Vampires Need Not...Apply?

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  Right. Lucky. My day has been a giant pinche shamrock. “I would not call it that.”

  “Mine neither,” the man grumbled.

  “Sorry to hear that.” You pinche psychopath. “If you’re not going to kill me and you’re not dying, I’m going back to my apartment to drink myself into a stupor.”

  “Stay. I will pour you a scotch.”

  “No, gracias. I think—”

  “I said, ‘Stay.’Relax. This is what you want.” Something in the man’s voice compelled him to obey. Ironically, the sensation felt far more unnerving than being threatened physically.

  “If you insist,” Antonio replied reluctantly. What the hell is going on?

  The man grabbed him by the arm and dragged him across the room. Caray, what a fucking grip this man had.

  “Sit,” the man commanded. “I will return in a moment.”

  Antonio’s body obeyed, but his mind clicked back and forth between caged-animal panic and an artificial complacency.

  Keep your cool. Get him to let his guard down and then run for the door…

  The man returned promptly with a cool-to-the-touch, smooth glass tumbler.

  Antonio took a whiff. Single malt scotch. Very fine. “Macallan 1926?” Antonio asked.

  “You have a good nose.”

  “I learned to drink scotch in my late teens; wanted to piss off my father, who happens to be a vintner.” And possibly the most vile son of a bitch on the face of the planet.

  The man laughed. “A very expensive rebellion.”

  Scotch had only been the beginning of a lifelong pursuit to reject everything his father stood for. If it was the last thing Antonio did, he’d beat his father—and by beat, he meant kill.

  “These days my tastes have humbled,” Antonio said. “I’m a big fan of Belgian whites. In fact, I have a six-pack in the fridge if you’d like to try—”

  “You will stay and relax,” the man commanded.

  The anxiety instantly drained from Antonio’s body. “Yes, I’d like that.” I think.

  Again the man laughed. “Good. So, you are my neighbor,” he said.

  “Yes. I am Antonio Acero.”

  “Kinich. Nice to meet you. So, tell me more about this bad luck,” Kinich said.

  “Why?” Antonio never discussed his problems with anyone. What good would it fucking do? They’d either think him crazy or… well, fucking crazy. Nor could anyone help him. So no fucking thanks.

  “If it’s worse than mine,” Kinich replied, “it might make me feel better.” He added in that strange, deep voice, “I insist.”

  Antonio took a large swallow of the smooth, smoky liquid. Oddly, he felt the gripping urge to tell the crazy man everything.

  But will he believe you? Antonio’s situation exceeded the boundaries of sanity and defied every law of the universe. It was the reason he’d left home at his first chance. It was the reason he’d studied quantum physics. It was the reason nothing mattered more than proving alternate dimensions existed.

  Of course, proof seemed like the illusive pot of gold at the end of a rainbow until two months ago when a colleague—as a joke—sent him an article about the Mayans and time travel. The legends spoke of a sacred tablet, and with it, they’d traveled the stars, saw the future, and eventually returned home to share their wealth of knowledge. The Mayans then constructed pyramids, complex irrigation systems, and a calendar more accurate than what was used today.

  However, the Mayan holy men, knowing the danger of time travel and dimensional exploration, kept this knowledge close to the vest. Only their high priests and kings ever knew of the existence of the tablets. And it was said that when the Spanish arrived, it was Fray Diego de Landa who discovered their secrets and witnessed their powers firsthand. Yes, the Fray Diego de Landa. Infamous Franciscan monk who led the Mexican inquisition and subjected the indigenous population to violent forms of torture in the name of Christianity. He burnt every shred of paper, including the sacred codices, and destroyed every tablet he could get his “holy” hands on. No one understood his violent, bloody rampage of destruction, but if he had indeed seen the tablets open a portal to another world, one could easily guess why a monk of that day and age would believe it to be the devil’s magic.

  Luckily, however, not everything had been destroyed. A few precious historical documents survived along with the record of one remaining tablet that had been hidden from the Spaniards, kept safe all these centuries somewhere near the border of Belize.

  “I am waiting,” said Kinich.

