Straight Outta Fangton

by C. T. Phipps

  “Don't you think I know that?” Elisha said, coming up to my face. “Don't you think I know exactly who benefits from all this?”

  “Then why—”

  “Because we don't have a choice!” Elisha snapped. “We have to war for turf and defend it because there are people out there who need us. Younger vampires who don't know what the rules are, what is going to happen to them if they disobey them, and who have no place to go if they don't have the Network. Families are still getting driven out of their homes all across the country because they're found out as supernatural. The government wants us all segregated in the Rust Belt cities because it's convenient for them and the Old Ones. It's supernatural apartheid.”

  I did my best to not roll my eyes at the comparison. Elisha loved her hyperbole, and the differences were probably not going to register to her when she was trying to avenge her dead friends. I knew that kind of revenge—I had taken it, and it felt damned good—but it wasn't going to help matters. I knew the horrible terrible secret of the Network and why everything they were doing was pointless.

  “There's another option,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  This was an even worse idea than theirs, but it was the one I could think of that didn't leave a bunch of fresh corpses. “You should try to make peace with the Muerta.”

  “Ha!” Elisha scoffed. “You're insane. You've spent too much time in the Apophis, sucking blood from the tits of hookers.”

  There was a general agreement from the other supernaturals in the room and I could tell I was losing them.

  “You can join your strength together and force the Old Ones to take you seriously. As you're divided, you won't be able to do anything against them, which is how they like it. If you kill them, you'll also just be inviting in more people to pick up the slack and then you'll have to kill their replacements and so on until you're bled white.”

  “You know the story of how I became a vampire, but not everyone here does,” Elisha said, not talking so much to me as at me.

  “Please, baby, don't make this a speech.”

  “I was born the daughter of a single-parent family here in Detroit—”

  “Oh God, you're making this a speech.” I covered my face, knowing this wasn't going to go anywhere good.

  “I struggled with anger, depression, and feelings of violence growing up. Vampires weren't public back then, only myths and creatures of fiction, so I never suspected the blood of the undead ran through my still-living veins. I was a dhampyr, a half-vampire created by my mother being forced into servitude by my monstrous father. When she became pregnant, he abandoned her to poverty and a child whose flaws she had no idea how to deal with.”

  None of this had anything to do with our situation, but there was no sense in interrupting her now. The rest of the audience, her speech's real target, was eating out of the palm of her hand.

  Elisha stared at me. “When the Bailout happened and the vampires revealed themselves, my mother broke down. The shock of the monsters haunting her nightmares being real was too much for her. She revealed the truth of my accursed birth on her deathbed. I tracked my wayward father down, finding a string of broken lives and shattered minds along the way. When I found him, he attacked me, changed me, and left me for the sun. Now, he sits as one of the city's secret masters and a courtier to the voivode.”

  “Elisha—”

  “My story is not an uncommon one, and every supernatural here has a similar one. We've had to fight for what little we have here and against those who would take it away.” Elisha handed me my shotgun. “You talk like one of them, you know. You didn't used to. Back when you were a servant, I thought you were special. I wish I had created you myself rather than that walking snake, Thoth. You have a choice. You can fight with us for a better future or go back to your friends in uptown.”

  Elisha didn't know about my brother. In all of our time together, I'd never told her. So, she didn't expect my eyes to darken as I shoved the gun back to her. “I'm done fighting for other people's turf.”

  Six months later I was exiled and the Network was barely holding together after driving the Muerta from the city. They'd ended up making peace and sharing the city's drug profits.

  I hated being right.

  Looking at her now, I could see that the past two years had changed her. The revolutionary fire was still in her eyes, but it had been dulled into a low burning flame over an ashen pit. It said something about how vampirism changed you that I was starting to think with those sort of flourishes. But there was something about Elisha that inspired the poetic side of my soul. I shared her anger about the excesses of supernatural society, and wished I could have helped her. I'd just lost too many loved ones fighting other people's wars.

