by Craig Jones
Colorado
Slinking towards Terry Wright’s front door, I felt my body change. Pheromones of murder pulsed through my undead heart. My perfectly manicured nails thickened and grew into talons. I felt the first stirrings of angst in my stomach. My gums split and my fangs extended. Sexual urges came to the fore, and images of Katrina writhing in our bed swamped my mind.
Focus, Gem. This is work.
The house was lit up, and the front door that I had every intention of smashing into matchsticks stood open. My vampire senses indicated that it was safe to enter, that I wasn’t walking into a garlic trap.
I stepped inside, looked back at Katrina sitting in our hire car, and winked. I wanted her to feel at ease, to not worry, that we’d be all right after I finished draining this publisher’s blood.
I need her to stay just where she is! In case I’ve underestimated Wright.
I closed the door behind me and stood silently in the hallway.
“Gem,” a man’s voice said. “Come in.”
I almost jumped out of my perfectly smooth skin. How did he know I was here? How could he have been expecting me?
My vampire senses charged to full alert.
I followed the voice and walked into a study. Bookshelves lined the walls, floor to ceiling, 5000 strong, and posters of book signing events, The 13th Power everywhere.
Wright sat at a computer, his back to me.
My pupils dilated and my muscles tightened. I was ready to spring on him, drag him to the floor, and end his puppet master’s life with a solid clamp of my jaw on his throat.
Terry Wright turned to face me, one hand still on the computer mouse, the other pressed flat to his chest. It looked like he was having trouble breathing. The old guy might die of a heart attack before I sucked him dry.
“Gads,” he said. “You look just like Craig described you!”
I glanced past him at the computer screen where he’d been reading an email:
From: Craig Jones
Subject: Gem
The house was lit up, and the front door that I had every intention of smashing into matchsticks stood open.
What the hell?
Their conspiracy lay proven before me. They knew every move I was going to make before I did. The question was how did they do it, how did they know, and how much had they seen happen between Katrina and I...at night...when we’re alone?
There was no way I could kill him before I learned the answers.
The computer pinged, announcing the arrival of an incoming email.
Terry’s index finger twitched.
My muscles relaxed. As my anger faded to curiosity, my fangs withdrew back up into my gums, became teeth again, and my claws receded to beautifully manicured fingernails. I no longer wanted to tear Terry Wright limb from limb.
I read the words that appeared on the screen:
From: Craig Jones
Subject: Gem
Gem’s anger faded and she no longer wanted to tear Terry Wright limb from limb.
“That’s how it works,” Wright said quietly, in a voice only a vampire could hear.
“But how do you do it?”
“I’m a publisher. I find writers and work with them to make their good stories great. Then I put them on the Internet for sale, worldwide. Craig sent me a story about a sexy vampire hit woman. I had no idea you’d turn out to be real.”
The computer binged again.
From: Craig Jones
Subject: Gem
Gem shook her head. “I don’t believe this.”
I shook my head. “I don’t believe this.” My mouth fell open. I’d said everything that Craig had written.
How could I have been so wrong?
My brain filled with static. I couldn’t think. Fear overwhelmed me.
Jones has been the real puppet master, all along! My puppet master!
Wright looked me up and down, like most men do. “Craig told me you were coming. I never thought you’d show up, but I wanted to meet you. And here you are, come to life.”
Another email arrived.
From: Craig Jones
Subject: Gem
“You risked your life to meet me,” Gem muttered.
I bit my lip, but the words muttered out anyway. “You risked your life to meet me.”
Terry didn’t bother to hide the smile that jumped onto his lips. “Sweetheart, I took out my own insurance.” He tapped the hand that he held on his chest. “I’m wearing a crucifix under here, and if you attacked me, I was going to use it to stop you. I’ve read what happens to you if you see one of those bad boys.”
Wright was right. He knew everything about me. He was in cahoots with the person who possessed the power to control me. My thought processes were like a plate of spaghetti.
“But you shouldn’t want to hurt me. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be history.”
The computer beeped again.
From: Craig Jones
Subject: Gem
“Rubbish,” Gem shouted.
I didn’t fight it this time. “Rubbish,” I shouted.
“When I first read about you, Gem was just one story. I suggested to Jones that he should write a series. It was me who kept you alive. And not just you.” Wright paused and raised his brows, real cocky like. “But Katrina, too.”
I raised my perfectly plucked eyebrows in response. “Katrina?”
“At the end of No Loose Ends, Craig made you kill Katrina. I made him rewrite the ending. I saved her, Gem. You owe me one for that.”
My knees almost buckled.
I was meant to kill Katrina? Does Craig Jones have no heart?
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, what I had read in the emails Jones was sending Wright. The conspiracy had almost gone out of control. Terry Wright was my saviour.
