Scared Shiftless: An Ex-Shifter turned Vampire Hunter Urban Fantasy (The Legend of Nyx Book 1)

by Theophilus Monroe

  “Excuse me,” I said, “is this the Order of the Morning Dawn?”

  “Praise be the morning light!” the three elderly women said in unison as they wove their crochet hooks through woven yarn.

  “Do you crochet, dear?” one of the ladies asked. “I think I have an extra set of hooks.”

  I shook my head. “Never learned.”

  “I suppose you don’t know how to knit, either?” a second woman asked.

  “No ma’am,” I said. “I’m here to…”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” the third woman said. “You’re here because you want to kill vampires.”

  I cleared my throat. “Well, yeah. How did you…”

  The lady in the middle set her hooks and what looked like a sweater-in-progress to the side. “I can see the pain in your eyes, dear. The devils have hurt you, haven’t they?”

  “In ways you couldn’t imagine.” I slung my duffel bag off my shoulder and onto an empty loveseat adjacent to the couch where the other three women were seated.

  The first woman I’d met came in behind me with a pot of coffee.

  I instinctively checked over my shoulder, just to be sure she was who I thought she was.

  Everything inside of me was screaming “danger,” despite the fact that nothing about these women suggested they were a threat. I had the same sort of adrenaline surge—if I actually had adrenaline like humans—that I felt when stalking vamps in dark alleys.

  I chuckled a little at the ridiculousness of it. If this place wasn’t what it was, and if it wasn’t for these women being members of the Order, and if they didn’t defy everything I assumed an order of vamp-hunting religious zealots should be like, I’d be more relaxed.

  I unzipped my bag. “Do you want to see my weapons?”

  “Just take a seat, dear.” The first lady I’d met handed me a cup of coffee, a wide smile showing off teeth so perfect I presumed they had to be fake.

  “Thank you.” I took the steaming mug in both hands. I turned and sat on the loveseat next to my duffel bag.

  “I’m Mina,” the first lady I’d met said, gesturing to the others. “And I presume you’ve met Dorcas, Carol, and Susan?”

  I smiled as I glanced at each of the women. “I’m Nick.”

  “You’re not from around here, are you, Nick?” Mina asked.

  “Not originally,” I said honestly. “But I’ve lived in the area for a while now.”

  “European?” Dorcas asked.

  “Originally from Germany.”

  “Believe it or not,” the middle woman—Carol—started to say, “I’ve never slept a night of my life outside of the state of Kansas.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Never?”

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Carol said. “I’m eighty-five years old. You’d think in all those years I’d have left at some point. But home is home.”

  Susan waved her hand through the air. “And I’ve been to all fifty states.”

  I smiled. “So opposites attract?”

  “We’re not attracted to each other, dear!” Carol said.

  “I didn’t mean like…”

  Dorcas laughed. “She’s giving you a hard time, dear.”

  I smiled. I’d never been called “dear” so many times in all my existence. It was oddly… endearing.

  “So what brings you to us?” Mina sat in one of the rocking chairs across the room.

  “A vampire took something from me,” I said. “I’ve been hunting them for the last five years. But I’m at a dead end.”

  Dorcas started laughing, then she covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry, dear! You said dead end. That was funny.”

  I nodded. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to make a pun.”

  “An undead end, maybe?” Susan asked.

  “You could say that.”

  “Tell me,” Mina said, “what did this vampire take from you?”

  I sighed. How was I going to explain this in a way that didn’t reveal too much? I mean, I could lie. But I didn’t want to tell a story that might be subject to ill-considered inconsistencies. “I was bitten,” I said. “And I just haven’t felt like myself ever since.”

  “They took a piece of your soul,” Susan said. “That’s what they do.”

  I nodded. “I suppose that’s correct.”

  “And you think by killing a vampire you’ll recover what was stolen from you?” Mina asked.