  “Is this where you slap me in the face and call me an asshole?” I asked, trying to break the ice.

  “This isn't a movie, Iraq,” Elisha said, sighing. “We're a little past the point of white hot anger followed by forgiveness. Right now, whenever I think about our past relationship, all I feel is numb.”

  Ouch.

  I deserved that, probably, but it still hurt.

  “I see,” I said.

  “Hey Elisha,” David said, waving to her. “How's things?”

  “Could be better, David,” Elisa said, giving a forced but sincere smile. “Still working at the Qwik & Shop?”

  “Yeah, it's the only place where no one gives enough of a shit to fire me,” David said. “I even got Pete a job there.”

  “No!” Elisha said. “That's horrifying!”

  “I know!” Kali added. “Peter, you poor thing!”

  “Get this—he actually tries to do his job,” David said, sniggering. “It's hilarious.”

  “All right.” I stepped among them. “That's enough, everyone. I've had enough of ‘make fun of the black vampire’ day.”

  “You're not the only black vampire here,” Melissa corrected, amused at my parade of embarrassments.

  That was when Elisha walked up close to her, the Network leader's posture turning hostile and predatory. “Don't I know you?”

  Melissa immediately tensed. “No, I'm sure you don't. I admit, I do have one of those faces, though.”

  Elisha narrowed her eyes. “No, you don't.”

  I stepped between them quickly. “Elisha, need to talk.”

  “I can't imagine what you think we could talk about after all this time,” Elisha said, putting her hands on her hips.

  “Yeah, he's got a lot of guts coming back here after what he pulled,” David said, nodding along.

  I looked back at him. “Listen, Star Wars references are applicable to almost everything, but not anything involving the supernatural.”

  “The Force is supernatural,” David pointed out.

  I stared at him and he actually hid behind Kali.

  “Worst servant ever,” I muttered. “This is important, Elisha, and not something that can be discussed in public.”

  Elisa stared at me and I could still see the hurt in her eyes from when I betrayed her. When I'd heard about how many Network agents had been killed in her fight with the Muerta, I'd beaten myself up for weeks, trying to think if I could have turned that untrained underpowered group of rabble into something that could have fought them. Whether I, alone, could have made a difference.

  I know Elisha thought I could have. In fact, I'd be very surprised if Elisha didn't just tell me to get the hell out. Even if Kali owned and operated the bar, almost the entirety of the clientele was Network. The very fact that she was a dhampyr turned vampire and probably three times as strong as I was helped too. Elisa had started as a bouncer here before getting into social activism, and I'd once seen her rip the arm off a werebear.

  Instead, though, Elisa said, “All right, I'll meet you in my office.”

  “You have an office here?” I asked, surprised.

  Kali frowned. “I was forced to make certain accommodations to the Network in order to remain in business.”


  That troubled me. “Okay, lead the way. Stay out of trouble, guys.”

  “What trouble could we possibly get into here?” David asked.

  “We'll be fine,” Melissa said.

  Elisha proceeded to lead me past a set of doors to the hallways behind the bar. The walls had once been covered in graffiti calling for the overthrow of the Council, slurs against the U.S. government, various swear words, and the numbers of local hookers. They’d all been painted over with a tasteful eggshell blue, which seemed a direct counter to the rest of The Razor. There were three or four open doors in the hall, revealing people counting money, a storage room for drugs, and an armory. It was a lot more professional-looking operation than before.

  Elisha's office was right beside Kali’s, and it was a good deal more sedate than I'd expected. There was a plain metal desk with a laptop on it, a pair of chairs, a filing cabinet, a metal safe against the back wall, and a wall covered with photos of the Network's deceased. She sat down in a courteous, businesslike manner. Even her gaze remained even.

  Something was wrong.

  “I'm sorry about what happened,” I said, instantly realizing that was the worst sort of thing to say.

