Liquid Diet Chronicles (Book 1): Bite Sized

by Chism, Holly

  “Is there any way I can get my hands on copies of the instructional materials?” I pressed.

  “I…I don’t know,” he said, flustered. “Why have you changed your mind about being taught?”

  “Because the ends don’t justify the means. If you’re employing means like that, it makes you worse than the target you were aiming at with a nuclear weapon.”

  I stood up and walked away. Into the kitchen. I didn’t want to be in the same room with him anymore.

  I heard Andi come up behind me. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  “No,” I said. “Everything is very much not okay.”

  I heard my front door slam, and my car start. I listened hard, and heard two heartbeats in the house. Which meant that the one leaving was the other one without a heartbeat, making it safe to talk. And I let out a harsh breath, and did just that. “He’s willing to kill entire cities’ worth of people just to nail ass-face, if he has to. He’s done it before in similar situations. Kill ‘em all with fire; God will sort them out sort of thing.”

  Andi went pale and she sucked in a shaky breath. “Well. That’s disgusting. I thought he was supposed to prevent vampires from being exposed. Arson’s…well, arson is pretty likely to cause exposure.”

  “He’s actually done it before.” I paused, staring into space, then continued, “He has set fires. Massive ones. Successfully. More than once. And it’s not hard to mess with your mind and perceptions,” I added. “It’d probably be child’s play to derail an investigation, or point it to something other than arson. Especially in the early stages. I’m just wondering, now, how many of the giant fires in history were started by a vampire, for something like this. Now that I know of two, at least, that definitely were, no matter what the history books say. And I don’t like that line of speculation.”

  Andi reached out and put an arm around my shoulders, drawing me into a hug. “I don’t like that, either,” she said firmly. “But we can keep that from happening. You, me, and Ray.”

  “Ray what? What about Ray?” he asked, wandering into the kitchen.

  “We’re going to prevent collateral damage,” she said.

  “Damn skippy,” Ray said emphatically. “I’m not here to bag a criminal. I’m here to protect potential victims.”

  I sniffled, wishing there were tears to go with it. “I need my fireplace,” I said.

  *

  I was brushing my teeth after a shower when I heard my car pull into the driveway. I glanced up at the basement door that I’d left open, and waited until I’d heard the front door open to spit toothpaste suds into the sink. “Down here,” I called. I rinsed my mouth as Richmond hesitantly edged down the stairs.

  I crossed my arms as I leaned against the bathroom door. “There’s a bathtub and shower in here,” I said, jerking a thumb over my shoulder. “My bedroom is through that door, and there’s a deadbolt on the door.”

  He nodded. “If you’re interested,” he offered, “I almost managed to put hands on the criminal, when I went to search for him. I’m not certain where he went, or how he disappeared, but I could tell he hadn’t gone far.”

  “Let me leave a note for Andi and Ray,” I said. “There’s about half an hour to sunrise. You cut it kind of close.”

  “The older you get,” he said tiredly, “the more difficult it is for sunrise to catch you unawares. You start sensing it coming. I knew I had time.”

  I shrugged. “I’d kind of noticed that I start feeling antsy and tired, the closer to dawn it gets.”

  “You’re developing the sense for it, half a century earlier than the historical record,” he said approvingly. “Are you certain you aren’t interested in taking on a larger role in society?”

  I shook my head, heading over to my laptop. “I do investments. I have no interest in other people, most of the time, other than as a means to make more money,” I said. I pulled up my email and opened one to Andi. “Okay,” I said, setting the laptop aside and moving from my chair. I gestured at the laptop. “I’ve got an email open. Can you type? Like, touch type, really fast? If you can’t, I can type what you want to say, but I’d really rather not.”

  “I learned to type on a mechanical monster,” he said drily, moving to take my laptop. “I much prefer computers. They’re not so…wearing. If you haven’t used one, you would not believe how stiff the keys are, and how hard they are to actually use.”

  I shrugged. “Great. Knock yourself out. Really.”

