by Slay (epub)
“This is precisely what House Striga wants, and what we must avoid. I refuse to give them the satisfaction of a war. I have a plan. We must contact our kinsmen in Amsterdam and have them put a bug in the ear of that gnat on our collective asses, Van Helsing.”
“Van Helsing? On more than a few occasions you've referred to him as 'a dithering incompetent'!” Sebastian said.
“We don't require competency... only a distraction.”
Sebastian shook his head. “Bringing a Paradoxan to do our dirty work? Yannara, have we fallen that low?”
“So, I should let House Striga do as they wish?!”
Sebastian threw up his hands. “Fine, but what of their spy? Aren't you concerned he will alert House Striga?”
“He is not a spy and he would be terrified to tell them he had spoken to me at all.”
“I am uneasy about this. He is not within our ambit of control. Let me take care of him right now. The sooner the better.”
“At this juncture it would rouse the suspicions of House Striga.”
“But you do not trust him.”
“I have seen what is in his head. He wants to belong, but with his deeply depraved appetites he would be easy prey for that creature from the Carpathians, that Dracula. If that corrupted prime digs its claws into our highly suggestible kinsman, our Clan could be damaged to the point where we may never again be able to proudly wear the ancestral name of Renfield.”
Beautiful Monsters
Valjeanne Jeffers
In the city of Passion, Sanyu perched atop a branch on the edge of town. The slender vampire had skin the color of chocolate, sable-brown eyes, thick lips and braids that brushed her shoulders. She stared down at the barred windows of the Haberdashery Shoppe. She’d been waiting for an hour, and still there was no sign of them.
The informant was wrong. And daylight is coming.
She heard them. Her preternatural ears picked up the sound of footsteps and, a breath later, a human scent. They came from two different directions and met in front of the Shoppe’s windows. A man who Sanyu recognized as Henry, one of the Sheriff’s police, entered the street on her right. His face was angular, and he had turquoise blue eyes and full lips; his hair fell in soft waves over his forehead. He was dressed in dark trousers and a suitcoat. A red S, outlined in gold, was emblazoned on his breast. The second one, Elise, entered on the left. She was plump and shapely with cropped blond hair and a heart-shaped face. She was dressed in a short skirt, boots, and a belted coat. She stared up at the man with adoring eyes.
Fool. She’s actually fallen in love with him.
Elise reached into her coat pocket, pulled out a scrap of folded paper, and handed it to him. “These are all their names.”
“Thank you, Elise,” Henry said. “Your loyalty will be rewarded.”
Elise inched closer. “I didn’t do it for the money. I did it for you,” she whispered. “I’d do anything for you, Henry―anything.”
Sanyu could hear them as clearly as if she was standing next to them. And she’d heard enough. Her eyes turned gold, the irises split by narrow black bands, and flew down from the branch to land between them. Her movement was only a blur in Elise’s vision.
But Henry saw her.
He was too late. Sanyu shoved the silver dagger into his abdomen and his buzzing screams split the silence. He reverted to his true form: an Adze― covered with hair, his head splitting into two antenna to reveal a hooded skull, a mouth with huge fangs and tiny black eyes— and fell writhing to the ground. Elise screamed and whirled about, fleeing down the narrow street.
With a low growl, Sanyu leapt into the sky and touched down in front of Elise to block her path. She stared into Elise’s green eyes, “Quiet!” she commanded in a velvet contralto. The woman fell silent, staring blankly at the vampire.
Sanyu grabbed the back of Elise’s head and pulled her in a lethal embrace … Clamping her lips onto the woman’s neck, she broke through the soft flesh with her fangs, and drank.
She lifted her mouth and licked her lips. She was still so thirsty. She wanted to drain the woman, but it wouldn’t do for the city inhabitants to find a body drained of blood. It wouldn’t do for them to know they had a vampire living in their midst.
No, that won’t do at all. Sanyu stared into Elise’s eyes once more. “You betrayed your friends― sold your soul to our oppressors. Find a river and drown yourself.” Hopefully, the water would cover the evidence of her crime.
