Good, the Bad, and the Vampire

by Sara Humphreys

  “Oh, you’re such a poop.” Maya waved dismissively and looked at the pathetic fool beneath her. “We were just having a little fun,” she said, stroking his head the way one would pet a dog. “Weren’t we, baby?”

  Maya smacked him on the ass, and he whimpered, a sound that hung somewhere between pleasure and pain. She straddled him like a horse and leaned in, slowly licking the blood that still dripped from the wound she’d made in his neck. Maya looked like a cat playing with a mouse. The poor bastard had probably been toyed with like this all day long, which meant Maya had not slept.

  Great.

  The smell of blood grew stronger, and Olivia watched Maya lick a trickle of red from his neck as she writhed seductively on his back. He closed his eyes, grunted, and shuddered as the orgasm ripped through him.

  Olivia’s fangs erupted, but she quickly willed them away, disgusted by her lack of self-control. It was no wonder this mess aroused her. Between the blood, the sexual energy, and her abstinence, it was bound to happen. Her maker, Vincent, never understood her self-imposed celibacy, although that wasn’t terribly surprising—he’d never been in love. If he had watched the love of his life die in his arms, then he might have a better grasp of why Olivia was unwilling to open her heart again. Most vampires could separate sex and love, but that was one little piece of the vampire world she never adjusted to.

  Olivia. She jumped as Vincent’s sharp voice cut into her mind. Just because you haven’t had sex in centuries, that is no reason to start salivating over this childish nonsense.

  Speak of the devil. Olivia had not seen hide nor hair of her maker in over fifty years, but given his emotional eavesdropping, he must be back in the city. If he had been more than fifty miles away, he would not have been able to sense her feelings so easily. What can I do for you, Vincent?

  Do for me? Nothing, my dear. Can’t a maker check in on his favorite offspring? Olivia tore her gaze away from Maya and swiftly walked behind the bar, creating busywork for herself in an effort to quell the bloodlust and the plain old lust. I’m fine, Vincent. She looked at Maya again briefly, before tending to the stock again. I take it that you’re back in the States? Does this mean that we can expect a visit from you this evening?

  Still celibate, Olivia? It’s obviously not doing you any favors. I can smell your sexual frustration from miles away, and it’s really quite unattractive.

  Are you coming by the club or not? Olivia shielded the telepathic conversation between them because the last thing she needed was Maya, a youngling vampire, butting into it. Vampires could telepath with their sire, progeny, or siblings, and though Maya was her progeny, this conversation was definitely not for her.

  Perhaps. His voice faded as the connection was broken.

  Great. She shoved a stray curl from her face and swore under her breath. Maya decided to act up just when her own maker comes to town. What shitty timing.

  “Maya,” she said more firmly. “Your boy toy has to get going, and you’ve got to get to work.”

  This was her place of business, and she refused to encourage behavior that could jeopardize it, especially by a member of her own coven. She hated to admit it, but Vincent was right. The fact that she had been celibate for almost three centuries was really starting to grate on her.

  At least she had sex dreams.

  Her lips curved at the memories. She might’ve gone bonkers if it weren’t for her dream lover and his talented hands. Three hundred years ago, he’d been her human lover and the only man she’d ever loved, but he was long dead and now only existed in her dreams. The dreamscape was the one place she could find pleasure after all these years.

  There was just one problem. Vampires did not dream.

  Aside from the lack of sunlight, the absence of dreams was one of the hardest losses for new vamps to adjust to. After over two centuries of enduring the leaden dreamless sleep of a vampire, Olivia had practically forgotten what it was like to dream, to fall through the mystical dreamscape and revel in fantasy.

  Then, almost twenty years ago, out of nowhere, she began to dream again.

  The first one freaked her out. It was a sudden burst of color and light after years of slumbering in utter darkness. Her dream lover looked just as he had when she first met him, a young boy entering manhood. Over the years, he aged in her dreams, just as he had when she knew him as a human.

