An Angel Among Vampires

by M. Cheykota

  “Well crap. I hate time limits on jobs. They better be lucky the check already cleared.” I sigh as I remember how busy I am going to be over the next couple of days. I close the file after a final glimpse of Christien’s photo and put it on the bedside table. Exhausted, I climb under the covers naked, leaving my robe at the end of the bed and fall asleep within minutes.

  Chapter 15

  The incessant buzzing sound from my alarm clock is grating on my last nerve. I slam my fist down on the clock, willing to do anything to get the noise to stop. Bits and pieces of the alarm clock scatter all over my wooden floor. “Shit.” I groan aloud and sit up.

  There goes another alarm clock.

  I check the clock on the wall to make sure I am not late for my lunch meeting and am relieved to see it is only 10:30am. I guess I should have reset the alarm before going to bed. I lean over the side of the bed, open the nightstand drawer and pull out a new alarm clock from the small stash I have. I plug it in, set the time and the alarm.

  After cleaning up the mess off the floor, slamming down two bags of blood, and getting dressed, I leave my house heading to the restaurant to meet my potential client.

  I always arrive at the meeting place early so I can scope the place, even if I am already familiar with the location. Never know what might have changed since the last time I have been there. I also never go to meet a new client without being heavily armed.

  The royal blue, micro fiber designer t-shirt I am wearing nicely hides my custom-made, eight-inch silver daggers in their custom-made sheaths that run along each side of my body under my arms. The hilts of the daggers are near my waist, inverted for easy access. Only a clasp keeps them attached to their sheaths until needed. Small, four-inch knives are snug against the underside of my wrists by what looks like gold bangles. My jeans conceal the modified 6 inch, Glock 33 pistol with .357 SIG silver bullets snug at my ankle. The two stakes woven through my freshly French braided hair also serves the purpose of holding my thick hair back out of my face. I drive my black Mercedes SL 65 AMG to the deli and park a block away, keeping my vehicle out of sight of the deli.

  It is 11:30 am when I start my first circle around the deli. I check the alleys and rooftops for anyone looking to get a lucky shot. So far, everything looks good.

  The familiar sight of the men and women meeting up for lunch and the sounds of the construction crew down the street is settling my anxious nerves.

  The combination of the smells from Luigi’s deli and the nearby Starbucks has my stomach really getting mad at me for skipping breakfast.

  I scan the crowd as I enter the deli. I see a few people I consider regulars by how frequent they visit, but everyone else seems to be waiting in line to place or pick-up their orders. I make my way to the counter and wave at Maria, Luigi’s wife.

  “Hey Jess! I’ll bring something out for you in a few minutes.” Maria calls out to me.

  “Thanks.” I call back and walk back outside to the deli tables. I see my favorite table that allows my back to lean against the wall without blocking my view of the street and I enter the minds of the three women sitting there. I give them each the suggestion to go to Starbucks. They all stand at once, grab their stuff, and shuffle their way down to the busy coffee shop.

  I straighten up the table and sit, waiting for my lunch guest. I do not have to wait long.

  As I am munching on my perfect turkey sandwich that Maria brought out to me minutes before, I pretend to admire the outdoor surroundings, when I see a short man with a potbelly staring right at me as he comes towards my table. He is wearing an expensive suit, definitely not off the rack, with the suit jacket, carrying a brown leather suitcase. He has what looks like a white handkerchief in his right hand that he keeps using to wipe the sweat dripping from his flushed face.

  After a final glance around for any surprises, I settle in my seat. He approaches my table, since I am the only person sitting alone and stops behind the chair directly across from me. “Are you waiting for me?”

  Instead of answering his obvious question, I roll my eyes in irritation. “Sit down so we can get this over with.” He nods and just about collapses into the chair in front of him. He starts looking around nervously.