  I sighed. “I don’t know if that’s possible. But at least if I can spare others from going through what I’ve had to endure…”

  Mina smiled wide. “It’s good to hear. That’s what the Order of the Morning Dawn was founded upon. To make the world a better place for all humanity. It isn’t about vengeance.”

  I nodded. In truth, vengeance had a lot to do with what I was about. And I’d started hunting vamps for mostly selfish reasons—to get my abilities back. But I had to admit that when I’d thought Wolfgang, before I knew who he was, was attacking Gina—someone I considered a friend—and the impact the attack had… that wasn’t just vengeance. It was about protection. Guarding my own. Defending the defenseless. After all, with few exceptions, humans are defenseless when hunted by vamps.

  Yes, I was working with Wolfgang now. So my conscience was plagued by anxiety-inducing inconsistencies. But it was nonetheless true: even though Gina wasn’t bitten, the experience was traumatic.

  “I don’t know much about the Order,” I said, only partly telling the truth. I knew more than I was letting on, but didn’t know as much as I probably thought. “But I have acquired skills I think might be useful. And… I’m tired…”

  “Tired, dear?” Dorcas asked.

  “Of hunting alone,” I said. “It’s tiring. And lonely. I mean, hunting vampires isn’t exactly something you can talk to most people about. Not if you don’t want them to think you’re off your rocker.”

  Mina smiled wide at me as she rocked back and forth in her rocker.

  “No offense,” I said.

  Mina laughed out loud. “Dear, I’m on my rocker at the moment. No offense taken.”

  “I like this one!” Dorcas interjected. “He’s funny.”

  I smiled. “I’m just looking for a way to help.”

  Mina smiled. “When we take on new hunters, we usually partner them up with one of our seasoned hunters.”

  I nodded. “Alright.”

  “It’s for your safety, dear,” Dorcas said.

  “Not that we don’t think you’re capable,” Carol continued, almost as if these four women had a single stream of consciousness. “But until we’ve seen you in action, we can’t know for sure.”

  “Understandable,” I said. “So you want someone to come with me and see me in action?”

  “Yes,” Mina said. “And we tend to send out our hunters in pairs, anyway. It’s safer that way. You always want someone who has your back.”

  I nodded. “I can see the value in that.”

  “I was thinking Devin.” Mina glanced at the other three women.

  “Devin?” Dorcas asked. “Are you sure he’s ready to mentor a new hunter?”

  Mina nodded. “The young man deserves a shot to come out from beneath his father’s shadow. Working with a more experienced initiate might be a great way for him to start.”

  I smiled. “Trust me, I’ve staked more vampires than I can count. I’ll have his back as much as he has mine.”

  Dorcas nodded. “Very well, I’ll send for him.” She pulled out her smart phone from her purse, which was situated at her feet. I smiled a little; I don’t know why. Seeing old ladies navigate smart phones felt strange. But she scrolled her finger across the screen without any trepidation, not at all with the same confusion I’d noticed when older folks tried to wield cutting-edge technology.

  “He’s on the way,” Dorcas said.

  I smiled. “Thanks for giving me an opportunity.”

  Mina nodded.

  The four women exchanged glances and recited in concert, “Praise be the
morning light!”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I’m not sure what I expected—but Devin wasn’t it.

  He was a young man, probably in his early twenties. He was tall, roughly my height at six feet. A white man with dark-brown hair and blue eyes. His features were delicate. He was clean shaven and reminded me of a young Jake Gyllenhaal. Attractive, for sure. Not at all what I expected from an up-and-coming vampire hunter with an organization like the Order of the Morning Dawn.

  Then again, I don’t know what I expected. Someone a bit rougher around the edges and no sense of style. Devin, though, while certainly not about to grace the cover of GQ, clearly paid attention to his appearance. His jeans fit perfectly. His shirt was tight, but not overly so. And his nails were well manicured.