  As fascinated as she was by the dreams, as curious as she was to decipher their meaning, she did not dare mention them to anyone.

  Olivia had heard of only one instance when vampires could dream—the bloodmate legend. Vincent told her the story soon after he turned her, and it gave her hope that her life would not be forever shrouded in the night. However, when she tried to get him to tell her more, he dismissed her harshly and said he knew nothing. He scolded her for being a foolish child and told her the entire story was made up to placate new vampires while they got used to their new lives.

  No one else had ever spoken of it, and the whole legend remained shrouded in secrecy and possessed an air of danger.

  When the ghostly visits first began, she did some research online but found little information, and any references to the bloodmate legend were few and far between. According to the tale, when a vampire found a bloodmate and performed a blood exchange, then both became daywalkers.

  She rubbed at the tattoo on the back of her neck absently. When Douglas’s ghost began visiting her, she had the symbol of eternity inked on her neck, a private reminder of her lost love and her promise to love him, and only him, for eternity.

  Olivia shook her head at her foolishness. Even if there were truth to the whole legend, it was a moot point, since Douglas was long dead. However, dead or not, she kept her pledge of devotion. Maybe the young, innocent girl she used to be lingered inside, because as far as Olivia was concerned, being devoted to someone meant that you did not diddle with anyone else.

  Celibacy was a ridiculous notion for many humans, and positively insane for most vampires, at least the ones she encountered.

  She sighed as she wiped the bar down and glanced at Maya with her flesh-and-blood plaything. Sympathy for the man tugged at what was left of her heart. Olivia didn’t hate humans, quite the opposite in fact, but she did hate the idea of them being feasted on inside her club.

  “Come on, Maya.” She kept her voice even and her eyes trained on the bar stock, noting what needed to be refilled. “You’ve had enough fun for one day. Now, get him out, and don’t forget to glamour him again before you leave him. Why don’t you give him a pleasant memory? He was kind enough to provide you with life-giving blood, so the least you can do is give him a memory that will make him smile.”

  “Oh fine,” she pouted. “He’ll think we fucked like rabbits all day long and that he rocked my world.”

  Maya leaned in and licked his wound closed, leaving no evidence behind. She whispered to her prey, erasing all memory of their day together and replacing it with something palatable. He stood slowly and adjusted his crotch, while looking around the empty club somewhat bewildered.

  “You better be back here in an hour ready to work,” Olivia shouted. “I don’t want to hear any complaining. You chose not to sleep, so don’t make that choice a problem for the rest of us.”

  “My goodness, Olivia,” Maya sang. “Getting cranky in our old age?”

  Her singsong tone made Olivia want to smack her, but she could not prevent the smile that played at her lips. Maya was right. She was a little cranky, but three centuries of no sex or intimacy would do that to anyone.

  “Cut the chatter, and get him out of here,” she said more sharply than intended. She did not want Maya to know that she had been rattled by the situation, because she would never live it down. Olivia glanced at the human who stood there looking confused and found herself feeling sorry for him. “Seriously, let the poor guy off the hook.”

  “Hey…
I gotta get going. I’m really tired. I think I should go.” The big oaf babbled absently. “Man, my knees are killing me,” he mumbled.

  “Poor baby,” Maya purred in a velvety soft voice as she glamoured the boy, giving him false memories in place of the real ones. “We should probably get going. Come on, kitten. I’ll walk you out, but didn’t we have fun at the park today? You’re such a sweetheart for walking me to work this evening and for giving me multiple orgasms last night. You big stud.”

  Maya winked a long-lashed eye over her shoulder at Olivia, as they disappeared into the crisp winter night. Olivia shook her head and smiled in spite of how irritated she was. Maya absolutely loved being a vamp—she genuinely loved it, and there was something refreshing in her enthusiasm. Olivia never found that kind of passion for what she had become, and part of her was a tad jealous of Maya’s love for her vampire life.

