by Jasmine Walt
"Oh yes, the dime store literature," Jeni said with amusement, "Your immortal bibles."
"Dry it up, Jeni," I shouted, then turned on my mother. "I only turned Resi!"
"Well, I only did Nanna," Zaire said.
"And I just did Zaire, but she's my mate," Resi added.
"I didn't make anyone," JoAnn said.
Mom stared at JoAnn through lowered eyelids. "Ohhh - nooo, you didn't make anyone. Let's not count the raccoon that partied-down and turned a whole army of fanged horrors loose on everyone."
"I didn't do it on purpose." JoAnn looked kind of tense.
"Suck it up, baby. You screwed up with the rest of us," Zaire added.
"We're all dead meat." Resi informed us, studying her reflection in the glass on the coffee table.
"All for vanity; the bane of your existence," Jeni said with an insolent smile.
16
Paul reached into his Corvette, pulling the cell phone off the dashboard. Gibbie watched as he punched in a number, waited, and then said, "Tell Dorius the women have been warned. He can leave for Miami in two days." He hung up
"I don't think Susan bit that woman in the restroom, do you?" Gibbie asked, hovering by the car door.
"I don't know. But I'm sure we'll find out. I set a camera in the mouth of a wolf, mounted on the fireplace."
"But you heard Susan. She said Christopher killed the woman and turned her."
"And I'm sure you heard JoAnn disagree."
"She did not. She said-"
"I heard what she said." Paul climbed in his car. "And you know perfectly well, Susan didn't give her a chance to take it further. I'm going to my place to monitor the camera. You coming?"
Gibbie buzzed through the open window, landing on the rearview mirror with a frown on his face. "They ordered caskets, come on!"
Dorius entered the BAMVC jet, Marcus a few steps behind him.
Christopher sat in one of the leather recliners, a lit cigar hanging from his mouth. Buster panted at his feet.
"That dog is not joining us, Christopher." Dorius snarled.
Christopher took a long puff off the cigar, blowing circles in front of him. "I told you, Dorius, Buster goes where I go from now on."
"Take the mutt off the plane." Dorius slid off his leather jacket, folded it inside-out and laid it over a computer chair.
"He ain't going nowhere. He's police issue and trained to anticipate my needs." Christopher tapped the edge of the cigar on a shiny copper ashtray in his lap. He lifted a crystal glass to his lips. Ice cubes clinked in the amber liquid as he took a sip.
"Dorius, leave the boy alone. If he feels the need for a bodyguard, I see no reason to discourage it." Marcus took the seat next to Christopher.
Christopher grinned.
Dorius sat at one of the computer tables, flipped on the PC and shoved a bowlful of mixed colored dog nuggets out of his way with his foot. Typing in a password, he brought up the BAMVC web site.
"Dorius, Dorius, Dorius… all I have to do to find you is follow the trail of insults." Christopher took another long drag off the cigar and blew the smoke in Dorius' direction. Buster's muzzle appeared over the arm of the chair and Christopher reached into his pocket for a doggy treat.
"Put out that damn cigar, "Dorius hissed. "It smells like the back room at a cock fight in here, already."
"Make me," Christopher hissed back.
Dorius jumped up, tripped over the dog's dish, and landed face down on the plush red carpet in a pile of Kibbles-n-Bits. "The Gods be damned!" Dorius sent the dish flying against the wall of the cabin. "He and that damn dog will be in body bags before we get to Miami."
Christopher started laughing.
Marcus hid a grin with his hand. "Christopher, Dorius does have a point. The cigar is offensive. Please put it out." Marcus pulled at the lace cuffs of his white linen shirt, stretching his arms under his suede jacket. A diamond ring sparkled on his pinky as he pushed black hair, braided in a thick strand, over his shoulder.
"Look, this is an expensive Cuban cigar. I paid good money for it and I'm damn well going to enjoy it."
Dorius pulled himself off the floor and fell into his computer chair.
Buster growled.
"Buster! Down!" The dog obediently dropped to the floor. Christopher gave Dorius a smug smile.