  Antonio felt an odd pressure inside his head, compelling him to speak. “It all started when I went to Mexico to find an artifact I’d been searching for. A tablet. I didn’t believe it would be there, but the fucking thing practically hopped in my lap—as if it was looking for me,” Antonio said.

  “You do not truly believe the tablet sought you out, do you?” Kinich asked.

  Antonio took another sip. “I’ve thought to myself many times, Puta madre! I have lost my mind. But I cannot deny what I saw.

  “I’d been in Tulum, Mexico, for a week with my companion, a lovely German woman named… caray. I cannot remember—Ute. Sí, Ute was her name. She was built like a swimsuit model and insatiable, but her incessant whining drove me mad. ‘Make love to me again, Antonio. You work too much, Antonio. You never spend enough time with me, Antonio.’Caray. It was too much; a man’s got to have a few hours of downtime. I grabbed my gear, took my map, and headed out in my Jeep. However, I think I already knew where I was going—to a dirt road in the middle of the jungle. That is when the engine died.”

  “Let me guess. A strange redhead wearing pink appeared to you.”

  Antonio felt the pressure in his head pull back. “How did you know?”

  “Lucky guess,” Kinich said.

  Lucky guess my pinche foot. “How did you know?”

  Kinich cleared his throat. “That redheaded woman is my sister. She has a way of popping up like that.”

  “Your sister?”

  “Yes,” Kinich said, “and I’m going to bet she spoke of clowns, talked to a bug, and then directed you to the tablet?”

  Sí. That is exactly right. How did he know? “I thought I’d dreamt the entire thing. The scuba diving, finding the tablet inside a cenote, the Jeep starting on its own. But when I woke up in my bed back in New York, I knew. It had been fate.”

  Kinich chuckled. “Not Fate. Cimil. Fate doesn’t usually get her hands dirty with overly complicated jungle-based plots. This has Cimil written all over it.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “I suppose”—Kinich paused—“there’s no harm in telling you. I’m going to have to wipe your memory before you leave anyway.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I am a god,” the man said casually. “Well, I was a god.”

  Yes. Of course you are… The man was clearly insane. Actually, this entire conversation had taken a trip to Salvador Dalí Land. Care for a fucking melted pocket watch anyone?

  Antonio stood. It was time to get the hell out of there.

  “Where are you going?” Kinich asked.

  “My assistant is coming to help me translate notes. She’s probably waiting outside right now,” Antonio lied.

  “Bullshit. She comes in the morning, and it’s eight o’clock at night,” Kinich said. “Tell me what Cimil said and then you may leave.”

  Once again, Antonio felt an odd sensation pressing against his mind, pushing him to talk. “The redhead said that I was to study the tablet, decipher it, and unlock its secrets. If I did so, my destiny would be fulfilled.” He left out the part about finding his true love and happiness. Men simply didn’t say that sort of crap to other men.

  “I see.” Antonio heard the man scratch his chin. From the sound of it, he hadn’t shaved in weeks.

  “Then I believe this is what you must do—unlock the tablet’s secrets. Quickly.”

  “How do you propose I accomplish this?” Antonio asked. “My
most important tool happens to be out of commission, and it’s impossible to teach someone else to translate what they see in a meaningful way for me.”

  “You still have your brain; you’ll figure it out. And if you do not, you will die.”

  Santa Maria! He turned to leave, only to find two cold hands pushing him back into his seat.

  “Relax. I told you that I am not going to kill you, it is forbidden to kill mortals who are not evil—kill them on purpose, anyway. But my brother and a very good friend are trapped inside another dimension. If they are not released, the Maaskab are prophesied to make the planet their personal playground of death and destruction.”

  Maaskab? What the hell is that? And his brother is trapped? End of the world? “You are mad.”

  “I speak the truth,” Kinich said with a low hypnotic voice.

  “Sí. And my huevos are magical coconuts.”

  “Your eggs?” the man questioned.

  “Balls. My balls!”

  “And you say I am insane? At least I do not believe my testicles are magical,” Kinich said.

