by J. K Harper
"But I'm going to need a drink for this," she said, walking to the small wet bar on the other side of the room. "Shot of whiskey?"
“Please,” he said. “We might need a couple.”
She grabbed the entire bottle and two glasses before turning towards him. Gabe was staring up at the industrial fixtures in the ceiling, concentrating on the far wall.
“What is that?” he asked, pointing in the direction of the darkest corner.
The hairs on Charlotte’s neck suddenly stood up. The vampire in her knew exactly what it was because it takes one to know one.
“Get down!” she screamed as the dark shadow started moving towards them. Charlotte rolled towards the metal frame of her bed and yanked at one of the support bars. What looked like an ordinary piece of metal was actually a scabbard that held a Russian shashka sword. She reached for another and pulled out a kindjal dagger. As the shadow swooped closer, the soft lighting revealed its features. This vampire was hideous and distorted. Death had not been easy, and it showed on its face. Charlotte stabbed at its throat as it flew overhead, making enough contact to cover the kindjal with blood. Her own fangs started extending from the sight of it.
"Gabe?" she called out as she turned around. He was nowhere to be found. The vampire swooped back for a second pass, but this time, something else met it mid-air. Charlotte saw fur and heard a growl before she realized a large, gray wolf was now leaping to take down the vampire. As the creatures collided and fell to the ground, Charlotte recognized the scent of the wolf. Gabe.
While the fanged duo fought in front of her, Charlotte waited for the most opportune time to strike. As the wolf grabbed the invader's arm and spun it around, Charlotte swung the shashka, decapitating the creature with one fell swoop. The body dropped immediately while the head rolled several feet away. She walked to both parts, making sure they were no longer moving.
“You should have told me you were a vampire,” Gabe’s voice called out from behind her.
“Ring, ring. Pot calling Kettle. You’ve got some fangs of your own," Charlotte said, leaning in to examine the head with her foot.
“I was about to tell you when this happened, remember?”
“Life was easier when you just thought I was bisexual,” she said as she stared down at her feet.
“Huh?”
She motioned for him to come over. “Congratulations, Detective Sandoval. You just found Gina Cagliotti.”
He turned white as he bent down to examine the head. Now that she was dead for what was technically the second time, her appearance had faded back to human.
“How can she look like this now? That thing was hideous.”
“What do you expect? Vampire venom is like Miracle-Gro for character flaws. The ugly comes out until you learn to control it.”
“Did you do this?”
“What? Fuck no! I have zero kills. Zero!”
“Then who?”
“Someone really fucking stupid,” she said, collapsing on the side of the bed. “This could start a war. I hope to God it was an accident.”
“Why is your bed made of knives?”
“Why is yours NOT made of knives? I guarantee you’d sleep better.”
“I should call for an ambulance.”
“You can’t. How would you explain this?”
“Fuck. What do you suggest?”
“Cremation.”
“But her parents won’t get anything back.”
“Look at her. They can’t get this back. Are you good with sewing heads back on bodies?”
“That would never work.”
“Exactly. Remember, Gina was already dead. Anything that happens to her from here on out is technically only improper disposal of a corpse. This isn’t my first rodeo,” she explained.
“I thought you said zero kills.”
“I have witnessed the aftermath,” she said while dragging the comforter off the bed and onto the floor. “Vampires still kill lots of bad guys. No one misses them. You should be thanking us for improving the crime statistics.”
Gabe froze in his tracks, moving his gaze between Charlotte and the body. She could see the horror and confusion in his eyes.
“You’re a cop. This goes against your moral code. I get it. But you can’t get in my way.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“If this isn’t for you, just go. I’ll figure out what I can on my end.”
Gabe hesitated before nodding quietly and backing out of the room.
She tried not to watch him exit, but failed. I can't believe he’s leaving. Why did the sex have to be so good? She shook her fists at the sky. “Fuck my life!”
