Vamp City

by CD Brown

  She recognized the one she had saved, wrapping him in the blanket so the sunlight spots couldn’t burn him. He stepped up, but he didn’t take off his opaque sunglasses. “Wasn’t sure you was gonna show.”

  “Anyone ever tell you it’s polite to introduce yourself first?” She could feel all of them on edge, so she felt the need to stay aggressive until the tension broke. One of the men, wearing one of those multi-colored leather jackets with an 8-ball on the back which were popular in the ‘90s, stepped forward.

  “You ain’t bossing us around. Show some respect.” But the leader turned to him, staring over the top of his glasses.

  “Shit, you the one who ran from fighting her. Don’t even play.” He took off his glasses, tucking them into the collar of his white t-shirt. “I’m the boss, so they call me Alpha Dawg.”

  Sophia inched forward, whispering so only he could hear. “We doing this in front of everybody?”

  Alpha nodded but turned to a set of couches and seats. He extended his arm, offering Sophia a spot to rest. She took a rolling chair, while the rest dropped and reclined. Alpha took the crook of a couch, one of the females sitting on his lap. Only seven vamps were here and her senses could find no one out of sight.

  Sophia leaned forward, deciding to run this meeting as if it were a meeting at the ZLVG. “The Muertos are hurt, too. They lost a lot of friends the other night. I can see y’all did, too. But you’re the only ones who know why.”

  “Look, I’m glad you made some new friends, but we go way back with them Mexican motherfuckers.” Alpha rolled back his head. “Tamar’s sire laid a beating on me ‘bout 15 years back. That’s why that bitch is in charge now and not him.”

  “But she said this was a surprise. Y’all attacked out of the blue.”

  “We got word they was going to strike first.” Alpha rubbed a hand across his face. “Things have been chill going on ten years. But we weren’t gonna let them get the jump on us. They outnumbered us before.”

  “Still do. But not by much.” Sophia could feel the hackles rise in the room, the thoughts of finishing the job jumping through minds. “But they want revenge on the copter. That’s what did the most damage.”

  Alpha lifted the woman from his lap and stood up. Pacing in front of the pool table, he rolled his shoulders as he walked. “Them being gone wouldn’t ruin my day, ya heard? But that light was for both black and brown. Somebody wanted us all gone.”

  The woman stood now. “We ain’t teaming up with those bitches! They killed too many of us.”

  “But how much Muerto blood have you spilled?” Sophia also stood. “You may have had trouble in the past, but we gotta move on. Someone just told me that nobody in L.A. cares what happens below I-10. Well, somebody cared enough to try and kill you all. If that ain’t a sign that things are going bad for both of y’all, then go ahead. Go back to war with them. Do the work of the white man for him.”

  Alpha grinned, then laughed. “Damn. Preach it, girl.” The rest of the room smiled with their leader. “Tell Tamar she ain’t got no trouble with us. For now. But on the real, you tell us who’s behind this and we’ll fight by your side.”

  “I’ve been hearing a lot of that lately.”

  “See, Caballero? Man, that cat was a freak show. But he got everybody to listen. You got that same vibe.”

  “Minus the drama,” the woman said.

  “I’m just trying to make vamp life better for everybody.”

  Alpha laughed again. “You ain’t pushing that animal blood shit now, huh?”

  “Guess not.” Sophia shrugged. “It’s my thing.”

  “You like them black Muslims who wanted me to give up pulled pork. Good luck.” Alpha extended his hand, which Sophia shook. A piece of paper slipped into her grip. As she waited for her car, she opened the note. Alpha’s phone number with instruction to call when she got back home.

  So he couldn’t talk in front of everyone. Maybe this might give her some direction. Hopefully, it wasn’t a trap.

  The call was over quickly, but Sophia needed time to process it all. Lil Bun, the guy with the leather jacket, brought the rumor to Alpha. They had been transformed together, back at the end of the ‘70s when the first South Central Bloods got turned. They changed their name in the ‘90s, breaking away from the gang in a violent standoff, but Bun had always talked bigger than he acted.

