The Vampire Shrink kk-1

by Lynda Hilburn

  When he bent over to pick it up, his eyes met mine in the mirror. Surprise flashed across his face and he disappeared.

  No. I didn’t just see that. Bryce must’ve messed with my brain again. No more supernatural weirdness. I refuse to believe one more unbelievable thing.

  At that moment, Bryce dismissed the bearded vamp and turned to me. He closed his arm around my waist. I felt a feather’s breath of air against my face, then we were down on the main floor, in the middle of the party.

  I almost asked him how he managed to come and go without smashing into or landing on top of anyone, but caught the words before they left my mouth. I didn’t want him to mistake my nervous chatter for actual interest in anything about him.

  I craned my neck, searching the area for Brother Luther, and was relieved to come up empty. Since I hadn’t heard back from Lieutenant Bullock and Alan was incapacitated upstairs, I hoped the lunatic wouldn’t show up. According to what Bryce had said, there was already a full dose of misery on tap for the evening.

  Misery, and a ghost in the mirror.

  A velvet voice floated through my mind. ‘My love.’

  I started to say, ‘Dev—’

  ‘Speak to me silently, in your mind. Bryce is not very good at telepathy – he lacks discipline – but we do not want to draw his attention.’

  I didn’t waste any time questioning whether or not I could communicate telepathically. I sent him a bundle of thoughts, emotions and pictures, sharing everything I knew about Brother Luther, Bryce’s intentions, the ritual to trap him and someone named Lucifer.

  ‘I will not allow harm to come to you. Do not let anyone know you have spoken to me. I will be close by. No matter what.’

  I felt an odd emptiness and knew he was gone.

  Bryce’s mouth was moving, so I assumed he’d been talking to me. I focused on his words, hoping he’d provide more useful information.

  ‘—why he would be interested in someone like you.’

  ‘What?’ I blurted, annoyed that I’d missed the first part of his sentence. I held my hands over my ears, pretending I hadn’t heard him because of the loud music.

  He scowled and raised his voice. ‘Devereux knew when he brought me over that I’d be powerful. He also knew how I felt about him. I don’t care what he says – he’s as bisexual as the rest of us. I never did believe his song and dance about waiting for some soulmate or whatever. It’s bad enough he’s making a fool of himself over a woman, but a human woman is beyond belief.’ The evil grin slid across his face again. ‘He’ll have a long time to regret and reassess his choices. I might still take him back. If he begs. Let’s dance.’

  Before I could protest, or think of a way to avoid the close contact, Bryce had pulled me onto one of the table-free areas where couples were slow-dancing. He put his hands on my bottom and ground his lower body against mine.

  I struggled to free my arms from his rigid embrace. He didn’t even notice. He was busy studying my cleavage in the low-cut dress.

  ‘I might just have to sample the goods Devereux is so hot for before the night is over. You’ve got big tits. I like that.’ He reached a hand around, grabbed my breast, squeezed it and laughed. ‘More than a handful.’ He slid his hand from my breast to the hair resting beside it and lifted a curl. ‘Your hair is long. It’s almost as pretty as mine. Almost.’

  If he was waiting for me to compliment his hair, he’d be a rotted corpse in vampire hell before that happened.

  Thankfully, he didn’t react to my lack of response.

  He palmed my butt-cheeks again and moved us assertively through the crowd. He clearly fancied himself as the vampire Fred Astaire. As we circled the dance floor, I searched for familiar faces.

  I thought it might be easy to pick out the vampires in the sea of wannabes, but it turned out to be more complicated than I expected. The high quality of the costumes, makeup, wigs and fake fangs made identifying the real vampires more challenging. Everybody looked like an authentic bloodsucker.

  The longer we danced among them, however, the more I began to notice the familiar tingle in the solar plexus when I was in the vicinity of a vampire. Not only that, I found I was able to intuitively sense the level of the vampires’ powers. Some of them barely sent out enough buzz to charge a flashlight battery, while others came across like a mini-cattle prod to the midsection.

