by N. P. Martin
“Zee,” I said as I brought her and my father their drinks.
“What?” she said, all innocence. “I was just asking. I’m sure your father has needs like you do.”
Jesus Christ.
“Dial it down a little, Zee, would you?” I said, glancing at my father to see him smiling, which surprised me. Clearly he had mellowed in his old age. Once upon a time, he would never have entertained such crudeness.
“You have been with my son for quite a long time now,” my father said as he sat down again.
“Over seven years now,” Zee said before sipping her vodka. “I like to think I saved his life.”
“Well, I suppose you did a better job than rehab did.”
“I’m all the therapy he needs.”
“Yes, I’ll bet you are. I’m actually surprised.”
“Surprised?”
“By the fact that you have stuck with him. By the fact that you have stuck with anyone, given your nature.”
“My nature?”
“Well, you’re a succubus, aren’t you?”
“And a succubus can’t love someone?”
“Are you saying you love my son?” My father looked slightly confused by the notion of Zee loving me, as if he didn’t know what to with that.
“More than you could ever imagine,” Zee said, her comment sounding a little barbed to me, though my father didn’t seem to take offence.
“Well, as long as you are both happy, I suppose.”
“We are.”
An uncomfortable silence followed, which I broke by saying, “Anyway. Can we talk about the bounty on my head now?”
My father looked up at me. “It’s your own fault,” he said. “What did you expect, tangling with a man like Martin Phillips?”
“He’s not a man,” Zee spat. “He’s a piece of shit that will get what’s coming to him.”
“You think he should’ve gotten away with everything?” I asked my father, incredulous that that’s what he seemed to be thinking.
“No, Damion, that’s not what I’m saying,” he said. “Phillips is a degenerate and thus deserves whatever punishment is coming to him. I just wish it wasn’t you who had ousted him. I mean, look at where we are now. You have a million dollar bounty on your head, son.” He looked at Zee. “Damion often forgets, or dismisses the fact, that he’s my only son. He told you what happened to his sister?”
“He did,” Zee said.
“Well, I don’t want the same to happen to him,” my father said. “When I go on at him to join the family business and be by my side, it is because I know I can protect him. When he is out there raking muck and pissing off bad people, I can’t protect him then.”
Rolling my eyes, I shook my head and drank from my glass, wondering if he actually believed what he was saying, or if he was just saying it for Zee’s benefit. “You can’t control people the way you control your business, Father.”
“Yes, don’t I know it, Damion,” he said.
“He has me to protect him anyway,” Zee said. “I would never let anything happen to him. I killed four men and a werewolf for him tonight.”
My father gawped at her. “Four men and a werewolf?”
“Bounty hunters,” Zee elaborated.
“My god…”
“So you see, Patrick,” Zee said. “No one can fuck with Damion as long as I’m around.”
My father nodded as he looked up at me, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Good to know, I suppose,” he said, before sipping on his Scotch.
“So tell me, Patrick,” Zee said, leaning forward now. “What was Damion like growing up? He never talks about his childhood much.”
“Doesn’t he?” my father said. “Well, perhaps we should correct that then.”
“Or not,” I said, walking to the window, knowing neither of them would pay me much heed.
“Was he a cute baby?” Zee asked. “I bet he was.”
“I don’t know about cute,” my father said. “But he was certainly loud. He never stopped crying for months after he was born. Although we discovered that was down to the ghost in his nursery.”
“Ghost?”
“Yes. This is an old house. We sometimes get ghostly visitors. Once we got rid of the ghost, Damion stopped crying.”
“He still doesn’t like ghosts.”
“Who does?” I said as I stared out the window toward the main gates. “Creepy fucking things.”
“Was he always so dark?” Zee asked.
“Dark?” my father said, as if he wasn’t sure what she meant. “If you mean sullen and inward looking, then no, he wasn’t. Growing up, he was quite a cheerful child. Damion and his sister were always playing practical jokes on one another, and on us as well.”
“Cool. I can just picture it. What else?”
“Well, he was always smart. He loved to read. Spent a lot of time in the library in town, if I recall. He always talked about being an author. I believe he even wrote a few stories, didn’t you, Damion?”
“A few, yeah,” I said as I watched Mac’s crew use a tow truck to take the bullet riddled Dodge away, making me wonder what they did with the body. Probably buried it in the woods somewhere, or just left it for the bears.
“I’d love to read them,” Zee said.
“You might find them in his bedroom upstairs,” my father said.
“His bedroom? With all his stuff in it? I have to check that out.”
“Feel free. I’m sure Damion won’t mind. Feel free to shower as well.”
Zee stared at him. “Do I smell or something?”
“Of blood, yes.”
“I don’t mind a little blood. The smell keeps me sharp.”
“No one is getting in here tonight,” my father said. “You don’t have to worry.”
“I wouldn’t bet on that,” I said. “Monsters can be very resourceful, as well as determined, especially when there’s a million dollars at stake.”
My father stood and came to the window I was standing at. “We should have enough men here to take care of whatever comes.”
