“He ain’t drunk is he? Cause I’ll fuck you slam up if he pukes in my ride.”
“No worries Chuck. He is just out cold,” I explained as I shoved him in the front seat.
“Cold cocked him, did ya?”
“Something like that. Let’s get this done.” Chuck and I exchanged keys. “Here’s the address,” I said, as I showed Chuck the location where I would leave his car. “I’ll leave the keys inside.”
“Ten-four,” Chuck confirmed.
“What’s your plan?”
“There’s this nice little place out in the ‘Glades, way off the beaten path. Very desolate. It’s pretty infested with gators. By lunch time there will be nothin’ left of her.”
I knew Chuck would be thorough. He always was. “Do you still have protection?”
Chuck smiled as he gripped the cross from under his shirt. “I’d show you, but rumor has it you’ve developed some strange allergy.” He reached behind the driver’s seat and pulled out his backpack. “Everything a vampire slayer needs and more. Jimmy and I figured because of what we did in New Orleans it might be a good idea to remain prepared until we were sure all them bitches were gone for good.”
“How is Jimmy?”
“He’s cool as can be expected. He went to LA to close out Rob’s affairs and has been sulking around ever since.”
“I should have called him. Ever since I got to New York, I just wanted to put New Orleans behind me, even though I knew there was still work to be done. I let you guys down and there’s no way to make it right. I wouldn’t have called you, except I need your help.”
“You needed me? Dude.” Chuck smiled broadly. “I always knew you cared.” Chuck climbed in the Denali. “Brian, we all fucked it up. Rob is just as much on Jimmy and me as he is you. That’s just life.”
Chuck drove off leaving me in a cloud of sandy dust. Life, mine was always so black and white, now it was a sad carnival of irony. For years, I killed whoever stood in the way of accomplishing my objectives without remorse. Now, having evolved into a blood-drinking killing machine, I found the prospect of taking life unpleasant and immoral. Go figure.
I opened the door and began to slide into the Beamer. “Nice car amigo,” a voice called from the dark.
The scent grew stronger. Three approaching Hispanics came into view. At this hour, in this neighborhood, I knew trouble was not far behind. “I would love to stay and chat gentlemen, but I must be going.”
“Wah, chu don’ like our company?” one of the men murmured.
“It’s not that guys, I just have somewhere else to be.”
“Amigo, you can’t just drive into my neighborhood and do business without obtaining a business license, you know,” the first voice insisted as the other two laughed.
Obviously, they had witnessed the exchange from some hidden vantage point. “Sorry guys, it won’t happen again.”
“Chu right ‘bout that, man. You leave us the car we’ll call it even,” the third insisted.
Killing them was not the best option, but a good ass-whipping was entirely different. Option three was to put them out, like sleeping beauty in the passenger seat. Deciding option three would result in the least commotion, I took a step closer.
The three circled tightly, crowding my space.
“You do not want to do this,” I warned them.
“Oh yeah, we do,” the first one stated.
“Spiritul de întuneric,” I began to chant. Before I completed the first sentence, I felt a steely cold piercing of my abdomen. Shit, they shanked me. I felt a second knife rip into my ribs, higher up. Vampire or not, the penetrating steel burned.
Before a third assault could be launched, I sprang into a frenzied attack. The first guy’s neck snapped in my hands before the other two had realized their friend was dead. Using only my CIA acquired skills, I savagely crushed the second guy’s nose bone deep into his brains. The third guy barely had a split second to realize the grave predicament befallen his friends, before I had my hand around his throat. He slashed at my arm with his knife as I constricted his airway with a vice grip choke “Time to die,” I said coldly. My hand clamped down until his neck snapped like pretzel. Releasing his body, it collapsed to the ground, piling on top of his two compadres. I looked down at my lacerated blood-soaked shirt. “Shit, not another damn shirt.” With my blood all over the crime scene, I could not just leave the corpses here.
I dialed up Chuck. “Turn around.” I insisted. “I need you back here, right now.”