  “When you grow up with someone, you know them, right?” Alpha’s voice had more edge than when they were in the same room. “He’s my boy. But I always knew he wanted to be the big dawg. He just ain’t got it.”

  “I never thought I had it.” Sophia thought she didn’t want it now, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “You got something else. Shit, I know you can whup ass. But you don’t want to. Bun, he wants to. And the biggest ass in front of him is mine.”

  “That’s a problem.”

  “Damn skippy it is. So, he’s taking our ride out tomorrow. You should be on his tail.”

  “What time?”

  “Nine.”

  Arriving back at the Center, Sophia knew she’d need some help. No Uber driver would agree to follow this guy around all night. So her heart leapt when she saw Jeremiah’s car on the street.

  He sat in one of the chairs in the reception area, flipping through the Hollywood Reporter. Carmen knew even the undead still needed info about the movie business. His face stretched wide with teeth, but the rest of him looked rough. His eyes bagged, sacks the purple of red table grapes, and his hair exploded in many directions, unwilling to take the taming influence of a comb. But she felt his joy at seeing her. She didn’t care that she felt the same way.

  “Tough one, boo?” She took his chin in her hand and dragged his lips to hers.

  “It ain’t never good, that’s for sure.”

  “Let’s talk about it.”

  And she was ready to do just that, one hour after a vigorous bout of love making. She saw her pale skin glow in the blackened room, an aftereffect of a nip of his blood. Jeremiah had finally exhausted himself flaccid, the runnels of his abs slick with sweat. She pressed her fingers to his back, feeling for the spots of tension. His back felt like a knotted rope ladder and he groaned as she worked her palms in.

  “The pain, it’s like a black fire. Rips through me, then nothing. My consciousness is gone. Until daylight, at least. Them wolves rip up the cage and shit, but me? In possum form, I’m like unlooping the metal. My boy had to reinforce my spot.”

  “You look okay. A bit wrecked, but…”

  “All I wanted to do was see you. That makes the pain go away.” He pulled himself into a sitting position. “You’re so damn beautiful.” He leaned in to kiss her again, but Sophia pulled back. She felt her throat constrict.

  “I’m sorry. It’s a hard word to hear.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Chip, he was hung up on how pretty I am. But can I show you something?”

  Jeremiah nodded. Sophia rolled over him and went to the armoire, digging in her knapsack. She pulled out a large book, the coffee table kind. They both sat cross-legged as she paged through it.

  “I knew this guy, long ago. Before Chip. Hell, before David. E.J. went from house to house in Storyville. His head was huge, encephalitic I learned later.”

  “What the hell?”

  “Huge head, with his brain enflamed. He was also a dwarf and hunchbacked.”

  “Sounds like you couldn’t miss him.”

  “Well, the weird thing is he disappeared in a crowd. All of us girls were chasing a buck, but all he ever wanted was to take our pictures.” Sophia stopped in the book. “See?”

  Jeremiah looked at it, then at the naked woman in front of him. Sophia’s body, no doubt, but the face was blacked out, looking scraped away directly on the negative. “Wow. These are wild.” As he flipped pages, he saw multiple girls with scratched out faces.

  “I don’t know exactly why he did it. His brother was a priest. He had angry spells. But my point is that’s the only photo of me.�
�

  “Ever?”

  “Yeah. I got turned before film became cheap. So, I see that body…”

  “Sexy body.” Jeremiah hucked up his goofy laugh.

  “But I can’t see my face.” Sophia took the book and examined the edges of the scratches, like she had done thousands of times before. “And now, I’ve forgotten what I look like.”

  “Come on.”

  “No mirrors since 1901. My face is gone from memory. But see, Chip was my mirror. And I his. So when you tell me I’m beautiful…” Words stuck in her throat.

  “Can’t you just believe me? Cause I ain’t gonna lie to you. Not ever. Cause I know if I did…” His throat now vibrated with gridlocked tones.