  I realize then he is an amateur. Not the normal type of clientele I am used to working with. As long as he has my money and is not a complete idiot, I will work with him. Many other professionals like me do not like dealing with amateurs, too many mistakes and too risky that they could flip and rat us out. I don’t usually worry about that too much. I can enter the minds of the amateurs and tell them to forget me when the job is complete. There is no risk for me to work with an amateur.

  I look at the man in front of me and clear my throat, snapping his attention back to me. “Relax man. Do you have something for me?”

  He fumbles with his briefcase by his side and finally brings it up to the table, nearly knocking over my drink.

  I steady my drink, roll my eyes and inwardly groan to myself.

  The man pulls out a brown packet, about half an inch thick, with shaky fingers.

  I take the packet from him. “Are you sure this is what you want? I can’t fix this if you change your mind later.”

  He nods several times and audibly answers. “Yes.”

  I nod and hand him a card with one of my local bank account numbers on the front with my fee on the back. He takes the card, sees the account number on the front, flips it over and notices my fee on the back. It doesn’t surprise me to see his eyes widen a little in disbelief, but he keeps his mouth shut and just nods his approval.

  “I require half the money before and half after. Make the deposit in cash. No wire transfers.” I state plainly.

  “Okay.” He squeaks in reply.

  “Is there a time constraint for this?” I ask, thinking about the time constraint for the job with Christien. The last thing I need is two jobs that have time constrictions.

  “All the information you need is in there.” He points at the packet, grabs his briefcase, and leaves in the same direction he came. Right before he leaves, I enter his mind and make him forget what I look like.

  I put my trash in the bin and go back inside the deli. Maria is standing at the cash register. I pay her for my lunch and put a fifty-dollar bill in the tip jar before walking back to my car. I check my car for explosives before getting in.

  I drive to a parking garage nearby before stopping to open the packet. A picture of an older looking blonde woman falls onto my lap. The picture looks like she was at one of those glamorous, fundraising events because the woman is wearing Oscar de la Renta and has on too much jewelry. The jewelry is probably worth enough to feed a small country for a year.

  I toss the picture in the seat next to me and skim over the contract. The woman in the picture, his wife, caught him cheating and she wants a divorce. High profile, lots of money involved, custody battle, blah, blah, blah. It sounds like he can pay my fee. That is all that matters to me.

  I read on and the client is requesting a natural type of death so he can collect the life insurance money as her sole beneficiary.

  “Greed at it’s finest.” I mutter to myself.

  I prefer clean and quick methods with no bodies. Since he wants the body found, I will have to make sure all my tracks are thoroughly covered. I will also have to do some research on the woman. Maybe she has a medical allergy I can exploit.

  Since I do not have to meet up with Tyler for a few more hours, I might as well start researching her case now. I put all the information back together neatly into the packet and toss it on the floor next to Christien’s packet I created last night. I pull out my laptop from the backseat and log into the web using my wireless air card.

  I check my local bank account first and see the large deposit from my most recent new client has put into the account already.

  He must have gone straight to the bank after he left our meeting.

  I transfer the funds via wire transfer to my offshore accou
nt in the Cayman Islands.

  An hour later, my research on the old, rich woman is complete. Medical records show that she has a severe allergy to shellfish requiring her to carry an epinephrine injection pen in case of an accidental ingestion. I access her personal assistant’s calendar to find that the woman has dinner plans with friends at 8:00 pm tomorrow night at an expensive new restaurant in town called Pierre. I start my sweeping program and put away my laptop.

  Chapter 16

  Cooped up in my car researching for the past couple hours have stiffened my muscles and I feel like a drink. Blixen is on the way to IHOP so I decide to stop there for a drink. Maybe Samuel will be there and available for a quickie before I have to go meet up with Tyler.

  After checking my surroundings like usual, I enter the familiar club and walk straight to the bar. The Werebear Henri is bartending as Mack finishes the setup for tonight.

  “Hey Mack, Sup’ Henri.” I call out to them as I approach.