  It didn't have the effect I expected. “You shouldn't be, Iraq. You were right. We blundered blindly into our conflict with the Mexicans like children. There were other conflicts after it, exactly like you described. We lost Tyrone, Linsha, Paige, Todd, Grax, and Suicide in the six months you were gone but still in the city limits. After you were exiled, a good half of the remaining Network crew quit.”

  I grimaced, remembering each of those supernaturals as a friend or acquaintance. “You did the best job you could.”

  “I did,” Elisa said, her voice now accusatory. “Did you know?”

  “Know?” I asked, hoping she hadn't learned the truth in the past two years.

  Elisha had. “That the Network was funded by the Old Ones?”

  It was like a kick in the gut. “Yeah, I found out from Fatimah a few weeks before. I hadn't believed her, but she'd talked about it like it was self-evident. They built the opposition so they could control its narrative. Some real Emperor Palpatine shit.”

  Elisha raised an eyebrow.

  “Okay, I stand corrected, sometimes Star Wars is applicable even to the supernatural,” I said. I didn't want to tell you because I worried it would destroy you.”

  “So, you just decided I'd be better off blindly running off a cliff.”

  I grimaced. “Er, no? I tried to get you to resist. I tried to—”

  “You tried everything but the truth,” Elisha said. “Were you spying on us?”

  I don’t know what compelled me to tell the truth. “Yes.”

  Elisha’s eyes narrowed before becoming dissonantly serene. “It's all right. I've suspected for a while and have long since stopped blaming you.”

  I blinked. “You have?”

  “Oh yes,” Elisha said, getting up from her seat and going to her filing cabinet. “I won't lie to you—I was in a very dark place for a while, but my situation allowed me to examine just what I was fighting for and how much I needed to be willing to sacrifice in order to make substantive change to the Vampire Nation.”

  “Uh, good. I guess.” I remembered then why I was here. “Listen, Elisha, there's something you need to know. There's this kind of uber-vampire who is planning to kill every vampire in the city. He almost destroyed the Apophis tonight and may be working with both Theodore Eaton as well as members of your group. Hell, maybe even you. I know you wouldn't—”

  “Does the voivode know? Is she coming with her bogatyrs to kill us all?” Elisha reached into the filing cabinet and removed a small tube I couldn't quite make out the precise shape of.

  “No.” I shook my head. “I protected you.”

  “Thank you,” Elisha said, walking over to me.

  Then she stabbed me through the heart with a steel stake.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As I told Melissa, stakes through the heart don't kill vampires.

  They do, however, ruin your evening.

  “Fuck!” I tried to shout but I only ended up speaking in a tone little above a whisper.

  “You broke my heart, Iraq,” Elisha said, sitting on the desk. “So now I've broken yours.”

  I managed to choke out. “I'm not Fredo! If anyone, I'm Sonny!”

  Elisha stared at me like I was insane. “You realize you're going to die now, right? Half of the people out there are my chosen followers. All of the weekend warriors and half-hearted members have been purged or abandoned the cause. What we have now is a collection of true believers who will join in the fight to purge the Old Ones from this city. Tonight.”

  She was probably right about me dying. I couldn't use my powers with a stake through my heart. Thoth said that was because the heart was where the Egyptians believed the soul rested and where witches believed all magic flowed. I believed it was just damned hard to use mental abilities when you had a goddamn piece of metal stabbing through you.

  I couldn't even contact Melissa through our bond.

  “Only half … you're slipping,” I managed to say through choked breaths. I needed to keep her talking. Not just because I didn't want to die, but because I actually wanted to know what the hell she was thinking.

  Hadn't the previous failed attempts to fight the Old Ones taught her anything? The Vampire Nation wasn't a street gang; it was an undead superpower!

  “We only need half with Renaud,” Elisha said, sitting on the edge of her desk in front of me. “He's the most powerful vampire I've ever encountered. He's twice as old as the voivode and even more powerful, having absorbed the blood of many other vampires to give him their strength. You've not seen the things he can do or the miracles he can perform.”

