by Gallier, TW
"Leave me alone!" Cody cried. "We're both vampires!"
"You'll have to do better than that, Abomination!"
Cody ran into Dillard's department store. It was packed with merchandise, much of it in elaborate displays in the middle of the wide aisles. He ran past them, tipping them over and dodging up that aisle, down that one, doing anything he could think of to escape my pursuit.
It didn't work.
He turned to face me as I closed. Trapped, he bared his fangs and hissed at me. That kinda took me aback. First time I'd seen a male vamp do that. Most of the females seemed to do it out of instinct. Including me.
"You're a girlie boy," I said. "And really stupid to stop right here."
I reached over to the nearest display. It was kitchen supplies. Okay, a display of high end edged ware — butcher knives, meat cleavers, steak knives, etc...
"I'm going to kill you, bitch!" he cried as I tested the edge on a meat cleaver.
Cody wasn't the brightest monkey in the tree. He didn't learn from his mistakes. Another wild right cross. I blocked it easily, and kicked him where it counted the most. Cody retched all over my pretty thigh boots. I mean from the knees down. Pissed me off royally.
I brought the meat cleaver down across his neck as he was hunched over. That was one sharp cleaver. One shot, and his head was bouncing on the floor. I managed to kick the body away before it soaked me with hot blood. So everything else within ten feet was covered in blood instead.
The janitor was not going to be happy.
I placed the bloody cleaver back where I found it, still dripping blood. After picking up Cody's head, I smiled apologetically at the nearest store clerk and departed through an outside exit. My biggest concern was getting out of there without meeting any police, and going somewhere private to get that God-blessed silver bullet out of my body. Damn, it hurt now that I didn't have a pair of rogue vamps to worry about.
The police were rushing into the mall entrances. I guess they heard the gunfire and saw the people running out of the mall in terror. I dropped Cody's head and pulled out my cell. Powered it up, and called Sergeant Longhouse.
"Longhouse."
"Hello, Sable here," I said. "Two vampires dead. One in the corridor outside Banana Republic, the other in Dillard's. The Dillard's body's head is outside."
"You killed them?"
I hesitated. What did that mean?
"What did you want me to do? Read them their Miranda Rights?" I said. "I am a vampire hunter. I kill them. Period. Don't call me in, and then whine because I killed the Godforsaken bastards."
"I'm not complaining," he said. "Just asking."
"Well, Longhouse...," I said as a man stepped out the door behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder. He pulled something out of his shirt, catching my eye. I just wanted to ensure it wasn't a weapon or a cross. My eyes fell on the large ruby, and suddenly I was consumed with red.
I felt my jaw drop and my hand fall to my side as abject cold washed through me. The phone clattered on the sidewalk at my feet. The ruby owned my full attention. I felt empty.
"Well done, vampire," he said. I didn't recognize the voice. "I had plans for those two, but you beat me to them." He chuckled. It wasn't a nice, happy chuckle. "I have decided to spare you. This time. If I see you again, you will die."
I just stared at the ruby. I couldn't move. Hell, I could barely think. All I felt was a sense of expectancy. What did he want?
"Go home, vampire. Go home."
I turned and headed for my motorcycle. All I wanted to do was go home. Nothing, no one, would stop me.
CHAPTER 2
My eyes popped open. Pitch black. Coffin.
Reaching over my head, I found the small control panel and turned on the soft LED lights. Yep, I was inside Boney's old coffin in Desiree's basement. I couldn't think of it as my coffin. Desiree wanted me to, though. She wanted me to consider her home my home.
Wasn't going to happen. I was already looking for a new home. Nothing as fancy as Desiree's big Highland Park mini-mansion. I really didn't know why she would need, or even want, such a large home.
The coffin was as large as a twin-sized bed. I mean huge for a coffin. In fact, it had a twin-sized mattress in it. A very comfortable coffin. It also had a small flat panel TV, charger for my phone and stereo system. There was no phone in the charger.