I scuffed the coral around, hiding as much blood as possible while waiting for Chuck to return. The vast majority was mine. Although the pain persisted, the bleeding had all but subsided as the wound closed within minutes. Still standing after what should have been a mortal wound, twenty years of wondering how I survived a bullet to the head was answered in a painful experience.
An approaching vehicle’s headlights dimmed, the rumble of the Denali announcing Chuck’s return. Pulling up next to the corpses, he rolled down his window and stared at the carcasses.
“What the hell?”
“You left too early. These boys showed up for a party right after you left. They tried to convince me I should let them borrow your car.”
“Looks like you convinced them otherwise.” Hopping out of the Denali, Chuck caught sight of my blood soaked shirt, illuminated by the light of the open door. “You okay?” he asked as he nudged a corpse with his shoe.
“I have been better.”
Chuck reached down and grabbed the stiff on top by the shirt collar and dragged him toward the back of the Denali. “How bout you Julio? You okay? Hey Brian, Julio says he can’t talk right now cuz he’s dead like a motherfucker.”
“I suppose I could have just given them your car.”
“Yeah, and I’d be loading your ass for the gator farm next,” Chuck scoffed.
I grabbed the other guys by the waist and carried them to the tailgate and effortlessly slung them in. Chuck watched in awe of my strength. I grabbed the last guy at Chuck’s feet and slung him in as well.
“Show off,” Chuck moaned. “All dead?”
“Dead enough,” I replied, concealing a smile. Prior to becoming a vampire, Chuck and I were evenly matched in strength, even though he held a considerable size advantage. After my transformation, my strength and speed were now magnified much to the jarhead’s chagrin.
Chuck saw my constrained smirk. “You know, if you gave me your power, I would still be able to kick your ass.”
I had his ego on the ropes and was not about to let up. “Really? I don’t recall an instance where you were ever able to kick my ass.”
“That’s probably because you were always unconscious afterwards.”
“I will tell you what, leather neck, once we are wrapped up here in Miami, we can go down to the gym and settle things like men,” I taunted.
“No thanks, Count Chocula. You’d probably just use one of those sissy-ass spells of yours, and then drink my blood.”
Even though I was slashed, bloodied, and irritated with circumstances, once again, Chuck forced my smile.
“Are you done for tonight?” Chuck asked as he closed the tailgate. “Or should I just follow you around until sunrise? I hope you realize the price of the job just jumped up. I agreed to dispose of four skinny-ass vampire bitches, not a bunch of homies that just happen to be at the wrong place at the wrong time and piss off the wrong guy.”
“Done for tonight,” I claimed while dusting my hands together.
“Let’s hope so. By the time you get my disposal fee, I’ll be buying a Lamborghini as well.” Chuck climbed back in the Denali and drove off.
I kicked the dirt around, covering the residual spillage, stripped off my shirt and threw it in the trunk. I looked down at the knife wounds in my chest and abdomen. Although the incisions were sealed, scars remained.
On the drive back to the condo, I woke the driver and explained how he had tripped and hit his head, knocking himself unconsci
ous while helping me load Celine. I also explained how she had woken, and subsequently puked all over the backseat. I then told him my friend Chuck had agreed to take Celine home and clean up her mess while I drove the two of us back to South Beach. I gave him instructions for the car exchange to occur later in the day. At four in the morning, it was the best bullshit I could come up with and would have to suffice.
With less than two hours before sunrise, it was time for me to get off the streets. I returned to the condo to find my laptop flashing; the message short and simple. “Stay safe, love Sam.”
“Shop safely. Don’t forget your sunscreen, love N,” I replied and then headed for the shower. Phillip had arranged for Sam and Dee to go to his beach house in the Hamptons in my absence. I hoped the distraction would help keep Sam’s mind off of my business, for a while.
