Here Be Sexist Vampires diyv-1

by Suzanne Wright

  Internally I slapped myself, wanting to stop stressing over a woman and hoping to just blank it all out for now. But I could still smell her on me. Still feel the burning that the heat of the moment had left behind. Still taste her skin on my tongue. And I knew then that I’d never be able to be around her without wanting her. Not great.

  (Sam)

  Fuck. Twat. Shit. Crap. Bollocks.

  Each profanity burst through my mind as I clambered out of bed. I’d only been awake for ten seconds and a flashback of what had happened with Jared was all over me! Wasn’t everything supposed to feel better and clearer after a good sleep? If that was a rule, I was clearly an exception to it.

  Two red grape flavoured NSTs later and I still felt like I’d spontaneously self-combust any second now. Maybe I should go back to bed. It’s not like the recruits had any intention of showing up at the arena anyway. I’d then have to set their backsides alight and I seriously doubted that Antonio would be okay with that.

  Three pounding knocks on the door made me jump. “Sam, luv, it’s me.”

  Fletcher. If anyone was capable of pulling me out of my irate state it was Fletch with his relaxed personality and funny ways. I opened the door to find him stood there with his hands on his hips and an eyebrow arched. “Um-hmm.”

  “What?”

  “I knew you’d procrastinate,” he said as he shrugged past me and marched through the apartment. Not exactly the relaxed, humorous bloke I was expecting.

  Confused, I raced after him and found him in my bedroom flicking through one of my now full wardrobes. I’d unpacked my bags last night in pretty much a daze so I doubted that it was well organised.

  Seconds later Fletcher thrust an outfit into my arms. “Dressed, lady, now.”

  “I’m quite capable of picking myself something to wear, thanks. And since when do you have this right to order me about?”

  “Since you and Jared had a fumble and you now want to hide in your room.” His expression dared me to deny it.

  “We did not have a fumble. It was just a kiss.”

  “So that’s why you’re so uptight? You didn’t actually get to the fumbling.”

  “I’m not uptight.” We both giggled since my tone had contradicted my words. “Believe me when I say that I do not want a fumble with Jared, I think he’s a sexist pig.”

  “That’s the thing, luv, I don’t believe you and there’s really no point in telling me porky pies because I’m an Empath.”

  Oh. Empaths could sense the emotions of people near to them, which meant he’d been able to sense how much I’d wanted Jared last night. Suddenly I felt extremely vulnerable and embarrassed.

  “Look, luv, I know it’s not my place to say, but I’m going to say it anyway – and I say this with love – you’re being a silly little mare if you’re going to hide from some bloke.”

  “It’s not just Jared, alright,” I said tiredly as my bottom sunk into the bed. “The recruits wouldn’t come to training yesterday. They don’t think they need my help.”

  “They’re Jared’s arrogant spawn, that’s why. Listen, you can’t take it personally. Blokes never like taking orders off women, especially if those women are more powerful than they are. Like you, they’ve escaped the hold of their Sires and their past and they’re making the most of it. Plus, they’re probably stuck up their own arses too just because they got picked for the legion, thinking they’re too sexy for their shirts.”

  Fletcher said more but I’d stopped listening; certain things he had said were stringing together in my mind and an idea was slowly forming. A triumphant grin must have surfaced on my face because Fletcher looked at me oddly.

  “What?” he said dubiously. At some point he’d sat beside me on the bed while I was in deep thought.

  I kissed his cheek. “You’re a genius, that’s what.”

  I relayed my little plan to Fletcher while I slipped on the outfit he had selected for me: a tight pink vest and pair of tight white khakis (most things he had picked me were tight). As the vest never quite reached my hips and the khakis hung just below them, this left a belt of bare skin on show – enough so that my belly button silver diamond ring could be seen.

  “Well you’ll certainly get the recruits’ attention,” said Fletcher approvingly as he examined my appearance. “And once you put your creative plan in place they’ll be on their knees begging for forgiveness and your help.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” I giggled.

  “Luv, you’re gorgeous and they don’t see a lot of women around here. Trust me when I say they’ll be drooling.”

  When I entered my office I was confused for a few seconds to find some blokes inside wearing white overalls that were stained with paint. Then I realised they’d probably spent hours in here fixing the plasterwork and replacing the broken filing cabinets. Oops. They seemed to be repressing giggles as they left. I suppose it wasn’t hard to gather that Jared and I had been duelling again.

  While Fletcher was busy doing the research that I’d requested, I carefully examined the personal files of the recruits. They had been waiting nicely on my bureau for me. Maybe Jared had had an attack of conscience. Unlikely.

  The first file belonged to a Pagori vampire named Reuben, who was originally French. He was Turned at the age of thirty and had been a vampire for sixty years. Aptitude tests showed him to not be the brightest bulb, but he certainly made up for it in the physical department; he was by far the strongest and was built like a body builder. He had shoulder-length brown hair and a beard of stubble that added to the wild look. His gift was power augmentation, meaning that he could weaken or strengthen the gift of another.

