Vampire Innocent (Book 10): A Vampire’s Guide To Adulting

by Cox, Matthew S.

  The boys stare at me like I’ve got the answers.

  Grr.

  Maybe I should try to get in contact with Damarco? He’s closer to being a legit vampire hunter than these two. Doubt he’s tangled with an elder at all much less five of them. A vampire calling in a hunter on other vampires also feels kinda weird, like I’d be breaking some unwritten rule. Sure, I’m Follows Rules Girl, but keeping my head down and being a narc are totally different. Yes, this group of psychos needs to be stopped, but if other vamps start thinking of me as the vampire who hates vampires, it’s not going to end well for me—or my family.

  Am I applying the Mafia comparison too much? No, not really. As far as Stefano or Paolo are concerned, me calling Damarco in on this is no different from a made man working with the FBI—and the Mob doesn’t kill traitors in nice ways.

  Sorry, Mom, but some situations deserve the F-bomb. I’d shout it, but the boys’ parents are downstairs.

  This is over my head. I blink. Exactly. What does the kid do when they see something over their head? They tell Mom or Dad. No, not going to my parents… they can’t help with this. Mom will panic and Dad will tell me to wear a headband. Dammit, I left the one he got me back home. Whatever, I’m not at all planning to get into a fight.

  Time to talk my way out of a problem.

  “Got an idea. Going to talk to some people I met who might be able to help.”

  “More vampires?” asks Cody, frowning.

  “Duh,” mutters Ben. “Who else would she call, the FBI?”

  I chuckle. “Oddly enough, there is something… not sure if they’re FBI or CIA, but… no. Not gonna involve them yet.”

  The boys exchange a ‘whoa, holy crap’ stare.

  Out comes my iPhone. Let me see what Jermaine thinks.

  23

  The Wild West

  Mostly to cover my butt, I give the boys a mild compulsion to stay quiet until I’m off the phone.

  Don’t want Jermaine or anyone who might be listening in on the call to hear me talking about vampire stuff while boys too young to be turned are in the room. No, I have no plans to turn them, but some vampires get their panties in a wad if certain topics are discussed openly in front of mortals.

  I call the number on the back of the Delirium business card.

  “Mammoth Erections Contracting,” says Jermaine by way of answering. “No job too hard. You need it up, we’ll get it up.”

  Takes me a moment to control my giggling enough to speak. “Jermaine? It’s Sarah, we met last night.”

  “Oh, hey, darling. Couldn’t stop thinking about li’l ol’ me? Hate to break your heart, but you’re not my type.”

  Heh. “You’re unforgettable. Had a question. I’m still in the area and ran into a situation I’m not equipped to deal with.”

  “Do tell.”

  “There’s a house in Ventura, former funeral home. A group of vampires, pretty sure they’re elders, are using it as a kill factory. They’re abducting homeless people, prostitutes, and anyone else they can get a hold of, draining them dead, and cremating the bodies.”

  “Ooh. Sounds like they’re being a little melodramatic, but what did you expect for Ventura? You probably ought to get gone sooner rather than later, honey.”

  I blink. “Umm… what did I expect? Vampires not being so obvious about it. The local news is blowing up with missing person stories. Someone needs to do something here.”

  “Doubt anyone in San Diego’s goin’ ta get involved. It’s the vampire Wild West. All the wackos end up there one way or the other eventually—or Salem. Ain’t your problem. Why you makin’ a deal of it?”

  I stare down at the rug. “Because kill-feeding is wrong. And more than the simple evil of it, they’re eventually going to attract the attention of hunters. These vamps are pretty old and have obviously done this before. They’ll know when it gets too hot and move on to somewhere else, leaving all the non-insane vamps to deal with the invasion of hunters. It’s the exact opposite of what we’re supposed to be doing.”

  Ben and Cody look at me like ‘more hunters? Awesome. What’s the problem?’

  Sigh.

  “We’re on the same page, baby. I agree it’s not optimal, but this is San Diego and that’s Ventura.”

  Grr. I furrow my brows. “Are you saying vampires have jurisdictional limits like cops?”

