Fangs for Nothing (Vampire Hunting and Other Foolish Endeavors)

by Adrianne Ambrose

  A scintillating blonde with giant blue eyes standing at Maureen’s left elbow gave an exasperated sigh and said, “Can we come in?”

  “What?”

  “Are you going to invite us in or what?” the girl demanded. It took me a moment to realize she was the frizzy blonde from the other night who was so eager to sign the blood contract. She must have realized she was being a bit bitchy because she plastered a demur smile on her face, batted her lashes, and said, “Please?”

  “No, he is not!” Grandma appeared at the door standing imperiously in her house coat. “You may not come in. As a matter of fact, I don’t even want you on my lawn. That’s private property too, you know.” The girls all exchanged looks, their bravado quickly deflating under the stern gaze of a no-nonsense matriarch. “Herbert doesn’t want to be friends with you, and I can see why. Dropping by at all hours. Causing a racket. Your parents would be ashamed if they knew.” Some of the girls hung their heads. “You all go home now and think about what it means to be a productive part of society instead of running around all night like a bunch of floozies.” The blonde jerked her head up sharply and gave a challenging look, but Grandma wasn’t having it. “And don’t even think about vandalizing our house again. I wrote down the license plate of your car, and if so much as one more flower gets trampled in the yard, I’m calling my cousin who is the chief of police.”

  “Sorry, Mrs. Lehmer,” Maureen mumbled as the girls shuffled off the front steps.

  “Keep it down as you leave,” Grandma added. “You’ve already disturbed the neighbors enough for one evening.” The girls started moving down our front walk. “There’s still time for you girls to become young ladies, you know.” The formerly frizzy blonde lifted her hand and gave Grandma the finger. “Except for maybe you there, missy,” Grandma added.

  Chapter 22

  What the hell was up with those chicks? I was back in my room, but way too wired to sleep. Thank God for Grandma and her rigid adherence to manners. The girls were all so pretty, I’m not sure I could have kept them out all on my own. The exception was that blonde girl. Even becoming one of the Chosen couldn’t mask that nasty personality. She was repulsive.

  I started thinking about Violet Girl, aka Maureen. I guess I should have figured out sooner that I knew her from somewhere. She was pretty dazzling, but that was obviously from signing the blood contract. I’d probably met her pre-transformation, and that’s why I didn’t recognize her. Sticking a hand under my bed, I felt around until I found my dusty stack of yearbooks. I cracked open the most recent one and began scanning names starting with the girls in my class.

  Ten minutes later I found her: Maureen O’Neil. I definitely knew her. She was in my biology class sophomore year, and we’d dissected a frog together one day when both our lab partners had decided to play sick. She didn’t go by Maureen at school; everyone just called her Mo. Studying the photo, it was obvious that Mo and Violet Girl were one and the same by her pointed ears and tiny upturned Irish nose. Still, it would be easy to mistake Violet Girl for Mo’s older, hotter sister.

  Then I remembered the girl in the airport when we came home from San Francisco. The one that had glared at me while that flock of girls was tossing their hair around trying to get Xander’s attention. It was Maureen. I’d looked right at her and not recognized her. No wonder she’d given me the stink eye. And I always complained that hanging out with Xander made me invisible.

  Was that why Maureen had signed the blood contract and let some creepo vampire feed off of her? She was just tired of being overlooked? I had to assume that was the reason, but honestly, it didn’t really make any sense. If I remembered correctly, she was perfectly cute without having to become a snack-pack for the undead. She’d needed to brush her hair a bit more and maybe buy some clothes that actually fit her, but besides that, she had huge cute potential. At the time, I’d had a monster crush on her lab partner, Melanie Nickels, so I didn’t give her much thought. In my defense, I wasn’t the only guy in the school. Plus, it was obvious she had a good figure even under those baggy clothes, so I’m pretty sure not every guy in our class was ignoring her. Of course, Lana said even she had considered signing the blood contract, and that was sheer lunacy. If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never understand girls.