Something very hot was burning my back. I bowed my back to get some relief, and reached back to find a blessed silver bullet. I brushed it aside, burning my fingers, and remembered being shot with my own gun the night before. The blessed bullet had burned its way out of me.
"What's going on?" I said.
I sat up. Yes, the coffin was that big. Four foot deep, with a vaulted lid, in fact. I could easily sit up inside it.
First off, it was the first time I ever woke up alone in that coffin. Since moving into her house, Desiree had shared my coffin. Twice Desiree and another male fang whore of her acquaintance had shared it with us.
Secondly, I was still fully dressed in the tattered and bloody clothes from the mall fight. I never slept in my clothes, and I always changed as soon as possible when I bloodied my clothes. I was quite fastidious about cleanliness.
Thirdly, I didn't recall anything since calling Longhouse outside of the mall. How did I get home? Then I remembered...
The ruby.
What the Hell was that? I thought. What happened to me?
I needed to talk to Desiree. Maybe she had some answers. But the lid didn't budge when I pushed it. It was locked. I frowned as I hit the open button, listening to the locks click open and the hiss of hydraulics.
A platter with my breakfast was sitting beside the coffin. Desiree had been there already. I quickly drank my fill, then stripped out of my befouled clothes. Both the jeans and tank top were ruined. Desiree was good with leather, so the jacket and boots were safe.
Naked, I looked myself over. The blood was dried upon my body. It was severely caked under my nails and in the cuticles of both hands. My hair was tacky with congealed blood, too. I felt disgusting.
Though I really enjoyed a nice hot shower in the morning, I knew there was a better way to clean myself up. So I changed into a wolf. I remained a wolf a full five seconds, and was back to being human again. Whenever I transformed like that, it left me utterly clean of all dirt, grime, blood, and makeup. Way beyond soap and water clean.
Pulling on peach colored sweat pants and a white v-neck, I headed upstairs. I could feel Desiree upstairs. She was alone. Her emotions were fired up, too. Very tense. A little aroused. I shook my head woefully as I ascended the basement stairs.
Her house was probably one of the few homes in that exclusive neighborhood with a basement. North Texas was not "basement country." I suspect most of the homes with basements were originally built by vampires, or mortals wishing to attract vampires.
Desiree was in the den, or what she referred to as her Media Room. I knew exactly were she was, and even her mood thanks to my supernatural vampiric senses. I could feel the neighbors, too, for several houses down in all directions. Their hot, sweet blood called to me in the basest way.
"Desiree, I'm up," I called, striking out for the den.
"I heard you," she called back.
I stopped just inside the den. She didn't even glance back at me.
"What are you watching?"
"Shhhh!" she said, cutting an annoyed look my way.
The beautiful African-American was watching her "program." Or one of several she watched obsessively. The show was on the Vampire Entertainment Network, or VEN, and was called Blood Passions. Basically, a vampire themed primetime soap opera. It was cable, and heaped in the cable package with the porn stations. Vampire erotica. Very graphic. What little I had seen showed it was filled with graphic sex and violence, tons of nudity. Which wasn't that far off reality, except in the show the vampires were the good guys.
Desiree was all but drooling as she stared at the show's mai
n male character, a vampire named Lord Jean-Anton Devereaux, sharing blood and other body fluids with the female vampire lead, wicked and wanton Lady Alison Loveless. Desiree grunted when Lord Devereaux released his lover's neck, then bite her neck on the other side.
I had to look away when they zoomed in on his penis, vanishing into her body. I'd forgotten just how graphic they were. When VEN said graphic sex, that is exactly what they meant. Vampires were easily aroused, and I was about to leave when they went to commercial.
"What?" Desiree cried. "Bastards!"
I laughed. "They guaranteed you'll be back after the commercial."
I took a deep breath to bring my now raging libido under control. It didn't take much to set it off, and the longer I was a vampire, the easier it seemed to be to fire it up. Boney, my best vampire friend, said that the longer I went between lovers, the less sex I had, the easier it would be to rouse my libido. Evidence seemed to be proving him correct, as he usually was when it concerned vampires.