“But they’ll keep coming, won’t they?” I said. “They won’t stop until they have my head.” I paused. “Which is why I’m going to give it to them.”
“What?”
“What are you talking about?” Zee asked as she came walking over to us.
“The only way the hunters will stop coming is if Phillips calls them off,” I explained. “And the only way he’ll call them off is if he has my head. So we have to give Philips my head.”
“Not your actual head, I hope,” my father said.
“Of course not,” I said. “But with a little magic, I’d say we could make someone else’s head look like mine. Call Mac and tell him not to dispose of Dodge Guy just yet.”
“Okay,” he said, taking out his phone, still seeming unsure of my plan.
“And then what?” Zee asked. “Once Phillips realizes he actually doesn’t have your head, he’ll send more hunters after you.”
“We won’t give him the chance,” I said. “If we send one of the hunters to deliver the head, we can track the hunter to Phillips. And then—”
“We can kill him,” Zee said.
“I was thinking we could send the Feds to arrest him.”
“But then you wouldn’t be safe, Damion,” Zee said. “Phillips could still put a contract out on you, even from prison.”
“She’s right there,” my father said, before walking away as he spoke to Mac on the phone.
“You need to send Phillips to Hell where he belongs,” Zee said. “It’s the only way to be sure he doesn’t come after you again. There’s no guarantee that his lawyers won’t beat the charges against him, or that he won’t get sent to some country club for a few years before being let out.”
I knew Zee was right, but still, the idea of murdering somebody—even somebody as evil as Phillips—didn’t sit well with me.
“You don’t have to worry,” Zee said as she put her hand on my shoulder
. “I can kill him for you.”
“No,” I said as I stared at my reflection in the window. “If it has to be done, I’ll do it myself.”
Within an hour of arriving at my father’s house, the first wave of hunters showed up. First to arrive was a group of mercenaries who tried to sneak onto the grounds by entering through the woods, but Mac’s team were waiting on them, and after a protracted firefight, Mac and his team eventually dispatched each of the mercenaries in summary fashion.
“I told you,” my father said as we watched the proceedings outside through the bulletproof window of his study. “Mac will take care of things.”
“Those were just mercenaries,” I said. “Wait till the supernaturals arrive.”
“Mac will take care of them as well.”
I turned around, realizing Zee was gone. “Where’s Zee?”
“She left while you were in the bathroom,” he said. “I believe she went upstairs to your old bedroom.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what she thinks she’s going to find up there.”
“She clearly wants to know who you are, son.”
“She already knows who I am.”
“She knows what you told her. There’s a difference.”
I stared at him. “You like her, don’t you?”
My father smiled as he sipped on his Scotch. “I suppose she has a certain charm to her, despite looking like a murderous harlot.”
“A murderous harlot, Father? She doesn’t always look like that.”
“Well, I see the way she looks at you. She clearly has deep feelings for you. Considering what she is, I’m surprised by that.”
“She’s not a monster.”
“I didn’t say she was. But she is a demon, isn’t she? My experience with demons over the years hasn’t been so congenial.”
“You just consorted with the wrong ones,” I said. “Zee isn’t like most of the others. Although, she can be when she wants to be. She isn’t someone I’d advise you to fuck with or try to manipulate, Father.”
“That’s what you think of me? As someone who fucks with and manipulates others?”
I shook my head and stared out the window. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
My father sighed. “I sincerely hope you find it in your heart to forgive me of whatever transgressions you think me guilty of, Damion. Your mother—”
“Don’t mention my mother. Don’t use her name to make yourself look better.”
“I was just going to say that she wouldn’t have wanted this animosity between us, son, that’s all.”
“Maybe not, but she isn’t here, so...”
“But I’m here, Damion, and I’m still your father, whatever you think of me.”
Inwardly, I sighed as I chose to step off the merry-go-round, tired of going around in circles. “Let’s just get through the night, Father.”
“I already told you, son. Mac will—”
The sudden appearance of a figure at the window forced him to stop mid-sentence, and we both jumped back from the window in shock, for staring at us was the face of a vampire, fangs bared, eyes blazing red as it glared directly at me. “You were saying?” I said as I stared at the vampire, which soon vanished in a flash.
“Don’t worry,” my father said as he took his phone out. “It won’t be able to get in. All the doors and windows are secured.” He put the phone to his ear. “Mac. There’s a vampire on the grounds—what? How many?” He shook his head. “Take care of them, Mac. Make sure they don’t get into the house.”
“How many are there?” I asked him.
“At least six,” my father said as he set his drink down.
“Christ. One of those things is hard to stop, never mind six.”
“The armory,” my father said. “We have shotguns. Come on.”
I went to follow him out of the study, but we only took a few steps before the vampire that was at the window appeared in the doorway. I had no idea which clan the vamp was from, and neither did I care. I only cared about keeping my damn head on my shoulders.
