by Gallier, TW
"She went down easy enough," Tanya said. "Nothing special, like I told you."
"You're going to think nothing special when I get out of this," I growled, glaring murderously at my captors.
Without another word, Francisco, Tanya and Sid lifted me up and carried me away into the night. Jerry hurried away ahead of us. Moments later Jerry drove up in a large, silver sedan. A Chrysler 300. I smiled, determined to keep them from getting me inside that damned car.
But as my carriers held me, Jerry got out of the car with a white cotton pad and a brown bottle. He paused to judge the wind direction, then came up to me from upwind.
"Chloroform will calm her down long enough to get her to council," Jerry said, grinning as he started emptying the contents of that bottle into the handkerchief.
I was reminded of Desiree's almost off-hand warning to stay away from drugs and alcohol, since vampire's were more susceptible to their dire effects. I redoubled my efforts to break free, but they tightened their grasps and held on as Jerry walked up and pressed the pad to my face.
"Hhhnnnnnnnnnn!" I screamed into the cloth.
I held my breath and continued to struggle. I was a vampire. Why did I need to breathe? If I didn't breathe, they couldn't drug me into la-la land.
So someone punched me in the gut. I gasped out of reflex. That sucked in a lungful of chloroform, and it was lights out super fast for me.
CHAPTER 3
I was in and out of consciousness. I don’t know how much time passed, only that I was in a very dark place. Literally. About the third or fourth time I almost achieved full consciousness, I realized I was scrunched up in a trunk, and the car was moving.
Being pulled out of the car almost woke me. My eyes fluttered. I was awake enough to understand what was happening. The fluorescent light hurt my eyes. It was still night. The silver bullet was out of my belly. I thought I was gagged, but realized it was a just something holding a chloroform cloth over my mouth and nose. And blackness consumed me again.
“Is she awake?” a gruff male voice said.
“Almost, boss,” Francisco said.
He kicked me in the shoulder. Not hard, but enough to stir me a bit. I realized at that time I was laying face down on cold tile. Forcing my eyes open, I found myself staring at a pair of very nice men’s dress shoes. Following the legs up, I found Francisco frowning down at me.
“Ah, we meet again, mi amigo,” I managed to slur out.
“She’s awake,” Francisco said, and walked away.
A soft murmur of voices filled the air. I remembered where they were taking me. Vampire council. That couldn’t be good. I wasn’t very popular among vampires in general, and I could only imagine the degree of hostility I’d find from the vampire community’s leadership. After all, it hadn't been a full week since I fouled their evil plans to take over the city.
I felt them to my bones. They radiated power. Mostly, that felt like menace. I ground my teeth, felt the goose bumps on my skin. It was the feel of old vampires.
Propping myself up on my right elbow, belly down, left leg cocked, I pushed my hair straight back out of my face with my left and looked around. I was in the middle of a circle of vampires. My brain was still too groggy to even begin to count them, but there had to be at least two dozen. Mostly men. They ran the gamut of size, shape, age, and race.
“What is this? Some kind of vampiric rainbow coalition?”
That raised a few brows. Mostly, though, they stared at me with casual indifference, or mild annoyance. So satisfied I was making a bad first impression, I dragged myself to my knees. I was recovering from the effects of the chloroform remarkably fast, but it left my stomach sour and head feeling strange.
“Someone owes me twenty dollars for a new Cowboy t-shirt,” I said, pushing my finger through the bullet hole. I glanced around at the room. It was a large domed room, marble, mostly unfurnished. There were ten chairs evenly spaced around the circular room. Seven men and three women sat, with their evil minions arrayed behind them. My senses indicated we were deep underground. “Where are we? The bat cave?”
I heard a single grunt of amusement from behind. Slanting a look over my left shoulder, I spotted Bone Daddy standing behind an absolutely gorgeous brunette. When our eyes locked, his went wide. I saw fear. His mistress suddenly perked up, curious at our connection.
"Do you know my friend?" she said, leaning forward slightly.
