My kind of evil crowd. Used to be, anyway.
Julia was likely expecting me, but if Vanderhorst showed up, they would have recognized him as Freddy or as Michael. Their faces are well known. And if he started asking questions, they would have told him they’d seen Julia in the back room, playing pool or doing shots, which is code for “We’re going to dump you in the dungeon.” Really, it is just a big pit with a trapdoor. I used to find it amusing to watch ignorant vampires or humans wander into the establishment and be told there was a party happening back there. Then boom. Trapdoor!
“I will start my search there. How far away are your other men?” I ask Freddy.
“Another hour.”
I cannot wait that long. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“Why are you doing this?” Freddy asks. “You couldn’t care less about my brother.”
“Why does it matter if the result is he stays alive?”
“How do I know you’re not just trying to hunt him down so you can kill him yourself? We all know you’d do anything to get my sister-in-law.”
See. This is what I was talking about, friends. No matter what I do, I will never be allowed to change my spots. The vampire world wants me to play this role because it makes them feel like “good vampires.” They can point to me and say, Bad. Bad!
I do not wish to argue with Freddy, and I do not have time to convince him of my true motives. “I plan to save your brother so he will owe me a favor. And then I will force him to give me ten red horses. For my wedding. With his wife,” I lie.
“I knew it.”
“Yes, well, do you want me to save him or not?”
“Yes, but this isn’t over. And no, you cannot have Miriam. My brother and she belong together. You belong with…with…I don’t know what you belong with, but it isn’t her.”
He is right. I belong with a woman who is unincumbered by public opinion of me. I belong with someone who not only sees me for who I am, but sees my potential. I belong with…Liza!
Wait. No. That doesn’t feel right. Liza is beautiful and independent. I enjoy how she teaches me new things. I appreciate her more than words can say. However, when I think of Liza, it is as a friend. I trust and respect her.
But do I want to hold an all-night lovemaking session with her? No.
Do I want to sniff her hair every day for the rest of my life? No.
Do I want to cover her in cream cheese and roll her in coconut shavings? No.
But I sure the hell would like to with Brandi. Make a little flambé in the sheets, if you know what I mean.
“Let us discuss this matter later,” I say. “At the moment, your idiot guards have made a grave error and have likely fallen into the same trap as your brother. I must go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I have to order a ride from one of those apps to get to the Randy Unicorn across town in a neighborhood frequented by immortals. Dangerous, sadistic immortals. Just like I used to be.
Fun fact, I once spent so much time here that Sin City was almost renamed Nice City. I would rent a huge penthouse and invite vampires from all over to come play. My parties were legendary, nothing off-limits—whips, chains, chocolate chip cookies. Years later, I would use their debauchery against them when I required a favor. Remember how you dressed up as a squirrel and licked everyone’s nuts? The photos I took came in handy.
My ride drops me in front of the bar. It is evening, the streetlamps casting a dark purple hue over everything and—
Oh, wait. That’s just my new vampire eyes. Funny, I never imagined it would feel strange being a vampire again. And a weak one at that. Yes, I can probably open a jar of pickles without a problem, but I move about as fast as a house cat. Faster than a human, but not so impressive for a vampire.
It’s going to take a miracle to convince anyone I am still Mr. Nice, a force to be reckoned with.
I knock on the rainbow-painted door of the Randy Unicorn, and after a few moments, it pops open. They inspect everyone through a camera mounted above.
“Mr. Nice, you—you’ve returned,” says the short man with a long red beard. His name is Pike. “You look so different.” He leans forward and sniffs me. “You are a vampire again!”
“Jesss…back and better zan ever!” I say in my old crazy accent.
“Well, you look, you look amazing.” Pike eyes me in my jeans and T-shirt.
I know Pike swings both ways—really all ways, with anything that breathes and some things that don’t—however, I have no time for kink tonight.
“Zank you, my friend!”