Charlotte grabbed a large laundry cart from the basement and buried Gina under the linens. She rolled the cart into the tunnel and called an emergency meeting with Julian and her father. They were both in Frederick’s sunroom tending to his orchids when Charlotte arrived.
“Someone has killed and infected an innocent one.”
Julian looked incredulous and shook his head. “This is how rumors start, Sissy Poo.”
“What proof do you have?” Frederick asked without looking away from his plants.
“The decapitated body now lounging in a laundry cart downstairs should be sufficient proof, no?”
Frederick dropped his spray bottle and stood in front of her. “What? Who?”
“The missing girl everyone’s been searching for. Gina Cagliotti.”
“This can’t be. Are you sure she was an innocent one? Did she have a history?”
"Not that Detective Sandoval knows of, but aren't the coven superiors supposed to vote on all justified kills?
“They are, but it doesn’t prevent someone from going rogue. Who used a sword on her?”
Charlotte held up her hand. "I had no choice."
“Why would she come after you?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.”
Julian, who had been sitting quietly, stood up and started pacing as he spoke. “How well do you know this detective?”
“He had nothing to do with it.”
“Ahh, so you’ve fucked him already. You’re so easy to read, Sissy Poo.”
“You’ll just have to trust me and my judgment. But you have been acting a little odd, Julian. Maybe it was you?”
“I won’t have talk like that in my house,” Frederick scolded.
“Why do you always come to his rescue? He’s fully grown.”
“Don’t I come to your rescue as well?”
Charlotte threw her hands up in confusion. “I never get into trouble.”
“Maybe that’s your problem,” Julian said with a smirk. “What are you saving it for?”
“That’s enough!” Frederick scolded.
"She's not serious, Dad. Charlotte knows I'm a lover, not a fighter."
“Enough out of both of you,” he added. “She disappeared on Halloween, correct?”
Charlotte and Julian both nodded.
"Were members from other covens in O-Negative that night?"
“Several,” Charlotte said, furrowing her brow. The video showed a few of the Ballantines, Duncans, Riccis...”
“Any Russian crews?” Julian asked. “They get a little out of hand when they drink. Maybe this was an accident.”
"Not that I can recall. I can skim the footage again.” Charlotte sighed as she remembered the tapes were in Sandoval’s possession.
“No need to sigh, Sissy Poo. This will all get sorted out.”
"In the meantime, you two watch your backs,” Frederick ordered. “I'll let the superiors know what's going on, and the cleaning crew will take care of the girl." Frederick held his arms out, encouraging Charlotte and Julian to join him for a group hug. “Forever is a long time without family,” he said squeezing them closer.
“Forever is a long time ... period,” Julian teased.
“I better go tell Aunt Agnes,” Charlotte said as the hug loosened.
“Just knock loudly first,” Julia
n cautioned. “You can’t unsee everything.”
Chapter 5
While Charlotte went to her Aunt’s, Julian had one thing running through his brain. Those fucking Duncans. As soon as Charlotte mentioned the name, he was ready to pay them a visit. Unlike his sister, Julian was more obvious with his weapons, choosing to hang his shashka directly over the fireplace. He removed the sword and placed it in a custom-made duffle bag as the NYPD normally frowned on carrying weapons in public. He strolled along the streets, whistling as he took in the sights and sounds of the city.
When he reached the Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood, Julian slowed his gait. He moved from shadow to shadow, searching for any sign of the Duncans. Their corner store was closed for the night, and the apartment above it showed zero activity. Julian continued walking towards the Hudson River where the Duncan family had a mechanic's shop and rundown warehouse on one of the industrial blocks.
It was a stark contrast from the Van Kampen lifestyle he was used to. They were a little too "working class" for Julian's taste. Their entire lineage had only started about 150 years ago, making them preschoolers in vampire years. The other covens hadn't quite accepted them with open arms, and if they were now killing the innocent ones, there would be hell to pay.
