party for later so Sophia would be awake and ready.

  “It’s no problem,” Cecily had said. “This show works better in candlelight.”

  At this time of night, the freeway was open, many cars filling the lanes, but not so gridlocked that Jeremiah had to slow below fifty-five. Sophia shook her head as she followed the map on his phone.

  “It’s crazy we have to go all the way to I-10, then go back up 405. Our spot is a straight shot on Sunset.”

  “But it’s the Strip. You can’t be driving on Sunset after dark. It’ll take us two hours to go four miles.”

  Sophia had remained cocooned in Silver Lake, rarely venturing far because of her lack of wheels. She used to think the twenty-minute drive to the Vampire Council house back home was ridiculously long. She could now understand how rangy a city could be, easy enough to pick one place and sit still.

  After a half hour of freeway driving, Jeremiah dove into the side streets of Brentwood. Here was a neighborhood apart: each lawn trimmed and angled like a Marine’s haircut, each house sparkling and polished with none of the grime of street-level life, and each property gated and set off so no wandering soul could bother the residents. As she looked around, she noticed no sidewalks, discouraging any pedestrians.

  Finally, they found their destination. Thick brick walls, the color of desert sand, blocked any view of the house. Even the gate had black slats of sheet metal welded on the back to prevent casual glances. Jeremiah punched in the code Cecily had sent him, and the fortress revealed itself to the visitors.

  The house, three stories tall, had a flat roof covered in the rounded red clay tiles seen throughout Southern California. The walls on the outside were adobe, the same color as the gate, and the front windows and door were glass, each rounded at the top and square on the bottom. Five palm trees draped across the front yard while Jeremiah parked in the circular driveway right next to an ornate four-tiered fountain. The building felt like an Arabian castle in some lush oasis.

  “Isn’t there a drought or something?” Sophia saw this opulence way outclassing the St. Charles Avenue mansions back home.

  “Money allows you not to care.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.”

  Sophia turned as she heard Cecily’s stiletto heels clacking on brick. Her partner, arms outstretched, moved quickly on those six-inch show ponies with even more grace than Sophia in her tennis shoes. After accepting Cecily’s hug, Sophia let herself be lead to the kitchen.

  “This is going to be gonzo huge!” Cecily quivered like an overbred Chihuahua. “If this goes well, we’re talking five figures for each sitting.”

  “Are you shitting me?”

  “Still the innocent, aren’t we? Think big, junebug. The stars will be begging for our time.”

  Jeremiah set up the dining room while Sophia examined the product. These four took more legwork than the previous dinner because she had to find some new contacts. Her reputation had preceded her, however, so the new butchers were happy to provide. She sipped the Texas wagyu-style cow blood first, the one that had to travel the furthest. To her palate, she could taste the beginning of it turning, but she didn’t think her guests could go that deep. The wild boar, obtained from a hunting firm out in Joshua Tree, was fresh and smoky, giving off a barbeque flavor. This one would be last, as it was the strongest.

  Jeremiah pushed open the swinging kitchen door. “No mirrors.”

  “Fantastic. Let me get a look.”

  Cecily waited for her in the dining room. The owner had kept up the Southwestern rustic theme: unstained wooden chairs with leather backs and an ornately-carved pine table that could seat twenty-five. Sophia could sense Cecily’s awe.

  “They call these houses Hacienda style because of how they mirror old California. But, Jesus, this is top of the line.”

  Sophia inhaled the scent of the wood. “It’s also new. Maybe two years at most.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Um…I used to work in an antiques shop. The quality is stunning, don’t get me wrong. It’s very nice and goes well with our decanters. In fact, I think we’ll skip the table cloth.”

  “But we’ll still use the candelabras, right?”

  “Wouldn’t be a blood feast without it.”

  As the guests arrived, Sophia stayed in the kitchen. After her gothic
creation at the Los Feliz party, she wanted to keep herself mysterious. Cecily liked this plan also, saying, “To people who have everything they want, keeping something from them makes them want it more.”