Marcus, his full lips in a half grin on his chiseled face, addressed Christopher. "You know that pup can't hurt us, don't you?"
"No, but he can take a huge hunk out of Dorius' ass." Christopher warned, glaring at Dorius.
"What is this newfound need for protection, Christopher?" Dorius eyed Buster. "If I find out you are part of this, I will personally preside at your funeral, your head in one casket, your body in another."
Christopher grinned calmly, his eyes dancing in amusement as he rearranged his neat black suit, pumping his little feet encased in red, Mickey Mouse cowboy boots that matched his dress shirt. "Why are you so interested in these immortal women, Dorius?"
"I'm interested in all rogue behavior. That's something you should not take lightly," Dorius warned, dusting bits of dog food off his black leather pants.
Christopher jerked Buster's leash. "Buster! Speak!" The dog jumped to attention and barked loudly, its angry eyes on Dorius. "Don't push me Dorius."
"Enough!" Marcus pulled a pale blue silk handkerchief out of his jacket pocket, blotting his forehead. "Christopher, you go too far sometimes. Don't instigate an argument. And put out that cigar. My eyes are watering."
"Shit, I am so fucking tired of this body. If I were your size, I'd wipe the floor with you, Dorius." Christopher took another long, defiant drag, puffing a trail of noxious smoke around the cabin.
"Tell us more about these women," Marcus said, his eyes buried in the handkerchief as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "They seem harmless, Christopher."
"I'm not going over this shit again. I told you what I know. Let's all just sit back and enjoy the ride home." Christopher stubbed out the cigar. Tipping his glass up, he finished his drink. "Where's Dennis?"
Dennis glided across the cabin in a flourish of silk. He fanned out his arms and a colorful cape flapped around him like a puffy cloud. Soft green eyeliner adorned his lower lids, making his eyes glitter blue-green. "You should buckle up, we're about to take off."
"I'd like another drink, Dennis. And make it quick. Dorius is aggravating me. I need to inebriate myself." Christopher shook the glass, ice clinking.
Buster whimpered.
Dennis took the glass and turned to Marcus with a playful smile. "It seems inebriation may be a desired state for all of you." He toed the Kibbles-N-Bits littering the floor. "Dorius, are you finished playing with the dog food?"
Dorius sounded like a stormy night, but didn't turn from the computer.
"Good. I'll get the broom, then." Dennis smiled at Marcus, tilted his head, eyes opened wide in question.
"Thank you, Dennis. I'll have a bag of blood and a wine glass," Marcus ordered, leaning back in the leather recliner and buckling his seatbelt as the plane moved down the runway. He picked up a Rolling Stone magazine from the table next to him and opened it.
Dorius sneered, his eyes on the computer screen. "The women received the package at seven o'clock. So far, they have not made contact. That gives them…" He glanced at his watch. "…twenty-two hours to contact the Miami branch."
"They'll call," Marcus mumbled from behind his magazine.
"Dorius?" Dennis asked, an empty glass in one hand and Christopher's ashtray in the other. Dorius waved him away.
"You got any cashews back there?" Christopher asked.
Dennis followed Christopher's eyes to the computer screen. He smiled and walked off, his long silk cape whispered softly over a tight, lavender pair of briefs.
17
Two days later, Resi walked into the living room with a large yellow envelope and tossed it on the coffee table in front of my mother.
"The welcome package came." Zaire pointed
at the BAMVC logo in the corner.
"Did you open it?" I asked.
"Nope," Zaire said as she took a seat on the couch next to Resi.
Mom grabbed it, tore it open and dumped the contents on the coffee table. She plucked out the DVD and popped it into the player on top of the television as the rest of us got comfy on the living room furniture.
JoAnn picked up the remote and started pushing buttons.
Jeni smiled at Mom.
Mom shook her head. "You want me to get it, Jo?"
JoAnn ignored her. The picture on the screen fast forwarded, rewound, fast forwarded, rewound…JoAnn shook the remote at the television.
"I can do it if you want," Mom offered.
JoAnn hammered the remote buttons.
