by CD Brown
“You get your guys out of here. I’m gonna patch him up, then scoot.”
Alpha, unwilling to be the black man confronting police in the mayor’s front yard, blurred out of sight. Sophia moved just as fast, finding gauze and tape. The wound bound, the mayor’s pulse weak but steady, she ran to the front door.
As she went to open the door, the entire house was bathed in white light, the loud fwupping of a police helicopter hovering overhead. She had no idea where Jeremiah was, but assumed he wasn’t in the house. Sophia opened the door just wide enough to get out, then turned to mist.
As she drifted out of the door, she saw the light refocused on a tree in the backyard. Jeremiah, in his opposum form, clung to a palm tree, his eyes reflecting back on the spot. The illumination wavered, as if the operator wasn’t sure what he saw. When the beam steadied, Jeremiah was gone.
Pamela’s fury was suppressed by her get-it-done face. Sophia felt like the child in this situation, sorry for ignoring her science project until the night before it was due. But she was in charge, she was the sheriff. She had to take the punishment for not being proactive in this situation.
“We’re going back to the mansion.” Pamela’s voice was terse and brooked no argument.
“I want Sandy to come also.”
“You’re not on trial, Sophia.”
“I don’t play games when I don’t know the rules. She keeps me in line.”
“Fine, but let’s do this quickly.”
Pamela whisked towards the car that would take them to Hancock Park, but Sophia hung back with Sandy on her side.
“You have any idea what they’re gonna say?”
“Babe, I have a guess. They’re gonna want a council.”
“Well that will go over well.”
“Vamps tried to turn the mayor. Maybe it’s time we closed this city down.”
As they drove through West Hollywood, the silence finally got to Sophia. “Is the mayor all right?”
“You saved his life. He’s grateful for that.” Pamela drank a green smoothie from an enclosed plastic cup. “I can’t continue to blame you, Sophia. VampAmp is just as responsible for creating this mess.”
“Blame goes to those freaks.” Sandy let her tone boil over into anger. “Sophia comes to town to do good and we think she can take over for the Caballero as if that were no big thing? He’d been keeping order since before any of us were turned. What was it? Three hundred, four hundred years? We have no idea how long Myra’s been waiting.”
“Or what Fudgie’s next move is.” Sophia shook her head in frustration. “Dammit, we do need a council.”
“If we have the organization, the lines of communication, we can re-establish order.” Pamela counted on her fingers. “The cops, the mayor, the fire department? We need all the help we can get.”
“Jesus. I thought I was fighting an uphill battle when I asked vamps to give up human blood.” Sophia turned to Pamela. “Jim’s vision is going to come into play here. We need the infrastructure you’ve built. Those mummies back in New Orleans can do it the old-fashioned way. We’ll use all the tools.”
“I’m glad you think that way. No more going it alone.”
“You do realize this is a billable hour?” Sandy smirked at Sophia. “I mean, somebody has to draw up the contracts.”
As they pulled up to the Getty House, they saw security had tripled. Everywhere were uniform cops, plus suited men with earpieces. But the man at the front gate nodded as Pamela approached.
They went to the front door, where Judy DelBarca waited. She hugged Pamela and held her hand out to Sophia. “Thank you so much for saving my husband last night. But did you have to ruin my favorite pillow cases?”
Sophia laughed with her, then followed as they went to the living room. It had been so dark last night that Sophia hadn’t noticed the details. Where the house’s facade was old, this room was modern, filled with metal-accented leather furniture and a 60-inch television. The floors were polished wood, stained to a dark hue. A shaggy white area rug lay under a metal and glass coffee table where Mayor Abraham DelBarca waited in one seat.
He looked much more together tonight, his dark hair slicked back, olive-skinned face shaved close, his suit black and cut tight to his thin frame. His collar was open, a large bandage covering the bite mark.
“You’ll forgive me, I’m still a bit weak.” He didn’t stand but held his hand out to Sophia. She shook it, then sat on the couch where Sandy joined her. The mayor smiled, weak but sincere. “I feel like I’ve been told all the crazy folktales of my abuela are true. Vampires, werewolves, zombies…”
“I’ve never met a zombie.”