  “Nah. More like the way you ain’t terribly inclined to clean up dog poop in your neighbor’s yard.” He chuckles into a sigh. “But, I suppose this be the kinda dog poop what explodes and gets on everyone. All right. You do have something of a point. Meet me at the club and we’ll go talk to Cassandra.”

  I swallow. “Umm. You want me to meet Cassandra? Should I find some nicer clothes?”

  “Nah. Don’t worry about it. She won’t care. And you look more earnest in jeans.”

  “All right. I’m about an hour away.”

  “Cool. Cool. See ya in an hour then.”

  “Okay.” I end the call, ending the condition of my command for the boys to stay quiet.

  They explode into a flurry of questions. When they stop and stare at me, I hold my hands up in a wait gesture.

  “This problem is not one we can do anything about directly. I’m going to speak to the person who’s politically in charge around here. Sorta. Ventura is kind of outside their territory. Still, it’s the best option.”

  Cody thrusts his arms out to either side. “You said hunters are going to show up. How many more people have to die before they notice? Can we contact them now?”

  “Guys…” I sigh at the ceiling. “This house has at least three elders. There are five vampires total. Dunno if the three who haven’t left the place are all elders. One, five, or ten in the same place feels the same. This is the kind of situation where it would take a large group of multiple hunters to have any chance of winning, and they’d probably still lose a lot of people.”

  “Whoa. You’ve seen this before?” asks Ben.

  I fidget. “Only in movies.”

  They both smirk at me.

  “Look, just promise me you guys will sit tight and wait for me to get back. Hopefully, I’ll have good news.”

  “Do what you gotta.” Ben spins around in his chair to watch the camera. “Don’t like you dealing with other vamps, though. We don’t trust ’em.”

  “Do you trust me?” I tilt my head.

  Cody nods. “Yeah. We know you. You saved our asses in the weird place. You could’ve killed us or erased our brains multiple times, and didn’t. So, yeah, we trust you. But we don’t know any others. Can’t just go trusting every bloodsucker we see because we met one who’s cool.”

  “What he said.” Ben points his thumb over his shoulder at his brother.

  “You guys saved my ass too in there. I’m trying to return the favor now.” I half climb out the window again. “Just, stay safe. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  24

  So Many Questions

  Existence as a vampire has to be about more than fashion and social politics.

  After all, we’re powerful undead beings in possession of mystical powers and abilities, not Kardashians. Well, they’re probably vampires, too. Can’t think of any other reason but mind-control for why they’re famous. But seriously, Aurélie is obsessed with elaborate dresses. Most of the vampires at those soirees are all dressed to the nines. The main reason anyone goes there is to be seen around the prominent people.

  Here I am flying back to San Diego when I really ought to be going home. Ben and Cody would almost certainly get themselves killed if left to their own devices. Even sillier than the idea of them taking on a group of elders is me worrying about meeting Cassandra Upton in jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt. It feels like a significant portion of my worries after becoming a vampire have been about fashion—or the lack of it.

  Emerging naked from a morgue cooler feels like fate mocking me with a birth metaphor. I’m sure most vampires don’t spend their first twenty-four hours
among the undead naked… or locked in a tiny mausoleum. Or thinking they’re dreaming it all. Yeah, so I had a non-traditional start. The majority of those who receive the Transference are aware vampires exist before they are turned, whether or not they accept the change willingly. A point could be made about Glim only being aware of vampires for a few seconds before his sire bit him, but he still had more time as a mortal knowing about them than I did.

  Looking back on it, it’s kind of embarrassing to have been a vampire who didn’t realize vampires existed.

  Maybe those remote tribes in the Amazon or whatever have the right idea. People can’t be fashion snobs if no one wears clothes. It would make for a bizarre world, wouldn’t it? Can you picture naked police officers chasing a naked burglary suspect down the street, stuff flapping around all over the place? Blind people couldn’t tell if guys were clapping or jogging. Criminals might be too busy laughing to flee. But, yeah… the world isn’t supportive of the idea. The planet itself I mean, not society. Some places are simply too cold for mass global nudity.

  Yes, it’s absurd. Yes, I’m stressing out and thinking of random nonsense.