The speakers vibrated. "Hello ladies, I am Marcus Morizzio, the head of BAMVC…"
JoAnn frantically pushed at the buttons. I looked at Resi and Zaire cuddling on the sofa. They smiled. The girls were notorious for cranking up the volume when no one was around.
"I am speaking from our-" the beautiful man on the fifty-four inch television screen announced in a deafening, head banging volume.
I grinned at JoAnn's bouncing backside as she kept throwing her arm with the remote at the television.
"I'm sick of being scared to death every time I turn this thing on," JoAnn shouted, hammering at the remote.
"It's the white one, JoAnn," I yelled.
She turned to me with her eyebrows slammed together. "What? I can't hear you!" She glared at the girls.
"The white remote on the top of the television," Mom yelled. "It controls the sound on the DVD player, you idiot!"
"Enough arguing, you guys," Jeni spoke loudly from the recliner.
The booming word VAMPIRE came from the set drawing all of our attention in its direction.
My sister turned to grab the white remote from the top of the television. She now had two remotes, one in each hand, and it looked like she was pushing buttons on both of them.
"I find it hard to believe you are…" Marcus' voice droned on at a pitch that had me placing my hands over my ears.
"Nanna, honey," Jeni yelled. "I think-" she stopped abruptly as the volume became manageable.
"Aunt JoAnn, pause the DVD," Jeni requested softly, giving her something else to find on the two remotes.
The voice of the handsome man on the television screen stopped in mid-sentence, his mouth in a laughable pre-statement gesture.
JoAnn hissed at the girls on the sofa.
I heard the sound of wings batting against the kitchen window, followed by cussing. I frowned looking over my shoulder. "Did anyone hear that?"
"Alright Mom, enough games." Jeni looked at each one of us with one of her no nonsense frowns. "I would really like to watch this DVD. Can you start it from the beginning, Aunt JoAnn?"
JoAnn threw herself dramatically down on the sofa next to Resi with both remotes in her hands. Resi tried to help - JoAnn pulled the remote away, pressed the button Resi was reaching for, and the DVD started over.
The screen went from a logo of a black bat, the gold letters BAMVC printed across its chest, to the sexy man named Marcus. He was sitting at a large walnut table flanked by eleven other men and women. All dressed in black.
"Hello Ladies, I'm Marcus, the head of BAMVC Corporation and the oldest member of the Morizzio family. I'm speaking from our location in Italy." He turned to his left and nodded at a man who resembled him, only his features were harsh and strong. "This is my brother, Dorius, and we've both been responsible for leading the council of members you see before you for over fifteen hundred years." He paused, looking down the table.
"Holy shit," Resi said, turning to my mother. "And you thought you were older than dirt, Nanna."
"I'll be damned. There is a vampire named Dorius," JoAnn said.
"I told you!" I gave her a nasty smile.
"Oh, hell no!" Zaire pointed at the television. "Look at them! Not a smile on their friggin' faces and only one woman in the bunch!"
Resi snuggled into her shoulder, kissing her on the neck.
"And you, young ladies, have gotten our attention," Marcus said, with a stomach warming cocky little grin that sent goose bumps up my arms. "Dorius has the responsibility of investigating rogues, and putting an end to the behavior you have shown us in the weeks past." His blue eyes sparkled.
"We have offices all over the world," he continued. "Our company is made up of over two thousand registered vampires and other species, all distributed throughout the world. We have over one thousand BAMVC members in the United States alone. Yours is a country hard to manage." Marcus seemed to be staring directly at me.
"You guys are in deep shit," Jeni admonished as she leafed through the rule book in her lap. "Let's let him finish what he has to say. I'm sure he's not going to do anything rash like chop your heads off or set you on fire, like it says in this book."
"Chop off our heads!" My mother screamed, grabbing for the book. "What the hell are you talking about, Jeni?"
"Do they look amused?" Jeni asked, pointing to the TV screen.
All twelve men and women were looking directly at us, as if they were listening to our conversation. A shiver ran up my spine. They were absolutely, positively, un-amused. Crap.
"This is friggin' bull-shit!" Zaire wore her 'bring 'em on' scowl, eyes flickering like light bouncing off metal in the sun.
