by Chris Lowry
The bartender liked to play with fire.
Some guys are like that. They just want to get into a pissing contest with just about everyone to let the world know something happened to them when they were younger.
It was worse with vampires because there were a ton of issues that went along with immortality, I bet. Plus the whole sparkling vampire craze of the last few years really did a number on their street cred.
He poured the alcohol into a glass in front of her and slid it on a coaster beside her hand.
She took a sip and gave him an approving nod.
I glanced at Elvis.
His eyes were roaming the floor of the casino, searching for other impersonators.
"We can't talk here," Kiko leaned over and whispered into my shoulder.
"Then why the hell did you bring me?" I grunted. Took a sip of my own.
"You look thirsty. And tired."
I was, but I wasn't about to admit it.
Elvis and I had just came from New Orleans fighting the second witch from a coven in Memphis. They had called up a group of demons that I accidentally scattered to the winds, and now was charged with hunting down.
The Big Easy wasn't so much. We met good witches, good vampires and a lot of trouble solving that particular problem.
Which led us to Vegas and the enigma sitting beside me.
"You have to get permission to work here," she told me.
I took another sip.
Snorted.
"She's telling the truth, Marshal," the bartender was back.
He heard every word because vampires have super hearing, which my companion knew.
I drained the beer in two swallows and set the empty on the top of the bar, which gave me a reason to keep both hands on the marble countertop.
"I've got the only permission that matters," I said. "The Judge sent me."
The smirking bartender barked out a laugh.
"Marshal," Elvis whispered over my shoulder.
It was a warning, so I sent out a little energy to see what was around us. But I couldn't sense anything.
"That wizard doesn't have any power
here," the bartender sneered.
I raised an eyebrow.
Waited for the lightening bolt to zip out of the sky and turn the vampire into a smoking pile of ash. Took a deep breath to blow into the ash and scatter it across the casino floor.
"Uh oh," I thought.
The vampire glanced up at the bottles on the roof rack over the circular bar.
"Like I said, no power here."
He leaned a well muscled forearm on the bar and brought his face close to mine so I could see his fangs, the red ring around his glowing eyes.
"Marshal," Elvis warned again.
Kiko watched, eyes sparkling.
"I am the only-," my new vampire friend started to say.
I wiggled a finger to freeze him in place, then reached up and gripped one of his fangs between my finger and thumb.
"Toofus extractus," I said loud enough for Kiko to hear.
Technically, I don't need to say an incantation out loud. The Judge trained all of his Marshal's to use their will alone to create a spell.
Which is pretty cool when two strong magic users are duking it out in total silence, except for the flashes of lights and miniature sonic booms really big spells can leave behind.
But I wanted these two to hear the words and make a judgement about me based on that.
Call it a little white lie.
He mewled as I pulled the first fang out, then started crying as I extracted the other.
I set the two sharp canines on the bar top next to my empty beer bottle.
The bartender wanted to reach up and feel the empty spots in his smile, but he couldn't move. His hand shivered as he tried, but in a battle of willpower, which was my magic versus his, I can be stubborn.
I shifted in the chair to face Kiko.
"We done?"
She took a sip of the fruity concoction and smiled.
"Excellent work," she said. "It's not like I could ask you to whip out your wand and measure your magic."
She flashed her eyes toward the crotch of my jeans and back up again, the mischievous grin curling one corner of her mouth.
"This guy isn't the power around here," I said. "But you're telling me there's someone I need to meet."
She nodded and twirled around.
"You'll meet him alright," she said and started strutting through the casino floor. She didn't wait for met to catch up.
"What do we know about Vegas?" I asked Elvis as I slipped off the stool and followed her bobbing head through the crowd.
"Nothing," the ghost of my watcher said as he swirled after me.
"What do you mean nothing?"
"Every watcher we put here disappears."
"Vegas is a vacuum?"
"Vortex, vacuum, or just some old powerful magic that lives around here," Elvis shrugged as his eyes skittered across the room.
"You're taking this in stride," I said as we reached Kiko at the valet stand.
"There's no reason to get upset about anything," she answered instead of the ghost. "It all works out in the end."
"Does it?"
An oversized black SUV limo squealed into the port du cuche and slid to a stop in front of the us.
"Just not yet," she gave me a wink and climbed into the door as it opened.
She looked like a child climbing out of a crib as she scrambled inside the dark interior.