  *****

  The Dodge Dart rumbled up in front of our house exactly at two. I’d shimmied out of my bedroom window five minutes earlier and was lurking in the bushes. If I’d been smart, I would have told Xander to meet me a few blocks down the street just in case Grandma recognized the sound of the Dart’s engine, but it was too late for that now.

  I could see Xander smirking in the dark as I climbed in. He knew I’d show. There was never a doubt in his mind. Then I did a double take. “Why are you a blond?”

  Xander was clad in black pants, a black shirt, black vest, and a black jacket, but his head was as blond as Lana’s. His hand flew up to touch his hair. It was a very self-conscious gesture. A very un-Xander gesture. “It’s a disguise,” he said.

  “Are we going to some kind of Matrix costume party or something?” I asked. Xander looked weird as a blond. Not bad, exactly, just weird. Like a character from Bleach.

  “No. I just thought,” he stammered, “that if I changed my look then maybe they wouldn’t recognize us right away, and maybe they’d, you know…”

  “Mistake you for one of them again?” I supplied.

  “Well, yeah.” Xander squirmed a little. “I mean, it worked the first time. I brought a disguise for you, too.”

  I inwardly cringed. If Xander had thought dying his hair blond was a good idea, I didn’t even want to consider what he thought was an appropriate disguise for me. Xander with black hair stood out. Xander with blond hair was like a flashing neon billboard. You had to look at it even if you didn’t want to. There was no way we were going to slip under the bridge unnoticed. “Good call, Morpheus. So what’s the plan?”

  “Plan?” Xander shot me a confused squint. “What do you mean? We’re going to get Rini. That’s the plan.”

  “Great,” I mumbled to myself. Nothing quite like stumbling into a nest of vipers without even so much as a snakebite kit. “We are so going to end up vampire treats.”

  “I don’t think so, Sherbie. Just relax for once and trust me.”

  We parked at the church, as usual. Xander twisted around and pulled some stuff out of the back seat. “Here, put this on,” he said, thrusting a kind of silvery metallic button-down shirt at me.

  “No,” I said, throwing it back at him.

  “Sherbie, it’s part of your disguise. No one that knows you is going to expect you to be wearing something like this.”

  “No one that knows me is going to be under the bridge,” I pointed out.

  “Rini’s going to be there. And Lydia Sarducci. Plus the vampire, and what about that super hot lady. She looked you over pretty good.”

  “Aerony?”

  “Yeah.”

  I snatched back the shirt and started unbuttoning my own. “Do you think she’s a vampire, too?”

  Xander shrugged. “It’s hard to say. She’s definitely one of those Nearlings. I wonder if they drink blood.” Xander unscrewed the lid off a tub of something.

  “What’s that?” I gave it a wary scan.

  “Hair gel,” he informed me, rubbing a glob of it between the palms of his hands. “Hold still.” Before I could protest, he had grabbed my head and was roughly smearing the gel into my hair. Then he combed his fingers through my hair, slicking it back. “That looks good,” he told me. “Now, for the final touch.” After wiping the excess gel from his hands onto a towel, he rummaged around in a small bag and tried to hand me something.

  “What now?” I asked.

  “Just use it.”

  “What is it?” I persisted, refusing to take the small tube he was extending toward me.

  “Black eyeliner.”

  “Oh, no,” I protested.

  “Oh, yes,” he countered. “Don�
�t make me put you in a headlock.”

  By the time we got out of the car, I felt like a total idiot. I mean, gelled and outlined and sparkly is not usually how I leave the house. But I didn’t look like myself, that was for sure. We cautiously made our way down the path to the access door. There must not have been too much going on because instead of the giant bouncer, there was just a surly Goth boy smoking a cigarette and reading a copy of Sky & Telescope. He barely glanced in our direction and did nothing to stop us when Xander reached for the door. Our disguises must have been working.

  No one was around under the bridge, so we immediately headed for the stairs. We could hear music and laughter coming from down below. “Let’s just try to slip in, grab Rini, and get the hell out,” Xander whispered as we cautiously descended the steps. We could see a light at the end of the passage from the vampire’s lair, but the hallway itself was pitch black.

