Vampires! A Bundle of Bloodsuckers

by Hilburn, Lynda

  Glad she had finally shown her true nature, he didn’t answer, but instead set his mind, laser-like, to searching her brain. But all he could pick up were images of bloody massacres and decimated Native encampments. The idea of a powerless human like Eena being captured by this vicious harpy made his fists clench. Waves of malevolence pulsed off her, and as odd as her energy was, something about it felt vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite remember why.

  “Would you like someone to drink?” she asked, with a fake smile.

  “I beg your pardon? Someone to drink?”

  “Sure. We always have lots of snacks on hand.” She called out, “Joslyn, fetch Devereux some refreshments.” A skinny, gray-haired woman trotted in from a curtained entryway at the far end of the cavern and went through the same door Eena had disappeared through. She came back several seconds later, dragging an either dead or unconscious naked Native male.

  Devereux jumped to his feet, the tense feeling he’d had since his arrival exploding. “What is this? You keep donors here? This is how you treat them?”

  “Huh – donors? I guess you could call them that. I just think of them as snacks. They serve no other purpose. You have a reputation as a bleeding heart. I guess they were right.”

  Joslyn claimed a chair, leaving the human stretched out on the floor in front of her.

  Devereux moved to the man and crouched, listening to his very faint heartbeat. The expanse of his skin was riddled with fang marks, showing he’d been repeatedly bitten. He was so near death Devereux wasn’t sure there was anything he could do for him.

  He stood and turned to Mary, disgusted. “What is the meaning of this? Why did you wish me to come?” It was clear from the bits and pieces he’d finally been able to read of her chaotic thoughts that she had a nefarious purpose.

  “Good questions.” She put two fingers into her mouth and whistled loudly. “Girls?”

  Female vampires swarmed from every previously closed door until at least fifty women crowded into the large space.

  Devereux took a step back, not because he was afraid, but because he was repulsed. The overwhelming energy emanating from these creatures was hatred. He felt their negativity in the pit of his stomach.

  Mary stalked in a circle around him. “Here’s the deal, Devereux. My intention to become Governor of Alaska is just the platform I’ll use to fulfill my larger plan: to have vampires take over the world. I’m going to hit the ground running, representing the Blood Party. Humans are only food. We’ve been in the background long enough. It’s time to switch things up.”

  The herd of vampires took a few steps closer, tightening their circle around him, flashing fangs and snarling, their faces twisted into grotesque masks. One woman stuck her pointed and pierced tongue out at him repeatedly in quick movements.

  Part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of his situation. Were these bloodsuckers serious? But he also knew that even more ridiculous plans had borne fruit throughout history, so he couldn’t take any chances.

  “What do you want from me? Why am I here?”

  Mary strutted over to him and poked him in the chest with a finger. “I’d think a big shot like you would’ve figured it out by now. We needed to capture you so we could control you and your financial empire. Invading the world requires cash. Capturing and draining millions of humans takes resources. We’re coming out of the coffin!”

  The crowd cheered.

  “I see,” he said, speaking calmly. “And, just out of curiosity, how did you arrange for my friends to agree to send me here? Did you meet with them?” She’d obviously pulled one over on them; now he just wanted the details. They really were going to be dead – pulverized several times over – when he returned.

  She laughed and slapped her thigh with her palm. “The idiots. I sent her to meet them.” She pointed to a very pretty young, big-breasted woman wearing a tight red mini-dress, swaying from side to side in a private dance at the far edge of the circle. “She told them what they wanted to hear. Said she has worshipped you for decades and would give anything to meet you.” She snorted. “What a load, but clever, eh?”

  “Oh, yes. Very clever.” He knew his friends could always be swayed by prodigious mammary glands.

  “All right, gorgeous. The first step is for us to drink your blood, which we’ve been told will make us twice what we already are, then we’ll just keep you here until we bring all your resources under our control.” She sneered. “Then, after that, maybe I will fuck you.” Her voice dropped an octave. “You’re pretty hot.”

  He didn’t bother to suppress his grimace of revulsion.

  The deep, rumbling shift of her voice flashed him back to a memory of a confrontation centuries earlier with a creature like her: a demon-possessed vampire. Of course. He tensed in readiness. At least now he knew what he was dealing with.

  The mob closed in and he sent a well-rehearsed mental signal to his team back at The Crypt: Security. Level ten. My coordinates. Now. He’d encountered enough human-hating vampires with agendas to be fully prepared for this situation.

  Even though he didn’t believe Houdini’s magic could keep his people away if he called them, the thick silence after he sent the mental command made him anxious. What if the fool had somehow blocked everything?

  But he needn’t have worried.

  Within seconds, thirty leather-clad vampires, male and female, materialized into the room. Mary’s minions roared and all hell broke loose – literally.

  “You’re not leaving!” Mary screamed as she leaped on Devereux. He felt her weight rocking his back as she tried to tip him off balance. Her fangs grazed his neck, seeking a rich vein, but he reached behind, grabbed her arm, and flung her aside. He briefly considered taking her captive so they could uncover all the other pieces of her sick plan and explore her possession, but she charged him, and managed to rake her sharp fingernails down his face. He reacted automatically. With knife-like precision, he ripped her heart from her chest, and then – reminded of the discussion earlier with Elliott and Laurence – he tore her head off and threw it against the wall, where it burst open like a grotesque melon. Her remains collapsed onto the floor.