"Huh?" I said. That's me, quick on my feet. "You're friend? You mean that Jesus-on-Steroids monstrosity?"
Boney stiffened, and several others in the room tried unsuccessfully to stifle barks of laughter. Oh yeah. An appreciative audience. I was starting to warm to them, despite the fact Boney graced them all with a dark scowl. Then big momma vampire locked eyes with me and turned on the oomph. Ouch.
"Oh," I gasped, falling back to sit on my legs. The intensity of her gaze was palpable. Sucked the air right out of my lungs. My libido went into overdrive. "You have a license to carry those eyes?"
They all radiated power and menace, but hers easily outstripped the others. And she turned it on, too. I was in full blown horny in seconds flat, unable to pull my eyes off her face, off her glistening, kissable lips. Moisture warmed my nether regions and I felt my nipples intensely. I wanted her so badly I groaned with need. My chin rose ever so slightly, offering up my throat and lips to her.
"So beautiful," I whispered.
"You're turning out to be more amusing that I hoped," she said.
With those words her erotic power seemed to evaporate. A tension I hadn't noticed loosened all around me. So even the other vampires were effected. I shook myself mentally, trying to shuck the cobwebs of arousal she left behind.
"Glad I amuse you. And you are?" I said, voice hoarse and strained.
I saw an opportunity to learn more about the big, scary vampire that held my friend Boney's leash. Boney stood behind her, grimacing and avoiding my eyes. After her demonstration, I understood why she still had a hold on him. Wow. Made me wonder on her age.
She hesitated, pursing full red lips as she considered me from her elaborately carved chair. It was more like a throne, really. Each vampire leader sat in very individualized chairs. Most quite ornate. She looked to be about five foot five, with a shapely build and expressive blue eyes. She wore a red and black silk evening gown, with a fortune in diamond and ruby jewelry. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, and she radiated sex.
"I am Antoinette LaRue," she said. Up until she said her name, I didn't note any accent. But she gave her name with a very distinct French accent. That accent immediately departed. "And you are the infamous undead vampire hunter, Black Heart. Sable Hart. You are very pretty."
I didn't like the way she was sizing me up. I recalled her primary financial endeavor was working pimps and whores. She was Dallas's top madam. If Big Momma thought Lil ole Sable was going to roll over and let her put me to work on the streets, she was sadly mistaken.
There were two others behind her, beside Boney. A tall, skinny man and a rather shapely woman. The man wore all black, including a leather trailduster, and looked tattered. Kinda like he was used badly and put up wet. His eyes were wild, and I instinctively knew he was barely hanging onto sanity. The woman was vaguely familiar looking.
“Angelique!” I said, jumping to my feet as I recognized Dominique’s younger sister. She was wearing a cobalt blue mini-dress and matching heels. “I see you found a new master.”
Angelique’s eyes flashed, and she took a step towards me. I know, taunting a one hundred and fifty-six year old vampire is stupid. I never said I was a genius, but I was more than confident that I could defeat that old French whore.
“Angelique. No,” Antoinette said softly. She quietly said something French. They both leveled cold eyes on me a long second. "Later."
“Oooh, you speak French,” I said, not knowing what Antoinette said to Angelique, but seeing her backing down. Very reluctantly backing down. “I guess you’re not
really from Texas, are you?” She just raised a haughty brow at me. “I suggest you keep your little lapdog on a tight leash. She might get hurt.”
“I would suggest you be more respectful of your elders, Miss Hart,” Antoinette said, her lovely eyes narrowing slightly.
“You are a yappy thing,” another senior vampire said. She was a stoutly build woman, looked to be around forty, short blonde hair, no make up. She wore a simple blue and pink print dress, probably from Target or some mid-range retailer. Sensible shoes. No jewelry. My impression was of a stereotypical small town, no nonsense wife and mother. “We didn’t gather here to listen to you dig your own grave.”
“And you are?”
“Tara Voorhies.”
Tara's aura was second only to Antoinette's in size, though very little power radiated off her. But of all of them there, she gave the impression of being the most dangerous.