  “Yeah,” I heartily agreed. I couldn’t shake the feeling we were already being watched. “I’m totally with you.”

  And that’s when a couple of the beefy boys grabbed us.

  Chapter 23

  I was already not feeling uber masculine, thanks to my Xander disguise. Being grabbed by a shirtless hulk and goose stepped into the vampire’s lair wasn’t helping. There was some type of old-fashioned jazz music playing on a phonograph, and several kids were trying to figure out a dance that I suspected to be the Charleston. A couple dozen more people lounged on various antique couches and settees looking glassy eyed and languorous. One girl in a deep purple dress jerked to attention when she saw me. Our eyes locked. It was Violet Girl. “Maureen?” I mouthed. She just stared back at me, wide eyed.

  “I don’t see Rini anywhere,” Xander whispered.

  “Great.” It would figure that we’d rushed in to be slaughtered when Rini was probably safe at home sulking.

  The vampire, reclining on his throne, took notice of our forced approach. He called to the beefy boys, “My darlings, there is no need for this. Please, let them go.” The hulks restraining us took his request to mean they should shove us so hard that we fell at the vampire’s feet. Short Vincent smiled as if nothing could be more delightful than us paying him an impromptu visit. “Is it too much to hope that you have come to join our little party?”

  “You bet your sweet ass it’s too much to hope,” Xander growled as we got to our feet.

  Vincent gave him a look of complete amusement. “My darling, what have you done to your hair? You look positively theatrical.”

  This statement caused Xander to burst out with a short derisive laugh. He gestured at the vampire’s brocade jacket, knee breeches, and buckled shoes. “That really hurts coming from a guy who looks like he’s next in line for the guillotine after Marie Antoinette.”

  The vampire visibly stiffened. “I do not find that funny. She was a beautiful lady who was horribly maligned.” Aerony slinked out of the shadows and placed a soothing hand on the vampire’s cheek as she leaned against the arm of his chair.

  Sensing he’d hit a sore spot, Xander drew breath to continue his snark attack.

  “So,” I blurted. “How did you end up in Cleveland?” It was the first neutral topic that jumped into my head. I knew if I let Xander keep doing all the talking, we were going to end up dead for sure. “I mean, it sounds like you’re used to more… um… statelier venues.” I hedged. “I mean, I would have thought a vampire living in America would, you know, be in New Orleans or San Francisco or something.”

  The vampire chuckled, obviously amused. “New Orleans was just a ploy we set up in the nineteen seventies. We had some small history there back during the revolution, but it was mostly just people’s imaginations, mosquitoes, and swamps. As far as San Francisco, there were several years back after the Gold Rush when the city was positively infested with vampires, and I must admit, the parties were really quite good. But after a few decades, it just became intolerable. Too many eager people throwing themselves at your feet and begging to be bitten. When I enthrall someone, I want there to at least be a small amount of challenge.” The vampire’s eyes glittered in the dimly lit room.

  I nodded my head several times. “What’s the point of trying to enchant people who are falling over themselves to be enchanted?”

  “Exactly.” Short Vincent smiled. He leaned forward, his eyes locked onto mine. “There’s something very intuitive about you, isn’t there? You see more than other people see. Something more than your friends, perhaps? You’d make a wonderful vampire.”

  “Thank you.” I felt my face flush. “Maybe I would.” I actually didn’t want to be a vampire, but somehow having Short Vincent compliment me made me feel rosy all over. Rini was right, he was very handsome. But it wasn’t just that. There was something about him that made it very hard to look away.

  “Sherbie, you’re not seriously falling for this, are you?” Xander fwapped me hard on the arm.

  “Um… no,” I said, rubbing my bicep. Truth be told, I was kind of falling for it just for that brief little minute.

  “But there was always some problem,” the vampire sighed. “Something that made people cause a fuss. Like when that horrible television show came out.” He lightly touched his forehead. “Oh, I can’t even bear to say its name. I have pushed if from my memory.” He tilted his head back to look at Aerony. “What was it called again?”

  “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” the beautiful woman said in her low, treacly voice.