  A dark, whirling energy-mass spiraled up from what was left of Bloody Mary, and Devereux felt a flare of heat scorch his arm as the demon brushed him, seeking entry. Extending and reinforcing his aura, he held the entity at bay as it came at him from all sides, searching for a weakness in his field.

  Easily recalling the spell he’d cast those many years ago to banish a similar creature, he repeated the incantation in his mind, then spoke the power words aloud: “Reverto ut abyssus.”

  With a burst of flame, the malignant spirit vanished.

  Pausing just long enough to make sure the demon was truly gone, Devereux leaped back into the fray, taking out several more of the feral vampires, but the struggle was over almost as soon as it began. His team was extremely well-trained, and the opponents weren’t. Within minutes all the women had either been killed or subdued for transport to Denver.

  He spared a quick thought that his friends would be pleased that he’d found himself participating in his own “spree.”

  The captain of the security force was bleeding from multiple gashes and holes and his clothing was badly ripped, but there were no major injuries. He stepped closer to Devereux. “Sir, shall we take over here? I can call for a clean-up crew and evacuate the prisoners.”

  “Yes, thank you. There is a young Native woman in the other room. Make sure she is deprogrammed and returns safely to her home. And look for other humans who might still be alive. Give them whatever medical assistance they need.”

  Devereux surveyed the devastation. I just lived through the longest, most irritating night of my endless existence.

  Brushing off ash, dirt and blood, he walked up the stairs and out into the clear air.

  He indulged in a few unnecessary deep breaths, then thought himself back to The Crypt.

  ***

  Dever
eux appeared in the club, landing in front of the booth where he’d left Laurence and Elliott. Only a few minutes had passed in their time.

  He had been fully prepared to alter the memories and perceptions of any humans who might have seen him materialize, but he found himself somewhat disappointed to attract no attention whatsoever. One of his friends must have protected the area. He could only imagine how he looked: blood-covered, torn clothing, dirt, ash and various foul substances running down his face and in his tangled hair.

  He’d been waiting all night to give his friends the attention they deserved.

  Perhaps I will rip their throats out first, then gut them like fish...

  “Devereux!” Elliott exclaimed, his eyes bugging out.

  “Holy shit, old man! What happened to you?” Laurence said, starting to rise from his seat.

  Devereux stared at them. An evil smile spread his lips. “What happened to me? You have the audacity to ask me that? Well, here.” He braced his hands on the table and leaned forward, locking eyes with one, then the other. “Let me show you.”

  He gave them a fast-forward mental version of the three dates they’d set up for him, and at the end, they both stared at him, appalled, then they looked at each other and blinked out.

  “We’re sorry. We had no idea it would be that bad. We’ll talk later, when you’ve calmed down,” floated through his mind as his friends fled.

  Looking around to ensure that no one had noticed the supernatural activities, he slid into the booth and dropped his head back against the cushion.

  Lucky for them I am too soul-weary to chase them. But tomorrow, they bleed.

  The guard he summoned earlier, plus several other club employees, rushed to the booth, and stood, awaiting orders. He dismissed them with a flick of his fingers.

  If he thought he’d been miserable before agreeing to participate in the Night from Hell, he now felt exhausted and hopeless on top of it. He thought about how excited – and misinformed – he’d been when he chose to become a vampire all those centuries ago. He’d had such lofty intentions, such big dreams. He was going to use his time to learn and grow, to evolve. To help the undead community see that they had more options than merely killing humans and indulging themselves. They could become an advanced, wise species. He laughed at his own naïveté.

  Instead, he’d discovered that most individuals – vampire and human – resisted change. They preferred to follow their base instincts, to wallow in the lowest common denominators.

  Maybe it is time to consider whether I have lived long enough. Perhaps it is time to... stop.

  With a sigh, he thought himself to his rooms under the club.

  ***

  After a shower and fresh clothing – another of his leather slacks and jacket designs, this one in deep teal, a personal favorite – he materialized in the closet he’d used earlier to depart, then stepped out into the bustling club.

  Thanks to the live dance music offered for several hours every night, the noise level was deafening, as usual.

  “Devereux!” yelled a female voice.

  He forced himself to smile as he glided toward the group of young people sitting together at a special table, sequestered off to the side – a table he’d designated as theirs. Even though they weren’t exactly legal – most of them hovering around ages nineteen or twenty – he let them visit the club, but the staff were forbidden from selling them alcohol.

  It had been Midnight, a young human friend, who’d called him over.

  She was one of the innocents obsessed with becoming a vampire. She and her friends took the occult elements of the club seriously and, when he first met them, they were experimenting with some dangerous activities – including cutting necks and drinking each other’s blood. One of the reasons he encouraged them to come to the club was so their vampire fantasies could be channeled into healthy outlets. And supervised.