“You’re here, little lady, so we can determine if you killed our fellow council member or not,” said the vampire that Francisco and team stood behind, forcing me to turn completely around. Again. Why couldn't they all sit on the same side of the room? When I opened my mouth to ask who he was, he held up a hand to stop me. “I’m Jeff Howell.”
He was maybe six feet tall, a little heavier than medium build, with short dark hair and sky blue eyes.
His throne was the simplest of them all. Just a simple straight back chair. He wore a dark blue western style suit, no tie, with a black felt cowboy hat and black cowboy boots. He even had one of those big oval silver belt buckles, like he was a rodeo cowboy or something.
“You must represent the goat-roper vampire faction,” I said, and grinned at him. He grinned back. That surprised me, so I naturally warmed to him. “To save time, maybe you’d do the honors and introduce everyone.”
Jeff looked around at the mostly serious faces. He shook his head slowly.
"We don't think that would be prudent at the moment," he said.
I frowned at him. Jeff was an odd vampire. He tried real hard to project his Texas Good Ole Boy image, but there was an ominous aura about him. All of the seated vampire leaders exuded a dark malice, some more than others, and each a little bit different. I had the impression their professional demeanors were all thin veneers, covering up raving killers. But that could just be the vampire hunter in me, my own personal prejudice.
"I don't think Miss Hart is interested in getting to know any of us that personally," Tara said, taking control of the room. I felt the tension rise, and the whole demeanor of the vampires surrounding me change. In an eye blink. Quite startling. I turned to Tara warily. "You are here for a reason, Miss Hart."
"Do tell," I said.
Okay, I didn't really want to know. Nothing they wanted from me could be good. In fact, I couldn't think of a single thing the vampire leadership would want from me but my head on a platter.
"We have a problem," Tara said, matter-of-factly. She locked eyes with me. "Vampires are being murdered."
"Important vampires," Antoinette said.
"Powerful vampires," Jeff said.
"Charles Healey?" I said.
"Last of a long list of others," Tara said.
"I didn't kill Ole Charley," I said, taking a defiant stance because I knew I was going to piss them off now. "I would've liked to be the one that killed him, but I didn't. And unless the other murdered vampires were Clive, Yuri and their undead families of nasties, then I had nothing to do with the other killings."
"We know," Tara said.
I slanted a look at Francisco and company. They were stone-faced, not even looking at me. I scowled at them.
"Then why am I here?" I said, managing not to yell. An angry display wouldn't help my cause. "Jeff's gaggle of undead clowns gave the impression they thought I was responsible."
"They were mistaken," Tara said, not even looking at them. "We were curious about your appearance, though."
"I was curious about why vampires were suddenly committing suicide in very similar ways," I said. "It is kinda scary, you know?"
"We know," Tara said, then hesitated. She looked around the room, receiving ominous nods from seven of the remaining leaders.
"Why do I feel like I'm about to be voted off the island?" I said.
"Nothing is further from the truth," Tara said.
"Then what? Just say it," I said. "I've got better things to do."
"Stake vampires?" a sultry Latina vampire said.
Her dark eyes narrowed dangerously. She was second only to Antoinette in beauty, though only about five foot three. The sexy Latina had long brown hair, parted down the middle, and a shapely body. Her clothes were very edgy, stylish — midriff baring silk top, snug pants and designer pumps. Her followers — two men and one woman — looked equally young, attractive and stylish. All Hispanic, too.
"No," I said. "Hunt down and stake rogue vampires. I understand not all vampires are 'evil.' And I suspect even you agree rogue vampires need to be staked, and staked fast."
She leaned forward on her rather gaudy throne and looked me over intently a long moment. Finally, she locked eyes with me and a jolt of energy passed between us. We connected somehow, and it wasn't frightening like Antoinette's display of power. Strangely enough, I got the impression she might, possibly, like me. I know, strange.
"There are no rogue vampires in Dallas at this time," she said.