“Well, thank the Lord for that.” He brought his hands together as if in prayer. “But Judy and Pamela tell me your story is the one I need to hear.”
Sophia gave him the shorthand of her journey to Los Angeles, her background and what a vampire council means. “You have to understand, this is a very old structure, but it will be difficult to reign in a city so used to being open.”
“I’m still trying to understand that you were born before cars.”
“I was born fifteen years after California joined the United States.”
The mayor laughed, then took a drink, what looked like bourbon over ice. “I’m just going to pretend to understand and move on. Pamela has explained how Jim put some ideas together, but they all still ignored us: the government, the humans, whatever. We have an essential problem.”
“Yes. I will be here after you are out of office. And maybe after the police and fire chiefs.”
“I will be glad to record a video to keep continuity.”
“That will be a help. But we need a contract. Something that will say we are at peace.”
“You’ll need to release any humans from bondage.”
“There are those who choose the life, as lovers or servants or whatever. But anyone held against their will be released or the cabal will face consequences. But that means we need a blood supply.”
“We’ll work out the details. I still have to run the city while this deal goes through. I assume your community wants to remain a myth in the eyes of the general public?”
Sophia turned to Sandy. Sandy nodded in fierce agreement. “Guess we stay in the closet.”
“Let’s keep the torches and pitchforks to a minimum, babe.” Sandy returned to her notepad.
“Fine.”
“Okay, we’ll work out the p’s and q’s and get this registered. Not sure the judges are gonna like it.” Abraham stiffened. “And the ones who did this to me?”
“In our crosshairs. We’re going to stop them.”
“You better.”
Chapter Nineteen
That night, Sophia lay in Jeremiah’s arms, his warmth comforting her, soaking through her skin down to her rigid bones. The boy was so gentle, but she needed more to rid herself of the oppressive thoughts connected to the chaos Own The Night had created. She rolled him on his back, felt him grow stiff against her hip bone. She pulled up his arm, pulled back his bandage, and sipped a mouthful from his veins.
As the blood tingled through her body, she took Jeremiah inside herself. Eyes closed, mind only on her physical pleasure, she rode him hard, up and down, up and down, ignoring his grunts, his attempts to stop her lest he blow it all too quickly.
But she wasn’t in synch with him tonight, nor did she want to be. When she felt him release within her, she wasn’t close to finished.
“More. I need more.” Jeremiah had turned to mush within her, so she slid forward onto his hips. There she found his thumb, not much on penetration but wouldn’t lose its erectness until she had purged herself of frustration. She continued her ride, faster and faster, Jeremiah wriggling and uncomfortable below her. “Sit. Still.”
He did as told, she leaning forward so her hips could have full motion. Cranking without bouncing, she finally found the itch and scratched it for a few minutes until she finally released. She felt her fangs on her
tongue and fell onto her back to avoid biting Jeremiah in the throes of passion.
“That was scary as fuck.” Jeremiah sounded weak, but Sophia could only laugh.
“I’m an old woman. Takes some work to come.” She sat up and caressed his stomach. “Best be glad I don’t need that every night.”
“Shit. You might break it off if that was true.”
She ran her index finger over his limp shaft, which sprang back with the attention. “Wouldn’t want to do that. I like it too much.”
When he was fully erect, she suckled him for a while, but he couldn’t finish after the first ride. He held her tight as he withered again, then slipped into darkness. Two hours remained until her own sleep would come, so she put on her robe and went downstairs.
Her phone buzzed. She had left it charging in the office, but seven messages awaited her. Sandy, Pamela, others had called.
The message was the same: while she and Jeremiah were having sex, Own The Night had gone on a killing spree. Over 200 vamps were dead, spread over most of Los Angeles. The war had begun.
She got Pamela on the phone.
“Where have you been?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Our new truce with the mayor now has an ultimatum. He says unless we destroy Own The Night, he’s calling in the feds. And they will have license to kill any vamp they meet.”