  What the…? “I’ve answered your questions. I’m leaving now.” He stood and beelined for the door, instantly slamming into a table. His body toppled over and his face smashed into a pile of whatever had been on top, including something made of glass. Something sharp.

  “Puta madre!” Blood gushed from his cheek as his body tumbled.

  A feral growl seeped into his ears. “You broke the vial. It smells so… so…”

  Antonio felt the cool tickle of air move across his face as two sharp knives sank into his throat.

  Chapter Diez

  Two blocks from Helena’s building, Ixtab sighed with relief. She’d staggered into the alley and had found a worthy country-club member. He’d been passed out behind a Dumpster with one eye cracked open. That was enough for her to see his soul. Ah. Black aura. Bingo!

  A few seconds longer and Ixtab would have been down for the count. But why had she filled up without touching anyone? And that damned taste in her mouth wouldn’t go away.

  As she strolled down the sidewalk bustling with people heading out for their evening fun, her cell vibrated and then played the Death March. She dug it out from her enormous straw handbag—the one with plastic daisies on the outside and stuffed to the gills with Tic Tacs, a spare veil, and the knitted bootees she planned to gift wrap later.

  “Hey, Penelope.”

  “Any news?”

  What should she say? If this situation was heartbreaking to watch from the sidelines, it had to be a thousand times worse for the stars of this drama. Gods, she wished she could simply fix Kinich. But she couldn’t. “I’m sorry. He’s still working on it. Just give him a few more days.”

  “That’s what you said yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that.”

  “That’s because he still goes monkey balls every time he smells your blood,” Ixtab explained.

  “He won’t kill me, Ixtab. I know he won’t. He loves me too much. Maybe if we let him have a nibble?”

  Patience, patience…

  Oh, hell. I can’t hold it! “Would you like a wooden or a plastic barrel for your trip down Niagara Falls, today, Miss Evel Knievel?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. I just think it’s amazing. For most humans, elevated pregnancy hormones make them more cautious and protective. But you, you turn into a goddamned daredevil!” Ixtab said.

  Awkward silence.

  “Evel Knievel rode a motorcycle, not a barrel,” Penelope said quietly.

  “Oh. What. Ever! The point is you have more than yourself to think about now.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m here in New York. I need to see him. I need to fix this. Not for me, but for the baby, too. It deserves a chance to have its real father.”

  “No! Dammit. It deserves to live, which it won’t if you go anywhere near Kinich. Besides, you’re forgetting that he doesn’t want to see you. He doesn’t want to risk hurting you and the baby.”

  Long pause. “You’re right,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I know you’re right.” Long pause. “Can’t I talk to him on the phone? Can’t he at least say it to my face? Or ear. Crap. Whatever!”

  I tried that. He said hearing your voice would send him into a frenzy. “What’s the point? He’s only going to tell you what I’ve already said. Give him time, Penelope, and I’m sure—” Sobs broke out on the other end of the phone.

  Normally, crying humans didn’t bother Ixtab much, but for some reason, it really got under her skin when Penelope did it.

  Maybe you really care for her?

  What? Me?

  Ha. Never.

  Okay. Maybe a little. Ixtab tapped her foot on the cold concrete. Okay. A lot. “Fine. I’ll go to his apartment and get him on the phone, but don’t come near his place.”

  “I’m staying upstairs with you at Helena’s,” Penelope said.

  “That’s too close.”

  “Ixtab, stop. You’re not my mother.”

  Clearly not. Ixtab was far from being an angel. “You’re absolutely right. If she were here now, she’d…” What kind of punishment would an angel dole out? “She’d… poke you in the eye! Uh-huh! That’s right.”

  Penelope made a little caah “whatever” sound.

  “You know, Penelope, I consider you like a sister. Only a less annoying, mortal-ish version with a heart. And a conscience. But clearly the Creator didn’t pluck you from the brainy branch. Did he? Kinich. Is. A. Vampire. One who would like nothing more than to gobble you up like a ten-year-old holding a hand-dipped waffle cone filled with birthday cake, M&M’s, and topped with vanilla ice cream. And video tokens. Well, maybe they wouldn’t eat the tokens, but you get the gist.”