  The second file showed a half American half Australian Pagori vampire, Stuart, who had been eighteen when Turned over thirty years ago. Average intelligence, average height and weight. His curly fair hair tickled his broad shoulders and he had a wide, clown-like smile. Like an old vampire friend of mine, he was a Shredder: his gift allowed him to disband until he was nothing but molecules and then reform again at will.

  Next was the thorn-exhaling vampire from the tryout. Chico was Spanish in origin. Although the dark haired, moustache-wearing Keja was a little on the podgy side he was physically just as able as the others, and was the smartest of the squad. Apparently the poison in the thorns caused the victim to instantly lose consciousness for a period of up to five hours. How delightful.

  File number four was of a Pagori vampire – also at my tryout – from Miami, Robert Richardson, who went by the name Butch. His photograph showed him to have an extremely smart appearance, especially with his slicked back bronze hair, but his dark eyes and crooked grin spelled wildness. He was well built in the upper body area and had notable speed. Butch was a Negator: he could completely cancel out any power aimed at him.

  Oh next was Slap-head; an army brat who had spent his childhood moving constantly round the US. At the age of twenty-six he had been Turned and had been a vampire for just over twenty years. Like Butch, he was notably fast. His weakness, however, was in his agility. On his photograph he had the same cheeky, warm smile that he’d flashed me at the tryout – oh and a nicely defined upper body. I could remember how he had completely paralysed the senses of his opponent in the tryout.

  Recruit number six was especially interesting, and not just because he was British like me. David was a Keja vampire and the youngest of the squad; Turned at seventeen and had only been a vampire for three years (same vampire life-span as me). He was tall and grey-eyed with copper, dishevelled hair. He didn’t have much to boast off with regards to strength and speed, but he had an amazing power to attack an opponent with: a psionic boom, something which caused extreme pressure on the skull and completely overwhelmed the brain, leading to either a temporary coma or death depending on the strength of the blast.

  The seventh file concerned an African-American, excessively muscled Pagori named Damien who was only a year older in vampire years than David and me, and was Turned when twenty-four.
He was apparently the fastest of the squad and excellent at one-to-one combat. Damien’s gift was Astral Projection, but apparently his consciousness wasn’t able to travel far from his body.

  Eighth in the squad was a blonde Pagori born in Ireland whose birth name was Edward but went by the nickname Salem. I definitely wanted to know how he came by that. Turned at the age of thirty-six just over forty-eight years ago, Salem was tall and brown-eyed with incredible strength despite that his physique wasn’t a statue of pure defined muscle. His gift enabled him to emit an invisible blast of psychic energy that could render an opponent completely unconscious. Basically, he had a psychic punch.

  Next was a very exotic looking American Pagori, Harvey, who I thought was over-muscled for his short size. He was just nineteen when Turned just under twelve years ago. His strength was higher than average but his intelligence left something to be desired. He was quite cute with his child-like smile and short dark hair that looked more like pure silk. Harvey was telekinetic; which meant that he would be able to move something or someone without physically touching it.

  Lastly was Dennis, or Denny, who was an American Pagori vampire from a tiny rural town with a very innocent appearance; scruffy dark hair, blue guiltless eyes and a dimply smile. His athletic physique didn’t do his strength and speed justice. He also had the best reflexes of all the recruits. A vampire for over seventy years, Denny had been twenty when Turned. I’d never encountered anyone with the gift of animal mimicry before so I was eager to see which animal-like abilities he had up his sleeve.

  Fletcher proved to be fantastic with researching. No sooner had I finished consulting the files than he had handed me the list of contacts that I had asked him to find. I then made call after call to conduct my own research on the recruits as part of my little plan, jotting down plenty of notes. Before lunch had even begun I had all the information I wanted and was feeling very optimistic and very pleased with myself. Until Jared teleported to the office.

  “So you went through the files,” he observed, nodding toward the untidy pile on my desk.

  “Yeah,” I replied simply. Oh he was looking way too gorgeous in that knee-length leather jacket. He knew that I thought so, going by the smug smirk he wore. God I had to get out of this room. “Fletch?” I called out while I gathered my notes together.

  His adorable face popped through the door seconds later. “Yes, luv?”

  “I’m off to get some NSTs. You want me to pick you up anything?”

  Fletcher squinted. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

  “Yes or no, Fletch?”

  “Honey flavoured ones please, luv. Oh and could you get me some snacks as well?”

  “Yeah, course.” I folded my notes and tucked into the pocket of my khakis. Not that I thought I’d need them. I was reasonably sure that I had all the details memorised.

  “You’re not going to ask me if I want anything?” griped Jared.

  “Nope.”

  He sighed. “Listen, if you want I can have a word with the guys and tell them to get their acts together and start listening to you.”

  “No need. They will.” He heard the confidence in my voice and his eyes immediately narrowed.

  “What plan are you cooking up?” he asked suspiciously but with a smile.

  “It’s already cooked, and it’s crispy round the edges.”

  Still going to pretend you don’t want me? he asked as I advanced toward the door. I just thought you should know it’s not working too well. You’re far from Hollywood material.

  Damn. At least I don’t shag a twig!

  Your interest in my sex life adds further support to my argument.

  Well file this away with all the info: you’re a prick.

