by Eve Paludan
“We’re on our own, but we’re formidable.”
“We’re a freaking magnet for vampire terminators. They’re going to keep coming. We won’t know when. We won’t know where. We only know that they will.” I kept checking the car’s rearview and side mirrors.
“Stop that. There’s no one following us.”
“Half of Los Angeles is following us.”
“That’s just normal traffic.” She drove carefully, even as blood trickled out of her nose and down her shirt. She sniffled, wiped her bloody nose on her sleeve and kept driving.
“Hey, is that my shirt?”
“It’s mine now.”
“Are those my jeans you’ve got rolled up at the hems?” I asked.
“Your whole closet is mine.”
“The hell you say!”
“Fang, don’t you know what it means when a girl steals your clothes?”
I laughed. “I’m pretty sure I do.”
Chapter 19
I was depleted by the time we got home, but Justine was still punchy. Every time I fell asleep and woke up, she was pacing.
“We’ll heal better if we drink blood and get a good day’s sleep. Why don’t you chill?”
“I’ll chill when I’m ready to chill.” She threw karate punches and kicks into the air.
“What’s your problem?”
“Killing an enemy and drinking his blood is like doing coke. Lots and lots of coke.”
“Please tell me you don’t do coke.”
“Never have. It was a metaphor.”
“That’s a relief. Are you going to stay in this annoying mood for much longer?”
She gave me a wicked smile. “I can get rid of it if we have lots of angry sex to complete the circle of fighting and making up.”
I laughed. “I can’t tonight. I have a headache.”
She chuckled. “I know. I was just trying to make you laugh. And then, you made me laugh. It hurts when I laugh.”
“Well, then, since it hurts when we both laugh, apparently, date night has been a complete success.”
She giggled. “I’m sorry. I think it has something to do with drinking evil blood. My entity wants me to do wicked things to you—alas, I have no handcuffs.”
“I have handcuffs,” I teased, “but I need a rain check.”
Justine gave me surprised look. “You got it.”
She paced off her killer energy until she went to take a shower. My head was killing me so I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. A little while later, I felt someone watching me and snapped open my eyes. She was kneeling next to the bed, staring at me.
I sat up in bed. “Whoa, you startled me!”
“Sorry. I’m tired now, but I needed to ask you if you wanted me to sleep in the guest room?”
I thought about my answer. “No, Justine. I don’t want you to sleep in the guest room.”
“Are you still angry with me?”
I growled at her. “Why do women always want to talk crap when men are trying to sleep?”
She smirked. “Because you’re vulnerable then. You’ll say anything to get your sleep.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “I’m not angry with you. You couldn’t help what you did to set me up and that’s over. Now, I’m angry with myself because I was so easily tricked. My freaking pride has taken one for the team.”
“You won’t fall for it ever again, I’m sure.”
“Justine, my head’s killing me. Can you go to the kitchen and get us some blood for a nightcap?”
“Technically, it’s a day-cap.”
“Ha-ha. Please?”
She left my bedroom and I soon heard her rummaging in the kitchen cabinets and the fridge. While she was busy, I sniffed my pits, took a quick shower and threw on sweatpants. Then I got back in bed. I left the top to the same sweats on the pillow next to mine, sank back and closed my eyes.
She woke me when she brought blood to the bedroom in plastic cups that I’d saved from Cirque de Soleil in Santa Monica. As we drank it in bed, she asked, “What’s Cirque like?”
“Magical. I’ll take you if we can find a Halloween show in another city, so we can go as ourselves.”
“I’d like that, Fang.”
I yawned and threw her my sweatshirt.
She stripped down to black panties and put on my sweatshirt without turning her back. She was flawlessly beautiful. But I was exhausted.
So, both wearing my soft gray sweats—the pants for me and the top for her—we slept like the undead with me spooned protectively around her. She fit there better than anyone ever had.
After about twenty-four hours of rest and blood feedings from my stash in the fridge, when we were physically recovered, we both felt better about everything—even the train wreck of her betrayal was fading as fast as our bruises. I understood compulsions. I never wanted to tell her what I had done when I had been compelled by Rachel. All of that was on a need-to-know basis. And she didn’t need to know…
I knew she wanted to get romantic, though. She kept giving me these intense sensual looks—the kind of stares where she was ripping off my clothes in her mind—but I kept worrying that at any moment, more dark-winged vampires were going to come crashing through my windows and try to kill us.
She must have sensed my unease because she started a spontaneous pillow fight until we were stupidly grinning at each other. Finally, we tidied up the pillows and started to get back to normal.
While Justine took another long shower, I got a call from Samantha Moon.
“Hi, Sam.”
“Fang, I noticed the blood club was closed today and the day before. Are you okay?”
“I’m just taking a few days off with Justine. We needed some R&R.”
“Must be nice. Hey, I’m glad she’s still there. Kingsley and I were just talking. We want you and Justine to come out and play.”