“Jesus.”
“He’s given us forty-eight hours to clean up the mess.”
“They’ve given us no choice. It’s time to go to war.”
VampAmp’s traffic over the next day nearly burned out their servers, as every site saw quadruple or quintuple the use. Sophia had one plan of action against Own The Night: time to rumble. All the other cabals knew the facts: the mayor’s ultimatum, the OTN manifesto and the place where and when it would all go down. Griffith Park on the lawns outside the Greek Theater. Midnight.
Sophia sat with Maisie as she combed through the e-mails, chats and memes they’d received. Sophia worked the phone, the only communication device she had any comfort with. She hung up, frustrated by all the news.
“Black and Whites are sitting this one out. Loretta says they were here first and will be here after the dust settles.” Sophia looked over Maisie’s shoulder to see a screen filled with fifteen more boxes than Sophia could keep track of. “She says she’s pulling for us, if that’s any consolation.”
“Right on.”
Sophia wasn’t sure she was listening. So she went to her list, kept on a legal pad. Scions of the Sun claimed pacifism. Glamazons promised twenty. All the Bomb Squad and Muertos were in. A few of the Hollywood types were in, but the final number was less than a hundred, which Sophia thought was as many troops as OTN could muster. Hell, the mayor didn’t have to call the FBI. After this massacre, the vampire population of Los Angeles would be cut by a third.
At 10 p.m. Jeremiah walked up, his clothes layers of leather and denim to protect him. He looked more likely to climb a telephone pole than get into a fight, but she saw the resolve on his face, all of his normal humor gone. “Bout that time. We best head over there.”
Maisie looked up when Sophia stood. “I…I…”
“Forget it, kid. Pamela needs all of you.” She put her hand on the younger vamp’s shoulder. “I plan on coming back. Do everything you have to do to dismantle their Internet stuff. Hopefully, it’ll be the last we ever hear from them.”
Sophia could see Maisie wanted to cry. Not everyone who was turned is a killer. Sophia didn’t like it, but she could destroy an enemy. This kid had barely bitten a neck, much less ashed an opponent. Her place was behind the lines.
It took them an hour to get to the meeting place, a trailhead just off Los Feliz Boulevard that lead to the amphitheater. The dry weather had turned most of the leaves brown, but the grass retained some lushness. All around were weathered tables and crusty metal barbeques for the picnicking crowd. But the darkness kept the places shadowy and menacing for this meeting.
As Jeremiah parked, Sophia saw the cabals were sticking to their own, milling around and stretching their limbs. The only exception was Alpha and Tamar who shadow boxed, throwing punches at the air and shuffling like they were in the gym. Sophia went directly to those two.
Alpha nodded as Sophia walked up. “You ready, sheriff?”
Sophia smiled at the nickname. “As I’ll ever be.”
Tamar, still running through some kung fu katas, said, “You ever do one of these big rumbles?”
“Last time I did something like this, it was me and my boyfriend against a couple of werewolves.”
“You win?”
“Tie.” Sophia could still feel the moment when Chip’s head was bitten off and the love of her life disappeared before her eyes. That dagger still hadn’t left her heart. “But it brought me out here.”
“Shit.” Alpha helped Tamar up from the ground, where she had been doing a final stretch. “Used to do this shit all the time when we was flesh and blood. Now that we vamp, it don’t seem as necessary all the time.”
“Last time you did something like this, I almost dusted your ass.” Tamar slapped Alpha across the chest. “Glad I didn’t. Though I wish I had all those homies tonight.”
“I know. Still waiting to get that Fudgie motherfucker back for that shit.”
“Add it to the list, kids.” Sophia rolled her shoulders to loosen up. “But don’t lose focus on what we got to do tonight.”
Sophia walked to a picnic table and jumped on top. The air’s edge sharpened to a fine hone as all the troops circled around her.
