Sunset Strip: A Tale From The Tome Of Bill

by Rick Gualtieri

  “A place with a knack for gaudy casinos?”

  I touched the tip of my finger to my nose. “Got a job waiting tables at an all-night café and managed to get a room in a flop house at the very edge of the city. Lot of hard luck cases there, but they mostly left me to myself. I met someone...a guy named Mark who bussed tables over at the Hacienda with eyes toward running the roulette wheel one day. He wasn’t anything special to look at, but he treated me well. I’m sure it wasn’t much different than a thousand other stories there.”

  “So then you decided to get a job dancing at Pandora’s Box?”

  “No. I never even thought about it. Would never have pictured myself at a place like that because I’d have never thought they’d hire someone like me.”

  Christy’s face took on a dubious expression as she eyed me. I could understand the confusion. Not to toot my own horn, but I am well aware of my assets...at least, these days I am.

  “My sister was tall, about five-seven,” I explained. “She was pretty stacked, too. Definitely was never hard-up for a date come Friday night.” I stood up to emphasize my point. “Me, I took after my mother. She was a petite thing. Would’ve had trouble topping five feet in stilettos...not that Mom would’ve been caught dead wearing them. No, wasn’t her style. She was more the Marion Cunningham type. Anyway, my sister made it a point to remind me about my shortcomings at every opportunity.”

  “Why did you listen to her?”

  “You try listening to the same crap for years on end and tell me if it doesn’t have a way of weaseling its way into your skull. Do I need to remind you how evil you were convinced the Freewill was?”

  “Point taken.” She averted her eyes. It was a bit of a low blow on my part, but I could see she immediately understood my point.

  “Anyway, you get my drift. As I grew, my tomboy looks went away. I mean, I never quite got a growth spurt, but I definitely filled out in other areas. The problem was, in my head, Linda’s voice kept telling me over and over what an ugly fucking duckling I was. As far as I was concerned, I was a frump. I played the part, too. Heh, thinking back on it, Mark was a bit of one too, although in his case it was real. He probably couldn’t believe his luck that he had all this on his arm come his night off.”

  “So where does Marlene play into this?”

  “I’m getting to that, relax. Anyway, my normal way of dressing was nothing to write home about. God, if I could go back in time, I’d probably beat myself to death with a copy of Vogue. The place where I worked, though, eventually got bought out by a new owner. The guy decided to try sexing up the joint. He made us wear uniforms...tight ones, not entirely unlike what you might see at Hooters. Personally, I was mortified to dress like that, but a job was a job. There weren't many other choices, so I did what I had to do.”

  I paused to take an extra-long sip of my drink. From this point forward, we’d be tripping over the skeletons in my closet. “And that’s when it happened. One night, this slick dressed guy comes in for a cup of coffee. He was eyeing me up the entire time he was there, making me wonder what the hell was wrong with me. I practically died in my skin, thinking that he was disgusted at what he saw - a mess like me in an outfit like that.”

  “But you were wrong.”

  “Exactly. Before he left, he pulled me aside. Said a girl like me could be making a hundred times what I was earning at that dump, then handed me his card. Can you guess what was written on it?”

  Christy smiled in response, although it didn’t reach her eyes.

  It was a sentiment I could very much understand.

  Chapter 10

  We touched down a little over two hours later, taking the time zone differences into account. That left plenty of the night ahead for us, or at least for me. Christy was looking a bit green about the gills by the time we stepped off the jet. Go figure. Some people just have no constitution.

  I guess I couldn’t blame her much. Three quarters of the way into the trip, red lightning began to flash around us, a definite unnatural occurrence. More and more such freak storms had been happening across the world as of late. It was a sign of the impending battleground that the Earth was about to become. More often than not, strange sightings or disappearances followed. A small part of me briefly wondered what the headlines would read once the sun came up.

  There wasn't time for any of that, though. We had business to attend to. Unless creatures from beyond the veil suddenly overran Vegas, we had to keep our wits about us.

  Following the storm, I’d given Christy a chance to regain her equilibrium, even being so nice as to not make fun of her for it...much anyway. I then instructed her to change her clothes. It wasn’t that she was covered in puke or anything gross like that, mind you. She wasn’t showing much yet, but the slight bulge in her midsection could potentially give her away on the ground. Vampires are masters at spotting and exploiting weakness. Marlene, being head of an enviable coven in a city known for its night life, had developed this to a near art form. An obviously pregnant foe might as well just save everyone the trouble and gut herself.

  Fortunately, possibly for both of us, Christy still had some fight in her. Though a little wobbly from our aerial acrobatics, she put her hands up, muttered a few words, and a flash of light later, you’d have thought she was ready for bikini season. Her clothes were now practically falling off of her.

  “It’s a glamour,” she explained. “A pretty advanced one, hard to spot or sniff out. My people developed them during the Inquisition, albeit they used it for different purposes back then. Was the only way we kept from being wiped out.”

  “How long will it last?”

  She cocked her head in response. “Hopefully long enough.”

  Gotta love confidence.

  * * *

  “So do we head straight over to...”

  “No,” I stated flatly. “Follow me. A car’s waiting.”