  At first, Olivia had been disgusted and frightened, but Vincent had been a patient teacher, and eventually she accepted it.

  But she never loved it.

  Even when she served as a sentry for the Presidium, the vampire government, she did it out of duty, loyalty, and respect. She served her one hundred years as a soldier but retired as soon as her term was up and never looked back. Olivia enjoyed the quiet life of a private citizen, even though she never expected that to include a coven of her own.

  As she readied the club for that evening’s patrons, her mind wandered to the night she sired Maya, and her smile quickly faded. She found her in the alley behind the club just before dawn, raped and beaten to within an inch of her life. The dirtbag who had done it dumped her there like garbage, and raw anger still flared at the memory.

  Olivia sensed it the moment he dropped her broken body next to the dumpster. Maya would have died if she hadn’t been turned; there was no time for ambulances or hospitals, and even though it had been almost five years since that night, she remembered it like it was yesterday. It was the last time she killed a human.

  The memory both sickened and frightened her because when she drained that piece of shit dry—she loved every fucking minute. Olivia relished watching the fear in his eyes as she pinned him against the wall of his bedroom and savored his whimpering pleas for his life as he struggled uselessly. She took pure pleasure in feeling his heart slow, beat by beat, as the life faded from his eyes.

  The red haze of rage consumed her, took her over, and blinded her.

  Olivia swallowed the bile that rose in her throat, disgusted with her basest instincts and the primal pleasure she took from eviscerating him. She was a monster. A killer. No different from the vicious, pathetic excuse for a man she killed.

  But there was a price to pay for her vengeance—there’s always a price.

  His blood memories would remain with her for eternity, and that was her penance. The horror and fear of all the women he raped lingered in her memories now, including Maya’s last conscious, horrifying hours as a human.

  Monsters don’t go unpunished, and Olivia knew she was no different.

  * * *

  The music pounded loudly through the club as it reverberated through Olivia’s body. She walked the dance floor, taking note of the various humans writhing with one another amid the pulsating lights. She stuck out like a sore thumb, since she was the only one wearing a black Armani suit, not the leather or spikes of her faithful patrons.

  Olivia waved at the regular customers peppered throughout the club and allowed herself a moment of pride. The Coven had become one of the most popular dance clubs for the Goth set in NYC, and she had worked her ass off to make it happen.

  She paced the floor more than usual tonight because she had been on edge ever since walking in on Maya. She could not afford any mistakes that would draw human attention or piss off the Presidium. Humans were easy enough to deal with, but she was less than pleased at the idea of vampire officials butting their noses into her life.

  She liked it here and had no desire to leave, but the drawback of immortality was that moving on eventually was an annoying necessity—can’t stay somewhere for thirty years if you don’t age. Although, the prevalent use of Botox among humans certainly helped explain her lack of facial wrinkles.

  Olivia scoped out the club and marveled at how far society had come—and yet not.

  Humans who loved to dress like vampires, or what they thought vampires looked like, flocked to this place every night as the sun went down. Except Sunday—she closed the joint on Sunday, since the place used to be a church. She figured it was the least she could do. Olivia grinned and shook her head as she watched the humans wooing one another in their vampire garb.

  Ironically, most vampires did not dress like horror-movie rejects; many adopted the fashion of the era they lived in, but not all did. Vincent, for example, liked the Victorian era so much that sometimes he still adorned himself in a top hat and ascot, although she thought it looked ridiculous. Vampires retained their individuality at least.

  Imagine if they knew this club was owned and operated by an actual vampire who preferred silk and cashmere to leather and spikes. Olivia had to wear the leather sentry uniform every day for a century and loathed the idea of wrapping herself in it again.

  I’d be a sad disappointment to them.

  She glanced to the bar as she made her way to the DJ platform. Maya was playing up her charms with various drooling idiots who were only too happy to give her enormous tips in exchange for the smallest bit of her attention.