  “Well, well. The wicked bitch of the west has decided to grace us with her presence.” Henri teases as he picks up a wine glass and polishes it with a white cloth from his shoulder.

  “It’s good to see you too Henri.” I smile back at him. “Think I can get a Spicy O?”

  “No problem.” He smiles and walks into the freezer behind the bar.

  I take that moment to glance around at the empty club. Lainie sees me sitting at the bar. Excusing herself from the rich, blonde man she is sitting with, she comes over to greet me. Henri sits my drink in front of me and goes back to helping Mack clean wine glasses.

  “You’re here early.” She says cheerfully.

  “I’m not staying. I just stopped in for a drink.”

  She eyes my drink and wrinkles her nose. “Why don’t you just use a donor? I’ve heard it is much more fun for your kind.”

  “No thanks.” I reply, sipping my drink.

  “Suit yourself. Oh yeah! That hottie you asked me about last night, his name is Christien. I hear he is from France originally. He is loaded, but is not into the high rollers scene. I’m told he’s a ruthless prick that has no honor, but the guy I was talking to seemed to be acting like a jealous twit so I wouldn’t take too much stock into that last part.”

  “Did he say anything about why he’s here in Phoenix? This is not exactly a very desirable place for vampires, especially the older ones. They tend to like milder weather.” I ask her curiously.

  “I asked, but he didn’t say. He just kept ranting about vamps with no honor or loyalty. Stuff like that.”

  “Who did you talk to?”

  “Some vamp that I saw going over to him last night after you left. He seemed to know him. And before you start whining, I was being careful and discrete.” Lainie says mockingly.

  “Good, if you see that vamp again, point him out to me. I’d like to talk to him myself.” I finish the rest of my drink.

  “Okay.”

  As I am getting up to leave, she stops me with her words. “If you ever need a donor, I’ve been told my blood packs quite a punch.”

  I stare at her incredulously then question her brusquely. “You want me to feed on you?”

  “Sure, why not? I heard you have some kind of squeamishness towards live donors, so I thought it might be easier for you if it was someone you know.” She states sincerely.

  A vampire naturally likes to feed from live donors. It tastes better and it is usually more enjoyable. Therefore, when Lainie offered herself as a donor to me, I couldn’t stop my fangs from lowering or prevent my mouth from watering in temptation. Just the thought of feeding on her sends a tingling sensation through my body, raising my blood thirst, even though I just had blood.

  I still my body, as only a vampire can truly do. My eyes narrow, zeroing in on that pulsing vein in her neck. I can practically see the blood under her pale skin. I know my eyes must be glowing with the silver streaks from my blood thirst rising.

  Before I even realize I am moving, my hands caress her neck and my mouth is less than a few inches from the vein in her neck. My eyes now have the silvery haze vampires get when they are craving blood.

  I snap back to myself long enough to push Lainie away from me. She stumbles back a few feet before she is able to catch herself.

  Closing my eyes, I turn away from her. Moments pass before I can hear anything besides the rushing sound of her blood and the pounding rhythm of her heartbeat.

  Without thinking, I pull one of the small knives on my wrist out and stab myself in the arm using pain as a distraction to my bloodlust. I hear Lainie let out a small scream behind me. She tries to move closer to me.

  “Stay back!” I order her.

  The burning sensation that accompanies silver in my body is a welcome feeling. The pain chases away the thirst for blood. I remove the knife and clean it off with a napkin from a nearby table.

  I open my eyes to see a young looking vampire with dark brown hair and silver hazed eyes staring at my arm.

  “Oh Shit!” I shout in alarm.

  My blood is like crack for vampires. I am glad that he is the only vampire at Blixen right now. If it were nighttime, I would really be in a lot of trouble. Either way, he’s old enough to be a day walking vampire or he stayed at the bar last night and is old enough to be awake during the day. Neither option is comforting.