Elise’s lips quivered. But she raced off to do the vampire’s bidding.
Sanyu bent over Henry’s body. She searched his pockets and found the scrap of paper. On it were twenty names of resisters. The vampire wiped her knife clean on his shirt, straightened up and secreted the paper into her bosom. Dawn’s blush was embracing the sky. She didn’t have long.
She gazed down at the Adze for one final moment of satisfaction, Let them try to explain what he is― what he was. That should keep them busy.
Sanyu hurried home.
Her flat was furnished with a black sofa and two matching chairs. A cherrywood bureau pushed against the right wall held clothing and jewelry. Across from this was her cold-box. A framed charcoal sketch of her parents done by her, and two more of her village, graced the bare walls. On the right, two steps led to her bedroom, and a queen-sized bed on a brass frame centered the floor. Sanyu climbed the steps to her bedroom and slid the panel behind her bed open. She secured her dagger on the hooks beside her revolver, stripped down to her underwear, and crawled into bed.
His creatures are everywhere. I killed one tonight, but a dozen more will replace him.
Sheriff John Mackaby ruled Passion, and all of the surrounding cities. His allies kept the rest of North America under their thumbs. And the Adze wore his insignia: the S. These creatures were always beautiful and incredibly strong and fast. The Adze were immune to magic, and their bite could kill vampires. But few knew of their true nature. They sauntered through Passion, disguised in human flesh, wielding the Sheriff’s power, and killing at will to keep folks in line.
Mackaby collected taxes from Passion and his other cities. Business owners, in turn, paid wages that were barely enough to keep folks alive. He ruled through fear, brute force, and by pitting humans against the Others: the magical folk, the fae, the centaurs, and his most hated adversaries … the vampires. Vampires were the only ones who could match the Adze in speed and strength. They were part of the Resistance: a group of humans and Others who’d banded together to overthrow his reign.
If we can survive.
Sanyu dreamed of Africa. Three hundred years ago, she was twenty … standing in the moonlight before the conical homes of her village.
Someone was calling her. His voice was a whisper, his breath caressing her neck.
Danger ... There is danger here!
Suddenly he appeared, a stranger with glowing black skin, his blue eyes hypnotizing her, holding her captive. He extended his hand. She took it ... and her fear was silenced by his cold touch. He pulled her close, drinking from her, then opened a vein in his wrist and pushed it to her lips. Sanyu drank eagerly.
And knew no more.
The next morning her parents found her laying in the doorway, her body nearly drained of blood. They knew, mamma and baba knew, looking at the puncture wounds on her neck that she had been visited by the Mlevi wa dama, the vampyr, the blood drinker who had been preying upon their village. And they knew what she would become. So they hid her sickness from the elders.
Sanyu opened her eyes in the darkness. Mamma and baba had been dead for centuries, but she still missed them, especially in times of turmoil. She reached over and pulled the long velvet cord beside her bed and the curtains slid back to reveal the darkness. Sunlight would cause fatal burns if she was exposed to it for too long without protection. And in the way of the vampire, it was her nature to sleep during the day, and walk the shadows at night.
Sanyu rose, sauntered to her closet, and pulled out a blouse, co
rset and trousers. She dressed and pulled a short sword from inside her closet and clipped it to her waist. Revolvers and other firearms were illegal in Passion, so said the Sheriff’s law, though knives and other weapons were permitted. As long as they weren’t silver. Silver was the only thing that could kill the Adze.
She walked over to her cold-box and opened the wooden door. Inside were jars of water and milk, wrapped bundles of food, and bottles of what looked like wine. They were actually bottles of pig’s blood, supplied by a sympathetic butcher who knew her secret. To the right of her cold-box, in the top cabinet, higher than any human could reach without a ladder (and there was a ladder nearby in case anyone asked) was another corked bottle of blood, left overnight to warm.
I could never stomach the cold stuff.
Sanyu morphed upward, moving faster than the human eye could follow, and hovered in mid-air. She pulled the bottle from the cabinet and touched down. Uncorking the bottle, she lifted it to her lips and drank deeply, draining the bottle in moments. It was warm. Sumptuous. Exquisite … filling the chasm of hunger left over from the previous morning.
