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

by Theophilus Monroe

  “Okay!” I said, interrupting her. I didn’t need to hear the rest. “I get it.”

  “Then go get yourself ready. You look like a bum.”

  I looked down at myself. “What’s wrong with sweats?”

  “Nothing,” Donnie said. “But do you really want Devin to take you out… in sweats?”

  I shook my head. “I guess not.”

  “You need to get out of this funk, Nicky. This bullshit isn’t you.”

  I nodded. “I know. Don’t get me wrong, a part of me is happier than I’ve ever been. But I’m still struggling with this change… accepting that this is how it’s going to be forever. And I’m not saying it’s not a good thing. I love who I am. I can accept that. But it’s hard to know what to do with myself without that obsession. Hunting, it’s like the only thing left of me that I recognize. Without that… goal to drive me. It’s like now all I have left is tracking… you know… them.”

  By “them,” I meant the vampires. But with Caleb in the room, I had to choose my words carefully. He already thought I was little off my rocker. If he got the impression that I thought I was a vampire hunter, he’d think I was certifiably insane.

  “And because you stopped singing,” Donnie said. “Not saying I like the fact that you perform at that club, but you need to find you again, Nicky.”

  “I know,” I said, nodding. “I need to get dressed.”

  “Honey,” Donnie said, “how about we get dressed up together?”

  I nodded. “What about him?”

  “Hey Caleb,” Donnie said, “why don’t you go plan something? Take me out! I need some romance tonight.”

  “You got it!” Caleb said, more enthusiastically than I’d anticipated. I suppose, in his mind, needing a little romance likely came with a happy ending to the night.

  Devin and I hadn’t progressed that far in our relationship. Hell, I hadn’t technically been with a man before. Not like that. A lot of meaningless flirtation with random men, but that was about it.

  We were taking our time. I needed my time, and so did Devin. We’d both been through a lot. We’d both lost a lot. And, let’s face it, we hardly knew each other. We’d only completed one hunt together. And back then, we were both pretending to be people we weren’t.

  That said, Devin knew me better than I’d expected. Apparently he’d been stalking me, at Alice’s behest, for a while before I even had a clue who he was.

  He’d secretly found me attractive before I knew he existed.

  And he’d stalked the livestreams of my performances for weeks before I ever showed up at the church, before I worked with him and the Order.

  I mean, I was both flattered by that and mildly creeped out. If I wasn’t as equally obsessed with Devin as he was of me, I’d probably be more upset by it than I was. Even so, it was strange when I thought I was sharing with him things for the first time only to find out he already knew…

  I took a deep breath as I looked at myself in the mirror. This was the face I’d have to look at for the rest of my existence. Sure, there were things about my body I didn’t like. That’s true for everyone. But this was me. It really was…

  Before, even though my body was identical to what it was before, I’d been Alice’s desire. I’d taken the shape of Johann, her long-lost love. While I looked the same now, it wasn’t Johann that Devin desired. It was me. The only me he’d ever known. Even if most of the time he’d known me, he’d only watched me from afar.

  I suppose, in a way, I was now a copy of a copy of Johann.

  But the only reason I had this body again was because Devin desired me.

  For years, this body didn’t feel real to me. But what was my real body, anyway? It wasn’t like taking any woman’s body would suddenly make me feel genuine. Genuinely what, exactly? Like a real woman?

  I was a real woman. I didn’t need a cis woman’s body to know that. They only reason I thought I needed that was to pacify the expectations of others. Was that reason enough to make myself miserable and constantly discontent?

  But now I wasn’t masquerading as someone else’s object of desire. I was myself if only because Devin desired me—and this was the way I happened to look when we met.

  I didn’t need to look a certain way. Not the way that society expected a woman to look. Not exactly. I just had to look like me—the me that Devin desired. His love meant more to me than the shallow “approval” of random strangers, anyway. And those who I had to deal with, if they didn’t “approve,” well fuck ‘em. Their bigotry said a lot more about them than it did about me.

  I was lovable. I was beautiful. Just the way I was.

  And the rest of the world could suck it.

  “Alright bitch,” Donnie said, parading into the bathroom, “you ready to get fabulous?”

  I laughed. “Hell yeah I am.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Tonight I went top shelf. My Jimmy Choos. A purple dress that highlighted all my curves in all the right places. Donnie redid my nails to match my dress.

  “You’re a man-eater!” Donnie said, standing behind me as I evaluated myself in my full-length mirror.

  I cocked my head. “Not anymore.”

  “Oh shit!” Donnie said. “I didn’t mean it like that…”

  I laughed. “It’s been five years. I can take the joke.”

  Donnie smiled. “I seriously wasn’t even joking. I mean, it’s just a phrase for a woman no man could resist. She eats them and spits them out. Not literally.”

  “I know what it means,” I said, still chuckling. “And you’re right. Again, not literally. I look good!”

  “Damn straight, girl.” Donnie smiled. “Almost as good as me.”

  “Oh, you didn’t!”

  Donnie smirked. “I think Devin’s home.”

  I nodded. “I heard the door open.”

