by Jasmine Walt
JoAnn tried to tug her arm away. I dragged her right up the alley and deposited her by the man.
"It was a gator!" JoAnn yelled.
The man grabbed for JoAnn. She backed up, showing him both her palms. "I was in the car. I didn't do nothing!"
"Where's the goddamned gator? All I see is you two and… and…that!" The man pointed at his wife's upper body, shook from head to toe, and then reached for JoAnn again.
She jumped back and pointed a waggling finger at him. "I did not want to suck your blood, even though you are not a nice man and your wife wasn't nice either. The rest of the girls wanted to suck your blood and kill you because you hurt children, and…" JoAnn stammered.
My chin dropped. This was good material for a Twilight Zone episode.
"What the hell are you talking about, you crazy fuck?" he asked, glaring at my sister.
"That was a vile woman!" JoAnn pointed at the pile of chewed up flesh on the ground. "But you're lucky because I'm a good vampire." She raised her chin, making me want to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "And if you'll just look into my eyes, I can make you forget all of this." She opened her eyes wide and her perfectly coiffed hair lifted softly away from her face with an unexpected breeze.
A nervous giggle burbled from my mouth.
"You fucking women are nuts… My wife… she's dead… Oh, God… my wife is… Where's the rest of her? Did you do this?" The man fell against the brick wall of the alley gripping his chest, shooting glances at the horrified face on the ground, a scream frozen on its face.
"No we didn't. The gator did. Aren't you listening? Like I said, you don't have to be dinner." JoAnn was really rocking now. "Because I believe in second chances, so just look into my eyes. Don't freak out if they start glowing, that's supposed to happen."
I burst out laughing.
The man suddenly growled deep in his throat and pushed off the wall. He grabbed JoAnn's arm. She yelped and my laugh cut to a squeal.
The man pulled my sister to his face. "You better start making sense, bitch!"
I made ready to pounce.
JoAnn waved a hand in front of her nose. "Your breath smells." She pinched her nose and looked into the man’s eyes.
I held my breath and watched.
Let go of me, I heard my sister push.
The man blinked rapidly, his body went slack and he dropped JoAnn's arm.
JoAnn let out a long breath. I listened to her mental words. Okay, I'm gonna implant a message - I suggest you listen to me or my sister will suck on your neck.
I raised an eyebrow and dropped my fangs just in case.
Little children are sweet and innocent, and never, never, never, will you ever, ever, ever, go anywhere near them again. Got it?
The man nodded his head up and down.
"Good! And you can never have any of your own children. Ever." And if you so much as think about a kid in a sexual way, you will throw up violently, until you die. Understand?
The man's head bounced.
I leaned against the wall, arms folded across my chest. My fangs retracted.
Now you're going to turn yourself in to the nearest police station as soon as possible, but not before you do something with the rest of your wife's body. Drag it to the lake behind Sadie's Clip and Dip on First Street and dump her in. You got all that?
The man's head bounced again. He blinked several times, looked down, and then obediently leaned toward his severed wife.
I watched in awe.
JoAnn pulled a half-full water bottle of blood from her backpack and stuck a bendy straw through the top. With a dismayed scowl, she began to drink, watching the man curiously as he walked down the alley in the direction of the dog grooming shop, dragging his wife by her hair.
We watched him throw the woman in the lake, then followed him to the police station doors.
"I'm impressed. But the purpose was to drink from him, JoAnn," I said as we headed back to the Jeep.
"No, that was your purpose. I just wanted to get him and his wife off the streets."
12
The church was old, musty, and cold. Dull stained-glass depictions of twelve saints, the blessed Virgin and Jesus hanging on a cross covered the dark windows on both sidewalls of the sanctuary. It was an amusing backdrop for the rows of immortals, all standing in pews watching Dorius walk the bride down the aisle. Organ music muted the whispers of their guests as they passed.
Who let the dogs out…who…who… Dorius' cell phone sang. He turned to Antoinette with a sheepish grin.
"Darling, are you going to shut that off or am I going to have to deck you before we get to the pulpit?" Antoinette whispered, intensifying her grip on a cluster of red roses.
