by Declan Finn
Murphy’s Law of Vampires
By
Declan Finn
Printed in the United States of America Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights Worldwide English Language Print Rights
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distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.
If you try to duplicate this for any other purpose, it will end badly for you, do we understand each other? If you don’t believe me, try it. You, me and the FBI can all have a nice chat.
Copywright: Declan Finn, 2016
Cover art: Dawn Witzke
All rights reserved 2016
Also by Declan Finn (In Order):
NONFICTION
For All Their Wars are Merry: An Examination of IRA Songs
Pius History: The Facts Behind the Pius Trilogy
FICTION
Codename: Winterborn (with Allan Yoskowitz)
It Was Only On Stun!
A Pius Man
A Pius Legacy
A Pius Stand
Pius Holidays (Kindle Only)
Pius Origins (Kindle Only)
Pius Tales (Collects Pius Holidays, and Pius Origins)
Honor at Stake (Love At First Bite – Book 1)
Murphy’s Law of Vampires (Love At First Bite – Book 2)
Coming Soon:
Set to Kill
Live and Let Bite (Love At First Bite – Book 3)
For all the readers, who make it all worth it.
Prologue
April 16th, 2:15AM. Greenpoint, Brooklyn, NY
Amanda Colt was dead, and Marco Catalano looked like he had been through a war.
Both were was technically true. The battle for Mount Olivet and for Greenpoint had been surprisingly quick affairs, but had left hundreds if not thousands dead on the streets of New York City. It helped with the cleanup that most of those who died had already been dead – namely, vampires.
Amanda Colt was a vampire, and thus already dead – but she looked more dead than usual when she came flying back through the air, impacting on the Brooklyn street with a sick sound that was a cross between a splat and a crunch.
Marco, despite having had his left leg and his right arm broken by Mikhail the Bear in single combat, tried to move towards her fallen form. After a brief effort, he growled deep in his throat. “Damnit. Merle, check her pulse.”
The Eurasian government agent still had his weapon up, but whatever it was had vanished. “Pulse?” he asked, confused.
Marco felt his pulse spike. There wasn’t time to explain this!
Amanda bounced off the ground, her face a mask of rage and fangs, shouting in rage at the rooftop. “The suki tossed me! That… I’ll get you for this!”
Merle raised a brow and holstered his gun. “She’s too far to hear you.”
“I can hear gun fire from the Bronx. Trust me, she hears.” She turned to Marco, and carefully rolled him over onto his back. She cradled his head in her lap.
Marco closed his eyes, and just enjoyed the feel of her body heat through her jeans. Before I met her, If someone had told me that body temp was the perfect surface to rest on, I would have told them they were mad.
“I think we can heal this,” Amanda said, in her cute Russian accent. “But I’ll need to set the bone, okay?”
Marco gave it a moment’s thought. The microbes in her bite would help him heal the breaks in a matter of days, if not hours, but it was still going to hurt like a bastard. “Sure, why not?”
The door to the brownstone opened, and Marco’s father, Doctor Robert Catalano, came out, with the Vatican Ninja and sniper, Ibrahim Javaherian, at his side.
“I’ll do the setting,” Robert said, “if you don’t mind.”
Merle sighed. The government agent who specialized in odd seemed impatient. “Whatever. Well, it looks like my lead is dead, in more ways than one. Marco, why did you want me to check Amanda for a pulse? Habit?”
Amanda smiled brightly – Damn, Marco thought, I would kill for that smile – and she said, “Nyet. I have a pulse. I also have a fully-working metabolism. My body doesn’t need to pump blood, but I have it do so, mainly to keep everything working. I may want to have children some day.”
Merle gave a smirk. Marco tried to read it, but couldn’t. “You need food?”
Amanda: “At least blood. I don’t know why, but we need it. I tried going without, it’s not a pretty sight.”
Marco nodded, completely ignoring his father examining his broken leg. “I think it’s a version of porphyria, mixed with a touch of inverse progeria.”
Merle arched a brow. “In English?”
“Progeria is a disease that makes someone age at four times the normal rate of speed; ten-year-olds looking like they’re forty, and physically, they are.”
With a quick pull from Doctor Catalano, Marco screamed. It was almost more of a surprise than anything else. He had been so focused on the conversation, he felt more an echo of pain than anything else. Marco gritted his teeth. “Porphyria is what King George III had, driving him insane—a cure for that is the ingestion of human blood, which is where part of the myth of vampirism comes from. We figure that the microbial symbiotes that are responsible for vampirism somehow feed off of fresh, living blood, like porphyria.”
“However, there’s her ability to elongate her teeth,” Marco added. “It really irritates me, because she always has an unfair advantage at bobbing for apples.”
The vampire brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. “I do not know what you’re talking about. I would never use them for such a thing.”
“Then how come you always need to floss out your canines for the next week afterwards?” he objected. His father had his arm and pulled. Marco screamed again.