  Sophia curled in his lap. His hands found her body’s right angles and he pulled them together like a fleshy yin-yang. In the crook of her underarm, Sophia could feel his penis stirring. She sat up.

  “Can you drive me somewhere tomorrow?”

  “Sure.”

  “Don’t agree so quickly. This could be dangerous.”

  “I’m here for you. Bad and good.”

  Sophia pulled up on her knees, then paddled his hardening dick. “Then give me some blood so I can take care of this.”

  Chip. Chip was gone only about two months and here she was in somebody else’s arms. But she had done nothing but morn for so long. First Fritz, then David and finally Chip. She couldn’t live in New Orleans without any of them, so she left.

  “And I’m starting over,” she thought to herself as Jeremiah’s deep breathing filled the room.

  She had kept Chip at arm’s length, too. At least at first. She had been twenty-five years into the vamp life when they met. Strolling through the French Market at 5 a.m., trying to let the foggy morning deliver some feeling into her bones, she saw the young man stacking boxes of onions, taking them from the horse cart to their spot right outside the grocery’s door.

  They called it the French Quarter for so long, but at the turn of the 20th Century Italians, or Sicilians as they liked to remind everyone, flocked to the riverfront, opening groceries and other little shops. Chip’s father had been born on the Mediterranean, but his first born would only know life on the Mississippi.

  “Ain’t safe for a lady. Not down here. Not at this hour.” Chip had paused, wiping his hands on a stained apron then running them through his high-peaked tar-colored hair.

  “Looks are deceiving, boy. I’ll be just fine.”

  She could tell he didn’t like being called boy, even though he was high school aged. Of course, he hadn’t seen the inside of a classroom in five years.

  “Hey, it ain’t me in trouble. Black Hand comes by, we deliver the cash. But they got some animals in their ranks. You ready to put up a fight?”

  She closed with him, twirling her parasol open to keep any mist out of her hair. “Always.”

  “Yeah you right,” he said. His face showed respect for her stance but not belief in her strength. “But if you ever need help, you come right in here.”

  “You’re saying I’m invited?”

  “Lady like you? You’re always invited.”

  He had no idea what he said. Sophia would not make him pay for the mistake. That invite may have cost him his life, but it guaranteed he didn’t die.

  Sophia bolted out of bed as soon as she woke. She had little time to get together before Lil Bun would be on the move. Adding in the drive to South Central, no second could be wasted.

  Carmen waited for her with a manila folder full of printouts. While Sophia flipped through the papers, Carmen said, “I think we’ve found our first vampire ghost.”

  Sophia saw the thin packet of papers and guessed. “Fudgie’s not much for the spotlight?”

  “I was lucky to get anything past 1978. But there’s one thing we know for sure: he’s been a vamp for a while.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “No pictures.”

  Sophia nodded, reflecting on her own pictureless past. But Los Angeles didn’t have the history of New Orleans. While The Caballero might have been an ancient, few non-Latinos like Mr. Whaloosie would be. Sophia went to the last page: his autopsy report.

  “This was in the public record?”

  “It’s old enough, yeah.”

  There it was: death caused by exsanguination. Marks on the neck consistent with biting. Since the body was found in Griffith Park right under the Hollywood sign, the leading suspect was a wild animal: coyote, maybe even mountain lion. Year of death was listed as 1950.

  “I’m guessing you’re not old enough to remember this?”

  “How old do you think I am? That happened ten years before I was born. You vamps couldn’t tell time with every watch and calendar in front of you.”

  “The decades smoosh together. It’s one of the major drawbacks.”

  “Sandy said she found a few things.”

  Sophia looked at the wall clock: 8 p.m. “Better call her from the car.”

  By the time Jeremiah and Sophia reached the 110 Freeway, Sandy had delivered the most important news.

  “Steve’s right about the gangster part, but that’s not surprising. What is surprising is who Whaloosie was running with when he died.”

  “Was he part of some famous family or something?”

  “You have to remember, L.A. is an open city. You didn’t need to be part of any organization to do crime.”