  He enjoyed spending time talking with them. They kept him focused on hopeful and positive things, which were in short supply recently.

  As always, they wore the latest in goth chic.

  Genuinely pleased to see Midnight, he took the hand she offered and gave it a squeeze. This is just what I need after my interminable, wretched night. He knew she had a crush on him, so he worked hard to keep their boundaries clear. He preferred to be an older brother.

  “Hi, Dev!” She broke into a huge smile, her brown eyes sparkling. “I was hoping you’d be around tonight.

  “It is very nice to see you, my dear.” He bowed to the young woman, then signaled to one of the staff and said, “Please make sure my guests have enough food to eat while they are here. Give them whatever they wish, on the house.”

  “Dude!” one of the boys said. “Beers for everyone!”

  Devereux smiled at the familiar performance. “Anything except alcohol.”

  “Wow, thanks.” Midnight clapped her hands. “You always spoil us. I’d like to move in with you.” She pressed her hand against her mouth. All the color drained from her face before pink-tinged embarrassment washed up her neck and over her cheeks for saying her secret aloud.

  He grinned to put her at ease. She was so easy to read. “I am flattered.”

  “Anyway,” she continued, still mentally chastising herself, “you said you wanted to hear about how my appointment with the shrink went.”

  “The shrink?”

  “Yeah. I told you my parents were making me see some head doctor, and you said you thought psychotherapy could be very helpful. You asked me to fill you in afterwards.”

  Her reminder jarred his memory. “Ah, yes, I do, indeed remember. Well? Was it as horrible as you feared it would be?”

  She shrugged and flipped her long brown hair behind her black-caped shoulder. “It was okay. Dr. Knight was younger than I expected. Kinda pretty. Easy to talk to.”

  “Hmmm. Dr. Knight. That’s an interesting name. How was it spelled?”

  “K-n-i-g-h-t,” like the guys in the King Arthur story. Her first name starts with a “K,” too. Kismet.”

  He went totally still and lasered his gaze to Midnight’s. A shiver of excitement rushed through him. “What?”

  “Yeah, Kismet. Weird name, eh? She said her parents were fans of some Broadway musical, and they named her after it.”

  He cleared his throat, needing a few seconds to regain the ability to speak. “That is interesting,” he said, carefully. “Tell me about her.”

  As Midnight described the doctor, noting her long dark hair, blue eyes, and pretty face, Devereux tapped into Midnight’s memories and watched her time with the doctor as if it were a movie. The most exquisite movie he’d ever seen.

  Could it be?

  “Dev? Hey,” Midnight nudged his arm. “Are you listening?”

  Devereux ratcheted his attention back to Midnight and smiled. “Yes, of course I am. I am sorry to be so distracted. I have a lot of business matters to attend to and should return to work. I hope you will not be disappointed if I leave you now.”

  “Well, crap, Dev.” She frowned, but quickly rallied. “I hoped we could hang out for a while, but, sure. I understand. You have a lot on your shoulders. Maybe tomorrow night?”

  “Certainly.” He started to walk away, then paused and turned back to Midnight. “You know I am very fond of you. Would you mind if I speak with this Doctor Kismet? If I share my thoughts about you and your future?”

  “Er, no. I guess not,” she stammered, excited and pleased that he wanted to become more deeply involved in her life. “That would be good.”

  “Well, then,” he said, “please tell the doctor that I would like to have an appointment with her.”

  “Sure, I will. Thanks.”

  He bowed, his platinum hair falling forward. “Excellent. I will see you soon.”

  Strangely anxious, he moved quickly toward the closet, closed the door and thought himself downstairs again. Once inside his private room, he rushed to a cupboard at the far end and rifled through the contents until he
found what he was seeking.

  A painting.

  He balanced it on an easel, pulled up chair and sat in front of it.

  Staring at the canvas, his lips curved.

  “Maybe it is not time for me to... stop... quite yet.”

  He threw back his head and laughed with pure joy.

  Undead in the City

  Chapter 1

  Malveaux skulked in the shadows along the abandoned industrial buildings. A relentless blizzard – an uninvited Canadian visitor – pounded the urban landscape, causing even those with exceptional vision to falter in the wall of white. Hard snowflakes, slamming earthward like mini ice darts, caused him to raise an arm above his eyes as a shield to forestall the storm’s assault. The frozen projectiles couldn’t hurt him, almost nothing could, but the act of protecting one’s eyes was habitual. Instinctual, perhaps. Even for beings that hadn’t been human for a very long time.

  Parts of the inner city of Detroit had become the stuff of nightmares. Not only because they were inhabited by creatures of the night like him, but because of the frighteningly ingenious methods humans had devised for harming each other. And they called him a monster.

  One benefit to frequenting this seedy part of town was the readily available food source. Prostitutes displayed their charms for pitifully small amounts of money, and they were always more than willing to donate a bit of blood for the right price, even in a storm like tonight’s. He quite enjoyed sucking the throats of these ladies of the evening, then erasing their memories of said event. They always struck him as painfully honest, acknowledging the very human need for sex, unlike the masses who pretended to feel no such compulsions.