I should ask Katrina to come in and thank him proper.
But my ire for Jones felt like a time-bomb ticking in my chest.
Another email:
From: Craig Jones
Subject: Gem
“So it’s Jones I need to go after!” Gem said.
I shrugged. Here it comes. “So it’s Jones I need to go after!” I said in a morose, monotone voice.
“You don’t want to do that, either. If he dies, he stops writing. He stops writing and you will no longer exist.”
No!
“And Katrina will no longer exist.” Terry paused and respectfully lowered his head. “And Angel will no longer exist.”
Jones has got me over a barrel.
The computer pinged again. I was beginning to hate that sound, and this time I didn’t even bother to read the screen, I just let the words exit my stunned mouth.
“But my job relies on anonymity. If he’s writing it down, then people are going to know what I’m doing. All they have to do is read the short stories.”
“They’ll think it’s fiction,” Terry said. “Simple as that. Come on, while Jones is knocking these stories out of the ball park, who’s going to believe it’s a real vampire bumping off New York’s sleaze bags?”
I had no answer. Maybe Jones had a sudden case of writer’s block.
But Wright was, once again, right. If I didn’t cooperate, everyone I love will cease to exist. I was powerless against these guys.
I can’t let anything happen to my girls.
An email arrived.
Jones suddenly had something for me to say. “So I go back home and forget this ever happened?”
“I advise it highly. But before you go, one more thing.” He stood up and walked to the door. “Bobette!” he called.
A woman joined us in the study. She was wearing a gym kit like she’d just come back from instructing a Zumba class. She smiled at me like I was a celebrity.
“It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Gem,” she said. “I’m a big fan. I hope Katrina is well, and I’m so glad you didn’t kill her.”
“Your husband saved her life,” I said with a slight bow of undying appreciation.
“I know,” Bobette said. “That’s all he ever talks about anymore, Gem, No Loose Ends. Gem, No Secrets. Gem. Gem. Gem. Now if you’ll please excuse me, I’m missing American Idol, and I’m sure you have more bad guys to kill. It’s been fun talking with you.”
An email arrived.
“The pleasure is all mine. But now I have to go.” I shook her hand, waved goodbye to Terry Wright, and left the way I came in.
“She’s beautiful,” I heard Bobette say behind me.
“Gotta hand it to Craig Jones,” Terry replied. “He sure knows how to pick ‘em.”
I enjoyed their conversation as I walked back towards the hire car and Katrina.
How the hell do I explain this to her?
I pulled the door closed with a clunk and tried to ignore Katrina’s questioning glare.
“Well?” she asked. “Is he dead?”
“This is bigger than both of us, girl.”
“You didn’t kill him?”
“No. He’s too valuable.”
“So we’re going after Craig Jones instead?”
“No. We’re going home.”
“But the conspiracy? How is Jones writing about us?”
“It’s no conspiracy, Katrina. It’s magic.”
“So what do we do when we get back to New York?”
I sighed. “We wait to see what new adventures Craig has in store for us.”
About the Author
Originally from South Wales, I have held a wide range of jobs from tennis player to gym manager to health service worker. I turned 40 in October, am married to Claire, and we have an insane ginger cat called Wookie. I went to school with Catherine Zeta-Jones, have played tennis with Jamie Redknapp, and coached Great Britain’s first ever World Number One tennis player.
I have always loved horror stories, having grown up with Jason Voorhees and his slasher friends, and I love writing them even more. The thought of taking normal people and putting them in terrifying situations gives me a fantastic buzz. I hope to convey that buzz to my readers in every story I write.
Gem – No Loose Ends (TWB Press, 2011) www.twbpress.com/gemnolooseends.html
A short story vampire series by Craig Jones
Gem is everything she seems, beautiful, rich, and successful at what she does, a vampire hit woman for the Mob. She makes problems go away. But when one crime boss decides she’s too big for her britches and double-crosses her, he’d better get out the crucifixes and the holy water, because crime hurts bad, real bad, and Gem leaves no loose ends.
Gem- No Secrets (TWB Press, 2011) www.twbpress.com/gemnosecrets.html
A short story vampire series by Craig Jones
Gem is everything she seems, beautiful, rich, and successful at what she does, a vampire hit woman for the Mob. She makes problems go away. But when on crime boss puts a five million dollar price on her head, dead not undead, he and his goons are in for one hell of a bloody bad ride.
What Happened to Rhodri (TWB Press, 2011) www.twbpress.com/whathappenedtorhodri.html
A short story by Craig Jones
There comes a time in a man’s life when he must fight for what he wants, revenge for one, and love for another, even if the odds are stacked miserably against him.
www.twbpress.com