  My stomach muscles had repeatedly contracted since Bryce had kidnapped us out of my living room – fear tends to do that – so it was a good guess he belonged in the second category.

  Apollo had told me that a vampire was only as powerful as the one who made him, so if Devereux was Bryce’s maker, his abilities were probably beyond the norm. Or whatever passed for normal in vampire reality.

  Vampire. Reality. Two weeks ago I’d never have put those words in the same sentence.

  The slow song ended and the band launched into one of those World Beat compositions that combined African and Latin rhythms. The primitive drumbeats called to the celebrants and the dance floor filled.

  I had to admit, most vampires might be sick puppies, but they could dance.

  Bryce flipped me around so my bottom nestled against his groin. His arms encircled my waist, pulling me tighter against his apparently ever-present erection as he propelled us through the cavorting masses. He boogied, shifting his hips from side to side, forcing me to mimic his movements.

  Ever since we’d popped onto the main floor, I’d been so occupied with Bryce, spotting Brother Luther if he arrived, and trying to communicate with Devereux that I’d missed some interesting developments.

  I’d always thought most men were overly fond of their penises. They were always ready, willing and able to talk about them, show them to you, touch you with them or try to sneak them into any warm, wet, available place.

  Vampires had apparently elevated penis fixation to an art form. Sexual activity surrounded me on the dance floor, with penises being stroked by either the owner or a willing partner of either sex.

  I’d stumbled into a vampire porn video.

  Was that what being immortal meant? Bloodsucking and masturbation? Why was it only the male vampires? Did something weird happen to testosterone in the transformation? Was that the best they could do with eternal life – perpetual sexual adolescence?

  Devereux was right. Vampires are a completely separate species. And apparently most of them are insane.

  Lost in thought, I was startled when a woman screamed a few feet away from me. I was only able to hear it because the tone of her cry was higher-pitched than the music. I jerked my head in the direction of the scream and saw a woman pinned to the floor by a vampire whose fangs were embedded in her neck.

  I guessed she wasn’t a willing donor.

  None of the bystanders offered to help her. In fact, the attack only excited the strokers more.

  I struggled to get out of Bryce’s grasp and he clasped me tighter, rubbing himself against me and making soft moaning sounds. It was completely stupid of me to think I could do anything to make the vampire release his victim, but I absolutely couldn’t just stand there and watch. I stomped down hard on Bryce’s foot with the heel of my shoe and he relaxed his arms enough for me to slide down through them. I don’t think he let go because I hurt him but because I surprised him. He was obviously distracted.

  I leaped onto the back of the sucking vampire, who turned out to be a very large, muscular, smelly bloodsucker who flicked me off without even lifting his mouth from the woman’s neck.

  Laughter echoed around me as I fell to the floor on my back. A hand reached out of a full-length hooded robe to help me up and I caught a glimpse of a familiar face inside the hood. Even the clown-like vampire makeup couldn’t disguise Lieutenant Bullock’s distinctive features. I started to acknowledge her, but she stopped me with the slightest shake of her head.

  Bryce’s arm snaked around my waist again and he jerked me up off my feet, holding my back against his chest. ‘Ordinarily I’d punish you f
or your absurd actions, but I still need you for a little while longer. You’re lucky Lucifer wants you. Playtime’s over. Let’s go back upstairs.’

  The woman on the floor had stopped screaming and was clearly dead.

  The crowd actually applauded.

  Vampires suck. In more ways than one.

  I managed to catch Lieutenant Bullock’s eyes and shifted mine in the direction of the high balcony, showing her where we were going. She replied with an almost invisible nod, lowered the hood over her face and merged into the crowd.

  Just before Bryce popped us out, I caught a glimpse of several robed figures heading towards a doorway.

  The music room had been transformed into the Church of Satan, or the setting for a Black Sabbath concert, something that required lots of black draperies, upside-down crosses and pictures of ugly guys with horns. A large circle containing an inverted pentagram had been drawn in the centre of the room and the massive gemstones placed in presumably meaningful positions. Some of the mirrors were now decorated with elaborate symbols and the light from the chandeliers had been replaced by the soft, eerie glow of black candles.