There hadn't been much abstaining going on since moving in with Desiree. She was insatiable. Desiree had friends that she brought over for me. All fang whores, and they all knew exactly how to arouse a vampire's lust.
Desiree noticed my condition, and an animal lust filled her eyes. The shapely fang whore with the straightened, long red hair was bi-sexual, leaning toward girl-on-girl. Her occupation was streetwalker, so she pretty much got all the male attention she needed, and then some. When it came to making love, Desiree preferred women, but when it came to vampires, she didn't care either way.
I felt my jaw drop as we locked eyes, the erotic electricity intense between us. Vampire pheromones, the only proven aphrodisiac known, started pumping into the air as butterflies erupted in my lower belly. My gaze fell on her long, slender throat, so smooth and enticing. I heard her heart starting pounding faster and faster as she reacted to the pheromones, felt her blood surging through her body. Then my eyes rose up to her full, glossy lips. They parted every so slightly, and a thrill raced up my spine. I'd never had desires for other women as a mortal, but since becoming a vampire I was not so choosy in my choice of lovers. And Desiree had learned quickly how to push my buttons to get what she wanted.
"This just in from Dallas, Texas," came from the TV. It was a news break. The mention of our city caught both of our attention. "Spectacular video footage of yet another vampire suicide, this time in front of a busy super market in a residential area."
"What the Hell?" I said, engrossed by the sight of a vampire in jeans and t-shirt shouting defiantly at the world as the sun rose. He was white, but the early morning indirect sunlight was starting to crisp and blacken his exposed skin. He acted oblivious to the pain. Then he stepped out of the shadow of a building, and was hit by direct sunlight. It only took seconds to reduce him to ashes. "Holy smoke."
"Oh my God, not another one," Desiree said. "Are they going insane?"
"Another one?" I said, confused. "This is the first one I heard about."
"It happens," Desiree said, slumping in her chair, head hanging low. "Some go rogue, others commit sunrise suicide." She shook her head sadly. "But there seems to be so many lately."
"Why haven't I heard about them?"
"Well, Sable, you never watched VEN until you moved in with me," Desiree said. "And I think most of them were overlooked and under-reported due to all of your...um...recent activities."
My "recent activities" included stalking two families of murderous vampires, killing most of them, and killing a pretty good chunk of the city's elected leadership in the process. Okay, the vampires had Changed the mayor, some city council members, city manager, and several high ranking police department officials. So I was justified in killing and/or outing them as vampires.
"This is the fifth public suicide in two weeks in Dallas, which normally sees about one vampire suicide every three years. Vampire leaders in the city blame the stress of the recent tragedies as the cause," the handsome young newsman said. "Reliable sources say the five vampires caught on tape committing suicide were only a third of the total in that same time period. Some fear a new, unknown threat is forcing them to commit suicide, possibly against their will."
"Well, at least they didn't blame me," I said, nose crinkled at the TV. The local media liked to blame all vampire deaths on Sable Hart, or Black Heart. "That’s a first."
"Don't make jokes, Sable. It's not funny," Desiree said, eyes wide.
"Sorry," I said. Then I realized he wasn't shouting defiantly, but singing. "Is he singing 'I am Woman?'"
"No, 'I am a Vampire, hear me roar' over and over," Desiree said. "They all do."
I did a double take on her. Was that true? Why?
"Every vampire that suicides sings, 'I am Vampire, hear me roar?'"
"What? Oh, no," Desiree said, grinning sadly. "Just the last five, the vampires they are reporting on."
"All five of them?"
"Yes."
I just stared at her. What could make a vampire do that? Vampires didn't want to die anymore than mortals. I can see one going crazy and singing that song, but five in two weeks? Another force was behind it. And it scared me.
Then I remembered the ruby that so enthralled me the previous night. I recalled the wave of intense cold that washed through me, and how empty I felt afterwards.
Magic!