Six months ago I would have bet everything I owned that neither Phillip nor I would be marching down the path to marriage. And sisters to top it off. What were the odds?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SUNLIGHT LEAKED FROM under the door, announcing I had risen too early. Having seen a vampire’s reaction to direct sunlight and curious as to how I would react to indirect light exposure, I cracked the closet door, but prepared to slam it shut at the first hint of discomfort. Cautiously moving toward the living room, colors had faded to more of a gray tone with the waning of sunlight. The window was facing east, yielding a panoramic view of the ocean, the setting sun still reflecting on the turquoise sea. Stepping cautiously, one foot at a time, I allowed my body to acclimate to the sensations of the growing brightness. Inching closer toward the window, I sensed my body temperature escalate. Gazing out the window at the reflection of the golden waves, I experienced what mountain climber’s term as snow blindness. As if staring at a light more intense than the sun, the brightness was screamingly unbearable. My eyes burned beyond description, as all details instantly vanquished in a flash fire of pain. Immediately, my head snapped away and I staggered a good half dozen steps backward, as my heart pounded uncontrollably. My reaction was not of any rationalized fear, but an instinctive primeval fight for survival. I shuddered at the thought of a full sun encounter.
Retreating back into the bedroom, sulking along the way, I sat down on the bed, forced to accept the vulnerabilities of my species. I flopped onto my back and sighed deeply. “Well that was a pretty stupid idea,” I grumbled. “Maybe I should try bathing in holy water next.”
I laid in the growing darkness, staring at the details of the ceiling, wondering what Sam was up to. I knew what I would rather be doing, if not for the odious task before me. The bed was quite comfortable, reminding me of happier times, when I still enjoyed a good night’s sleep in a bed. My mind began to roam, drifting in and out of consciousness, thoughts randomly approaching and receding to the melody of the sea below.
Visions of my father, in agony, trapped, clawing for survival, suffering immensely, but not crying out. How had he died?
Alert again, I checked my watch. It was past eleven. Unsure whether I had been dreaming, or in some alternate state of consciousness, the haunting visions witnessed would have to be ignored for now. The haunts of a life unknown were clawing my subconscious; my Romanian ancestors were beckoning me home.
I jumped from the bed. Romania would have to wait. Gabrielle had to be the sole focus and purpose tonight. If successful, I could be back in New York tomorrow night and the thought of that was quite calming on my dream-rattled nerves. Heading out the door, and down to Collins Avenue, I planned to walk the blocks of the Art Deco district hoping to pick up Gabrielle’s scent. A hardy breeze was blowing out of the southeast, and thunder rumbled off in the distance announcing a storm’s approach. With the direction and magnitude of the wind, I was unable to pick up any trace of my elusive vampire. The redolence of rain filled the air as thunder rattled the plate glass windows. Shards of lightning streaked to the ground only blocks away, scattering the remaining people on the streets like roaches.
With the torrential downpour advancing, now visible only two blocks ahead, I was no longer concerned with the danger of a lightning strike, but not relishing the thought of walking around soaking wet. I did not have to look far for shelter. Directly in front of me was a club named Havana.
With the clubbers once standing in line scrambling for shelter, I cruised right in courtesy of a bouncer in need of gratuity. I ordered a beer at the bar out of habit, more than the need to quench my thirst. A thirst that had certainly changed. Having already consumed two pints of blood stocked in the condo refrigerator courtesy of Phillip, I hoped to suppress my predatory desire that raised it’s ugly ass head last night. For the moment, it was working.
The scene inside Havana was nothing out of the ordinary, a packed dance floor and bar, with booze and sweat flowing. The few tables and chairs scattered about were anchored by people with no intention of moving. Wanting a chair, I approached two guys trashed at a small table between the bathroom and dance floor, and I sternly ordered them to move. Meeting their gaze of stupefied defiance, I stared into their eyes silently warning them of their fate should they not comply. Within seconds they were stumbling away.
Checking the storm’s progress on my phone, it appeared as though I would be rained in for an hour or so. I settled back and observed what I once considered to be the makings of a damn good night. I had probably been parked on the stool about forty minutes when a soft French voice called out. “If you wanted to find me, you should have asked Celine.”