  “Ixtab, I can’t help it. My brain says stay away, but everything else says to go to him, that it will all work out if I trust him, if I trust our love. I didn’t do that before when I should have, and it only made things worse.”

  “Getting anywhere near my brother is a death sentence, Penelope. I’m seventy thousand years old, and you’ll simply need to trust that I know what I’m talking about.”

  “Ixtab, you don’t under—”

  “But I do. I do—Wait. Why are we even having this conversation? You know, I could never understand people with a death wish. Seriously. You’d never see other animals pulling this crap, but you humans…oy vey. Would a dog base jump off the Empire State Building? How about a chipmunk? You’d never see those furry little bastards doing stupid crap like free-climbing El Capitan, and they’re goddamned nuts. And evil. Oh yes, evil. Which makes Alvin and his sweater-wearing, pop-star buddies all the more disturbing. I digress. Point is, humans who don’t value the gift of life really irk me.”

  “I know I’m being an idiot,” Penelope said, “but I can’t think of anything other than Kinich. It’s driving me insane. And in my heart, I know he wouldn’t kill me. It—it doesn’t make sense, Ixy.”

  Ixy? Did she just give me my first nickname? Ixtab suddenly felt warm and gooey inside.

  “Why would the universe,” Penelope continued, “and fate go through so much to bring us together only for him to kill me? We’re meant to do this—this saving-the-world thing together. Two parts of one soul, Ixtab. You said so yourself. We are mates. And…” She sighed deeply. “I can’t breathe without him. I’m afraid that one day soon, I won’t be able to get out of bed. Or see this through for me or the baby. My soul can’t keep going like this—all broken.”

  Dammit. Failure wasn’t an option. Ixtab would have to put Penelope on life support, aka daily cleansing.

  “Please, Ixtab. Will you get him to call me?”

  “Yes. I’ll go to him now. But stay away from his apartment. Go straight to Helena’s.”

  She pressed End and headed back.

  Five minutes later, Ixtab stepped off the elevator and heard a wail that turned into a nasty gurgle. The noise came straight from Kinich’s apartment. “Oh, fancy fudg
e.”

  She bolted through the door and found Kinich hunched over a pair of twitching legs. “Kinich! No!”

  She tackled him to the floor and felt a spark of pent-up, evil energy release from her body. Christ almighty!

  Kinich’s eyes blackened and his lower lip quivered as he stared straight up at her. He seemed just as shocked as she was.

  She looked over her shoulder, horrified to see the victim. Antonio? Oh, gods. Please no. He was unconscious and bleeding from the neck.

  She launched off of Kinich and scrambled to Antonio. “No. No. No!” She ripped off her veil and reached for his neck, pausing for a moment. Dammit, she had to stop the bleeding, but if she touched him without getting her mind straight, he’d likely die anyway.

  She closed her eyes and urged her cells to open, to pull the flow of energy inward instead of readying to release.

  Nothing.

  Antonio’s breathing shallowed, and his blood ran freely onto the floor.

  “Oh, hell.” Maybe she’d be able to pull the bad energy back out before he woke up.

  Good fucking luck with that. Once transplanted, dark energy always seemed to stick better to its new home and was ten times harder to pull out.

  Doesn’t matter; there is no other choice.

  She compressed the wound with the veil. Ixtab gasped and felt her entire body surge with a powerful light that circulated between them. In and out. In and out. It was as if…

  Our lights are dancing together.

  What the…?

  She looked over at Kinich. “Dammit, sunshine. Get your ass on the phone and call that vampy doctor.”

  “What doctor,” he grumbled, still immobile on the floor.

  “There’s a magnet on your fridge. Didn’t you see it?” Helena had mentioned in their last phone call that she’d put them in all the apartments for the newly undead. “Move!”

  She looked back down at Antonio, feeling mesmerized by the intertwining of their souls and by his exquisite male beauty. She brushed back his dark brown hair. “Don’t die on me, Klaus Van Mad Scientist. Don’t you dare die on me.” Gods be damned she didn’t know what was happening, but she’d never touched a mortal like this. She wasn’t draining his darkness or killing him. They were simply… touching.