  When we materialised in the room, Raleigh scurried over to Bryce. He frowned as he noted that Bryce was holding me off the ground, tight to his chest, and that one of his hands had moved from my waist to my breast. Raleigh shot me a dirty look and snarled, showing his pointy fangs.

  Jealousy?

  I knew I should be terrified, but instead I felt numb. After so much horror my brain had simply shut down.

  Bryce noticed and enjoyed Raleigh’s reaction. He laughed out loud and removed his arms from around me and I fell in a heap on the floor. Raleigh clutched Bryce’s hand like a child.

  It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the dim light, but I was finally able to make out the shapes in the corner. Ronald was cradling Midnight in his arms and Alan was sprawled next to them, still as a corpse.

  I hadn’t allowed myself to consider the possibility that Alan was actually dead, but now that it had occurred to me, I had to know. I started crawling in his direction.

  I’d just reached him, picked up his wrist and detected a light pulse when the familiar limb closed around me again. Bryce held me under his arm like a rolled-up newspaper.

  ‘Playing Florence Nightingale, Dr Knight? Trying to save the handsome FBI agent? My, my – how many men are you servicing these days? But you mustn’t rattle the blood-sacks. I need at least one of them for the ritual. Maybe two.’

  ‘What are you talking about? What do you need for the ritual?’

  ‘Blood.’

  ‘Do you mean you need to drink blood?’

  ‘You really are a tedious human. Of course I need to drink blood. But this blood’s for the ritual. It’s the final step – we’re going to smear it all over the circle. Quite a waste of food, if you ask me, but the wizard geniuses say it’s necessary. It will be worth it to have Devereux under my power. Finally, after all those centuries, he’ll be forced to do my bidding, in every possible way.’

  He carried me near the circle and set me on my feet. Then he positioned himself in front of me, shoved one of his hands down the front of my dress and roughly grabbed a breast again. ‘You didn’t answer my question, Florence. How many men are you servicing?’

  His grip on the tender flesh hurt, but I didn’t want him to know that. I breathed in slowly through my nose, trying to use a relaxation technique to lessen my awareness of the pain. ‘None of your business.’

  He squeezed harder and I yelped. It hurt like a mammogram times a thousand, and he wasn’t even trying. My entire breast was going to be black and blue. If he didn’t rip it off. Apparently the protective necklace only worked if it was touched directly. What kind of magic talisman was that?

  Smirking, he released his hold, pulled his hand out of my dress and let me fall to the floor as my knees gave out. Standing over me, he unbuttoned his trousers and slid down the zipper of his fly. Mercifully, the silence that had fallen around us was suddenly shattered by an extremely loud pop, and Brother Luther appeared.

  CHAPTER 26

  Bryce physically jumped back a few inches, visibly startled. ‘Lucifer!’

  Lucifer? This isn’t Brother Luther? Then who’s Brother Luther?

  The tall, bald vampire growled, his discoloured fangs bared. He stepped over me and stalked towards Bryce, whose eyes had gone wide. It didn’t take a psychologist to figure out that Bryce was afraid of the foul-smelling creature backing him into a corner.

  ‘Lucifer, I wasn’t really going to do her.’ Bryce’s voice quivered. ‘I was saving her for you, just as we agreed.’

  Lucifer picked Bryce up by his throat, piercing his neck with long, filthy fingernails. Bryce struggled uselessly as rivulets of blood trailed down his neck and Lucifer licked them with his long tongue.

  Bryce screamed, ‘Dammit, Raleigh! The song! Play the song!’

  Raleigh sprinted over to a boombox propped on a chair. He pressed a button and Brahms’s ‘Lullaby’ floated softly from the speakers.

  Lucifer continued to suck on the wounds on Bryce’s neck.

  ‘Crank it up!’ Bryce yelled.

  Raleigh turned the music up eardrum-shatteringly loud and Lucifer pulled back, dropped his hand from Bryce’s neck and let him fall to the floor. He shuffled over to the boombox and sat in front of it, swaying to the music, humming tonelessly.

  Bryce leaped to his feet, massaging his neck.