"I've got a bad feeling about this," I muttered to Elvis.
"Marshal," he said. "You have no idea."
CHAPTER
The inside of the limo SUV was an exercise in extravagance. Soft leather covered benches lined either side along the sixteen foot interior, with LED lights inset in the roof that cast everything in a soft glow.
There were buckets for champagne scattered in open sections in the seats, and a full bar up underneath the divider that separated the driver compartment from the back.
A man sat in the back seat facing forward, his face a study in stoicism.
Besides Kiko, he was the only person in the Limo.
She laid on her stomach on one of the benches like she was at a sleepover, fumbled for a remote and jabbed it at a flat screen that folded down from the ceiling.
I hopped in, took a look at the bench opposite of her, and sat down beside the man.
Real close.
Elbow to elbow. So close our thighs were touching, and I waited to see what he would do.
He didn't move.
Elvis floated to the other bench and hovered over the leather.
"You know where we're going?" I said to her backside aimed in my direction.
She nodded, eyes glued to the television. I was happy she kept the sound down low.
"What about you, Lurch? You know where we're going?"
The man beside me had to be seven feet tall. He couldn't play in the NBA though, because he seemed almost that wide.
The bench seat we shared would have seemed crowded, except the SUV was large enough to hold him, me and two more like him across.
I wondered how it made it through the crowded Strip.
"Think you can get the driver to drop the divider?" I pointed. "I'd like to see how this thing maneuvers."
He sat there not talking and he was very good at it.
As far as muscle went, he was good at that too. Thick arms that ended at fists the size of canned hams. Scarred knuckles and thick brow told me he knew how to take a punch. And a tell tale bulge under his left armpit indicated he was armed.
Not that things like that concerned me.
Magic was the great equalizer.
Especially since I didn't mind fighting dirty. If he shrugged, if he took a swing, if he took a deep breath, I was ready to pop a kidney through his eyeball.
"What's in the bar?" I asked Kiko.
"Pass me a beer."
"Get it yourself," she snapped.
> I sighed.
"You want a beer with me Lurch?"
I pushed off and away from him, shifting past Elvis and biting back a shiver as his ectoplasm trailed along my arm.
"I'd like one," his voice was longing as I passed.
I opened the tiny fridge just big enough for a twelve pack under the built in metal bar and fished out a bottle of Green Mamba IPA, twisted off the top and took a sip.
"Not bad," I smacked and took another.
Lurch still hadn't said a word, had hardly looked at us as we rumbled along in the back of the SUV.
I tapped on the glass with the mouth of the bottle and the driver rolled the glass down.
A second Lurch sat in the passenger seat, Cro-Magnon face staring at the road and a look of horror on his face.
I could see why.
The guy driving was twitchy. Short fast movements like he was on the verge of vibrating.
He was a small guy, just under average and all ankles and elbows. He didn't steer, so much as grip tight and hang on the wheel.
The giant SUV rolled like a yacht down the middle of the street, moving in one lane and out of the other, earning respect through sheer size.
The driver grinned as he drove, lips pulled back almost to his ears, and he sang a low song off key, so low I couldn't make out the words.
But I was with the big guy.
If this kept up much longer, we were probably going to die.
I passed the half full beer bottle through the divider and tapped Lurch Two on the shoulder with it.
His massive head moved like shifting granite, first to look at the bottle, then at me.
He took it in a ham sized palm and drained it in one gulp, then passed it back.
The alcohol didn't help either of us.
Twitchy Squirrel Nuts kept going, getting faster even as traffic thinned out on the south side of the Strip, and the speed gave a definite rolling motion to the SUV, rocking as it swerved side to side.
Then we turned at a gate, black wrought iron locked between giant white brick towers that stretched twelve feet high. They connected to a brick wall that ran as far as I could see in either direction.
The gate trundled open and I was sure we were going to hit it, but the SUV cleared it by inches.
Lurch Two thought we were hitting it too. I could tell by the way his walnut sized knuckles turned white on the door, and the impression of his fingers in the handle from gripping so tight.
The driver led us up a meandering blacktop driveway and jammed the brakes to stop in a huge circular drive.
Both the big men jumped out first.
Kiko rolled off the bench, gathered her feet underneath her and smiled at me across the distance.
"Play nice," she said and slid out of the door.
I looked around for a place to put the empty but couldn't find one. I kept it and hopped out after her.
CHAPTER
"Wow," Elvis whispered next to me.