“Come in. Let’s get you a drink.” He heads through a set of double doors and enters the inner sanctum of the bar, which looks just like one would imagine for an evil vampire bar. Dimmed lighting, dark walls, dark floors, and a Ping-Pong table. There is nothing randy about this place nor sparkly and unicorn-esque.
“I could use a Nice Tea,” I say, following behind Pike, noting the establishment is about halfway full. The other vampire patrons, seated around the room, give me side glances, but without my cape, red frilly lace shirt, and leather pants, I doubt they’ll recognize me unless they get a good look at my face or hear my voice.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” says Pike. “We only have O-negative snack bags. Or there’s a guy in the closet I’m serving for cocktail hour. He’s a serial killer. Extra-spicy. Twenty bucks per suck, but for you, on the house.” Pike goes behind the bar.
I belly up in front of him. “Actually, zi Nice has zi favor to ask. I am here to take my vengeance on that vile Vanderhorstssts! Have you seen him?”
Pike’s eyes light up. “Oh. That sounds exciting. But no. He hasn’t been here.”
“No…?” I lean forward, eyeing him suspiciously.
“No.” Pike steps back. “I swear.”
“If choo are lying, I will reep off your eyelashes and shove them up your nose!” Wait, that did not sound very scary or Mr. Nice-ish. “And I will pluck off one of your testicles and feed it to your other testicle!” There. Better.
Pike holds up his hands. “I would never lie to you, Mr. Nice. Not after what you did to Larry the last time you came here.”
Ah…Larry. He was the sort of vampire who enjoyed nibbling on people in a coma. Who does that? I mean, I have done evil things, but there has to be a line. Nibbling on the comatose is simply depraved. Anyway, Larry once swiped my drink from the counter when I had my head turned, and then lied about it. I tore off his manhood and stapled it to his forehead. Well, really I used darts from the board over there on the wall. No stapler handy at the time. I told him if he ever removed it, I would rip out his tongue and staple it where his cock used to be.
I turn my head toward the man sitting in the corner with a decade-old shriveled sausage skewered on his forehead. “Nice to see choo again, Larry!” I say cheerily.
Larry scowls and goes back to his card game with another man.
“Not very friendly,” I say. “It is as if he holds a grudge.” I sigh for effect. “Veel, if you haven’t seen Vanderhorstsst, how about my old friend, zi fabulous miss Julia? I hear she might be setting up a new houzz of pleasure, and I am in zi mood for a tensome.”
“Julia was here a few days ago, but she said she was just passing through. She came in looking for a place to stay for the night—her and her inventory.” Pike winks.
So Julia was traveling with humans. I must follow her trail and see where it leads me. “Where did she stay?” I ask.
“What happened to your accent?”
Crap. I dropped it by accident.
I scramble for an absurd excuse that fits Mr. Nice. “This is my new accent.” I wave my hands in front of my face like a magician doing an amazing trick. “I decided to change it. Right now. Here at your bar. It is a great honor for you to witness my transformation. Now where did she go?” I say flatly.
“Um, um…I think she landed at Old Man Connelly’s place.”
Old Man Connelly, huh? Connelly is probably one of the oldest hu
mans to ever be turned. He was in his eighties. The man still lives on the ranch he owned a hundred years ago. How humans haven’t caught on to him is beyond me.
I am about to take my leave when I hear cheering in the back room.
“Who’s in the fun pit?” I ask.
“Just some human who wandered in. No one special.”
“And what torture are we using today?” I ask.
“Snakes.”
“I love a good snake pit.” I drop my smile. “I want to see.” Mostly, I don’t trust Pike or any other vampire. We are not honest folk.
Pike’s eyes shift away from my face. “Sorry, sir, it’s a private event today. A, uh, birthday party.”
He is lying to me.
I reach across the bar, pull Pike’s body over the counter, throw him on the floor, and rip off his ear. I yell into the bloody piece of flesh, “Try again!”
Pike whimpers in agony, and I cannot lie; it feels marvelous to be cruel. I missed the exhilaration of making others fear me.