“Play?” I blurted. “Justine and I and Dracula just got done killing the head henchman of the vampire Genghis Khan and also, a slew of his henchmen so we could save a child from him. And we freed a bunch of women vampires who were gladiator slaves.”
“Wow! When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Did you two get busted up?”
“Some. We’re okay now. But I got involved in a vampire turf war. There are going to be long-term repercussions. So, I’m on lockdown.”
“Are you in immediate danger?”
“No, but I’m hunkering down for the duration.”
“The duration? How long has it been going on?”
“Centuries. Genghis Khan versus Dracula. East versus West. Sharks versus Jets.”
“That bad?”
“Worse than the south side of Chicago and bad, bad Leroy Brown.”
“Fang, are you drunk?”
“No, just regretting that Genghis Khan got away, so be forewarned.”
“Oh, boy. Does he know I exist?”
“Not that I know of.”
“You need to get out of the house. Come out tonight. You’ll be safer with me and Kingsley.”
“True. You’re both badasses. But so is Justine. She actually landed the kill blow on Khan’s number one ugly henchman.”
“You’re no slouch in a fight, either.”
“I do all right. I just don’t like killing the first lieutenants of vampire emperors because it’s the gift that will keep on giving. And I can’t get the image out of my mind of Justine and Dracula drinking his blood. Out of his head.”
“Apparently, she’s quite the badass.”
“Almost in your league.”
Sam chuckled. “Good thing she’s on our side.”
“Sam, I feel like there’s a sword hanging over my head.” I lowered my voice. “I should have been the one saving her.”
“Can you try to get over your own ego, princess?”
“I confide in you and you mock me?”
“If she wouldn’t have been there, could you and Dracula have taken down Genghis Khan?”
“No. It took all three of us to get rid of twenty bodyguards, and he still got away.”
“Twenty? Well, you got away, too.”
“It sucks that Khan slipped through our fingers.”
“It does, but if Justine hadn’t shown up, would you and Dracula be dead instead of undead?”
“Probably. And a little girl, too.”
“You’re just pouting because she got the kill shot.”
“I should have protected her. Instead, she protected me. And she’s leaning toward the R word already.”
“You can’t even say relationship. Is that what your sulk is about?”
“It’s throwing me for a loop. And even though she’s willing, we haven’t even—”
“Since when are you reluctant about intimacy?”
I squirmed. “I have my reasons. First of all, my girlfriends have had very short lives.”
“Don’t do that to yourself. What’s the other reason?”
“Frankly, I’m used to women just wanting me for sex.”
“The nerve of her. How dare she not use you as a sex object?”
I laughed. “I know, right?”
“Is it so bad that she thinks you’re worth more than a one-night stand?”
“I don’t know, but I’ve been worrying about being alone for eternity. And then she shows up in my universe and starts turning me inside out. She knows things about me that no other women ever figured out.”
“She’s a writer. They know stuff.”
“She watches me. I know she’s going to write about me and I feel like I have to rise to some impossible heroic level.”
“Oh, poor baby! Whatcha gonna do about it?”
“I think my choices are run for the hills or take a leap of faith.”
“The hills are full of werewolves.”
“Leap of faith it is then.”
“What do you want to do about tonight?” Sam asked.
“I know what she wants.”
“She’s not too patient, I take it?”
“No. If she wants something, she wants it now.”
Sam laughed. “So you understand how demanding lady vampires can be.”
“Our many online chats were illuminating in that vein.”
“Sometimes, I actually miss those days before we knew each other this well,” Sam said.
“Ditto.”
“She must be really special if you’re agonizing this much.”
“I would rather dig out my heart and throw it to werewolves before I would break hers.”
“Then, man up!”
“All right. Let’s go out. The four of us.”
“We’ll pick you up in an hour. Make reservations at a nice place in Malibu. Kingsley and I will be there for the early part of the evening. After that, you’ll get no more wingwoman services from me.”
“Wingwoman?!”
Sam hung up on me.
I called a place I’d wanted to go and reserved a table for four.
After I hung up, Justine came out with her hair wet and a towel wrapped around her. “I heard the tail end of those reservations. What’re we doing?”
“Going out on the town with Sam and Kingsley. You up for it?”
She smirked. “I think the real question is, are you?”
I realized something from her expression. “Did you hear my previous phone call, too?”
Justine just arched an eyebrow at me and went to get dressed.
Chapter 20
The four of us went on our double date to Paradise Cove in Malibu, where it cost forty bucks to park for four hours. The atmosphere made up for the prices. Besides, we were in Kingsley’s vehicle and he paid the valet.
Justine was in her red halter sundress from 7-Eleven and by coincidence, Sam was wearing a red sleeveless dress, too. They looked like pale cousins with their dark heads bent together, telling each other whatever women talked about when guys were right there at the table, too.
I was wearing black jeans and a loose cotton shirt printed with classic Chevys. Kingsley had come directly from the courthouse so he was still wearing one of his custom suits. I knew we were a strange-looking group. Three pale people and Kingsley, who had a suntanned complexion and hairy knuckles on hands so big that bears would be jealous.