  “You ready?”

  “Yeah, I’m ready.”

  “Remember,” Donnie said, “he wants to surprise you tonight. All I told you was that you had to get ready… for whatever he had planned.”

  I smiled. “You didn’t tell me what the surprise is. Only that he wanted it to be a surprise.”

  Donnie smiled wide. “You’re going to love it.”

  I nodded and stepped out of the bathroom and into the living room.

  Devin stood there, a single rose in his hand, in a three-piece suit.

  “Damn!” I said.

  “Damn is right!” Devin said back, scanning me up and down.

  “Looking dapper, Devin,” I said with a wink.

  “Looking gorgeous, gorgeous.” He smiled back. “I didn’t expect you’d be so…”

  “Prepared?”

  Devin nodded. “It’s just late.”

  “Honey,” Donnie said, walking into the room, “I’ve got you covered. I told you she’d be ready.”

  Devin smiled. “Shall we?”

  We left the apartment and got into Devin’s car. It smelled great, and it was clean. His car was always fairly clean, not cluttered with crap like a lot of people’s vehicles, but he’d gone to extra effort to make sure the car was as clean as it could be for this “date” he had planned. I appreciated the gesture.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “You’ll see,” Devin said. “But not right now. Look in the cupholder.”

  I glanced down and grabbed a thick black strip of material. “What is this?” I asked. “A blindfold?”

  “Put it on.”

  “But my mascara…”

  Devin smiled. “You can redo that. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

  I nodded and tied the blindfold around my face.

  I tried, based on the feel of the turns, to figure out where we were going. But once we got onto the interstate it was hard to tell how far we’d gone when we finally exited. I didn’t have a clue.

  A few more turns, and Devin parked the car. “Stay there,” Devin said. “I’ll help you out.”

  “Okay,” I said with a little hes
itation. I was anxious to see whatever it was he intended to show me.

  He led me across what felt like a parking lot. There was a little traffic in the area, but not a ton. The breeze was cool. It smelled fresh.

  “Are you ready?” Devin asked as he grabbed the back of my blindfold.

  “Hell yes!”

  He removed the blindfold.

  We were at Alice’s funeral home. What the…

  But then I noticed the sign over the entrance. You couldn’t miss it. It was big, and it was bright.

  It said Nicky’s in bright-pink neon script.

  I laughed. “What in the world…”

  “Why don’t you step inside with me?” Devin asked, extending his elbow.

  I hooked my hand in his arm, then he pressed open the door.

  I noticed a smell. Alice was here, somewhere. But more than that, the whole place had changed. The old area where they had services had been replaced with a stage. Fully lit with lighting that rivaled the quality at Leotards and Lace.

  There was a piano and a microphone. In the back of the room, a glass bar—fully stocked—was illuminated by pink lights.

  I laughed out loud. “You didn’t!”

  “Your own club,” Devin said.

  “But this is Alice’s place.”

  “It’s yours now.” Alice came up from behind us with a set of keys in her hand. “We figured you could use a place to perform. A place that was uniquely you.”

  “Uniquely me,” I said, smiling as I shook my head. “Will people come?”

  “Your first show is tonight,” Devin asked. “We had to sell tickets. And we sold out in thirty minutes.”

  “But Alice, what about…”

  “I’m going to have to disappear for a while,” Alice said. “Kansas City just isn’t safe for me right now. I’ll be back. Eventually.”

  “Where are you going?” I asked. “And what about the other vampires that Johann unstaked?”

  “I’m going to New Orleans,” Alice said. “There’s a vampire there. Someone you know. She’s the head of the Vampire Council now, and I have amends to make.”

  “Mercy?” I asked.

  Alice nodded. “Hopefully she’ll accept my offer.”

  “I think she will,” I said. “If I know her as well as I think I do.”

  “And perhaps she’ll be willing to embrace my movement. If we have the council’s endorsement, we could make a big change in the vampire world.”

  “That’s amazing,” I said. “Really, Alice. And thank you for this… it’s incredible.”

  “The mortuary is still intact on the lower level,” Alice said. “Because from what I can tell, you’re accustomed to being a diva by night and a hunter by late-night.”

  I smiled. “It’s perfect. What better place to deal with vampires? I mean, those who aren’t like you. The bad ones… maybe even the ones trying to find you.”

  “Exactly my thoughts,” Alice said. “This place is yours. Maybe not officially—my name is on the books—but in all the ways that matter, this is Nicky’s now.”

  “It’s amazing,” I said.

  “And if you insist on trying to pay me back,” Alice said, “I don’t need money. I have plenty of that. But if you wouldn’t mind handling some of those vampires who are looking for me…”

  I nodded. “Gladly, Alice. Since this was your place before, I’m guessing it won’t be long until they show up.”

  Alice smiled. “You’ll be ready for them.”

  “We both will,” Devin said. “I’m a hunter, too, you know. And a warlock.”

  “And a damn fine one!” I said back.

  Devin laughed. “So you like it?”

  “I love it!” I said. “But how did you all do this so quickly, without me knowing about it?”