With a fixed smile, she turned to her guests. A dark cream dress covered in red opaque hearts fell around her tall, thin frame. She had a long trail of tulle, satin, and lace following ten feet behind her down the aisle. A veil covered her face in shaded whispers of lace over rich black hair pulled up in a French twist, dotted with blood red pearls.
Christopher stood at the altar, a toothpick in his mouth, flipping the wedding ring in the air and catching it on a velvet red pillow in front of him.
Marcus peeked around the groom and shot him a frown.
Who let the dogs out…who…who…
Dorius reached into the inside pocket of his black leather tuxedo jacket, working the buttons on his cell phone.
"Can you at least get me to the groom before answering it, dear?"
"Sorry," Dorius growled softly, fiddling with the phone.
They reached the altar, the organ music stopped abruptly and the church suddenly became extremely quiet. Dorius handed his sister off to Camillio.
Christopher smiled at Dorius as he turned the ring around in his fingers. Antoinette reached over and plucked the toothpick from his mouth, tossing it on the floor.
Who let the dogs out…who…who…
Camillio smiled, his eyes on his fiancée as they turned to the man behind the pulpit. "Dorius, can you put the phone on vibrate?"
"I just did," Dorius hissed.
The minister looked from Camillio to Dorius, smiled meekly and began reading from his notes. "We are gathered here this evening to witness the joining of Camillio DeVieto and Antoinette-Marie Morizzio in…"
BZZZZZZZZZZZZ
"Son-of-a-bitch," Dorius hissed, tossing his cell at a tall blonde vampire in the first pew.
Two hours later, champagne glasses filled with crimson liquid clinked against silver knives as Dorius slipped out the balcony doors of the ballroom. He flipped open the cell, punching in Paul's phone number.
"Dorius, I've been trying to contact you. How's the wedding going?"
"You better have something, Wolf."
"Actually I do, and it's good news. I've found our ladies. There are five immortals and one mortal. They live on one-hundred acres bordering Lake Harris. I've sent the fairy, over to observe them. He'll be moved into the rocks behind the house by tomorrow. I also took the liberty of contacting Dennis. A welcome packet from BAMVC is on its way to them. I don't think these immortals are who you are looking for, though. They're all new—very new."
"I'll alert Marcus of this new clan. Since they're on a lake, get the troll over there. He can observe and relay information to one of my men. You keep contact with the fairy. Let me know if they make a move. I have to believe Christopher. These are the immortals that killed the woman."
"Who the hell is that banging on the front door?" Resi shouted over the television blaring in the living room as she stacked dishes in the dishwasher.
"Nanna'll get it," Zaire yelled back from the couch.
"Nanna and Jeni are not here. Go get the damn door!"
"Where the hell is your mother and Aunt JoAnn?" Zaire stomped to the front door and yanked it open.
"They're out sucking a deer! Go answer the goddamned door!" Resi yelled from the kitchen.
Three needy looking African Americans froze. 'Watchtow
er' pamphlets clutched in their hands, they smiled with hopeful anticipation at Zaire.
Two old men stood glistening in sweat, dressed in dark brown rumpled suits too big for their withered bodies. The woman in her Sunday best wore a gold lace jacket, glittering from her shoulders to her knees. A satin sheath-dress peeked out from under it on her small frame. An ash blonde wig adorned a face full of faded memories as the old woman held out a piece of literature, a humble smile on her face.
Zaire smiled back and shouted, "Resi! Get your dead-ass - shit! Just get over here!" The water turned off in the kitchen. The television muted and Resi sauntered down the hall to the front door.
"May we help you?" Resi dried her hands on a dishrag and glared at Zaire. She had on a tight bright green shirt, the words, 'The Gayer The Better', printed in large letters across her chest.
"We just wanted to pass on the word, young ladies." The woman handed Resi a pamphlet with a picture of a cemetery on a dark wet day. A red rose lay atop one of the tombstones. In big bold letters, 'AWAKE' was written across the top, and under it, 'Is There Life Beyond The Grave?'.
"Do you know Jehovah?" One of the old men stared at a hole in Resi's T-shirt.