  Raleigh rushed to him. ‘I did good, didn’t I, Master?’

  Bryce kicked the small man in the stomach, causing him to double over.

  ‘You almost fucking got me killed, you moron. You should’ve started the damn CD the moment Bizarro-Man showed up. You know that’s the only way I can control him, otherwise he goes fucking ballistic.’

  Raleigh, who wasn’t even as tall as Bryce’s waist, hugged him. ‘I’m sorry, Master. Don’t punish me!’

  Bryce hesitated for a few seconds, appearing to consider the possibilities in the location of Raleigh’s face, then peeled the mini-vampire off his body.

  I’d got to my feet during the chaos and retreated behind a spectacular mahogany grand piano. I studied the bald vampire who’d inexplicably ceased his rampage and sat hypnotised in front of the CD player.

  Shit! Lucifer’s affected by the music. Not only affected, but manipulated, controlled. I’ve never seen a reaction that strong before. He transformed from being a dangerous predator into an almost childlike state. I never would’ve suspected. This is one for the psych journals. If they believed in vampires, that is.

  My silent diagnostic session was abruptly interrupted.

  Bryce scanned the room, shoved Raleigh out of his way and quickly found me. He stalked over, grabbed my upper arm forcefully enough to leave bruises and pulled me to the circle. The pain of his fingers burrowing knifelike into my arm was so intense I gasped, struggling to catch my breath.

  He bellowed, ‘That’s enough bullshit. On with the show.’

  Several vampires had been busy placing objects inside the circle and drawing geometric shapes around the outside. Others were working in a different part of the room, blending the contents of small bottles into a silver cauldron that bubbled over a fire. All of them came to attention at Bryce’s command.

  I hadn’t noticed before that each wore a black robe. Vampire monks? Vampire devil worshippers?

  Lucifer swayed gently, oblivious.

  Except for one of the bearded vampires, who scooped thick liquid from the cauldron into a black cup, everyone else assumed their places in the circle and began chanting.

  The sound of the chant was different from what I’d experienced with Devereux. That had been melodic. This was more like a deep rumbling sound. It reminded me of a performance I’d attended by a group of Buddhist throat singers. They had the ability, through years of training and practise, to sing two, three or four distinct low tones at the same time, a technique they used for meditation and trance induction. It wa
s eerie and powerful. These guys were doing the same thing, and it sent chills through me, just like it had at the concert.

  The other bearded vampire walked the circle, holding a sword straight up over his head. The blade sparkled in the candlelight. He mumbled words under his breath and paused at regular intervals to lower the sword’s tip to the floor and lift it up again.

  He came to a stop at the point nearest to where I waited with Bryce, whose claw-fingers were still cutting off the circulation in my arm. Using the sword, the vampire made a downwards swipe, and reached his hand through an invisible slash in an imaginary entryway, pretending to hold something open.

  Bryce dragged me through. The growling chant rose in intensity.

  If I hadn’t participated in the Wiccan coven’s ritual years ago, I’d have been surprised by the energetic change I experienced inside the circle. The air felt thicker, as if it exerted more pressure on my skin. My body seemed to move in slowmotion and candyfloss filled my head.

  Bryce released me with a push and I crumbled onto the floor.

  Again.

  Not only were my arm and breast throbbing, but my hip was screaming. I must have fallen on it earlier. I kicked off the only shoe that had made it into the circle and stood.

  Bryce yelled to Raleigh, ‘When I tell you, turn off the music.’ He studied me, amused. ‘I’m going to summon your blond vampire lover now. Fix your hair – you’re a mess!’

  I rubbed my arm and gave him a blank stare.

  He can’t really force Devereux to appear, can he? He’s acting very smug and arrogant, even more so than usual. What if all these vampires together have more power than Devereux?

  Bryce strutted over to the invisible opening where the bearded alchemist who’d been stirring the foul-smelling brew at the table handed him the black cup. Bryce muttered something that sounded like strings of vowels and drank whatever was in the cup.

  He grimaced, and bellowed, ‘Devereux! Come to me!’