"You mean after I killed those two from out of town last night?" I said. I think the room became a bit chillier. "There will be more. I'm watching for them, and I'll be ready."
They all shared more ominous looks. What? Was I making another bad impression? Go figure. And as a mortal I was a great first impression person, too. Everyone loved me.
"You have a gift," Tara said. "A gift for endearing yourself to people."
I grinned. She had a sense of humor under that stern exterior. The big African-American vampire nodded with the slightest of grins, too.
"Thanks. I try."
"Hmm," she said, giving me a disapproving gaze. "Back to business. We know you aren't the one forcing vampires to commit suicide. We also know the person doing it is a werewolf. More importantly, we know how he is doing it."
"You said, 'he.' So you know who the werewolf is?"
"No. That was a generic he. The werewolf could just as easily be female," Tara said. "I suspect an alpha male, though. Alpha males are obsessed with proving dominance. They don't like the knowledge that vampires are above them in the food chain."
I shrugged. "Fascinating. Really, it is. But how does this concern me?"
"We want you to hunt down the werewolf responsible, kill him, and return the talisman to us," Antoinette said.
"You want what? I've never hunted werewolves. I don't know how. And what's this about a talisman? What talisman?"
"The Coeur de Sade," Tara said. "It is an ancient and powerful talisman. We want you to return it to us."
Now that was interesting. Of course, that conversation reminded me of how my evening ended at the mall. Had I crossed paths with the vampire killer? Was I only alive because I killed vampires, too?
"The werewolf stole it from you?" I said. They hesitated long enough to give me my answer. "Ah, you want the talisman to increase your power. I see. This isn't about saving vampires, it's about increasing your power."
"No, you foolish woman, you don't see," Antoinette said, coming to her feet and glaring at me. "The Coeur de Sade is a talisman used by vampire hunters to capture, control, and kill vampires. We must gain control of it before we are all destroyed by it."
I laid a wary look on her. Her eyes were fiery. I wondered if she was afraid, or lusted for power. I didn't trust vampires. Werewolves took the rap for being the most obsessed with domination and submission. Werewolf packs were all about the pecking order. But that didn't mean that vampires were immune to the desire to dominate.
"This Coeur de Sade...what is it? Where did it come from and what does it do?" I said, speaking to Tara, but keeping an e
ye on Antoinette. "And why should I care?"
"Apollonia?" Tara said, glancing at the pretty redhead to her right rear.
Apollonia nodded and headed towards me. The blue-eyed beauty was only about five foot four, but stood tall in black Mary Jane stiletto platforms with six inch heels. She wore a blue spandex mini dress and dark pantyhose. Her heels clacked loud in the mostly emptiness of that underground chamber as she approached. The vampire handed me a color photo of a necklace.
It was the necklace I'd seen outside North Park Mall. Indeed, it was my last coherent memory between walking out of the mall and walking up that evening. Of course, the previous night the sight of it completely overloaded my brain.
"That is the Coeur de Sade," Tara said. "Actually, the rather large ruby is the talisman, the necklace is inconsequential. It might have been remounted, too."
"Pretty," I said. "And it does...?"
I had an idea now, but I wanted to know for sure.
Antoinette answered instead. "When held or worn by someone the talisman is activated." She hesitated, as if talking about it brought pain. "Any vampire that looks upon it will instantly be captured."
That sent a chill crawling up my spine.
"Captured?"
Tara took over when Antoinette hesitated again. "Excuse Antoinette. She was once, long ago, under the power of the talisman. It frightens her the most of all of us. But to answer your question...the vampire will freeze upon seeing the talisman, and await his new master's command. Basically, you become the talisman bearer's absolute slave."
"Slave? As in incapable of free thought kind of slave?" I said, recalling my experience.
"Pretty much. Whether you have any free thought, I don't know. I just know any vampire captured by the talisman will obey without hesitation or complaint," Tara said.
"To the letter," Jeff said. "A vampire's Compulsions are even overwhelmed, so the owner of the talisman could order the captured vampire to kill the Sire of his family."