But nothing, nothing, could match the thrill of the hunt … the terror in the victim’s eyes … replaced by willing submission … the first touch of lips on a warm neck, the crust of skin broken through like wet earth with her sharp fangs … and finally the geyser of warm blood, human blood, rushing past her lips, her tongue and down her throat. Nothing could replace it. Any of it. Because she fed on pig’s blood, she was always hungry. But it stopped her from attacking a hapless stranger on the street. Sanyu dropped the empty bottle in the wastebin, walked to the door and took a hooded jacket from the peg beside it. She slipped it on and stepped out into the night.
Sanyu walked down the narrow streets of Passion, past the tall slender buildings. A light snow had begun to fall. She came abreast of a bookstore, Tomes and Tales, and stopped for a moment to gaze longingly at the barred windows. To buy a book, she would have to cover every inch of her skin and try to wake a little earlier in the day.
She reached Cold Foamy Suds, the pub where she worked as a bartender, and pulled up short. Two burly men, one red-haired, one with a black shock of hair, were roughing up Timothy, a young fae with burnt umber skin. One of the men had him by the collar and had lifted him so high his toes were brushing the ground. The other one was tormenting Timothy by pulling the fae’s green hair and pointed ears. Timothy was a few months shy of his eighteenth birthday, and hadn’t reached full magical strength yet, or he could have blasted his tormenters into dust.
A crowd had gathered, some shouting at them to leave Timothy be, others yelling, “Kill the freak!”
Phillip, the owner, ran outside. “Hey now! Leave the kid alone!”
“Mind your own friggin’ business,” the red-haired man growled, “or we’ll give you a taste!”
Timothy turned his light brown eyes to Sanyu, wordlessly begging for help.
Damn-it! Walk away! Just walk away! But if she did, Timothy’s eyes would haunt her for a century.
Sanyu pulled her jacket back to reveal her short sword. “Leave him alone,” she said. The red-haired man looked over at her and barked laughter. “You think you can take us with that pig-sticker?”
She stepped in close and laid her hand on the red-haired man’s wrist. If I can just get him to look into my eyes, this’ll be over. “Please let him go,” she said softly, her voice oozing sensuality. “He’s not evil. He’s just different.”
His backhand slap caught her by surprise. It was lighting fast and vicious―drawing blood. She barely felt it. But Sanyu fell back into a crouch to fool the crowd.
Then the thirst kicked in.
Don’t―! It was too late. The violence, the blood, the rage, triggered her vampire nature. Why are they so stupid―so hateful?
Growling, Sanyu blurred forward, grabbed the red-haired man’s head, her other hand gripping his shoulder and sank her fangs into his neck. The onlookers’ screams were a distant roar.
And drank.
Sanyu soared up to the rooftop holding the doomed victim in her arms, so high that no one could drive a stake into her back as she fed. She threw him down on the roof.
“I’m sorry!” he begged. “Please―!”
Sanyu stared down at him with her golden eyes. “You bastard! You exposed me. I could have stayed here for years, but for you and your damn racism!” She fell on him, clamped her lips to his neck once more and drained him. Sanyu lifted her lips and wiped her mouth on his sleeve. Invigorated. Stronger. Feeling more alive than she had in months.
Might as well finish it. In for the penny. In for the pound.
She leapt down and spotted the red-haired man’s partner running through an alley. Sanyu blurred to him and scooped the screaming man up as if he were a child. She locked her eyes on his. “Stop struggling and be quiet!”
He fell silent and limp in her arms. Carrying him, Sanyu raced back to her flat.
Food shouldn’t be wasted.
Sanyu fed again, draining him with no remorse. Because of him, the city would be coming for her, and worse--the Sheriff’s monsters.