I wasn't sure why he kept his voice down, since I was the only one who could hear him.
"How's your feeling now?" he asked.
The mansion looked like a cross between a fortress and fairy tale castle set at the bottom of a red ridge in the Nevada dessert.
"Mellow," I said. "That beer was 8% ABV."
"That's just cruel," he muttered as he floated behind me toward the doors.
The Lurch twins led the way, but from our perspective, they looked like a pair of gorillas shoved into black suits.
Gorillas that had been subjected to genetic experiments that manipulated them into being stronger, faster and more menacing.
The inside foyer had twenty four feet ceilings above polished marble floors.
Two staircases led up to a second floor balcony that looked like separate wings to the mansion.
"Big," I muttered to the ghost.
"It's for a big man," Kiko whispered back.
"Like one of these guys?" I nodded to the back of the Boppsy Twins as they assumed stations at the bottom of one of the staircases and tried to glare us into stopping.
"Bigger," said Kiko.
I noticed she stopped out of swinging range.
I thought that was a good idea and stood beside her, but I wasn't too concerned. No one gets to be Marshal by being slow, so if Lenny or Lenny decided to make me George, the five feet between us was more than enough time to pop off a couple of spells.
A man appeared between them.
"Whoa," said Elvis.
That's what made me jump. The ghost voice in my ear, not the guy just zipping out of thin air. One minute there was nothing. The next he was there.
And no hint of magic. No residual energy signatures that radiated from the spot.
It was as if in an instant, he just was.
He smiled, his canines long and sharp.
Kiko bowed her head.
I squinted.
"A vampire," Elvis breathed. "That explains the speed."
He was tall and skeletal, with paper thin white skin and black hair that cascaded around his shoulders. His eyes were black and dark, and the smile he wore looked real because it touched them.
"Marshal," he said in a cultured Spanish accent. "I am Vega. Welcome to my world."
His long fingers worked themselves together, as if to restrain himself.
"I am told you injured one of my subjects," Vega smirked.
Another one.
I was getting sick of damn vampires and their damn smirking. Just because you're long lived doesn't give you this superiority over everyone else. Hell, I'd been around since the early 1900's and you didn't see me go around smirking at people.
"He was smirking at me," I said. "Kinda like you are."
One of my hands drifted down to open up my leather bomber jacket, shift it to one side to show the silver star I kept clipped to my belt. I cocked out one finger, the pointer, and hooked the thumb over the belt, like a cowboy ready to draw.
Lenny One growled. Lenny Two smirked.
Like they didn't think I could do much. Like they had seen something like this before and had not been impressed.
Vega may have been.
The smirk went away, replaced by a look of bemusement.
"Then allow me to apologize on both of our behalves," said Vega. "And let me further offer you a drink, so that we may discuss why you are visiting my city."
"Ask him if Vegas is named after him?" Elvis said.
I shook my head.
"Don't," said Kiko.
"You do not wish my hospitality?" the vampire asked, all emotion drained from his face.
"I've got a gnat in my ear," I told him. "It keeps buzzing. I'd appreciate the drink and the talk."
I lifted my finger off my belt to show him I was serious.
The two Lenny's tilted back into their stance, a move I noticed for the simple fact I hadn't noticed when they leaned forward, which meant they needed a closer look.
If they could move like that, they might be a little more than they appeared.
Which was saying something, because they appeared to be huge.
Any more of them and that redlined their danger quotient up a couple of factors.
Vega stepped off the stairs and zipped to the door on the far side of the foyer.
"That's how he did it," said Elvis.
"Quiet," I mouthed.
"I didn't say anything," Kiko followed him.
I followed her.
He led us into a study. I expected an evil overlord's lair, library books lining the walls, fireplace roaring. Maybe some dead animals on the wall, and on the floor in front of the fire.
There was none of that.
Just a big room with lots of thick drapes over the numerous windows, four long cream colored sofas set up in two areas, arranged so it was easy to sit and talk. I was right about the fireplace, but it was dark and bare.
Too warm for the extra heat.
Vega sat on one couch and motioned to the one across from him for us.
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Lenny One stepped in and blocked the door as his counterpart went to a wall in the back and opened a panel to reveal a bar.
He retrieved two Green Mamba beers and a glass of what looked like sherry and brought them to us.
"I hope this will suffice," Vega asked as he accepted his glass and didn't drink from it.