“Testing. One! Two! Three! Now tell the Nice who is back there, or you will be joining Larry with the penis art on your face.” I reach for the zipper of Pike’s pants.
“Don’t hurt me, Nice.”
“I will not hurt you nice. I will hurt you bad…” I say in an ominous tone.
“It’s Vanderhorst. He’s back there,” Pike whimpers.
I knew it! But what about Liza? “Who else?”
“Just a bunch of customers. And Julia. She’s auctioning off his blood.”
I exhale sharply. This is not good. Vanderhorst is over four hundred years old. Any vampire who drinks his blood will instantly be stronger and faster than most. If they’ve been handing out Vanderhorst shots back there, it’s going to make his rescue more difficult. I’ll be outfanged.
“I’m not finished with you.” I give Pike a kick in his side and toss him over my shoulder. I shove him in the closet with his serial killer appetizer, locking the door. “Anyone touches him and their ears will be next.” No one in the establishment moves a muscle.
I march through the black curtains into the back room, which is basically a twenty-by-twenty room with two pool tables. The trapdoor between them is covered with a ratty Persian rug, and Vanderhorst is sitting on top of it, tied to a chair. A man in the corner has his hand on the release button.
I bet there is something very hideous and painful awaiting him down in that pit. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be sitting so still.
Vanderhorst’s dark eyes meet mine and go wide with panic. He probably thinks I’m here to partake in his demise.
“Nice, what the fuck are you doing here?” Julia scowls.
Before I answer, I survey the room. There are eleven other vampires, who look like they belong to that Night Riders motorcycle gang, best known for their love of softball. They host the annual vampire championship. But do not let that fool you. These are not nice men. They’re large, they’re hairy, and they enjoy a good disembowelment.
My mind races for the best way to subdue this room of callous vampires. I got nothing. Time to wing it. “No, Julia. The proper question is what are you doing here? With him?” I snarl at Vanderhorst.
“What happened to your accent?”
“Nice two-point-oh does not have time for accents. Also, I am much too interesting already, and it is unfair to the other vampires. Now answer my question.” I narrow my eyes.
“Well, as you might be aware, someone screwed up my business back in Texas. So here I am in Vegas, checking out a few possible new locations to reopen, when I get a call from Pike, asking if I’d like to help him make a few extra bucks selling off a fresh catch.” She smiles. “And now you showed up! It’s my lucky day.” Her smile melts away. “You still owe me a house.”
“And you shall have it. Whichever one you want, but Vanderhorst is mine…” I growl. “Now, everyone leave before I rip out your livers and stuff them with savory herbs.” That was a terrible threat. What is the matter with me? “Then feed them to pigs while I snack on the rest of you, starting with your nipples.” Better.
The men stare, but do not move, so I add, “In case you haven’t noticed, I am no longer human. The cure doesn’t work on powerful vampires like me. Ancient. Deadly. And filled with creative ways to dice up your male parts.”
The men exchange glances and zip from the room, leaving me alone with Julia. Ha. My old tricks still work!
“Untie him,” I say.
Julia steps in front of Vanderhorst and crosses her arms. “Why would I do that?”
“Because he and I have a score to settle.”
Julia laughs. “No way. Freddy Vanderhorst is mine. Besides, you don’t need to free him to settle up.” She looks at Michael. “What better way to get revenge than to dust him? After we sell off his blood. Which is delicious, by the way.”
Crap. Julia drank him? That means she is about a hundred times stronger than me. I am average strength and speed now, since Liza sired me. Luckily, Julia does not know that.
I must avoid a physical confrontation so she does not find out. Or…I could…
“That is where you are wrong, woman. This is not the king’s brother. Freddy is currently sitting on the throne and has for over five years.”
“What?” Her red eyebrows arch.