  Mass global nudity would, however, prevent me from having an anxiety attack over walking into what’s basically the vampire mayor’s office dressed like a college slacker. A more reasonable solution would be uniforms. Every country gets a different uniform. Like private schools. They do it so kids don’t pick on each other for fashion choices. Doesn’t help much. Kids will pick on each other for anything. Cheap, ugly, or dirty clothing is only one small part of a massive pie.

  But at least I wouldn’t have to worry about meeting Cassandra and feeling like a scrub.

  Doesn’t help I’ve been stuck in the same clothes since Friday. Being an Innocent comes with all the nice parts of being so close to alive as well as all the bad parts—like sweat. I haven’t even taken my pants off to use the bathroom once since Saturday. Don’t need to unless I eat human food. All that stuff trapped in place, no air moving. Yeah, I feel funky as hell. I don’t smell anything weird, but people generally don’t notice their own stink.

  I’m sure if I’m rank, Jermaine will warn me.

  Innocent or not, I’m still a vampire and don’t generate funkiness quite as fast as a living person.

  And what the hell is wrong with me? The Littles are home without adult supervision, Cody and Ben are separated from a brutal death by a thin veil of uncertainty holding back their stupidity, and I’m worrying about what to wear. Gotta be nerves.

  I couldn’t care less what anyone thinks of me due to my fashion sense. It’s more like I don’t want to wind up in ‘contempt of court’ for being too casual around the political leader of the area. Whatever. If Jermaine said no big deal, it’s gotta be no big deal.

  Roughly an hour after leaving the boys’ house, I swoop in to land in the darkness behind the Delirium club. The place is obviously in operation, but there’s no one else out here. I head around the building on foot and spot Jermaine hanging out by the main entrance, talking to a pair of well-dressed guys in dark suits, both of whom are also vampires—and total dudebros. At least by looks. Guessing this is Chad and Trevor. Or one of them’s a Jake. Bet they used to work in sales.

  Jermaine’s in a clingy blue long-sleeved shirt, skinny jeans, simple silver necklace chain and snakeskin boots with elongated pointy toes—not exactly an outfit anyone would consider wearing to court.

  “Hey,” I say in a low voice after walking up to him.

  “Sarah.” He shifts to face me. “Meet Greg and Tom. They’re both fairly recent additions.”

  Wow. For sure I thought the blond guy was going to be ‘Chad.’ I wave. “Hey.”

  Greg and Tom both give me a polite smile of greeting, a note of confusion on their faces as if it surprises them I’m a vampire. Their body language gives off a sense of distancing, like I’m their girlfriend’s kid sister they’d rather not deal with or even be near. Works for me.

  “Ready?” asks Jermaine.

  “Yeah. Beyond ready. I’m still hoping to make it home tonight.”

  “C’mon.” Jermaine waves to the dudebros. “Back soon. Try not to burn the place down.”

  Tom makes a clicking noise and finger guns at Jermaine.

  Oh, douche. Yeah, he’s totally a sales weasel of some kind. Or was.

  Jermaine leads me into the parking lot to a newish black Mercedes sedan.

  Okay, odd. Maybe he can’t fly. I keep forgetting it’s not a universal ability, merely common.

  “Cassandra lives a ways off from downtown. Nice place.” Jermaine starts the engine. “Take us about twelve minutes to get there. Hope you’re not in too much of a rush.”

  “It’s twelve minutes I’m not on the way home, but not a big deal if it stops—I mean helps keeps hunters away.” Whew. Almost said stops the guys from being idiots.

  Jermaine glances at me. “Gonna be honest with ya, honey. I’m not seein’ Cassandra losin’ too much sleep over it. She might send some eyes up there to check it out, but if you’re expectin’ the ‘vampire police’ to go boot heads, you’re gonna be disappointed.”

  I let a silent sigh out my nose. Yeah, I had kinda been hoping the situation would be fixed right away, but he’s got a point. It’s like asking government to help with anything. Takes forever, may or may not actually happen, and when it does happen, the results are disappointing—or they make the situation worse.