  Trixie, her other bartender, was Maya’s opposite but worked her charms with equal fervor. Her short pink-spiked hair and black eyeliner were a stark contrast to Maya’s blond, innocent look. Both vamps were great at bringing in the crowd and keeping them happy. They gave a quick wave to Olivia as she passed, and Maya stuck her tongue out in her usual flippant, childish manner.

  Olivia climbed onto the DJ’s platform and gave Sadie a pat on the back. Sadie was one of the best spinners out there, living or undead, and Olivia’s oldest, most trusted friend. She was dressed much like the patrons of the club, except Sadie actually was a vamp, and the girl had a serious passion for leather and lace.

  “Hey, boss. Feels like a lively crowd tonight.” Sadie winked and smiled. “No pun intended.”

  “Did you hear what Maya did?” Olivia kept her eyes focused on the crowd, her senses alert for anything out of the ordinary. A sense of impending doom flickered up her spine. Trouble was coming. “She’s a pain in my ass.”

  “Sure did, and she sure is.” Sadie put her headphones around her neck. “Think that girl will ever listen?” she asked with a nod toward the bar, as she laughed and pushed her long brown hair out of her eyes. “’Cause I don’t.”

  “Maya’s still young.” Olivia gave Sadie a friendly nudge with her elbow. “It took you a little while to get the hang of it, if I’m not mistaken?”

  Sadie was the first vamp she had ever turned. Olivia and Vincent were traveling through a largely unsettled part of Arizona and picked up the distinctly potent scent of blood. The Apache Indians had been attacking settlers at that time, not that Olivia could blame them, and Sadie’s family had been among their victims.

  Sadie was barely alive when she found her. The faint beat of her heart called to Olivia, and before she even knew what she was doing, she turned her. It was an instinctive need to save her, to help this poor girl who had lost everything, left seemingly alone in the world.

  Vincent, of course, was less than pleased, and that was the beginning of the end for them.

  Olivia looked fondly at her friend and smiled. “You have been around a couple hundred years longer than she has.”

  “Truth.” Sadie winked and adjusted the headphones around her neck. “You’re just a sucker for hard-luck cases. Face it. You would rescue the world if you could.”

  “Not the whole world,” Olivia said dramatically. “Just the ones who really need it.”


  “I sure needed it,” Sadie said with a warm smile.

  Olivia swallowed the surprising lump in her throat before looking back at the crowd. Sadie had tried to thank her on several occasions, but Olivia never let her get the words out. Deep down inside she felt as though she hadn’t saved Sadie or the others. Perhaps the vampire hunters of the world were right. What if vamps really were damned to burn in hell for eternity? Would anyone thank her then?

  “I should get back down there before Maya finds another boy toy.”

  Sadie grabbed the microphone and Olivia’s arm before she could escape.

  “Everyone having fun?” Sadie bellowed into the silver microphone. The crowd responded with insanely loud screaming and whistling. “Then I think we should all give it up for Olivia Hollingsworth, the owner and proprietor of The Coven.”

  Olivia waved to the screaming crowd and shot her friend a narrow-eyed look as she made her way down from the altar. She hated being the center of attention, and Sadie knew it but delighted in razzing her on occasion.

  Another loud, bass-driven song tumbled over the crowd as Sadie’s voice floated into her head. Hey, boss. I see our VIP table is full again tonight with your boyfriend and his crew.

  Olivia threw an irritated glance over her shoulder at Sadie and shot back. He’s not my boyfriend. He just wishes he was. What a termite. She could hear Sadie stifle a giggle as she navigated the crowd and made her way to Michael’s table.

  How long has it been since you got laid? I forget. Olivia did her best to ignore that last jab from her friend. Other than Vincent, Sadie was the only one who knew that Olivia had been celibate since becoming a vampire. Don’t you think you’ve tortured yourself long enough? I never knew this Douglas guy, but if he really loved you the way you say he did, would he want you to spend eternity alone?

  I’m not alone. Olivia threw a wink over her shoulder. I’ve got all of you, and sex is overrated anyway.