I nod. “Exactly. And this man is my nemesis, Michael Vanderhorst.” I shake my head and walk over, circling him like a shark. “He stole the love of my life, he stole my power, and he turned me into an infant.” Not entirely true. I drank too much of the cure. “Unfortunately for him, he let me live, and now I am back.” I grab the top of his head and pull his neck to one side.
“What are you doing, Nice?” Vanderhorst snarls.
I am doing the only thing I can to even the playing field with Julia. I bite down and taste the coppery sweet syrup on my tongue.
“Sonof—gahh!” Vanderhorst cries out, jerking around in his chair.
I release him, feeling his blood flow through me, mingling with my own and transforming me into something far more powerful.
Now I’m back. I stare at my hand and flex my strong fist.
“You’re right,” says Vanderhorst. “I should have killed you. When I found you in the coat closet at headquarters, crying and hungry, I should have let you starve. Because I always knew you were a loser. A sad, deceitful joke of a vampire who acted like a fool. Miriam never loved you and never could because you’re weak, you’re an idiot, and no one respects you. They never have.”
All lies, and he knows it. He used to nearly wet himself when I walked into a room. Still, the words coming from his mouth set off a chain reaction. Memories. Most of them from when I swore to destroy him.
I almost succeeded.
At one point, I had his woman; I framed him for treason and made him into an outlaw. He lost everything and had to live on the run, hunted by every other vampire out there. We caught him, of course. And I got within an inch of having him executed. My plan would have worked if it weren’t for Miriam. She was supposed to testify against him after his apprehension. She chose to put her faith in him instead.
I snarl down at Michael Vanderhorst. The pain this man caused me, the humiliation. All because I stepped up and protected his woman when he failed. He should be thanking me, not ridiculing me.
“Do it,” Julia says. “Kill him. Then we’ll tell the world that his brother sits on the throne and have him removed. The people will want a new ruler, someone ruthless and cutthroat. They’ll want you.” Julia steps in close and grabs my arm, her green eyes intense. “You can bring back the old ways. No more of these stupid laws that treat us as children and tell us to be good little vampires. We are predators, and it is time for us to take our places at the top of the food chain once again. With you at the helm.”
My entire body tingles with the most delicious drug in the world: power. Being ruler is what I’ve always wanted. To reshape our societies. To be above the law and do whatever I like. No one could threaten me, stop m
e, or make me their slave again. King Nice.
“Do it,” Vanderhorst says. “Dust me. But it won’t change who you are. You will always be worthless, unlovable, and untrustworthy. Just like I told your mother.”
I raise my hand, the anger pulsing through me as savagely as the new blood in my veins. “I just want this moment to sink into your head, Vanderhorst. You are sitting here trapped, defeated, and at my mercy.” I grab him, complete with chair, and zip over to the wall. I slam my hand on the button, and Julia falls into the pit.
I hear her screech as she hits the bottom, followed by a groan. “Nice! I’ll kill you!”
I set Vanderhorst down in his chair. He looks up at me with those dark eyes, his face flooded with confusion.
“I do not want to hear a single sound from your mouth.” I lean down, putting us almost nose to nose. “No one gets to tell me who I am. Not even you. And I have decided to be a better man.” As I say the words, I feel stronger than ever. I have found what I lost, what was stolen from me three hundred years ago. I am a good man on the inside. Vampire on the outside. “I win.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I untie Vanderhorst, who remains quiet and has dark circles under his eyes. He looks a little drained. Pun intended. Julia is in the pit, which is actually filled with lamp oil. I think Pike is quite possibly the stupidest vampire to ever exist. One match and the entire building will go up in flames.
Maybe not such a bad thing.
I stand at the edge of the pit and watch her trying to scale the slick oil-coated walls while ranting, “I’ll kill you, Nice! From the inside out. From top to bottom! I’ll rip out your hair!”
“Someone’s cranky,” I mutter. “And it’s Steviuus now. Or you may call me Mr. Sweet.” It has a ring to it. “And because I am so sweet, I will consider allowing you to live,” I lie, “if you tell me where Brandi and her parents are.”
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