  As Cecily clinked a wine glass to get the patrons attention, Sophia emerged from the kitchen. If the Los Feliz crowd had a studied casualness to it, these were the beautiful people. The men wore suits, none less than $1000, but without ties to show they could relax. The women wore form-fitting dresses, in various shades of white, black or gold, each tailored to their gym-rat bodies. But the faces here were different. They were still polished, but each visage in this group revealed some nipping and tucking to encase their youth in amber. Sophia saw bulbous cheekbones, whittled noses, puffy duck lips and botoxed eyes in a constant state of surprise. Would these people really take to her cuisine? She had no choice but to push forward.

  “Good evening. I’m glad you’re all here for my new curation.” Sophia glanced at Cecily who smiled at the word, having insisted Sophia add it to her introduction. “Our first course will be a real treat, Japan by way of Texas.”

  They ooh-ed and ahh-ed as Jeremiah brought out the first pitcher. They easily fell into the game of treating blood like wine. In fact, the owner of the house insisted on many flavor notes that weren’t there, showing off to his friends. Sophia didn’t dare contradict him.

  By the time the boar was served, all of the guests were fully trading flavors, dueling with adjectives at attempted one-upmanship. As they chatted away, Sophia felt a tingle in her neck. Something was wrong. She crouched into a defensive position.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” Cecily didn’t feel the same electricity.

  “Unwanted guests.”

  “But nobody can…” Cecily gasped and fell to the floor as the door rattled. Booming sounds from hands banging on the windows quieted the diners. The slamming sound fell into a military cadence which Sophia took as a summoning.

  “Everybody stay put.” Sophia used her most commanding voice.

  The host jumped to his feet. “What the fuck is this? Friends of yours?”

  “I have no idea, but if you stay inside, you’ll be fine.”

  “Nobody tells me what to do!”

  Sophia shot over to him at vampire speed. Taking his jaw in her hand, she used her powers to calm him down. “Sit. Or you will die.”

  He slowly lowered himself into his seat. Cecily appeared next to Sophia.

  “You don’t touch the customers.” Sophia saw her face red with rage.

  “If you want to get through this, you’ll shut up and listen.”

  Sophia could see Cecily did not want to listen, but she did. Sophia moved to the front, flexed her shoulders and opened the door.

  Sophia stepped onto the porch. Her senses were off the chart, at least twelve vampires in the immediate area. As she tiptoed to the driveway, she could see shadows in the palm trees, on the roof, on the fence, anywhere height could give them the advantage.

  “You’re not getting in there and you know it.”

  “Our fight ain’t with them, bitch. But we wanted to fuck up your shit.” From behind one of the cars stepped a young-looking Latina dressed in leather pants and biker jacket with hair obviously dyed blue-black. As she got closer, Sophia could see her face was made up to look like a skull, a goth version of Day of the Dead dolls.

  “Who might you be?”

  “You’re dumb. Ain’t you heard of the Muertos?”

  Sophia flashed back to her Vamp 101 meeting. Mostly Mexican, they claimed Boyle Heights and other East L.A. neighborhoods as their own. Why they were this far west didn’t make any sense unless they were hunting her. Sophia could read exactly that on the young woman’s face.

  “Why do you give a rat’s ass about me? I’ve never moved against you or any cabal.”

  “Bullshit! You killed El Caballero!” This came from a male on the roof. The rest of the gang hooted their agreement.

  “I did not! Why would I do that?”

  “Every vamp who moves here stirs up shit.” The young woman pointed her index finger, the nail extended into claw and ready to fight. “You ain’t no different.”

  The air resounded with clops as the vamps dropped to the ground. Sophia felt them circle around, then close in a tight pattern. Their eyes were red and the beast surfaced on each of them.

  As Sophia crouched, she heard a strangled cry. One of the vamps struggled with a creature on its back. Flipping it forward into the circle, Sophia could see it was Jeremiah, but he had transformed: his pearlescent eyes shone in their sockets, his face had elongated to a pinkish tipped nose and shaggy fur whipped in the wind. Sophia thought he looked vicious and the other vamps recoiled from him.

  Sophia stood tall. “If you’re looking for a fight, you have one. But let’s do this the honorable way. Boss to boss.”

  The surrounding vampires growled, all ready to sink their teeth into this living creature, but the young woman quieted them. “You think you can take me? Ain’t nobody ever did that before.”

  “There’s a first time for everything.”

  “Aw, I am gonna fuck you up.”

  The woman moved like a boxer, up on her toes. Sophia could tell how recently she had been turned, less than a decade. She had the speed, but none of the control.