  “Well,” Alice said, “when you have a bunch of vampires who move fast working with you, and plenty of resources, you’d be surprised what can be done.”

  “When is everyone coming?” I asked. “For tonight’s show?”

  “The band is in the back room,” Devin said. “They’re getting ready.”

  “The band? You got me a house band?”

  “They’re on my payroll,” Alice said. “Don’t worry about it—I auditioned them. They’re amazing.”

  I nodded. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “Consider it my best effort at trying to give you something back. After what I took from you, I felt like I needed to give you something that allowed you to be you. You know, yourself again.”

  “This is better than what I lost—than what you took, Alice,” I said. “I like this me better than the person I used to be. I really think I do.”

  “In that case,” Alice said, “I’ll leave you two to enjoy it.”

  “We’re ready!” Devin shouted, hands cupped around his mouth.

  Four dashing gentlemen—not so handsome as Devin, but good looking no less—appeared from a room behind the stage. It used to be a cry room, I think, for families gathering for funerals. But now it was our band’s green room.

  And they started to play.

  “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.” Roberta Flack.

  “It’s my song!” I said. “My favorite song.”

  “I know,” Devin said. “I’ve watched every livestream of your shows going back for months now.”

  I laughed. “I didn’t know it was that easy to find.”

  Devin cocked his head. “Are you kidding? Every LGBTQ Facebook community in Kansas City has highlighted your shows. You’re a local star.”

  “Really?” I asked. “I had no idea.”

  Devin nodded. “But right now, it’s just us.”

  “I like that,” I said, looking Devin in the eyes.

  “Nicky, might I have this dance?”

  “Of course.” I smiled ear to ear as I placed one hand on Devin’s shoulder and the other around his waist. I wasn’t much of a dancer. Not when it came to couples dancing, anyway. But it didn’t matter.

  We swayed back and forth, holding each other, one song to the next for almost an hour.

  After that, well, I had a show to prepare for. And I had a feeling it was going to be my best performance yet. For once I could sing from the heart. Not out of pain. Not from a place of loss. But from a place of love.

  End of Book 1

  To be continued in…

  Bat Shift Crazy

  AUTHOR NOTES

  The Legend of Nyx was the product of a lot of listening.

  A lot of people are doing a lot of talking these days. There’s a lot of judging going on. But a lot of us (myself included) are prone to do precious little listening. When we do listen, we often do so selectively.

  I tried to put myself in Nicky’s shoes while writing this book. Not literally. I mean, I don’t think I could take two steps in her nine-inch heels. But I strove, above all, to empathize with people who might share experiences that Nicky’s story touches upon.

  The character of Nyx, or Nicky, was born after I read Kristen Beck’s memoir, Warrior Princess. I highly recommend giving it a read. Kristen, previously known as Chris Beck, is a retired Navy Seal and a transgender woman. Her story was not only inspiring, but eye-opening. How she detailed her experience from childhood through her service in the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. While reading her memoir, a few important details stood out: First, she defied “trans” stereotypes. I can’t think of anyone who embodies “badass” and “trans” and, perhaps more importantly, womanhood than Kristen. While I’ve never met her—I’d love to, someday—her journey as a member of an institution (the military) that has often linked soldiering and heroism to “masculinity” was and is profound. I’ve also spent several hours listening to her interviews, motivational speeches, and the like. If you’re looking for a real-world transgender hero to identify with, I suggest picking up one of her books. She’s a remarkable human being.

  I also interviewed three other transgender women in the process of developing this book. A few
themes emerged that I hope I honored in this story.

  First, not all trans people are the same. We tend to slap a label on people, like “trans,” and then force certain assumptions about what they must be like. The three women I interviewed were as diverse as any three people might be. They represented two different ethnicities, and three widely different backgrounds.

  Second, they all admitted that they’d often had dreams, or fantasies, of having cis-female bodies. These fantasies, while sometimes viewed as “delusional,” can also be therapeutic and beneficial.

  Third, they all detailed how important it was that regardless of their dreams or fantasies, an important part of their journey was recognizing that they are beautiful. They all endured discrimination at various levels—but finding communities of acceptance and specific people who loved them unconditionally was pivotally important in their lives.

  I learned from these discussions how difficult it can be to find meaningful love and romance. These women are not gay—even though all three I interviewed said that they were primarily attracted to men. That’s because they are not men. They are women.

  Social issues like participation in the military or athletics are important to these women—even if they are not interested in either endeavor. With news stories detailing instances when trans women have participated in sports with other women it is often assumed that these women had a competitive advantage since they were assigned “male” at birth. But research suggests that the majority of transgender women who’ve had hormone therapies often lose some of the strength typically associated with those who have higher levels of testosterone. In many respects they lose even more strength compared to cis women. Certainly there are exceptions to everything stated above. And if a trans woman participates in women’s sports, they have to endure the astersik beside their accomplishment suggesting that their victories were due to biological advantages (that most do not have) rather than their hard work and athletic ability. Or, in some states, they are forced to participate with men—a proposition that effectively forces them, if they decide to do it, to deny who they are.