  It was far from shocking to find that the recruits were not waiting for me in the arena. I found them five or ten minutes later all on the basketball court. Chico, Butch, David, Max, Stuart and Damien were playing basketball while Reuben was observing. Denny and Harvey were deep in conversation about something and Salem was moonlight-bathing on one of the benches.

  Max noticed me first and signalled to the others that I was coming. Most of them shrugged, unaffected. The others were pretending they hadn’t heard Max.

  “So, you still think you don’t need me.” I folded my arms across my chest, squashing my bust so that my cleavage was more prominent. As expected, they all gave me their full attention. I wanted to see their faces when I acted on my plan.

  “It’s just that we think we are okay as we are,” said Reuben.

  Max’s face beamed with a cheeky smile. “Come on now, Sam, it’s not you. We just -”

  “Don’t want to take orders off some chick,” finished Harvey in an arrogant tone. Damien and Stuart nodded in agreement. Wow, Jared had really been to work on this lot.

  “It’s like Max said, it’s not you,” repeated Denny in a very soft, sensitive voice. “Why don’t you come hang out with us?”

  “Yeah, hang out with us.” David seemed to have an inability to keep still.

  I smiled at them and jiggled my head as if considering their offer. “Well I would...but I’m not convinced you don’t need some coaching.”

  “Look, you’ve seen me in combat at the tryout.” Chico sounded bored. “Did I look like I needed help?”

  “Same here,” said Butch.

  “Help? No. But do I think you could both be better? Yes.”

  Chico sniggered. “I exhale thorns. How much better can you get?”

  I puffed. “Oh I don’t know…Can you emit them from your palms?”

  “The horns come from within me.” His tone was stressing his opinion that I was dumb.

  “You really think little poisonous horns are embedded inside you? Wrong. Your body produces toxins. These toxins travel in your blood, your entire body. They harden into horns the second that they meet the outside air. You can emit the toxins from your pores in just the same way. Your palms can be an outlet just the same as your breath can. Try it.”

  Chico sniggered again and waved a hand at me dismissively before going to collect the basketball.

  “You won’t even try? You’re that scared to fail? No wonder you never made Sergeant when you were in the police force. Got passed down for your brother too, didn’t you?”

  Chico immediately stiffened. Slowly he swerved to look at me, his face grim and his jaw taut. “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Oh I’m sorry, did I touch a nerve?” I knew I had. Preparing for a violent response, I absorbed the immediate energy, feeling it tingle and tickle as if eager to be released.

  “You need to get away from here now, do you understand me?” His tone was deadly.

  “Or you’ll spit some measly thorns at me?”

  Without hesitation he forced out a heavy breath of poisonous thorns. Quickly I manipulated the energy I’d absorbed into the form of a hungry flame, burning the thorns to nothing.

  “What about you, Butch? Think you can take me on?” I asked. I was a sponge of energy at this point. I was anticipating attacks from all angles and I needed to be prepared.

  “You can fling all the flames you want at me, I’ll just negate them.”

  “Negate this.” Before Butch could blink I had my energy whip in hand and slashed open his cheek with it. I knew that the crack of the whip would be too speedy for him to act in time. “You could have protected yourself, you know. All you’d have had to do was use the counteracting force you have to form a deflecting shield.”

  “Negators can’t form shields.”

  “Oh yes they can, Butch. I bet you’d love a shield that would help against emotional pain. Maybe then you wouldn’t still be feeling so raw about your mummy leaving you on the doorstep of a church.”

  His eyes blazed red instantly and he came at me without thought. I let my hands shoot out in front of me and then spread them wide, pulling the energy to pop up my own shield. Butch ricocheted off it like a bouncy ball.

  “Wouldn’t you like one of thes
e, Butch? I can show you how to do it.”

  He was too busy panting and sneering at me to answer.

  “I’ve had an interesting afternoon talking to all your Sires and vampy friends. Turns out they were quite happy to divulge dark secrets. It must be jealousy because you were picked for the legion and they weren’t. Should I just carry on revealing them or shall we go to the arena now?”

  “My Sire would never have told you anything,” said Stuart.

  “Oh is that right? Would you bet your pride on that?” He seemed confident, how silly of him. “Come on, Stuart, shred yourself into nothing and come all the way over here and then I’ll only whisper to you what I was told. No one else has to know.”

  He giggled at me without humour.

  “You can’t move from where you’re stood when you do it?” I asked as if he’d said it first. “Not even when I’m telling everyone how you couldn’t protect your little sister and she became a drug addict and then a prostitute to pay for her addiction?” God he was pissed now: if looks could kill...

  “And what about you, Damien?” I said. “Shall we share how just because your rich daddy left you bugger-all in his will you beat your brother half to death like an ignorant, bitter shit?”

  “Bitch,” he cursed through his teeth.

  “Sorry, didn’t catch that. Why don’t you astral project all the way over here and say it to my face? Oh that’s right, you can’t. Just like Reuben can’t weaken my power unless he holds on to me, not even when I tease him for the fact that his Sire abandoned him and he woke up to find nobody there to help him control his bloodlust and he more or less ate three people.”