  “Where...”

  “To the MGM Grand. I booked us a pair of adjoining suites. We’re going to check in, relax for a while, then doll ourselves up and head downstairs to blow a few thousand dollars. Don’t worry about your bags. The zombies will get them. That’s what they’re here for.” I started walking, holding myself up as if I owned the place. Christy didn’t need to know that I wasn’t feeling much better than she was - just for different reasons.

  * * *

  “There are some very important clients flying in tonight. I want you to show them a good time, Lucinda.”

  “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

  “It’s a private party, one of the rooms upstairs. You’re to give them whatever they want, no questions asked. Don’t worry, you won’t be harmed.”

  “Won’t be harmed?”

  “They may get a little rough...”

  “What? No. I don’t do those kinds of things. Talk to...”

  “This isn’t a request.”

  “Screw that. I’m not your whore. Ow! Let go of me!”

  “You are whatever I say you are, girl. The moment you stepped foot into my club, you were mine. Don’t fool yourself into thinking otherwise.”

  “You’re crazy! I won’t...”

  “YES YOU WILL!! YOU WILL DO AS TOLD AND TOMORROW YOU WILL FORGET ALL ABOUT IT!! YOU’RE HAPPY HERE, THAT’S ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW!!”

  * * *

  I always wondered what happened during that night and the others that followed. Marlene was usually careful. The willing went about their business, made their money, and kept their goddamn mouths shut. The unwilling, well...she always made sure that we never remembered a thing about what we’d done or had done to us. All we’d know is that we’d wake up the next morning with cash in our purse and an oddly upbeat attitude about what we did for a living.

  There was just one small problem: she’d been sloppy with that first compulsion. I still had no idea what happened afterward, but she hadn’t erased the act of compulsion itself from my mind. Thankfully, nothing escaped my lips to the contrary at the ti
me, although I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t out of fear. For a time I had no idea what it all meant, other than perhaps I was going crazy.

  It may have continued that way, possibly until I was too used up to be of any use to her. At that point, I’d have been casually tossed to the side like refuse if luck went my way. If it didn't...

  My knuckles had turned white as my nails dug into the armrest of the limo. Pity - the rich Italian leather was no match for vampire claws. It was a shame to ruin something so beautiful, but knowing my kind, it hadn’t been the first act of violence visited upon this vehicle.

  The damage to the limo wasn’t lost upon Christy, although she thankfully kept her mouth shut. On the walk over to where our ride awaited, I had mentioned that we were being watched. The air in the terminal reeked of the undead. Not surprising, considering we owned it. What was different, though, were the underlying scents. The smell of expensive cologne lingered at the periphery, stuff that the everyday staff probably wouldn’t wear. Even with their enhanced senses, most vamps probably wouldn’t have noticed it. Having been exposed to the finer points of city living, I had developed a refined nose for such things. It was easy for me to tell the difference between a spritz of Clive Christian Number One and whatever bargain fragrance was currently being hawked at Target.

  It had been Jeff’s one saving grace. He was an egomaniacal moron who demanded the very best and insisted his minions follow suit. If one cared to survive under his reign, one played the part. Tomboys became fashion models, country bumpkins became paragons of style, and so on.

  The scents that lingered in the air were expensive ones. Marlene’s people were close by. She had been there for years, worming her way into the nooks and crannies like a cancer, but no matter how hard she tried, even she couldn’t be everywhere.

  “Thank goodness for the mob,” I muttered to myself.

  “Eh?” Christy asked.

  “Nothing,” I replied, well aware that our ride was in all likelihood bugged.

  * * *

  We checked into our rooms at the Grand - adjoining suites on the twentieth floor. Executive level - nice, but not the top of the line. No need to look overly garish. Christy wanted to get some rest, and I couldn’t blame her. I tried as well, but wound up pacing like a caged tiger, watching through a slit in the blinds as the sun arose over the city below.

  It was going to be a nice day...for the living.

  * * *

  Hours later, as the sun started its descent, I changed into a dark red, off-the-shoulder mini dress. It was nice and befitting for the night ahead, which was a pity. While there was an off chance that things could be settled peacefully, I was prepared to see it go the other way.

  Oh, let’s face facts, I was betting on it. If that happened, I could probably count on my outfit being left in less than mint condition. Oh well. ’Tis the price we pay.

  I applied makeup as usual, sending a silent thank you to fate that the silly pop culture belief of vampires casting no reflection was little more than bullshit. Then, I put on a pair of ruby earrings. Fortunately, any nastiness that ensued over the next several hours could probably be rinsed off of those. I kind of liked them.

  A gold necklace with a heart charm rounded out the look and toned down the aggressiveness of my appearance a bit. Sometimes, the subtle things make all the difference between predator and prey.

  When I was done, I knocked on the door connecting my and Christy’s room.

  It was time to kill a few hours.

  Chapter 11

  Well, it would be time to kill a few hours after I fixed Christy up. She was still rocking her glamorized body. I had to admit, it beat the shit out of a CrossFit workout for instantaneous gratification. Unfortunately, the good news ended there. She was wearing slacks, a dull blouse, and a sensible sweater.