My father looked shocked at the sight of the vampire, or rather, that it was in the house. “How did you—”
“Your security doors mean nothing to us,” the vampire hissed before shifting his gaze and pointing his long finger at me. “I’m here to collect that million dollar head of yours.”
Taking my Glock out, I drew on the vampire and fired three shots at it, but the creature moved into the room before the first bullet even got near it. “Put your toy away,” the vampire said, looking like it was enjoying itself. “And I promise I’ll make your death quick.”
“I don’t know who you think you are,” my father said, now standing between me and the vampire, “but no one breaks into my house like this.”
“Stand aside, old man,” the vampire said. “Before I gut you like a fish.”
“Well,” my father said, seeming unnervingly calm considering the situation. “You are welcome to try.”
“Have it your way, old man,” the vampire said, and suddenly shot forward toward my father, making me think I was about to see my father’s guts spill out all over the floor at any second.
But that’s not what happened. Instead, when the vampire rushed forward, it was hit by a violent blast of energy that seemed to surround my father, and the next thing the vampire was flying back and hitting the wall at tremendous force. Before I could even say anything, my father shouted, “Come on!”
With the vampire lying dazed on the floor, my father and I ran out of the room and down the long hallway to the armory where my father closed the heavy metal door and locked it before leaning back against it to catch his breath. “Well, that was exhilarating.”
I stared at him, impressed by his actions in the study. “Your magic has gotten stronger.”
“I never stopped working on it,” he said. “These days, one never knows who they will be up against, especially in business. In many respects, magic is the new currency, and if you don’t have any, you can’t hope to compete against those that do. If you were with me in business, you would know that.”
“Really?” I said. “You’re going to mention that now?” I shook my head. “Let’s just get the guns.”
It had been a long time since I had been inside the armory. When I was younger, it was a smallish room that held mostly hunting rifles and bows. Now the room was much bigger, stocked with military grade hardware, the walls lined with all manner of pistols, automatic rifles, submachine guns, and shotguns.
My father immediately went for a Mossberg shotgun and loaded it with shells. “Vampires are hard to kill,” he said. “We need to deal them damage.”
“Since when did you become such an expert?” I asked him as I marveled at the amount of weapons surrounding me. “And when did you get all these guns?”
“We live in dangerous times now, Damion. I thought it best to be prepared.”
As he was loading his shotgun, his phone rang, and he answered it, listening for a second. “Damion and I are inside the armory. One of the vampires is inside the house…yes, I know…good. Get to the house as soon as you can, Mac.”
“What’s going on?” I asked as I took a shotgun from the rack.
“Mac and his team are doing their best to hold back the vampires,” he said. “He has two werewolves on his team, making the job easier, but there are still three vamps on the loose.”
“One of which is here in the house.”
“Yes. We should really be using Dragon’s Breath rounds, but I don’t want to risk burning the house down. If we see one, we’ll just have to use the shotguns to deal them as much damage as possible. Have you ever killed a vampire, son?”
“Just recently, when one bit me.”
“You were bitten by a vampire?”
“Yep. I made it happen.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I have Zee’s demon blood in my veins, which kills vampires if they drink it.”
My father nodde
d approvingly. “You still surprise me, son.”
At that point, there was a loud bang on the armory door, followed by a gruff voice shouting, “I know you’re in there! I’m coming in!”
“Why make him wait?” my father said. “Open the door when I tell you to.”
As the vampire continued to batter on the steel door, I got ready to open it. When my father was ready with the shotgun, he nodded once and I unlocked the door and pulled it open quickly, at which point my father let loose with the shotgun, blasting the vampire three times in the chest before the creature could even react. In seconds, the room was filled with gunpowder smoke and my ears were ringing badly. Wincing, I took the shotgun as my father handed it to me, and watched as he grabbed some sort of curved blade off the wall behind him, and then walked out into the hallway where the vampire was lying on the floor, bleeding from the wounds in its chest, blood spilling from its still snarling mouth. Shockingly, my father didn’t hesitate as he brought the curved blade he was holding down on the vampire’s neck, chopping at least three or four times until he had severed the vampire’s head, at which point the creature turned to dust.
“And that,” he said, looking over at me with blood all over his face, “is how you kill a vampire, son.”
I couldn’t help but smile at him, absurdly proud that he had taken care of the vampire in so dynamic a fashion.
But my smile disappeared when he was jumped from the side by another vampire. Before I could even react, the vampire was on top of my father and biting into his neck, gulping down his blood at a rapid rate.
In a panic, I put the Mossberg to my shoulder and walked forward with it, aiming at the vampire’s head. “Hey!” I shouted, and when the vampire stopped feeding on my father to look up, I squeezed the trigger and blew half the vampire’s head off, splattering its brains all over the wall. With such a substantial amount of damage done to it, the vampire had no hope of coming back from its injuries, and a few seconds later, it collapsed into a pile of dust.
“Father!” I shouted as I put the shotgun down and went to see if he was all right, though he didn’t appear to be. His face was deathly white, and he was barely conscious. It was as if the vampire had drained most of his blood from him in seconds. “Jesus Christ…”