As usual, Kingsley carried most of the conversation. He had a big ego, as lawyers—and werewolves—do. He’d won his defense case on a technicality—the cops had really screwed up. They hadn’t Mirandized Ezra the troll when he’d been arrested. The DA argued that the arresting officers hadn’t thought of him as human and so they didn’t read him his rights.
The court was not amused and hadn’t allowed the prosecutor’s argument about whether Ezra even had the right to civil rights, which would have been a can of worms if sent up to a higher court. The judge said he wasn’t going to allow the DA to descend into an argument about whether the defendant was human or not. As far as the judge was concerned, Kingsley had made the point that the arresting officers had not read Ezra his Miranda rights. Case dismissed.
Now freed, Ezra the troll decided he wanted to leave Los Angeles and find a bridge somewhere else to guard. Preferably Scotland, where his ancestors had guarded bridges for millennia and where no troll had ever been arrested for anything. Nor had they had cops refer to them as Shrek.
“You’re one kick-ass lawyer,” I said when Kingsley stopped for a breath.
“Technically, it was an easy case. Emotionally, it was a rollercoaster. I hope you never need my services, but if you do…”
“Thanks, bro.”
“This may be the first time I’ve rooted for one of your defense clients,” Samantha said and sipped her drink.
Kingsley said, “Hey, some of my defense clients are actually innocent. It’s a shame that no one will ever really know the details of Ezra’s heroism because I got him off on a technicality, but because of his courageous action, many others lived. Defense lawyers don’t often end their days with this kind of a quiet triumph.”
“I’m sure,” I said wryly.
Sam said to Justine, “I’m always giving Kingsley a hard time about defending guilty scumbags. But not this time.”
Kingsley smiled. “Ezra the troll is the quintessential underdog because of the way he looks. For hundreds of years, he’s been shunned and treated like some sort of ugly monster, but when he left that courtroom to get processed out of the jail, that troll was smiling for the first time in his life. It didn’t matter that he’d lived, as trolls do, under bridges, eating whatever scraps of food and garbage that people throw off bridges. He’s somebody special now, even noble. Justice can make the ugly… beautiful. It was my best pro bono case ever.”
“What a tribute.” Sam gazed at Kingsley with such admiration that a spear of happiness went through me for them.
“A toast to Kingsley, defender of the innocent!” Justine exclaimed.
As we raised our glasses—Justine and I had Perrier in ours—I no longer felt like the odd man out. With Justine in the picture, our dynamics were changing. I could see how the four of us really fit as friends.
Justine asked Sam about her children and Sam told us funny stories about Tammy and Anthony. Certainly, their teachers were not amused, but we were.
Long into the night, the four of us listened to music and shared snappy conversation and much laughter. When the place closed, we headed out into the chilly night.
The women hugged each other in the parking lot and exchanged phone numbers before we parted ways.
Sam and Kingsley headed for a local bed and breakfast while Justine and I walked, hand in hand on the beach, back toward my home.
She’d wanted to walk along the beach with me on her arm.
“Kingsley would have given us a ride,” I said.
“I know. I just want to make this night last as long as possible.”
Under the light of that silvery moon, I kissed a beautiful vampiress and she kissed me back. Being with her in this romantic setting made me fe
el very human again in a way that I hadn’t experienced for years.
It was the best of times, maybe ever.
Chapter 21
The night wasn’t even over yet.
Holding hands, we walked back along the deserted beach toward my house. I was awash in contentment, something that had eluded me for my entire vampiric life. Until now.
The sea was teeming with phosphorescent life that I could clearly see with my vampire eyes and the sea spray was a sharp tang on my lips. I turned to look at Justine. The moonlight cast a bluish tint on her flowing dark hair and her white skin looked luminescent.
When I’d bought my hideaway in Malibu, this was what had been in the back of my mind, that I would someday have someone special to share it with. It was in those moments when her fingers were interlaced with mine that I realized I really liked who I was with her.
Now carrying our shoes, we walked barefoot through the waves, not much minding the cold because we were cold-blooded ourselves.
She splashed with abandon through the waves and glanced up at me as if she’d discovered some secret of the universe and wanted to tell me about it.
“What is it, Justine?”
She impulsively threw her arms around my neck and laid a kiss on me that would have left me breathless, if I’d possessed the physical need to breathe. “Fang, do you mind if I write about you?”
I laughed. “Wait a minute. In this incredible romantic setting, that’s what you’re thinking about? Your writing?”
“It’s who I am, Fang.” She paused. “It’s a compliment that I want to write down every moment we spend together, and whatever I don’t know about you, I’ll just invent the rest and call it fiction.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You inspire me! I want to capture every kiss, every touch, every word.”
“That’s daunting. Whatever we do and say is going to end up in your book?”
“If that’s okay.”
I considered my answer. “I would never try to suppress your creativity, but if everything I do is for posterity, I guess I’d better be more romantic. More interesting.” I puffed up my chest. “More macho.”