  “Sounds like the vampires.”

  “That’s truer than you think. But in the criminal’s case, you had to know the right people. Whaloosie was on the losing side.”

  “Who was the winner?”

  “Mickey Cohen. He was Bugsy Siegel’s lieutenant, then took over when the man himself got whacked. Whaloosie was part of Jack Dragna’s crew, the ones who were here first. Dragna lost out to Siegel, then got the business back when Las Vegas development fell behind. But Cohen was one tough son of a bitch. He fought everybody to regain his position. Whaloosie died in the fighting.”

  “But he was killed by a vampire.”

  “Yeah. It doesn’t all wrap up in a bow. But I can tell you this much, the Italian mob has never been stronger. I think there may be something extra on their side if you know what I mean.”

  “If we had a council, we’d know.”

  “Hey, babe, you’re the one fleeing that shit. Reap what you sow.”

  Sophia knew Sandy was right. Living in an open city was great if you didn’t have conflicts. But lots of fires were sparking all over town and the fire chief was dead. The Caballero would have known exactly who was making the move. Now Sophia had to find it out for herself. She turned to Jeremiah.

  “Nature abhors a vacuum.”

  “Yeah, it gets real dirty out in the woods.”

  She slapped his shoulder as he laughed. “Idiot. The big move was to take out the only one with any perceived power. Whoever killed The Caballero wanted to make this city chaotic. Ripe for a takeover.”

  “That’s a whole lot of fingers pointed at this Fudgie guy.”

  “But Steve said Jim and he were partners. The Insiders could be making the move, but they need something more than money. They need muscle.”

  “That sounds good. But there ain’t no proof.”

  Sophia’s phone jangled again. Sandy sounded nervous. “Did you read that e-mail?”

  “What?”

  “Hang up and read it right now.”

  Jim Ferriday sent the e-mail in question, the red exclamation point adding to his urgency. The letter was to the entire Los Angeles vampire community, but Sophia read between the lines, seeing the usual bias: money and perceived power. She read the whole thing out loud for Jeremiah.

  “The recent clash between our brothers and sisters in Boyle Heights highlights a problem our community has struggled with since the death of our beloved Caballero. While we all enjoy the open nature of our city, we must also adapt to the times.

  “The Insiders feel it is time to establish a council, one that includes representatio
n from all cabals. While we feel we are in the best position to spearhead the movement, we do not assume anything more than a facilitation role.

  “Discussions will begin as soon as every voice is heard. Please give us your input as we move together toward a beautiful future.”

  Sophia locked her phone. “That may not be proof, but it’s a damn sight closer.”

  Chapter Ten

  The best part of Jeremiah’s beater was it didn’t stand out on Vermont Avenue, fitting in with all the other cars pocked with dents, dings and duct tape. More to the point, the Bomb Squad’s Escalade strutted around like a priapic giant, lording above the scene with its sleek and shiny glamour.

  “I thought you said they didn’t like to stand out.”

  “Guess Alpha can’t control everything.” Sophia admired the vehicle as a piece of engineering, but she couldn’t imagine shepherding that much metal through the streets. “But hell, everybody likes nice things.”

  “It’s the truth. My friends back home, they may live in houses falling off the beam, but they save up for one of them muscle cars. Guess it’s more affordable.”

  “It’s a nicer cage.”

  They parked on the far side of the street, Vermont Avenue six lanes across with a thin median. Unless Lil Bun was actively looking for them, he wouldn’t pick them out. So when they saw the lights of the dragon mobile fire up, Jeremiah left the space to u-turn around.

  Bun didn’t take freeways as he headed north to Hollywood. Sophia thought he may not have a lot of access to the SUV, so maybe he wanted to enjoy his time behind the wheel. Or maybe he hated the interstates. She certainly did.

  Bun made his way over to Western, one of the clearest routes from south to north. Figueroa would take him to downtown, Vermont to Los Feliz, so Bun was bound for either Koreatown or Hollywood. Sophia got a twitch as they crossed the 10.