“Shit,” I muttered, once again caught with my pants down. The voice sounded like Gabrielle’s, but her scent was different. Could it be I had finally found Sabine? I turned, only to find Gabrielle, somehow looking more seductive than she did in New Orleans. Wearing an oh-so-short skirt, white blouse, and fire engine stilettos, she was dressed to kill, literally. Her skin was dark bronze, and her hair cropped short.
“Are you going to be a gentleman and offer me a seat?”
I stood up, took her hand, kissed it lightly, and led her to the remaining stool. “I apologize. I was distracted by the sight of you.”
“I hope the distraction is a good one.”
Her French accent so innocent, her secret affliction so lethal. In my relatively short time as a vampire hunter, I found it odd to not cross paths with any ugly vampires, as did Chuck. I was sure somewhere, there had been a buck-toothed, Neanderthal bloodsucker, but I had not witnessed anyone remotely close to this description as of yet.
“Oh yes, you are,” I remarked. Gabrielle smiled shyly, but I knew she was anything but, and I knew what she was capable of. Assuming, as did Celine, she was unaware of my similar malady, I decided to play her game.
“Nice tan.”
“It’s spray-on. On my body it only lasts a day, but I like how it makes me look … like everyone else.”
“You, my dear, do not need to look like anybody else. Your beauty is quite unique.”
Gabrielle looked down toward her lap, concealing a gratuitous smile. I understood her desire to be like other women. The power possessed did not necessarily balance out with the unique abnormalities we both shared, and the feeling of isolation.
“Tell me Brian, how did Monique die?”
“What makes you sure she is dead?”
“I knew what her plans were. I told her she was a fool to toy with you. But she would not listen,” Gabrielle explained. “The next night, when she did not return, I went to the house. Her blood was everywhere. The house reeked of her death.”
“Speaking of scents, yours has changed. How on earth did you accomplish that?”
“You noticed. I am impressed.”
I was having difficulty getting a read on Gabrielle. There seemed to be a duality, one side mildly timid, the other self-assured.
“But perhaps we should know each other better before I reveal my intimate secrets.”
“Fair enough, assuming we get to know each other better.” Turning on all the charm I could muster, I knew where
this was leading. “So you knew Monique was going to kill me, and you chose not to warn me. Ouch. I would have warned you.”
“For some strange reason, I believe you, Brian. But it was not my place to intercede, nor did I want to. Celine and I both knew there was a good chance you would kill Monique. Do not forget, it was Monique that made me what I am. It was her fault I have not seen the sun rise for over two hundred years, her fault I was imprisoned for so long. Because of Monique, I no longer enjoy the taste of food or have ever experienced love in my life.” Gabrielle attempted to temper her tone. “I saw the way you looked at her, your Samantha. You protected her. You would have died for her. Do you not think I would want to know this kind of love?”
“I understand.”
“I came to your hotel again, the night after you killed Monique, hoping to find you. I wanted your passion, and was willing to die for it. But I could not find you. Celine insisted we leave New Orleans the very next night.” Gabriel sighed. “And here I have been ever since, imprisoned by a curse I did not deserve.”
Gabrielle’s emotions poured out, maybe for the first time in two hundred years. And as much as I tried to remain objective, I could not help but feel pity.
“Celine did not return last night, and now here you are. I suspect you have killed her as well?”
I nodded my head, confirming her suspicions.
“I know I am no match for you … so now the end comes,” Gabrielle sighed. “I will join my sisters in the eternal hell.”
“Not all of them.”
“What do you mean?” her voice perked, enlivened with curiosity.
“Angelique and Sabine. They left New Orleans as well …You did not know this?”
“I … we thought you had killed them both. Poor Sabine, all she could think of was her child. She lost her mind with grief, over the child she never knew. She always believed her child had been taken to New York and swore if we ever got out, she would go there to find her. But we never saw Sabine after our escape from that dreadful place.”
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