  I suppose it isn’t everyone who notices a man’s nails right away. But you can tell a lot about someone based on how they take care of their nails. Well-trimmed and polished. No oil or grime on his palms or under his nails. He didn’t bite his nails—didn’t mean he didn’t have anxieties, or compulsions that he’d use to control them, but at least nail biting wasn’t one of them.

  Everything about Devin was attractive, except for his posture. His eyes were directed toward the floor. Even as I stood and extended my hand, he only glanced back at me momentarily before looking away again. As I shook his hand, he gripped mine casually—not with the firm sort of shake a lot of men use to communicate their dominance. Devin certainly looked good, but he was anxious. He was uncomfortable and shy. This was supposed to be his world, not mine, but he was the one who looked like a fish out of water.

  “Devin has eliminated three vampires so far,” Mina said, clearly trying to puff up Devin’s resume since he obviously wasn’t inclined to boast.

  “Sounds like a busy week,” I said, smiling wide.

  Devin winced. “Three total. Ever.”

  I tilted my head and tried to draw his eyes to mine by psychological force. I figured if he saw me going out of my way to make eye contact, he’d feel a healthy amount of pressure to lock his baby blues with mine. “I was joking, Devin.”

  In truth, I’d had three-vamp weeks before, but I didn’t want to oversell myself any more than I wanted to undersell myself. They’d be convinced of my capability in time.

  “Three is quite impressive,” I said. “Most people don’t survive to stake one, much less three.”

  “Not just staked,” Devin said. “Eliminated.”

  I nodded. I suppose the phrase “staked” in hunter-speak was something of a synecdoche. It was short for “staked and eliminated,” which implied cutting out the vamp’s heart and burning it. Not that I’d spent a lot of time around other hunters. I’d encountered a few here or there, but I’d been doing it long enough and regularly enough that I knew the lingo.

  “Devin’s a preacher’s boy,” Dorcas said.

  “Not here,” Devin said. “Not this church.”

  “But a preacher’s boy no less,” Dorcas continued. “Only a few members of the Order attend this church.”

  “I don’t know much about this church,” I said, which was only a partial lie. I mean, I knew about their protests and bigotry. I didn’t know much more than that, and generally speaking, unlike the folks who represented this church in the media, I tried not to judge things I didn’t understand—even if they were quick to judge me. Not that I wouldn’t still despise what these folks were about once I knew the truth. But at least then I’d understand. I mean, if you’re going to oppose closed-minded bigotry, you have to take the higher road and have enough of an open mind to hear even the most loathsome people out. That way, in the end, you can oppose them from a position of strength rather than ignorance.

  And so far, despite the fact that these people were known for vibrant signs declaring what their deity hates, they’d been nice to me.

  “And you ladies,” I said. “You’re members here?”

  “We are,” Dorcas said. “Carol, Susan, and myself.”

  “But I’m not,” Mina said. “I’m something of a transplant from the original Order. I appreciate the church’s partnership, but they are not directly responsible for our Order’s actions.”

  “The Order doesn’t care so much what church you belong to,” Dorcas said, “so long as you’re a Bible believer.”

  “Do you believe in the Bible?” Carol asked.

  I nodded. “Noah and the Flood, the Exodus… those stories have always been dear to me.”

  “Indeed,” Dorcas said. “Prime examples of how God rises up to judge sinners and punish them for their perversions.”

  I snorted. It wasn’t what I meant. For me, those stories were legends of great meals provided for my former kind. But I certainly believed them. So in that respect, I could say I was indeed a Bible believer. “Very inspiring,” I said, attempting to remain as vague as possible about my endorsement of the stories. Enough, I hoped, that they’d continue to believe we were of the same mind.

  Meanwhile, Devin rolled his eyes. I don’t think he meant anyone to see it, but I’m more perceptive than most people. As a preacher’s kid—though I hadn’t ever met one so far as I knew—I was sure he’d had a good dose of this sort of thing his whole life.