“I’m glad you’re all here, but I want to let you know exactly what you’re fighting for. You’re not fighting for freedom because we’re forming a council. You’re not fighting for your cabals because after tonight we’ll all be united. What you’re fighting for is your city. Los Angeles needs you tonight to keep it safe from that pack of psychopaths. We will save the city tonight. The daywalkers will never know it and they’ll never thank us for it, but we’ll know in our unbeating hearts that chaos and destruction will lose out. Are you ready?”
The growl built until it was a chant, a wordless grunting cadence uniting all of these disparate individuals into a fighting force. Sophia jumped from the table, going fifteen feet in the air for the dramatic effect. Landing in full stride, the other vamps fell into a march behind her. Jeremiah soon made it to her side.
“That was cool, baby. Even I’m ready to kick some ass.”
“You better be. And you better make it through alive.”
The twenty-minute march did nothing to dispel the spirit bubbling around Sophia and her troops. They had mingled together now, no longer a bunch of cabals fighting together, but one force unified against a common enemy. Sophia heard laughter and war cries as they all bonded together.
As the platoon rounded the corner and found its way to the open spot, two hundred-yard fields on either side of a two-lane roadway, Sophia saw she had made a mistake: the fields were at an angle and she had ceded the high ground. Hopefully since the only weapons being used tonight were claws and fangs, it might not matter too much.
As her forces gathered at the bottom of the field, Own The Night looked like an amoeba of trucker hats, ripped denim and leather jackets, no one individual discernible from the pack. But then Myra stepped forward, her cronies parting to give way. She stepped about twenty yards away from them.
“I know you go for that old school shit, Sophia. So why don’t we do a little one-on-one to see who’s baddest?”
“She doesn’t really think that’ll work, does she?” Tamar scoffed at the idea.
“Worked on you.” Sophia heard Tamar spit on the ground as she walked to the center of the field. “Okay, you little greaseball, let’s get it on.”
Sophia tried to keep Myra’s gaze as the two closed together. The younger one’s bratty smirk remained plastered on her face.
“You thought this would end when you fragged Jurevicious? He was just s
ome gutter punk who liked to talk. Now you’re in it with the real deal.”
“You don’t have anywhere near my age and power. I’m just gonna bat you around like a cat does a toy.”
“You keep talking, sister. I’m gonna do some showing.”
The extra bit of height helped Myra spring into the air, claws out and aiming for Sophia’s eyes. But Sophia had anticipated such a move, going to one knee and scraping Myra’s belly with her own nails. Sophia heard her gasp as she rolled in the grass.
Sophia whirled around to see Myra back in the air. Too late to pull the same underbelly move, she dodged left and out of the way. Myra rolled and popped onto her feet. Sophia saw enough of her back to speed forward and scratch, her claws ripping through Myra’s leather jacket. With her off hand, Sophia stabbed at the small of the back.
She grazed flesh, but Myra swiveled before she could get deep. Sophia had accomplished one thing: Myra no longer smiled.
“I’ll make sure your death won’t be quick.”
“A century and a half and counting, doll. Ain’t been quick at all.”
Myra growled, Sophia thinking she could hear some frustration creeping in. Did this punk think Sophia was powerless? Sophia put it out of her mind as she set for Myra’s charge. The ground was too uneven for a monkey flip or a matador dodge. All the thinking distracted Sophia as Myra drove her shoulder into Sophia’s gut. The older vamp could do nothing but take it, crashing to the lawn and feeling the crunch of the tackle.
Myra grabbed Sophia’s belt and pulled herself up on her knees, squatting on Sophia’s prone hip bones. She slashed with both hands at Sophia’s face, gouging chunks of cheek. But she couldn’t slip onto Sophia’s shoulders, thus not being able to avoid the right hand to her jaw which lifted her from the ground and set her sailing ten feet backwards.
Now that Myra’s back was to the grass, Sophia climbed on board, making sure to pin her shoulders. While Myra’s body wriggled like a landed eel, her head had little range of motion. With her left hand, Sophia pushed back Myra’s chin. Raising her right hand, she aimed for the throat and the blow to end this thing right now.