  Blood has stopped flowing from my arm and my skin has already healed. The wound was not that deep and since I just fed, I healed faster than I normally would.

  The vampire looks at the small drops of blood on the floor and takes a deep breath.

  “Lainie, grab me a towel soaked with bleach now!” I command her, hoping she’s still under my mind control.

  “No!” The young vampire shouts as he lunges for me.

  I jump kick him in the chest. The impact rockets up my leg and knocks him back only a few feet. The kick does not even cause him to pause. He barrels forward towards me again, fangs snapping and I spin at the last moment, grabbing his outstretched arm, swinging it up behind him.

  Just because a vampire has super speed and strength doesn’t mean they all know how to use it.

  Lainie reappears with a towel soaked with bleach as I am trying to control the blood-crazed vampire. I command her to clean my blood off the floor, knife and my arm with the bleach soaked towel.

  I twist the vampire’s neck quickly, breaking it, and hold him down while Lainie makes quick work of cleaning up my blood. The vampire below me must have fed recently because he is healing quickly from the broken neck. He starts squirming below me, trying to get free.

  The scent of my blood is extremely weak in the air now. The strong chemicals in the bleach overpower the scent of my blood. With everything clean of my blood and the scent gone from the air, the vampire’s blood haze subsides and his body relaxes. I climb off his body, grab the towel from Lainie and walk to the sink behind the bar.

  Everyone, including the vampire now sitting on the floor, is staring at me. I ignore them and wash out the bleach smelling rag.

  Lainie breaks the silence. “What the hell was that about?”

  Shrugging, I wave off her question. “It’s nothing. Forget about it.”

  Movement around the room indicates everyone is going back to their business except Lainie, who is still watching me.

  The vampire apologizes to me for his loss of control, unsure of why he attacked me to begin with.

  I quickly accept his apology, asking him to forget the misunderstanding and turn away from him hoping he’ll forget what I look like.

  Feeling embarrassed by his behavior, he eagerly agrees and returns to his table across the room.

  Trying to be nonchalant about the whole episode, I thank Henri for the use of the rag by leaving a huge tip on the bar. The time on the clock over the bar says 5:30 pm.

  I had better get moving or I am going to be late for my meeting with Tyler.

  As I move towards the front door, Lainie grabs my shoulder, spinning me around to face her. I immediatel
y capture her mind through her gaze, clear the doubts and confusion from her mind then walk out the door.

  Chapter 17

  After a dash home for a shower and change of clothes, I pull into the lot at IHOP with less than 5 minutes to spare. Tyler knows how crazy I am about my safety, so when I see him sitting in a corner booth with some nerdy looking kid, a smile touches my lips at his thoughtfulness.

  I stroll casually into the IHOP, waving off the host and make my way to their booth. Tyler looks up, sees me, and smiles brightly. I sit in the only remaining space available in the corner booth beside Tyler and take my first good look at his friend.

  The young man looks younger than Tyler and me. He has white blonde hair, pasty white skin with several acne marks on his face. His eyes are a pale blue so light, they almost make his eyes look colorless. His eyelashes are light, nearly invisible against his paper white skin. He’s wearing a wrinkled t-shirt of a band I’ve never heard of. He is boney, thinner than Tyler who I thought was thinner than he should be for someone his size.

  His friend returns my appraisal with enthusiasm. He gives me a quick once over assessing me, then on his second glance, stops on my overly exposed cleavage. His eyes shoot from my cleavage to my face then back to my chest.

  Tyler makes the introductions. “Mike, this is Jessica. Jessica, Mike.”

  While Mike is still fighting to keep his eyes off my chest, I lean forward over the table and stretch my hand outward to shake his, practically spilling my large breasts onto the table and flaunting the hot pink satin bra I am wearing. Mike’s tongue nearly touches the table, but he recovers enough to take my hand for a fast shake, dropping it quickly and sits back down with his hands in his lap.