Gates of Eden: Starter Library

by Theophilus Monroe

  “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

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  Book 2 - Bat Shift Crazy

  WITH A SWIFT back kick, my stiletto heel pierced one vampire's heart as I fired my crossbow, striking another one in the chest with a bolt.

  Two down. Three to go.

  I pulled my foot out of my shoe, leaving the heal in the vampire's chest. I kicked off my second one. It's about impossible to maintain balance in one nine-inch heel. The sun-baked pavement of the parking lot seared the bottoms of my feet.

  Devin quickly fired flames from his fingertips into the first vampire's chest wound, charring my shoe.

  "Damnit, Devin. Those are thousand-dollar Saint Laurents!"

  "Shit," Devin said. "Sorry about that."

  "Whatever," I said. "Finish off the other one."

  Devin nodded and, running toward the other vampire's staked body, burned out his heart in like fashion.

  Another vampire, using his enhanced speed, charged Devin from behind. The bloodsucker was quick. But I was faster. I pointed my crossbow and fired, nailing the vampire through his back and into his heart.

  The vampire face-planted on the pavement.

  Devin turned. "Nice shot."

  "Thanks!" I said, smirking.

  "There were five of them," Devin said. "Where'd the other two go?"

  I shrugged. "I think they ran away."

  "Chicken shits," Devin said as he kicked the vampire over onto its back and, with his gutting knife—the same kind hunters used to remove the organs from a slain deer—opened up the vampire's chest before firing a ball of fire into the wound. Having a warlock as a boyfriend and hunting partner had its advantages. We each had our strengths. I staked 'em. Devin baked 'em.

  Devin lifted his right hand to his face and blew away the smoke from his smoldering fin
gertips. Then, he wiped the blood from his hand onto his jeans. "Sucks when you stake them from behind."

  "Beggars can't be choosers," I said. "Would you prefer I waited for a clean shot?"

  Devin chuckled. "No, I suppose getting a little blood on my hands is preferable to being bitten."

  "Well, at least we got that out of the way before people started showing up for the show."

  "I might have to run home and change before the show," Devin said. "I don't think blood stains are in this season."

  "Nasty vamps. Why can't they just let you stake them clean?"

  "Rude, right?" Devin chuckled.

  "More vampires from the catacombs, you think?" Devin asked.

  "I don't think so. These vamps were sloppy. Younglings, most likely. But I'd imagine they were sent by the catacomb vamps. Alice told us they'd come looking for her."

  Alice used to be one of the nightwalkers, vampires turned and used by the Order of the Morning Dawn to aid in their mission to eliminate other vampires and witches. Predictably, the Order itself had been infiltrated by another vampire, Wolfgang, who had the power of compulsion. It was an inevitability. Only a matter of time before the vamps they'd used got wise to the whole scheme and turned against them.

  The Order had kept dozens of vampires in catacombs beneath an old church used for their ceremonies. We'd unstaked several of them to cause a distraction when we were trying to take out a much older, dangerous vampire. Then, Mina, one of the Order's leaders, unstaked the rest, knowing they'd come after Alice. After all, as a nightwalker, Alice put most of them there. It took us by surprise. When I first met Mina, she was in a circle of other old ladies crocheting sweaters and blankets. But she'd been hunting vampires her whole life. Appearances can be deceiving. I underestimated her.

  Alice rallied some of the vampires we'd unstaked, those who didn't have a grudge against her and went south to New Orleans to meet up with the Vampire Council. Alice had visions of reform, recasting vampires not as monsters but as humanity's knights and protectors. The Vampire Council may entertain the idea, but she had an uphill battle convincing vampire kind in general. Most vampires look at humans the way people look at cattle. The case Alice hoped to make would fall on deaf ears as quickly as an animal rights activist trying to convince a butcher to go vegan, for the sake of allowing cattle to live fuller lives. Most vampires wouldn't bite—pun intended—on Alice's proposition. Nonetheless, her vision was laudable. Even if unachievable. Who knows. Maybe she'd prove me wrong. I hoped she would.

  We needed to get these vampire bodies inside. With their hearts burned out, the vampire corpses Devin and I took down were already starting to wither. Still, they wouldn't totally decompose before people started arriving for my nightly show. If we waited much longer, hauling them inside would be a mess—limbs falling off, organs falling out, splattering on the parking lot and sidewalk, etcetera. Body parts in the parking lot aren't generally great for business.

  We dragged the bodies into the club. One of them lost a leg on the way, but, all in all, it wasn't as messy as it could have been. My club was called Nicky's, named after yours truly. It wasn't your run-of-the-mill nightclub. Until recently, Alice had run the place as a funeral home. When she left, she gave the building. Her way, I suppose, of making amends for the fact she was the one who'd attacked me, who stole my shapeshifting abilities as an elemental, and trapped me in a human form—and in a male form, no less. Still, my old resentments aside, I couldn't deny the fact she'd had a change of heart. Insofar as vampire hearts are capable of anything other than being staked and burned.

  The advantage of the situation was Nicky's still had a small crematory in the basement. Convenient for getting rid of vampire bodies. At first, we didn't bother burning out their hearts. Usually, the whole cremation process would take care of it.