She pulled the reinforced shutters down over her windows and bolted the heavy door. She snatched her sketches off the wall and threw them in a duffle bag, along with her clothes. She slid the panel back behind her mattress back and grabbed her revolver and dagger. Sanyu clipped the dagger and revolver to her belt and left the panel open. It would confuse the Adze and buy her some time. There was a pounding at the door and, moments later, the sound of feet kicking it.
They’re here.
In the living area, in the center of the floor, was a myriad-colored rug. Sanyu pushed it aside and lifted a trap door. She jumped down, hovering in midair, slid the rug over the hole, and pushed the door shut. Moments later, the door burst open and twenty men and women, armed with stakes, pushed their way inside. Julius, a willowy Adze with mahogany skin, and Juliette, an Adze with the same flawless black skin and thick hair braided down her back, strolled in behind them. She was only a half-inch shorter than him and, from their resemblance to one another, it was obvious they were twins. Yet the Adze could change their race―even their gender―at will. Their appearance was only one of their many illusions.
Men and women swarmed over Sanyu’s flat, pawing over the belongings she’d left behind, searching for valuables― and fodder for gossip. But the twins were methodical, almost leisurely, as they sauntered through the flat. In her bedroom, they discovered the body of the red-haired man sprawled on her bed, his dead eyes staring upward. Juliette examined his neck and touched his limbs.
“He’s still warm,” she said in a velvet whisper.
“Which means the vampire is close.” Julius replied. They stepped down into the common room.
One man had opened Sanyu’s cold-box. He unwrapped a sandwich and began chewing. He spied one of Sanyu’s bottles of “wine,” shoved the other edibles out of the way with one hand and grabbed a bottle. He finished the sandwich off in one bite, uncorked the bottle and took a swig.
The man grimaced and spat the liquid out. “It’s blood! Filthy night crawler!” He dashed the bottle to the stone floor, and it shattered.
Julius face twisted in anger. “All of you get out!”
The man turned to Julius, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry, sir!”
“Get OUT!” the last word was a roar. They scattered.
Juliette smirked. “You shouldn’t scare the help, brother.”
“They’re idiots,” he said dryly, “and they were trampling all over the evidence.”
Julius walked over to the cold-box, stepping over the glass, and pulled out another bottle. He uncorked it. His mouth narrowed; he opened his now circular mouth and extended a long slender forked tongue into the bottle.
Julius’ tongue retracted, his mouth becoming human once more. “This is pig’s blood.”
“Which means there’s a butcher, who is also a resister, nearby,” Juliette replied.<
br />
“We will deal with him later. Let’s find her.”
Juliette discarded a blouse she was sniffing, her eyes drawn to the twisted rug on the floor. She walked over and pushed it aside with her foot to reveal the trap door. The Adze smiled. “Ah, what do we have here?”
Sanyu raced through the tunnels, heading for the next way station. It was good that she had fed from humans. She would need all her strength for the road ahead.
Julius appeared in front of her, Juliette behind her.
“There is nowhere for you to run, night crawler!” Julius hissed. “The alarm has been sounded!” All semblance of his humanity vanished. His head split, and an oval with tiny purple eyes and a puckered round mouth emerged from his shoulders. On either side of his neck, the halves of his faux human head floated and twisted.
Behind her, Juliette leaned in so close Sanyu could smell her rancid breath. They knew the vampire couldn’t drink from them. Ichor, not blood, flowed through their veins. And it was deadly to her kind.
“Come quietly,” Juliette breathed in her ear, “and we won’t hurt you,”
Lies. All lies.
She would be tortured until she spilled all her truths and later burned alive. Sanyu morphed backwards, catching them off guard. The hand holding a revolver, loaded with silver bullets, blurred from under her jacket. In the next instant, a blackened hole appeared in Julius’ chest. He screamed in a piercing insectile shriek, his cries rising with Juliette’s, and collapsed.
“Brother―! You filthy bloodsucker!” Juliette’s grief and rage made her careless. She charged Sanyu, fangs bared.
Sanyu fired again and Juliette fell forward― pulling both of them to the stone floor. Sanyu pushed the dying Adze aside before Juliette’s deadly ichor spilled on her. It would burn through her clothes and skin.