Resi grabbed her throat and yelped, "Ouch, shit, something bit me!"
JoAnn paused the set and shoved her face in Resi's neck.
Curse words came from somewhere behind me. I turned in the direction of the sliding glass doors.
"It's not funny, Susan. She has a big lump on her neck." JoAnn had Resi's hair pulled back, her eyes two inches from a small bump, definitely not a big lump.
"I am not laughing," I turned to Mom, sitting at the dining room table.
"What?" Mom looked innocently at me.
"Owww!" JoAnn jumped from the couch, throwing the two remotes behind her.
"Now what?" I asked looking at my drama queen sister.
"I got bit too. Look at this. It looks like a little arrow." JoAnn walked over to me with a very small, sharp needle that looked like a stinger with a bur on the end.
Giggles wafted in from the porch. "Did anyone hear that?"
"This is not funny!" JoAnn yelled, shoving the little sharp object at my face as she glared at Mom.
"Don't look at me," Mom said.
I plucked it from her fingers and tossed it on the floor. "It's just a stinger JoAnn."
JoAnn sat back on the couch, her eyes making jerky movements around the room.
Jeni looked amused. "Can all of you powerful immortals forget about the little insect so we can finish watching the DVD?"
JoAnn dramatically plucked the remote off the couch and clicked the television back to life.
Dorius started to speak in a strong, intimidating voice. "I had our Miami office send you a welcome packet the minute we were aware of your clan, offering you blood, training and counseling. When you did not respond, I ordered one of my men to issue a warning letter and make telephone calls to your home. With no response or changes in your behavior, we are through being cordial. Read the book and order blood. A business card has been added to your packet. If you do not respond immediately, we will be forced to handle this matter personally. By the time you receive this, we will be stationed in our Miami branch. Just a two hour drive as the bat flies." He grinned, but his grin looked as deadly as Zaire's eyes.
The set faded to the bat logo.
"JoAnn?" I asked. She turned to me, eyes wide with fear, scratching a nice sized lump on her face.
"Did you get anything from BAMVC, Aunt JoAnn?" Jeni interrupted, calmly.
She usually handled the mail. If we did get anything, she probably would have been the one to toss it.
"I don't know," JoAnn said. "I don't remember anything coming in the mail, but I throw out all the advertisements. You know
, credit cards, time share invitations, magazines, sales catalogs." She turned to the television. "Oh shit, I've seen that logo…" JoAnn reached out at the television with the remote and shut off the set.
"I don't like the sound of that," Mom said.
"I might have thrown it away," JoAnn whined.
Mom shook her head. "You're a pain in my-"
"I'm sorry, and I think we should take this serious, Susan," JoAnn said, looking guilty as hell.
"We're going to read that book," I said, glaring at her. "Then I'll call the Miami office and explain the whole thing. And we'll order the damn blood. At least we won't have to go out at night sucking on deer." I was not getting on a plane with my mother. I could just see her with a whole plane full of mortals. It'd be like a frigging buffet at the Golden Coral.
JoAnn's eyes bugged out. "I think we should consider going to Miami. That's all I'm saying."
"I am not getting on a plane," Mom countered, making me smile. "In case you idiots haven't watched the news, there are terrorists out there. We're talkin' Miami here. I'll just stay right in this house and wait for you to get back."
Jeni smiled at Mom. "If we have to go to Miami, you'll be sitting in a seat between me and the window, Nan."
"Look, you little shit. You drag me on a plane and anyone looking even remotely Al Quida-ish is fair game. Consider yourself warned." Mom stuck her finger in her ear, giving her hand a shake.
"Let's just find out what is expected of us, alright?" Jeni walked into the dining room, sat at the table and opened the book. "The rules are very simple. I'm guessing they were written a long time ago without much updating."
We took seats at the picnic table in the dining room and settled in.
Jeni began to read. "Rule number one: No biting of humans for sustenance, unless it is sanctioned by the council as in the case of a Seraph, or falls under the category of rule number two."
"Shit," Resi said. "In the fantasy books, a Seraph is an immortal that can't drink processed blood. I don't think any of us are Seraph's."