  I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “You are not going downstairs like that. At least not with me.”

  “Do I need to remind you...”

  “I know why we’re here. I also know how we’re going to get in there in the way that’s the least likely to end with both of us taking a one way trip to the great beyond.”

  “Every second we waste is another that Kara could be...”

  “What? Dancing on a pole? Getting dollars stuffed down her g-string?”

  “Being turned,” she hissed. Her eyes momentarily flashed with power.

  “Not Marlene’s style. Your wannabe sis-in-law doesn’t have the right equipment to qualify for a promotion. Besides, I doubt anyone related to your boy toy is gonna show promise that quickly. True, Marlene used to occasionally make gifts of her girls to other covens...trust me on that one.” My fangs momentarily descended as I fought to keep my emotions in check. “But that’s not going to happen.”

  “How do you...”

  “I talked to the higher-ups before we left. The vampire tourism trade is pretty dead right now. Between the oncoming war and the whole ordeal with the Icon a few months back, most covens are hunkering down...waiting to see what’s coming. In short, they’re scared shitless. Now stop trying to change the subject.”

  “I’m not going to...”

  “As far as anyone who’s seen us will assume, you’re here with me. That means there are certain standards to be upheld. What you’re wearing...it’s embarrassing. Strip.”

  She stood there for a moment, a deer in the headlights look on her face.

  “I could always tear those clothes off you. I mean, some people are into that.”

  Her eyes opened wide in horror. My god, for someone who cavorted naked under the full moon, she sure was a fucking prude.

  “You can wear something of mine if you want, but since you’re about four inches taller, that’s really gonna put the mini in miniskirt - which might work in our favor...”

  * * *

  As I turned toward the serious business of making Christy presentable, I sensed her frustration. Hell, the smell of it practically wafted off of her in waves. She probably thought I wasn’t giving our mission the priority it deserved.

  That’s one problem with power - it doesn’t instill in most people a sense of patience. The two combined can often end badly. That’s one of the more hilarious secrets of the supernatural world. Vampires love to talk about living for all eternity, but it’s been my experience that the majority of them don’t make it past their first decade. If anything, many die well before they’d have done so naturally. It’s that rush of power that does many in. They don’t realize there’s a vast difference between feeling invincible and actually being so.

  Christy should have known better. By all accounts she was a seasoned witch. Hell, her old coven had plotted meticulously to off Bill when they could have just come in at any time guns a blazing.

  I couldn’t bring myself to blame her, though. The last few months had been rough on all of us. Between the excess hormones pumping through her brain and being blinded by love, she was off her game. Add to that the death of her mentor and she obviously wasn’t firing on her usual number of cylinders.

  Back when we’d first met, she and her asshole leader, Decker, had blindsided us for a summary execution. I hated to admit it, but had their little party not been crashed by some vampire assassins - also out to snuff us, oddly enough - they might well have succeeded.

  Now, though, her just wanting to charge into Pandora’s Box, well...well, actually it was the sort of idiotic plan I’d expect Bill to come up with.

  Dammit! There I go getting sentimental again. It really will be the death of me.

  * * *

  Christy cleaned up pretty nicely, if I do say so myself. How many other expectant mothers at the end of their first trimester could pull off the party girl look? Not many, I’d bet.

  “I’m really not comfortable with this,” she protested.

  “Neither am I. Those shoes don’t match, but it’s the best we can do. Here, take this.” I handed her a slip of paper.

  “What is it?”

  “A cashier�
��s check for five-thousand dollars.”

  “What for?”

  “Sexual services, of course.”

  “What?!”

  “Relax, Glinda. It’s just spending money. We’re gonna drop a small bundle at the tables, just like good little tourists.”

  “I’m not exactly an expert at gambling.”

  “Then you should be a natural at losing. When in doubt, go with what works.”

  * * *

  Christy and I stopped dead in our tracks the moment we entered the casino, and it had nothing to do with the spectacle that is Vegas.

  “You sense it, too?” she asked.

  “No, but I sure as hell smell it.”

  I would’ve expected a variety of human scents to hit my nose, some more pleasant than others. I likewise wouldn’t have been surprised to find a few vampires amongst the crowd.

  What I didn’t expect was the strange odor that hit my nose. Whatever the fuck it was, it wasn’t human. The closest my memory could come to placing it was a vague similarity to the otherworldly beings from up in the northern tip of Canada some months back. A peace conference had taken place there, one that would’ve caused the eyes of even the most seasoned UN negotiator to fall right out of their head. A near endless array of beings had gathered to witness what turned out to be a botched effort to avert a war.

  But it wasn’t the same…whatever was here hadn’t been one of the parties present up north. The scent was pungent, but not too intense. It was definitely not my imagination, though. There were other creatures here, blended in amongst the mostly human crowd. The only question was, whose side were they on?

  Christy’s arms instinctively went up in a defensive gesture, but I grabbed her before she could do anything and shook my head. Whatever the fuck was going on here, we did not want to make ourselves a part of it.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  I steadied my voice. “If I had to guess, I’d say this city was on the verge of being royally fucked.”

  “Why here?”

  At a temporary loss for words, I gave the best answer possible.