The memories pulled a gasp out of me. Desiree's head snapped around, worry in her dark eyes. I felt weak, so sat down upon an ottoman. I had Desiree's full and concerned attention.
"Are the vampires committing suicide connected in any way?"
"I don't know. Why?" Desiree said. "The police don't care. They don't investigate the murder or suicide of vampires. Do you know something?"
I have to admit, my curiosity was piqued. Vampires killing themselves was unusual enough, but for so many to do it in such a short span of time was passingly strange, to say the least. And I couldn't help but wonder if what happened to me had anything to do with it. I knew he could've ordered me to kill myself and I would've obeyed.
That shouldn't be possible with me. I only had one Compulsion placed upon me by the vampire that created me, and that was because I tried to commit suicide, and take him with me. He placed a Compulsion against suicide on me, so I could never do it. But I felt the power of that ruby, and knew it would override that compulsion.
"Something is not right there," I said. "I'm going over to take a look."
I hurried back downstairs to dress. Make-up took less than five minutes. I wasn't a big fan of caking it on, you know? In no time I was slipping into a pair of snug, faded jeans and a Dallas Cowboy t-shirt.
I put on some running shoes and jumped into the ole Mustang. It was brand spanking new. I'd only had it a few days. Since I was trying to keep a low profile, driving at night, it was charcoal gray with black racing stripes and a black leather interior. I loved that car.
The scene of the "suicide" wasn't that far. It was north of the Park Cities, in what I called North Dallas. The super market was on Preston Road, in an established neighborhood. Compared with what was being built in the suburbs, the so called super market was rather on the small side.
The parking lot lights were bright. My vampiric ears picked up a myriad of flying insects buzzing those high powered lights, and even the buzzing sound the lights made. Sometimes superior hearing was just annoying. The lot was mostly full, and so was the store and the smaller shops sharing the small strip mall. I could feel all that hot blood surging around me. It was a heady feeling. But I'd fed, and made sure I was quite full before venturing out.
I was as safe as a vampire could be.
Recalling the angle of the video, I realized it was store surveillance. I quickly located the camera, and two others. There was nothing to see in the parking lot. They cleaned it up, not even leaving a stain. I wondered if they had it steam cleaned or sand blasted. So I went inside and located the night manager.
"How may I help you, ma'am?"
His nam
e tag said he was Hank, and he was the assistant manager. Hank was tall and lanky, maybe all of twenty, with dark spiky hair and pimply face. He got a good look at me, and his hormones kicked into overdrive. I could smell it, thicker than pea soup. The bright aura around him shimmied and brightened, which I'd finally figured out didn't necessarily mean arousal, just a quickened heart rate.
His excitement made me wish I had vamped up. You know, dressed in all leather and overtly sexual. Kinda gothy sexy. Kinky. It was how people perceived vampires. And believe me, it got a reaction. Not always good.
His arousal kicked started my libido, and I began to ooze vampire pheromones. They made everyone horny, and very pliant. Very open to suggestion. But it forced me to suppress my own unholy urges to stay focused.
"Hi, my name is Sable. I'm investigating the suicide of the vampire this morning," I said, pulling out a pen and small note pad. I didn't need them, but it made me look official. "Were you or anyone working right now present when it happened?"
"No, ma'am, that was at the end of the night shift," he said, nervously looking at my chest and licking his lips. I had a nice chest. Few men could avoid looking at it, and most seemed to just stare. Sometimes it got annoying.
"You're night manager."
"I work evenings, not grave."
"People talk," I said and gave him my most winning smile. Hank melted. The younger they are, the easier they are to manipulate with feminine wiles. Vampire pheromones helped. "What did you hear? I'd really appreciate anything you can give me."
"Like what?"
"Was he seen with anyone prior to this? Did he just walk in out of the blue?"
"He just walked up and started that song, I am Vampire," Hank said, pressing his thin lips together looking up as he thought. "He was a regular here, but we didn't know he was a vampire. Only person that really knew him, that I know about, is Miss Hancock."