  Ugh. Maybe I should forget about this entirely and go home—after giving the boys a compulsion to stay away from ‘the Klopeks.’ Yeah, sounds easy to say. But, this is me after all. For the same reason I didn’t leave Ava Marquez handcuffed to a post in the basement, I’m going to see Cassandra Upton.

  “So… what should I expect of her?” I ask, a few minutes into the ride.

  Jermaine’s driving in the most casual posture I’ve ever seen anyone adopt inside a moving car. His seat’s way back. Left hand on the wheel, right elbow on the center console, body shifted sorta sideways. Yeah, he’s still mentally in the late Sixties. He’s so ‘chill’ I can almost feel a marijuana high creeping in. Or what I imagine it would be like.

  “Cassandra’s a lot like I imagine she was in the 1800s when she ran a saloon out here. Lady knows what she wants and how to get it. Knows who she is and makes no attempt to hide it. Word is, it’s how she caught the eye of the one who turned her. Thought a woman ‘entirely lacking in social graces’ deserved to stick around for a while.” He chuckles.

  I glance over at him. “Lacking in social graces? Was she a, umm…?”

  “Prostitute? Nah. Cassandra ran a respectable place. Strictly gambling, booze, and information. I’m talkin’ like they did back then.” He grins. “When they said a woman’s ‘lacking in social graces,’ it’s a nice way of sayin’ she didn’t let men boss her around and didn’t treat people better for havin’ money.”

  “Oh, so she’s strong and down to Earth?”

  “Maybe. Far as I’m concerned, she’s pretty much normal. But, normal for these days is radical in 1800.”

  “True.” I nod.

  Best to go into this meeting and not expect anything. Being in the car with Jermaine, I can’t help but wonder how vampires who’ve been alive for so long process changes in social norms. Heck, Uncle Hank hasn’t been alive nearly as long as some vampires but his head is firmly stuck in the racist, sexist, backward mentality of the 1950s. One thing for a mostly harmless old man to hold those views, but a vampire elder? Ack. Though, I’m guessing most vampires of a certain age feel so superior to mortal humans they tend to lose sight of ethnic boundaries and lump everyone together into a single ‘lesser mortals’ category.

  “You know,” says Jermaine in a wistful tone. “I hear she’s still got the six-shooter she used to carry on her in the saloon before she… lost her mortality.”

  I chuckle. “You say it the way most guys say ‘lost her virginity.’”

  Jermaine laughs, barely moving his hand to make a lane change in an
ticipation of an upcoming left turn. “Situations are more or less similar. Both open the doors to a world of wonders a person’s previously unaware of, and there ain’t no undoin’ it once it’s done.”

  Can’t help but cringe a little inside at the memory of my first experience going all the way. Wasn’t ready for the pain—or the blood. Scott got mad at me ‘for overreacting’, stopped abruptly, and left me there bleeding. Honestly, I should’ve broken up with him the next day. Would have saved me months of self-doubt and anxiety.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Don’t know?”

  I blush a little. “No, I’m not as innocent as I look.”

  He grins. “You seem embarrassed. Sorry. I’ll change the subject.”

  “It’s fine. Just bad memories.”

  “Don’t let it get to you. Virginity is a bullshit social construct.” He waves his free hand around randomly as he talks. “A person’s worth to society don’t have a got-damn thing to do wit’ how much or how little booty they get. The whole concept defies understanding. Some dude gets a ton of tail, he’s virile, elevated, and respected. Girl gets a ton of tail, they make her out to be some kinda horrible person. Mofos like me, well… people just don’t talk about us in polite company.” He wags his eyebrows at me. “Don’t matter. I don’t hang out with polite company. It’s just a fancy way to say ‘stuck up jackasses.’”

  I chuckle. “Sounds like you know a lot about the subject.”

  Jermaine makes ‘bitch please’ face at me. “Honey, I am the PhD of love.”

  “Heh.” I kinda zone out, thinking of Hunter… and how odd it is for vampires to want or even appreciate sex.

  “Don’t get your hopes up though. I’m taken.”

  I snap out of my daydream—wait, do vampires have daydreams or nightdreams when we’re awake? “Huh? What?”