As JoAnn and I walked out of the woods by the house, I noticed an old Ford Taurus with its windows rolled down. Beside the automobile, three squirrels and a raccoon stood on hind legs, sniffing the car.
"They're hissing! Look at their eyes. My God, they're all… vampires!" JoAnn whimpered.
The animals were forming a cute little conga line, circling the car, strutting like diminutive police officers working a crime scene. One of the squirrels eyed the house, its red eyes blaring, a tiny paw outstretched in front of him, pointing. The raccoon growled, then strutted in the direction of the front door.
"Susan…it's him… he's…"
"Don't panic! We have to get there before they do. Come on."
"I'm not fighting that raccoon again. I just replaced this water bra, darn it." JoAnn rubbed her chest.
"Yes… you are."
"Oh, nooo, I'm not."
I dragged her with me around the side of the house at a fast pace, making my way toward the front door.
Resi shoved the pamphlets at the man smiling at her, his hand still extended in greeting. "We're Catholic. We believe in… sorry."
"We just want you to read this publication. If you have questions, there's a phone number and website on the back. The world is changing, ma'am. We can help you prepare. Because there is life after death."
"No shit," Zaire mumbled. Resi shot her a warning look.
The man opened a little yellow book entitled, 'What Does The Bible Really Teach?'. Finding the page he was looking for, he faced it toward the girls and began to recite from memory, "The bible teaches that God will bring about these changes on the earth." The man's finger ran across colorful faces on a rich blue background as he quoted the scripture printed on the page, "He will wipe out every tear from their eyes, and death will be no more, neither will mourning nor outcry for pain be anymore.'--Revelation 21:4."
"Well, umm that's true, I'm sure. But-" Resi started.
A rustle of leaves accompanied by loud screeches, hisses and chatter, caught their attention. All of them turned to witness three squirrels and an angry raccoon headed toward them at a frightening speed.
"Shit, it's the fucking raccoon from hell and he's brought friends," Zaire yelled.
All three Witnesses jumped. Not one of them smiled.
JoAnn and I rounded the corner as Zaire let out a war-whoop. She pushed the gawking bible-thumpers aside and ran at neck-breaking speed in attack mode, her fangs slipping from her gums.
Resi was right behind her with a broom gripped in both hands raised over her head.
I headed for the squirrels. JoAnn ran inside the house, shoving the three mortals aside. The three messengers from God sprinted for their car, pamphlets scattering a trail behind them. A squirrel fell from the driver's window, carrying a set of car keys in its teeth. It stood boldly, its little arms folded across his chest. The three old humans hustled right toward it.
"Friggin' great! Now there are five of the little fuckers," Zaire announced, coming to a grinding halt in front of the ringleader. She leapt at the raccoon, sliding across the grass on her chest, grabbing a handful of dirt and the end of its tail. It wiggled away. "Damn it all to hell!"
JoAnn huddled on the porch with my .22 caliber Remington rifle, aiming at the raccoon. A shot rang out, missed the animal by a good five feet, and a puff of dirt exploded inches from Zaire's face.
Resi swung the broom, hit the squirrel with the keys hanging from its mouth and sent it flying in the air. It landed on the back of the old woman. She flung her arms to the sky.
"Oh God, save me, I've been hit!" She fell to the grass, rolled onto her back, her arms flying in the air in front of her face.
"Someone get the friggin' rifle out of the hands of the only one in this family who can't shoot a goddamned gun!" Zaire yelled, spitting dirt.
"JoAnn, put my rifle down!" I yelled from behind a tree.
Resi dropped the broom and headed for the three Witnesses quaking by the car. She helped the old woman up and turned, glaring at me. "I'll take care of the mind-push, thingy. You guys get the critters."
I chased the squirrels around a tree and turned abruptly toward the car when all three of them headed in that direction. "Grab one of them, Zaire!"
Six rapid shots had dirt flying everywhere.
Everyone yelled, "JoAnn, drop the damn gun!"
Zaire scrambled to her feet, leapt for one of the squirrels, and caught it in her hands. It immediately bit her. She screeched, tossing it at the car as Resi shut the door for the last smiling Jehovah's witness after cleansing their minds of the fiasco.