“I suck out the filling from some of the chocolates,” Amanda continued, as though Marco had just had his back cracked by a masseuse, not his bones set. “It is either that, or I eat diabetics for dessert, and you remember what happened to old Tiberius when he drank from too many.”
“Yeah, his teeth rotted out. He should’ve known better than to drink people with too high a blood sugar without brushing.” Doctor Catalano gave a quick pull at Marco’s arm, setting the break. Marco grimaced and gritted his teeth this time, despite the pain. “Just because he’s dead doesn’t mean he can forgo the basics.”
Merle snickered at the surrealism of it all. “So, Amanda, since you are who you eat, whom do you generally eat?”
Marco and Amanda looked at each other for a moment. “I sometimes give donations,” he explained. “The rest of the time…you can answer it.”
“I go to mass.”
“And?”
“Since I mentioned that our physical character is related to our spiritual character, I go frequently. I think I may qualify as a mystic, but I’m not sure, I haven’t asked my confessor about this. Technically, that makes me stronger, so I can go without real blood for a week or two.”
“And?”
“I get most of my blood from the Sacred Blood in the chalice at mass. I’m usually the last one up, so I finish the cup.”
Merle looked out over at the gang members, the Mafia, the cops, and the Vatican ninjas, who all seemed interested in making certain no one had been eaten during the fracas. “What about them? I can assume they didn’t know about your girlfriend before now, did they?”
“I’ll talk to them,” Marco said, eyes cold.
“If any of them decide to do something unwise, I will know, and they will answer to me.”
Merle studied Marco a moment. Despite being beaten, bruised, and broken, he still had the distinct impression that he would, indeed, hunt down anyone who took an action against Amanda. He would protect her, anywhere, anytime, no matter his condition.
“Fair enough.” He glanced at the ground where Mikhail used to be. “I guess this is all over then.”
Marco let out a sharp, sudden laugh. “You’re kidding right?”
Merle motioned to the street littered with empty clothes and dusted vampires. “You call this…what?”
Marco tried to sit up, but Amanda pressed down on his shoulders to hold him in place. “Do not move.”
Marco sighed, then looked at Merle. “I call this a retaliatory strike. This isn’t over. Obviously, Mikhail didn’t like us messing up his most ambitious nesting plans, slowing him down and cutting into his personnel. He went after the FBI, and when we made a move on him, he struck back.”
“Yes,” Merle concluded, “but if he was being slowed down, that means that he was building up to something.”
Marco smiled. “Give the man a cigar. Whatever they were doing at the United Nations, whatever you were looking into, Mikhail was in charge of manpower.”
“What?”
Amanda cut in. “We just killed the head of human resources. We have no idea who that redhead was that killed Mikhail just when he was about to talk.”
Merle’s mouth twitched. “Aw hell. You’re saying this is just starting.”
“You’re not the one in pieces on the ground,” Marco muttered. “Now, if you don’t mind, I think Amanda and I can use some alone time.”
Merle arched a brow. So did Doctor Catalano, and so did Ibrahim Javaherian.
Marco frowned and looked at all of them. “Get your minds out of the gutter. If she bites me, I get a hit of her virus. The first time she bit me, I could throw manhole covers. We can see if this will fix me up.”
Amanda carefully moved, then picked up Marco as though he weighed about twenty pounds. “Do not worry. I will be happy to bite you.”
Marco smiled at the words, considering how they probably sounded to everyone else within earshot. He settled on his right leg, and wrapped his good arm around her shoulders. She supported nearly all of his weight. They exchanged a glance, and Marco felt his heart skip a beat.
“You know what?” Merle said, breaking the moment. “I could use a guy on my coast to organize a team in case I have problems in San Francisco. You seem pretty settled here, but how about we bring you out to my neck of the woods and see what you can do out there? It would be on me. Well, the federal government, anyway. I mean your college education, room, board, expense account, stipend, everything.”
Marco blinked back his surprise. Going to California, this time last year, would have meant nothing to him. But on what was essentially a government grant? Hell yes. It wasn’t like people would miss him. The gangs? Their leaders, Hector and Zeng? They were more afraid of him than anything else. His father always wanted him to get out more. There was nothing in the entire world that would keep him from going to California. Not one damn thing…except Amanda.
Amanda, who he couldn’t figure out. Who he couldn’t decide what to do with. Who he couldn’t even think about without his brain getting jammed up. He didn’t know what he wanted from her. Even worse, he didn’t know if she wanted something from him, something he couldn’t give.
Marco’s deepest, darkest secret was something that he could never tell Amanda. She had known his incident with the mugger–the violent mugging that had driven a wedge in between him and Lily Sparks, the wedge that would eventually lead to Lily’s death–but Amanda didn’t know the whole truth. Marco’s “secret” was in that mugging. When that mugger had pulled a knife on Lily and Marco, Marco had taken the knife away from him. Then Marco hurt him. And kept on hurting him. He kept cutting with the knife until there was nothing left of the mugger but a pale corpse rapidly approaching room temperature. That part, Amanda knew.