  “Yay for vampire Jesus,” I said, each syllable painful. “Are … you … insane?”

  Elisha went back around her desk and pulled out a long, thick-handled Bowie knife. “You don't get it, do you, Iraq?”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  Elisa shook her head. “You were right. We were playing a sucker's game. I was blind before, but now I see the strings. If we're ever to be free, the Young Bloods and other supernaturals, we have to kill the Old Ones. They may be immortal to most people, but weapons made from their bones can permanently destroy them.”

  Damn, Thoth wasn't going to be happy about that getting out.

  “You can't win,” I said, more pitying than anything else. I summoned all my strength to speak clearly and concisely. “This is another fight you're leading your people to slaughter in.”

  “I don't think so,” Elisha said, coming back to me with the Bowie knife. “You haven't seen what he can do. All we have to do is eliminate the twenty richest vampires in the city along with their masters in the Council of Ancients. Their entire network of cash, blackmail, and graft will collapse. From there, the Vampire Nation will lose its grip on the Young Bloods and lesser supernaturals, making a more equitable society. It'll be like the American Revolution for our kind.”

  “More like … the French,” I said, wondering how she could be so naive. “Renaud wants to kill all vampires everywhere.”

  I wasn't so sure about that, honestly, but I was starting to see why everyone was sticking to that story if he inspired this kind of loyalty.

  Elisa smiled beatifically. “Renaud loves me.”

  Oh my God, really? What was with this guy? Was every woman dying to get into his jaws? “You too?”

  That was when Elisa's shoulders slumped and all fire left her for straight-up indignation. “What the hell do you mean, you too?”

  I struggled not to say something that would get me killed. I failed. “Lisha, you got Twilighted.”

  “Fuck you, Stone!” Elisha shouted, kicking me in the chest and causing my chair to fall to the ground with a loud bang.

  Seconds later, Melissa was inside the room. The super-fast vampire possessed super-hearing and had come immediately
upon hearing the scuffle. Elisha scoffed at Melissa before swinging around a fist at her head with the force to knock it clean off. I could only watch in slow motion, unable to do a thing.

  Melissa ducked, grabbed the stake in my chest, and then jabbed it into Elisha's chest. Elisha's mouth spit up blood as her eyes widened in shock. The Bowie knife in her hands dropped to the ground and rolled across the floor.

  “I've staked a few vampires before,” Melissa said, picking up the Bowie knife off the ground. “The trick is to take their heads after you do it. I prefer using a machete, but I suppose I can just saw your undead head clean—” She lifted up the knife to start cutting.

  I grabbed her by the shoulder. “No, don't—”

  “She was about to kill you,” Melissa said. “Either because you were a shitty boyfriend or because she's a goddamn terrorist.”

  “Language, Sister Christian. What would the Lord say?”

  “To kill all the bloodsucking abominations, but I'm still working that out thanks to my new condition.”

  I wasn't sure if she was joking or not. “Don't hurt her.”

  “Why?” Melissa said. “You love her?”

  I made a pfft noise. “I think we're past that point. I will say, though, we're more likely to get out of here alive if she's not dead when they find her. She's got a lot of friends outside, and I don't want to be the one to rile them up.”

  “Screw you,” Elisha said, her voice barely a whisper. “I'm not telling you anything.”

  “We need to get her laptop and what's in her safe,” I said. “The password is her cat's name. She never changed the safe's default configuration.”

  Elisha let out a primal scream that sounded only like a series of unpleasant grunts.

  Melissa pulled off her coat and put the laptop in its interior before starting to hack the safe. “What are we trying to do here?”

  I felt my wounded heart start to heal. It was painful and made me hungry as hell. “We need to find out where they intend to hit the city’s Old Ones.”

  “Do we really care?” Melissa asked a pertinent question. “They're kind of assholes.”