  But not always. The last time we put a staked vampire body in there, the stake burned up before the flames reached the vampire's heart. He blasted through the furnace door and leaped out of it in a fiery rage. I was lucky he didn't catch the whole club on fire. Needless to say, we finished him off quickly. Still, not a mistake I was eager to repeat. Better to burn out their hearts before disposing of their bodies.

  Devin and I tossed the vampire bodies, one by one, into the furnace and turned it on. The smoke pouring out of the chimney, I hoped, wouldn't draw too much attention. If anyone asked, I'd probably reply, "Habemus Papum! We have a pope!"

  If they didn't buy it, I'd say we were burning our trash. Hopefully, no one would bother to investigate further. We usually only ran the crematory at night. Less chance of raising any unnecessary suspicions. This time, though, I had a show to get to. And as awful as vampires smell when they're still animated, they're a thousand times worse when decomposing. Bad enough the humans who came to my show would surely notice.

  For the first time since I'd taken human form, I had a place where I could perform every night. It was much better than my old gig at Leotards and Lace, a gay club downtown. I used to perform there a couple times a week. Plus, I used to work there as a janitor to earn enough money to cover my rent and motorcycle payments. Now, with my own club, I didn't need another job. I could take the stage every night if I wanted, and my show was so popular we sold out every night.

  I was rolling in the dough.

  Good thing since I had a pair of Saint Laurents to replace. Not the first time I'd ruined a pair of designer stilettos by using my heel as a stake.

  I'd have to resort to my Jimmy Choo stiletto boots for the night's show. They were my go-to pair in a pinch.

  I gave Devin a kiss on the cheek before, draping a blanket over the seat of his Subaru Impreza before getting in so he could go home to clean up. It was a thirty-minute drive each way, plus, he'd need a good half-hour to primp. He'd probably miss my opening number. But he'd be there for the finale, that's what mattered.

  CLICK HERE to continue reading BAT SHIFT CRAZY

  Rise of the Morrigan

  Copyright © 2020 by Theophilus Monroe.

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Cover art by Luminescence Covers

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For information : www.theophilusmonroe.com

  Prologue

  CÚ CHULAINN GRIPPED the hilt of his broadsword and, pivoting his hips, struck down the twelfth champion Queen Mebd sent to challenge him in as many days. He had no choice. It was his fault the queen of Connacht had overtaken Ulster.

  But the city was not her prize. It was Donn Cúailnge, the most fertile stud bull in the isles. Take down a city for a single bull? A strong bull means a strong herd which means warriors who were not only virile but satisfied. Donn Cúailnge was more than another head in a herd. He gave whoever possessed him a distinct advantage over the other clans.

  Cú Chulainn knelt at the edge of the ford. With a rag torn from his tattered shirt, he wiped the former champion's blood from his blade.

  "I should have struck down the queen when I had the chance," Cú Chulainn muttered under his breath. He hadn't chosen his words carefully. Evoking the rite of single combat—in lieu of a bloody battle —meant the greatest champion of each would do battle in their stead.

  If accepted, in a battle to the death, the winner would claim victory for the whole army. Only Cú Chulainn failed to ensure Mebd named a single champion to face him before the rite was agreed to. Thus, in Mebd's understanding, he'd agreed to face all of her champions, one-by-one, not only her strongest and fiercest.

  Sure, it wasn't fair. But there was no authority to appeal to. The traditions of war were
exactly that—traditions, governed by honor. Apparently, honor was one of the many virtues Queen Mebd lacked.

  There was a time, Cú Chulainn remembered, when a dishonorable monarch risked the wrath of Fionn MacCumhail, chief warlord and leader of the Fianna. But Fionn disappeared—and with him went any semblance of civility between lords and monarchs.

  So far, none of Mebd's champions had challenged Cú Chulainn. He defeated each of them with ease. He was, after all, the greatest warrior in the isles. It soon became clear, however, what Mebd's strategy was. She was not sending her strongest and best champions against Cú Chulainn first. She was starting with her weakest—gradually exhausting Ulster's champion so that once her strongest fighter came against him, they might be more evenly matched.

  His blade clean, Cú Chulainn grabbed Mebd's fallen warrior around the waist and tossed his body into the river. He'd be carried by the current back into Ulster—the city that had been his own, the one Mebd had claimed—and the arrival of the corpse would signal Cú Chulainn's short-lived victory. There was no telling how long it would take before another one of Mebd's champions—one undoubtedly more skilled than the last—would show up to challenge him.

  Cú Chulainn wiped his brow with his sleeve. His sweat was stained with blood—not his own, but it was blood no less. Cú Chulainn had seen his share of blood—his gifts in battle ensured he would in the course of doing his duty—but it still unsettled him. He had all the skill and physical prowess to make for a warrior. His body endured it, but his mind exhausted him. He did not enjoy taking lives—even the lives of his enemies.

  And while he'd killed hundreds, he still remembered every man's face whom he'd ever cut down. Did these men have wives and children praying to the gods for their return? Did they have lovers? Never again would they enjoy the touch of a woman. Never again would these men experience the thrill of a fleeting tryst.