Julian walked close to the buildings in case anyone was standing watch on the upper floors. He could feel the music thumping from the auto body shop as he leaned against the metal door. His heart beat faster as he tried the door handle. Locked. He scanned the side of the building for another way in, focusing on a small, broken window at ground level. He waited until the bass from the music increased during a song and used the tip of his motorcycle boot to kick in the rest of the window.
The place was a mess. Not a single car waited for repair. Instead, the place was full of illegal gambling machines and the parts necessary to keep them going. He continued walking towards a crack of light coming from under a door near the stairway. As he grew closer, the sound of moaning rose above the music. He couldn't tell if it was pleasure or pain, only that one voice was male, and one was female.
Julian removed the sword from his bag and tried the doorknob with his free hand. It opened without effort, leading him to a room with a television and dirty couch. Liquor bottles, women's heels, and torn undergarments littered about the space. The filthy carpet cushioned his steps as he crept along to the next open doorway and peered inside.
He was hurting her. Those were not moans of pleasure. The woman was strapped face down onto what appeared to be a weight bench. The placement of several pillows piled under her brought the woman's hips up to an easier angle for anyone standing behind her. The naked male was slamming her hard, grunting with each pass and dripping his sweat onto her body beneath him. A stereo system with oversized speakers blasted music nearby.
Julian gripped the sword tightly and snuck forward as he waited for the man’s hips to pull back. He swung with all his might, landing a hard blow. The man screamed and flipped around ready to fight.
“You should see the look on your face,” Julian said as he fell back laughing.
“Asshole, you could have killed me.”
Julian held up his sword to show the jeweled scabbard still protecting the blade. "Hardly." He walked around examining the room before shutting off the stereo. "You should install a security system," he said as he made himself comfortable in an empty chair.
“No one comes down here.”
“You never know, but I’m more concerned with who’s getting out. Have you taken a headcount lately? You’re missing one.”
“Oh fuck. Who?”
"That cute blonde, Gina something or other?"
“Awww, what a waste. Amazing ass on that one.”
“Speaking of ass,” he said as he walked toward the woman. “Who do we have here?” He walked around to the front of the bench and bent down to see her face. “Brandi! Is that you?”
"I want to go home," she said with a feeble voice.
“You are home now." He wiped a tear from her cheek as she shook her head. "You don't like us? Don't worry, it will get better." He stood back and examined the attachments holding her to the bench. “Colin, these are too tight,” he said, tugging on one of the straps.
“I’m not cutting off her circulation.”
"Too tight for your pleasure," he clarified. "I'm not worried about her. You want a little leeway so they can move around and fight you a little. Is she on schedule for tonight?”
“I wasn’t planning on it, but you’re the boss.”
“Let me show you,” Julian said, motioning for Colin to come closer. “Normally I flip them over when it’s time. You want them to see your face and you theirs so you get the full experience of their fear.” He walked around Brandi as if she were a chalkboard and he was a coach describing simple plays to his team. “Have you ever gone to a county fair, Colin?”
“Yeah, out in Jersey once. I tried the fried Twinkies.”
“Uh, good for you,” Julian said. “Next time check out the livestock auction.” He continued speaking as he added slack to the straps on Brandi’s legs. “They will tell you to let the animal rest before butchering as the stress will affect the meat and ruin the quality and taste.” Julian smacked Brandi’s ass several times and motioned for Colin to help flip her over. “I disagree with their recommendation,” he said, standing back to admire his handiwork. “I think terror adds that bit of umami flavor our palates find so pleasing.” He knelt down next to Brandi and stroked her face. “Start fucking her again,” he ordered.
"I'm not used to an audience," Colin said as he tried stroking himself to attention. "You're giving me performance anxiety." It took him a few moments to get going, but once inside her, he wouldn't have noticed a crowd of thousands around him.
“Atta boy, Colin,” Julian clapped with encouragement. “Now I want you to feel the difference.” He turned Brandi’s face towards his and slowly revealed his fangs, hissing as saliva dripped from his mouth.