But Marco enjoyed it. He had enjoyed taking a man who wanted to harm someone he loved, and then hurting him. He enjoyed being alive when the mugger was good and dead. He enjoyed the man’s screams of anguish as Marco made him pay for the mistake of mugging him and someone he cared for.
Marco knew what was in his head. He was someone who enjoyed killing. He was a monster. A predator. Yes, even though Marco had a deep faith, and a deeper prayer life, both served to keep the creature within him in check. In the end, one of two things drove Mikhail from his mind. One was the prayer and his faith. But Marco knew, deep in his heart, that his dark side had driven Mikhail out of his head and saved his life. It was a part of him he was comfortable with, that he enjoyed, and that he didn’t want to give up.
It was something that he couldn’t tell anyone about. It was why he couldn’t be with Amanda. She killed human beings for food. He did it for fun.
As he had his arm around her, he felt her warmth right next to him. Enjoying the feel of her body, the feel of her strength, Marco couldn’t help thinking the worst possible thing.
The predator had thoughts on Amanda. I love her. And I want… her. All of her. And I don’t think I can hide it too much longer. I won’t be able to hide it at all if she moves the wrong way on my body right now.
He looked at Merle and said, “I’ll think about it.”
* * * *
Amanda felt like someone was slowly ripping out her heart. When Merle Kraft first asked about San Francisco, she was about to laugh… until she realized that Marco had said nothing for a long moment. Then he said he’d think about it.
When they both made it into the sitting room, Amanda helped lay him out on the couch. “You aren’t serious, are you?” she asked.
Marco didn’t say anything for a moment. “He could be right,” he said absently. “He could need help.”
She blinked back tears. “You mean that?”
“Oh, maybe. I don’t know.” He met her eyes. “It’s a thought. One thing at a time, though. We don’t even know if he has a vampire problem in San Francisco.”
Marco cocked his head to one side, and she nodded. She leaned forward and kissed his neck. She gave a light lick where the bite would go. It was strange. She even liked the way his skin tasted. How odd was that?
Amanda kissed his neck a second time, and then a third. Marco shifted a little, as though suddenly uncomfortable. Then she realized that she was doing more kissing than biting. If she kept going like this, she would be exchanging more bodily fluids with Marco than just some blood and saliva.
What am I doing? He’s broken on the couch, and all I can think of is taking advantage of him. Amanda’s fangs came out, and she bit him quickly, hoping to distract him from the kisses.
This time, she was far too distracted by her own thoughts to dwell on the sensation of biting Marco. Her feelings were obviously starting to bubble towards the surface at some truly inappropriate moments. What that would mean, she didn’t want to think about. Coming clean to Marco about her feelings was possibly the worst idea she could come up with. Truly, why would he want to be associated with her after that? Should she do that to him, all she could see were potential problems.
By the time she had withdrawn her fangs, she had come to a conclusion.
She loved him too much to keep him here.
“Maybe you should go to San Francisco.”
“Maybe.” He looked deep into her eyes and said, “But for now, I’m quite happy to be here with you.”
Then her phone rang.
Amanda and Marco started. She pulled out her phone, looked at the number, and said, “Huh.”
“Unknown?” he asked.
“Nyet. It is the VA.”
“The Veteran’s Association?”
She shook her head. “Vampires Association. Shh.”
She put the phone on speaker, said her name, and the voice at the other end answered. �
��Miss Amanda Colt, this is Jagi Witzke, administrative assistant for President Bosley of the NYC-VA. Your presence is requested at our next meeting. There have been a few complaints launched against you that must be addressed.”
The two of them exchanged a look. “Such as?” she asked.
“The destruction of several pieces of vampire property, as well as assaulting other vampires. And using your minion as a weapon.”
Marco cocked his head, looking at her with amusement. He mouthed “Minion?”
“I’ll be there,” Amanda answered.
“Thank you. You know the time and location?”
“I do. I get the email newsletter.”
“Thank you. We still have members who don’t know what email is. See you there.”
Amanda hung up. Marco’s eyes narrowed. “So will the ninjas.”
She shook her head. “No reason for that.”
“We’ve blown up how many bars?”
“Only about three.”
“And how many vampires have we killed? In the last six hours alone?”
Amanda winced. “We’ll talk with Hendershot.”
“Can we talk with Bram? I like him better.”
Chapter 1: Physical Therapy
April 26th, 9 PM, Greenpoint, Brooklyn
Marco didn’t think about Amanda. He had to make certain he didn’t think about Amanda. Because if he did, he would probably fall into his thoughts and never fall out. After all, he wasn’t easy to love, and didn’t do much loving himself. He even surprised to himself how deeply he fell into love once he was there.
And there was just so much to focus on. She fought like a professional, but as intimidating as a chipmunk. And as sexy as the one that got away—yes, that one—only better looking. Her 5’6” height made her a perfect fit when he hugged her, and her long red-gold hair went to the small of her back in a golden fall – he just wanted to run his fingers through it.
Though with my luck, he thought, I’d find the only knots in her hair and pull them out.