  As the woman’s right hand raked through the air, Sophia pivoted, letting the claws miss her by fractions of an inch. A left hand strike made Sophia pirouette to the woman’s inside grip, but when she tried to close her arms in a bear hug, Sophia ducked out of it.

  Sophia saw the windows of the mansion. All of the dinner guests stood gawking at the fight. “Look what you’re doing. You’re drawing too much attention.”

  “All they see is fucking spics. They don’t know what’s going on here.” The young woman lunged again and again as the circle of vampires widened. Each time Sophia let her think she could strike her, only to dodge just beyond her grasp.

  Sophia stopped and listened. Sirens. The cops would be here any second. She had let her guard down enough to get a scrape across her face.

  “See,” the woman said, strutting the circle. “She ain’t nothing.”

  Sophia wiped the blood from her face as the slash healed. In one quick motion, she flashed behind the woman and kicked out her feet, then as she floated in the air Sophia whipped to her front, slamming her to the ground. Sophia clamped her right hand around her opponent’s throat.

  “The cops are on their way. Get the fuck outta here now.”

  The woman struggled, unwilling to give up. “Fuck off.”

  Sophia tightened her grip. “I’ll do it. I don’t want to, but I’ll ash you right now. Be smart.”

  The woman quit struggling, as the rest of the vamps backed away. Sophia drew the woman to her feet.

  “Name?”

  “Tamar.”

  “I’ll deal with you later. Go now before you get too much attention.”

  Tamar nodded, then pointed to the fence. As the rest of the vamps disappeared into the shadows, Tamar looked Sophia in the face.

  “You didn’t kill him?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Props because you whupped my ass. We’ll be in touch.”

  As Tamar bounded the fence in two steps, Sophia looked to Jeremiah, who sat naked on the lawn. “That was fucked up.” She turned to see the guests pointing their cell phones as a police helicopter circled above their heads.

  Jeremiah shook his head as cops flooded onto the property. “I don’t think they want dessert.”

  Chapter Seven

  Over the next three nights, Sophia called Cecily twice a day, trying to apologize for the violent interruption to the feast. Cecily had charged out after the Muertos disappeared into the shadows, holding her hands high and demanding to see the man in charge. After a few moments of conversation, she walked to the front door with an officer not decked in bullet-proof vest or helmet. Sophia noticed the golden bar on his epaulettes. Cecily paused in front of Sophia and Jer
emiah.

  “These two are hired help. They don’t need to be here.”

  The lieutenant wrinkled his face. “We need to talk to everybody.”

  “You could interview them, but it won’t be any assistance. No habla, y’know.”

  “Fine.” He turned to a group of cops examining the lawn. “Let these two go.”

  Sophia tried to get Cecily’s attention, but her new friend had iced over, not even acknowledging Sophia’s existence. She slipped into Jeremiah’s car and the police let them through the newly-placed barricades.

  At the end of day three, Cecily broke radio silence with a text. “You blew it. It’s over. Lose my number.”

  When she showed Jeremiah the text, he laughed. “At least she didn’t add a poop emoji at the end.”

  The two sat in the reception area of the ZLVG offices, the next meeting scheduled in half an hour. Jeremiah, his days active, was always the first to arrive, especially those times he didn’t spend the night. Carmen walked out from her office.

  “You heard from Cecily?”

  Sophia showed her the text. She tried to keep her spirits up, but all looked black in the meantime. “Carmen, that was my only income. I know I’ve stretched the boundaries of your patience, but…” Sophia was glad no tears would come to her shriveled ducts.

  “Come see, Soph.”

  She followed Carmen to the office, fully expecting to pack her bags immediately. Hopefully Jeremiah would let her crash for a while, although she knew that was moving way too fast. She crumpled into the chair, feeling her grip on everything slip away.

  Carmen sat, then twirled a stapled set of papers. “This is something I should have done a while ago, but I needed to make sure you were who you said you were.”

  Sophia now wished the tears would come, as she read the contract giving her the position of ZLVG vice president. No salary was attached to the job, but room and board was written in, as well as a vote on the board of directors. She tried to say something, but Carmen cut her off.

  “We both have to remember it isn’t about us. It’s the continuation of David’s vision. And while I know it’s important, you’re the only one who can pull it off. I can take care of business, Soph, but only you can do the job.”