  I left him to it, and went into my room, dug through my closet for my spare bedding, and carried a pile out to make up the couch. He watched in befuddlement for a moment, then shook his head and composed his message. He clicked send, then closed the laptop, setting it aside, before he disappeared into the bathroom.

  For my part, I snuggled down into my blankets and picked up my book. I still had a while; might as well make the most of it.

  A Different Wake-Up Call

  Contrary to my expectations, I woke in my own bed. I frowned and rolled out of the bedding I’d put down on the couch, shuddering. I wandered out into my apartment to find Richmond in the living room, a cup with a tea tag hanging down the side in his hand. The look he was giving it wasn’t just dubious.

  “What is it with you Americans, and your bagged tea?” he complained.

  “We’ve mostly drunk coffee since we threw all the tea into the harbor in Boston,” I snarked, turning back into my bedroom to dress. “There’s blood in the refrigerator, if you’re hungry, and the microwave is right on top of it.”

  “Thank you, no. I shan’t use your food supply, child. I use dried blood,” he said.

  “What?” Dried blood? Just…why? I half gagged at the thought, trying to imagine it.

  He glanced up from the book I’d been reading before bed last night. I narrowed my eyes, trying to see if he’d lost my place, either by dropping or moving my bookmark. It didn’t look like it, so I relaxed a bit.

  “Dried blood, indeed,” he said, his voice shading with amused arrogance. Condescending. Like I was an uneducated hick. Uneducated on vampire issues, I was—but a hick? No. “Soldiers get freeze dried plasma, the rest comes to us. Most of us use it to permit ourselves to indulge in things long thought lost.”

  “Things like what?” I asked.

  “Oh, several of your age and just older missed things like ice cream shakes, cocoa, or carbonated sweet drinks. A bit of powder added, and you don’t vomit,” he explained. “Others add it to wine, or whiskey.” He smirked. “Just one of the things you could learn from an elder vampire.”

  Like him. Unspoken, but hanging in the air.

  Yeah, right.

  I rolled my eyes and walked back into my room to get dressed in business casual. I needed the confidence boost. I picked through my closet and pulled out a pair of heavy, drape-y knit gray slacks, and a white blouse with a blue-gray sweater over the top. And dress socks, and comfy, heeled loafers (Amazon was awesome for finding things actually in my size that belong on a professional rather than a child). I turned in front of the mirror, checking to make sure I’d gotten everything straight, then opened the bedroom door, twisting my hair up into a clippie on the back of my head. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got money to make.”

  He looked up and his eyes widened. He looked me over slowly, and I rolled my eyes. “Take a fucking picture, but I need to go up and get to work,” I tossed over my shoulder, trotting up the stairs and unlocking the door into the main part of the house.

  “Ah, yes,” he said, closing the book and following me upstairs. “I’d like to ask some questions about what you do, and how you manage to do it without breaking the laws of the living.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Who said I didn’t?” I snarked. “I’m pretty sure stealing your own identity still counts.”

  “Nah, that’s a gray area,” Ray said as he trotted down the stairs from where he and Andi worked together. “It may not technically be legal, but it’s not illegal for you to use your own info.�
�

  I ignored both of them and went into my library. I detoured a bit on my way to the coffee pot, and built a nice, warming fire, enjoying the way Richmond flinched and tensed up. Petty, yes, but what else did I have?

  “Now those gold coins y’all have,” Ray continued, following me into the library. “Those are flat illegal for you to have. But I’m not part of the Treasury, and I don’t like those sanctimonious pricks. And it was criminal to force the American people to give up their gold in the thirties in the first place. And stupid to deliberately start the ol’ inflation-ball rolling. So I’m not reporting, or doing anything else. Same with that ‘shine you’re selling. ATF should be a convenience store, not a branch of law enforcement.”

  I rolled my eyes and started a pot of coffee. “Good to know. Could be another reason you’re out of favor, but good to know.”

  “That’s leaving aside the fact that you’re a serial killer, yourself,” Ray said, dropping into one of the chairs.