Her face contorted in horror as a blood-curdling scream escaped her mouth. She fought against the straps, kicking her legs in every direction. Colin swatted her legs away as he continued his assault and moaned even louder.
“Fuck yeah. Fight me, bitch.”
Julian widened his bite and drew closer to her in painfully slow increments. Her body pressed against the straps as she tried to curl in on herself for protection. When his fangs were finally in her neck, her body trembled uncontrollably.
“I feel her energy! It’s mine!” Colin shouted. “Die on my cock!”
“Don’t kill her, Colin,” Julian said as he stood up and wiped his mouth. “It’s too hard to get the blood down their throats when they’re dead. Taste her now while she still has some fight left.”
Colin remained inside her while he reached down and lifted up one of her legs. He clamped his fangs down on her calf and growled as he fed.
“Not too much, Colin. Colin!” Julian realized he wasn’t being heard and worked quickly to infect her. “If we kill them all, we won’t have the numbers we need.” He bit into his own wrist until a light stream of his blood trickled down.
Brandi’s eyes were still open as she stared up at the ceiling. A soft whimper escaped her lips as she continued to say, “Home. Home.”
Julian grabbed at her mouth with one hand and squeezed to force a larger opening. He had to match the motion of his dripping wrist with the constant movement of Colin's hips that sent Brandi's head moving back and forth with each thrust.
“Swallow, Brandi. This will make it better. There’s a good girl.”
Colin beat his chest and yelled at the ceiling when he finally climaxed inside her. He dropped her leg like a rag doll and took a few steps back to catch his breath. A side door flew open as Patrick and Gavin Duncan rushed into the room.
“What the fuck was that yelling about?” Patrick asked.
“Umami,” Colin said, pointing at Brandi’s motionless body.
“We thought someone was
burning you at the stake,” Gavin added.
"That might happen if you fools can't keep the girls under control. You lost one," Julian said as he squeezed a few more drops of his blood into Brandi's mouth. "Let's put her with the others. No more mistakes, guys."
"What exactly are we waiting for?" Patrick asked as he started undoing the straps. "Why not initiate the attack now?"
“The larger the army, the more suffering we bring. Sissy Poo won’t know what hit her.”
“Who?”
“The others,” he clarified. “The superiors who’ve forgotten their very nature. We don’t owe them or the innocent ones our submissiveness. Like Colin, you will find that pain is delicious.”
“Delicious,” Colin confirmed as he picked Brandi up and threw her over his shoulder. “Follow me, Julian. I’ll show you where we have the others.”
Patrick and Gavin stayed behind, surveying the scene. “This guy is nuts,” Gavin whispered. “Do you think this happens when you’ve fed on too many criminals? Will it happen to us?”
“You forget he drained his own mother when he was a teenager. Diet has nothing to do with it. He is certifiably fucked up.”
“Then why are we helping him?” Patrick asked.
"He's going to do this with or without us, and I'd prefer to be on his good side. Wouldn't you?"
“I guess so,” Patrick said, sighing loudly. “But it sure doesn’t feel very good.”
Colin carried Brandi’s body down a long, dark corridor with several doors on either side. “We’re only keeping four per room,” Colin explained. “Overcrowding will make it too unsanitary.” He opened the last room on the left and ushered Julian inside. Colin tossed Brandi onto an empty bed and shackled her. The metal cuffs around the ankles linked to a chain that hooked to the wall behind the mattress. "I must not have tightened everything after I brought the blonde out. It won't happen again."
"I know it won't," Julian said as he focused on the whimpering sounds coming from the corner. He took a step closer towards the two Asian girls trying to huddle together. Their fanged Hello Kitty T-shirts showed stains from the mascara they had cried off. "Konnichiwa," Julian sang out as he knelt down. "Why don't you step out for a bit, Colin? I’m suddenly craving Japanese.”