  “Ah, yes. That is right.” The vampire gave a little shudder. “Suddenly, everyone thought it would be fun to stake a vampire. An entertainment, like fishing or laser tag. Tourists flocked to the major cities with sharpened sticks in their carry-on bags.”

  “Sounds good.” Xander grinned until I gave him an elbow to his solar plexus.

  Vincent ignored the comment. “We vampires discovered that it was easier to live in places that were not so high profile for our kind. Detroit, Baltimore, Erie. And I must admit…” He gave a little shrug. “I have always loved Cleveland. The people are so nice. Almost everyone is polite. No one chasing after you with the torches and the pitchforks.”

  “Gee, I’m glad you’re enjoying our city.” Xander sneered, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

  The vampire laughed. “It is my city more than yours. I have been here for much longer, and I will be here long after you are gone.” His glittering eyes met mine again, and I had to look away.

  “But it seems like you just appeared,” I said, still keeping my head turned. “I mean, I never saw anyone running around with bat necklaces before. And they’re really cool. I definitely would have noticed. What’s up with that?”

  “I would think it should be obvious to someone like you,” the vampire said, and against my will, I felt the shame of having fallen in his estimation. “It’s because we are not stupid. We only recruit once a generation. Last time it was… When?” He looked to Aerony again to goose his memory.

  Aerony’s eyes drifted toward the ceiling as she too was trying to remember. “Late eighties, early nineties? Anne Rice, I think.”

  “Oh, yes. She was very helpful to our cause. As is Stephenie Meyer today.”

  “Did you enthrall them?” I asked. “Entrance them into writing romantic books about vampires?”

  “Oh, no.” Vincent shook his head. “They did that all on their own. Humans have always found something fascinating about our kind.” Leaning back in his ornately carved chair, he smiled. “Are we to be blamed for taking advantage of the romantic pap created by you silly creatures?”

  “Well… yes,” I stammered. “Just because you see someone has a weakness doesn’t mean you have to exploit it.”

  Vincent and Aerony exchanged significant looks. “I guess you wouldn’t make such a good vampire after all,” he said, and they both laughed like he’d said something remarkably funny.

  “Like he cares.” Xander came to my defense. “Why would he want to be a waxy-skinned freak that takes advantage of teenage girls?”

&
nbsp; Vincent’s laughter was cut short, and he gave Xander a look of annoyance. “Careful, my darling. You do not want to provoke me too much.”

  Aerony too was not amused. She turned her golden brown eyes upon him. “Why are you here, anyway?”

  “We’re here for Rini,” Xander said. He glanced around the room. “I know she’s down here somewhere. We’re going to take her home.”

  “Rini?” Short Vincent glanced up at his second in command.

  “Irene,” Aerony told him. Then she leaned and whispered something in his ear.

  “Oh.” The vampire’s eyes took on a keen look of understanding. “I see.” He turned to one of the beefy boys. “Would you please bring Irene from the powder room? I believe she is convalescing there.” Then he turned his attentions back to us. “While we’re waiting, can I offer you some refreshment? Champagne, perhaps?” he suggested with a persuasive smile.

  Xander gave him a flat look. “We’ve had your champagne. It gave me a headache.” The vampire shrugged as if it was of no consequence.

  The beefy boy returned carrying two limp, dark-haired girls, one slung over each shoulder. He let them slither onto the rug in front of the vampire. “I wasn’t sure which one was Irene,” he said, his eyes cast down.

  Short Vincent waved a hand at him, obviously not concerned. “Turn them over. Let’s see who is so important that these two young men thought it would be a good idea to come down here and be so impudent.”

  The beefy boy did as he was told, and the girls were rolled over. He swiped at them a couple of times with his giant hands trying to get their hair out of their faces. One of the girls was definitely Rini, and the other was Lydia Sarducci.

  “Rini,” Xander exclaimed, stepping forward. I put out a hand to restrain him.

  “My darlings, is one of these girls your friend?” the vampire asked.

  “Yeah.” Xander went to point at Rini, but again I stopped him.

  “They’re both our friends,” I told Short Vincent. “We were actually looking for both of them.”