  My head started pounding. I could feel my left eyelid twitch. I wondered how hard it would be to cover up munching on an annoying FBI agent who was way the hell out of favor. “Yeah, right,” I said.

  “No, you are, really,” he said, leaning forward, elbows on knees and face open and earnest.

  “Oh, do explain. This I have to hear,” Richmond said.

  “Okay, it’s like this. Meg has a victim type. She hunts her victim type, and kills them,” Ray explained, gesturing with both hands. I could just see the Ancient Aliens History Channel guy’s hair as a halo with the way he held his hands out while he made his points. “She’s done it several times; ergo, serial killer.”

  He…had a point. I rubbed my upper lip with my fingertips. “Yeah, well. They started it. Every time.” I sounded petty and childish. And I couldn’t take it back.

  “And I’m sure that the victims chosen by ass-face ‘started it’ by looking a certain way,” Ray said.

  “No, really—I wouldn’t bother them if they weren’t attempting to commit forcible rape,” I protested.

  “So, you’re basically a tiny, cute Dexter, but you’re still a serial killer,” Ray reasoned. “I honestly don’t think that’s anywhere near a reason to dislike you, given your victim type.”

  I rolled my eyes and turned back to my desk. Pointedly. “Yeah, yeah. Hey, where’s Andi?”

  “She had a late bail bond call in,” Ray said. “The gal making the call had a flat, and asked Andi to give her fifteen more minutes. She should be back with pizza in another half an hour or so.”

  Richmond sighed. “I need to borrow your car, again. If you don’t mind. I think I have a handle on what’s going on, but I need to see if I can find him and trail him for a while. Bit of a stakeout, and all that.”

  I shrugged. “Be my guest. There’s a Great Clips across from Walmart. You should be able to influence staff to forget you’re there.”

  “Thank you for that suggestion,” Richmond said, smiling.

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure how much longer my car’s going to keep working. I’d like to prevent the stress of idling for hours just to keep you from turning into a vamp-cicle.”

  “Why don’t you merely ask your daytime helper to help you purchase a new car?” Richmond asked.

  “Because she has a daytime job?” I said sarcastically. “Because she’s already spent a good bit of time on my house repairs, away from that job? Because she’s my friend, and I don’t want to take advantage of her? Take your pick, they’re all the truth.”

  Richmond grimaced. “I’ll take my leave, then, since I cannot seem to help offending.”

  I felt it when he left, then heard my car start up. I sighed in relief. Ray patted me on the shoulder. “I’d ask what crawled up your ass and died, but I think I know. Andi told me what you told her last night. All of it. But he’s got a better chance than I do of preventing ass-face, as you call him, from moving to his next victim, so I can’t say or do a whole lot. I agree with you on the one hand, but on the other, I do get where he’s coming from,” Ray said. “There’s been times I’ve been tempted to handle things like that. So, I’m gonna go watch TV, and let you do your thing.”

  I flapped a hand, and let him leave.

  *

  I’d smelled the pizza before I’d heard Andi’s footsteps on the porch. It was one of the actual foods I missed the most, so I enjoyed the scent of it wafting through the house while they ate. I smelled pepperoni, sausage, green bell peppers, onions, and caught hints of the earthy smell of mushrooms here and there. I sighed, tasting the scents on the air when I opened my mouth. It was as close as I’d be able to get to having a slice.

  I turned back to my computer and got stuck into making money. It was seriously hand over fist with regards to the auctions for the alcohol and the gold coins. One of the auctions finished, and I got up to package the wax-sealed quart Mason jar purchased with the appropriate photos for one package, and the appropriate gold coin with the photos that went with it for the other package, addressing both, and leaving them on the kitchen table with a note for Andi to go ship them with UPS or FedEx, with the appropriate insurance, and bring me back the tracking numbers for each (labelled, so that I’d know which was which). I’d go with the USPS, but neither package was technically legal, and the USPS was a government entity—they might feel the need to report our stuff, and get it confiscated. I did not want that to happen, because then I’d have to refund the five figures resting in the escrow until I’d input a tracking number for each.