  Not that I have a problem with any religion. Most of what I’ve read from human religious texts is overwhelmingly encouraging. It’s the people who miss the forest for the trees, who fixate on things to hate or condemn, that tend to give religion—no matter what religion it might be—a bad name.

  So far as I knew, that Jesus fellow was pretty cool. I didn’t recall him ever condemning people for behaviors or lifestyles he disagreed with. I’ve only read the New Testament once—as a part of my endeavor to learn human culture—and from what I saw, he was a radical who actually embraced the outcasts and those marginalized by the rest of society.

  I liked him. He was a lot different than many folks who tried to carry his name. I was quite surprised, in fact, to find that folks like me or Donnie or Geraldo, or anyone else from my community, were often unwelcome in churches supposedly founded to further his message.

  Maybe I’m just ignorant. But it seemed like they’d missed the point.

  “Have a contract for us, Mina?” Devin asked.

  I looked at Mina curiously. Was this nice old lady the “handler” that Wolfgang had spoken of? Or was she doing someone else’s bidding? No clue. All things I’d try to figure out. Not that infiltrating the Order was my primary objective. I was here to earn their trust, to find out what they knew about Alice’s whereabouts. And hopefully secure a contract for her.

  “A contract?” I asked. “Does that mean I have to sign on a line somewhere?”

  Mina shrugged. “We’re not so formal, dear. And the word ‘contract’ is just one we’ve come to adopt over time. Goes back to when the Order relied on mercenaries. But since you’ve come to us as a volunteer, I presume you’re not looking for any compensation…”

  I shook my head. “No, ma’am. Just looking for a way to help make the world a better place.”

  Mina smiled wide, reached into her purse, and handed Devin a small manila envelope.

  He hooked his thumb under the flap of the envelope and ripped it open. After glancing down at the contract, he looked up at me—probably the first time he’d looked at me directly without being prompted. “Nick, you ready to go do this?”

  I cocked my head. “It’s the middle of the day. Don’t you hunt vamps at night?”

  “Not this time,” Devin said. “Because we know where this one is hiding out during the daytime. Hopefully we can catch him asleep.”

  I nodded. “Easy peasy.”

  “Right,” Devin said, smiling sheepishly. Clearly he realized, as I did, that hunting vamps was never easy. Even a simple plan would invariably become complicated. Something unexpected would happen. But at least we had a job. And if I impressed them, I hoped more would follow.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Hunting with Devin was bound to present a few challen
ges I wasn’t accustomed to.

  Not like I couldn’t handle it. But generally speaking, when you’re dealing with vampires you don’t come by many advantages. Those you do have you’d be wise to keep.

  For instance, since Devin and the Order presumed I was human, I couldn’t rely on the fact that I could move faster than most vampires. Of course, not every vampire had super speed. It was more common for vampires who had a few decades under their belt. But even a youngling, motivated by the craving to feed, could move quicker than the average human.

  To maintain my cover, I was going to have to move no faster than a human. I could push it to a point, but if I started to approach Usain Bolt speeds, it would rouse suspicion. A little faster than average was the best I could do.

  Then there was the whole matter of possibly getting cut. I didn’t bleed blood. Not that I intended to get cut, anyway… but usually I avoided that because I was fast. See the first “challenge” already detailed above.

  Even a small paper cut required special attention, a stitch or two using a strand of my hair. I know it’s weird, but it works. While my body has lost its shifting capacity, for some reason my hair retained some of it.

  I’m guessing it’s because my hair was formed before I got bitten. And however Alice siphoned my abilities from me through the bite, my hair follicles weren’t directly connected to my bloodstream. So a little stitch from my hair ensured that I returned to my given form, which in effect healed me of any wounds.

  Of course, that wasn’t something I wanted a lot of folks to know. I’ve read the Old Testament. I know the story of Samson and Delilah. The moral of that story was clear: if you have magic hair, don’t tell no ho!