The squirrel landed on the front window, gore splashing across the windshield as the animal slid to the hood of the car. Another shot rang out. A bullet pinged off the car. All three of the bible-sporting Witnesses jumped from the car, knocking a box of pamphlets out, scattering them at their feet.
"Great! Okay, let's go over this again, shall we?" Resi said a bit too loud, angry eye on Zaire as she helped the threesome back into the car.
13
Mort the troll treaded water under the overpass on the other side of the lake. In between dives, he munched on the algae coating the support beams jutting into the lake. His big rock-like body resurfaced every ten or fifteen minutes to see if Warren had arrived.
He was about to make his fifth trip down to the bottom of the lake when he spotted Warren's white Ford F-10 pickup rumbling down the embankment toward the lake.
The hefty immortal got out, tucked his red plaid shirt into his jeans, pulled a hunting cap over his short brown hair and sauntered toward the shoreline. "You have any news for me, Mort?"
The troll lumbered closer, his big gray eyes blinking water droplets. "They have a fairy… living in the rock-garden… by the house. I… hate fairies. All they do is… bitch, bitch, um…and bitch. He buzzes around… all night… dusting the water… with red sparkles. I can't… relax. You didn't tell me… there was a fairy… on this, Warren."
"Don't worry about the fairy," Warren said, already annoyed with the slow-talking troll. "He's working for Paul. I'll talk to the wolf. He won't bother you again. What do you have to report? Dorius is waiting for a call."
"Not much. Four of the immortals… had an episode… with a few animals… um… and… um… three black mortals… ah… yesterday… before the fairy got there, but… nothing Dorius… would be interested in. One of the… um… immortal women… is very black… and… she acts like… she owns the place. Shame she… um… lives there. This is… well… um… a nice neighborhood." Mort ran a thick fingered hand over his hairless head.
"I'm not interested in what color they are, Troll. Just infractions. Did they drink from the three mortals?" Warren spit a wad of gum over his left shoulder and adjusted his hat.
"They're not… sucking on hu
mans… as far… as I can see. They've…um… all been drinking…. from deer… on the property." Mort rolled in the water, bathing his back and shoulders slowly as he spoke. Waves of steam wafted off the lake as he sunk up to his eyes and peeked at Warren from just above water level.
"I'll let Dorius know. Keep watching. I'll meet you here again tomorrow, same time." Warren turned on his heel, pulled his cell phone out of his jeans, and headed for the truck.
The troll sunk under the water, looking like a large algae encrusted lump of mortar, and slowly began to make his way back across the lake.
Gibbie the fairy spotted Paul leaning against a tree, staring out at the water mottled with color from the sunset. He flew over; landing on his shoulder with a flutter of iridescent wings, grabbed a handful of the wolf's black hair in a sparkle of purple dust and began to chatter. "The one they call Nanna, mother of Susan and JoAnn, grandmother of Resi and the mortal Jeni, is giving them trouble."
"Has she killed anyone?" Paul swatted at the fairy, getting another dusting for his effort. This time it was an angry red.
"I don't know. But she's very amusing, always talking about sex. I like her. She's feisty and full of the devil." Gibbie smiled mischievously as he hovered in front of Paul's face.
"Are any of them drinking from the mortal, Jeni?"
"Oh, hell no. That one has more brains then all of them put together. No one messes with her." His wings buzzed in a high-pitched whine.
"What happened yesterday? Dorius just called. The troll told Warren that there was a scuffle in the front yard."
"Not sure, I wasn't moved in until this morning—got held up doing a little recon for a friend. But I did hear them talking about immortal animals."
"I'm sure at this stage in the game they think all immortals are animals. I have a sneaking suspicion this was forced on them. Where are they getting blood?"
"The animals on the property, as far as I can see. I am not fond of JoAnn at all. She was out gardening half the day and has managed to pull out all the clover around my rocks. It's nice and shaded in the garden and she wears a big straw hat and lime green gloves. She can weed for hours. It pisses me off. I did, however, send her screaming for Benadryl and running for the house. Dusted her pretty little ass."