  And I really wanted that five digits. And all of the others I’d likely be able to get with the rest of the auctions.

  I worked until the other two tired, and listened as they moved from the living room to the office. The murmur of voices kept me company while I logged into the investments and worked with my clients’ accounts, bringing in semi-legal income. I waited until long after they’d gone up to their separate bedrooms for sleep before I leaned back in my chair and considered things.

  First: self-honesty. Richmond had intimated that the great fires had actually been worth the cost to take out the individuals sharing my talents. I’d have to do some research, but no, setting a fire and killing thousands who couldn’t escape just to get one person struck me as wrong. A lot more wrong than killing the occasional violent rapist. And yes, I was taking out my own sense of moral indignance out on Richmond.

  Second: again, self-honesty. Was I a serial killer? If I didn’t choose a victim and go all stalkery?

  Then again, I did go and stalk victims. I just didn’t kill the ones I stalked. I killed the ones I didn’t stalk that were violent about the act I stalked people for. I’d have to think on that.

  Was I a serial killer when I didn’t kill the ones I stalked? Or just an opportunist with the ones I didn’t?

  I sighed and leaned forward, setting my elbows on my knees and looking at the floor. I knew I broke laws. I aided in money laundering, in price fixing on stocks and bonds, and in illegal trading. Oh, I allowed myself to not question so that I could tell myself I didn’t know for certain, but I knew for certain. Honestly didn’t even see the point in trying to obey the laws, since licensing was not an option.

  But a simple disregard for the law? That didn’t make me a serial killer. Stalking people that I didn’t kill didn’t make me a serial killer. Killing people who attacked me first, or who attacked others when I could step in didn’t make me a serial killer.

  Right?

  I sighed and logged out of my work sites. There wasn’t much more I could do for the day.

  I headed downstairs and set up on my laptop for some personal shopping. I didn’t want to make Andi buy me a new car, but maybe I could buy one for myself, and just have her pick it up?

  I picked one—a dark blue Subaru Outback, gray interior, with heated, leather seats, and an automatic lift gate—and paid for it online. I also paid for it to be delivered when it arrived at the dealership—interesting what a dealership was willing to do for someone paying i
n full, in (electronic) cash.

  And then, I logged into the vampire side of Wikipedia. I decided to research the fires that Richmond mentioned, and pulled up the one in Chicago. I had to see what I could find out. See if he was right, that setting a fire that had killed or otherwise negatively affected thousands at a conservative estimate was justified.

  Their names were redacted. The Chicago case had a vampire with the same, general abilities I had, but magnified (by age?). He’d decided to set himself up as a local god in the segregated side of town. The crimes listed and attributed to him (and his worshippers) turned my stomach, and made me glad I’d only met ass-face.

  The one in San Francisco was worse.

  I pulled a face, and decided not to research any further before I went to sleep. No, I didn’t have nightmares, but going under with bad imagery in my head tended to put me in a horrible mood when I woke the next night.

  I heard my car pull into the drive, and heard the door slam. Richmond stomped up the steps onto the porch, and kept stomping, knocking snow off of himself before he came in the house. He knocked on the basement door.

  “It’s open,” I called.

  My door opened, and he made his way down the stairs, leaning on the wall, shoulders slumped. “He’s not leaving Walmart,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going on, or how he’s managing, but he’s basically living there, as far as I can tell. I set up cameras aimed at the doors—all of them. Whatever he can do to living or non-living minds doesn’t work on electronics. And then, I went in. I could see him, like a mirage in the sun. I could sense his presence. And he got away. I couldn’t see where he went, or how he vanished, but he managed. Again.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “The fire solution won’t work anymore, not with the fire control systems Walmart puts in, but I considered it. I wonder if that’s why he chose Walmart in particular.”

  I raised a brow. “He’s not as bad as the one in Chicago, much less the one in San Francisco,” I said, pointing at my laptop screen. “He’s not setting himself up as a god, and he’s not setting himself up as a devil.”