by E G Bateman
Dick’s gaze once again swiveled to the other man.
“Let’s go then. Muscles and I can get better acquainted.” He placed a hand on Scott’s thigh and blue sparks erupted from the young man’s skin to hurl the vampire out of the booth.
The bar went silent as people watched him skid across the floor.
Lexi smiled at Dick, who was on his butt several feet away.
He stood and dusted himself off. “I’m not averse to a little rough play but not when I’m wearing Versace.”
“Sorry. It’s kind of automatic.” Scott didn’t look even remotely sorry as he stood from the booth.
She did her best to hide a smile. “Don’t take offense, Scott. He was only checking your credentials.”
“Yeah, that was what it felt like he was doing.” The man’s face was aflame.
“So, you are her blood-match. Interesting. Sorry, handsome. You’re cute but the surfer-dude thing really isn’t my type. I’d rather take you for a good haircut.” Dick picked his newspaper up and headed to the door.
They drove back to the motel and the vampire followed in his own car.
“You’re quiet.” Lexi glanced at her companion, who had sat with his head down.
“I revealed my ability. I shouldn’t have done that. He knows you get magic from me now.”
“He’d already guessed and was testing a hypothesis. Don’t let it eat at you.”
Scott pulled the visor down and looked at himself in the mirror.
“Seriously? You’re offended because he said you’re not his type?”
“No. Well, what’s wrong with my hair?”
“Nothing. If you have what every other man has inside his pants, you’re his type. He’s merely trying to undermine your self-confidence. I told you, he’s an absolute son-of-a-bitch.”
“Do you call him ‘Dick’ because he likes—”
“No. That’s purely a coincidence.”
They pulled up and got out of the car.
Dick climbed out of his vehicle and walked toward them. “I couldn’t believe it when you pulled into this shithole. This is the worst place in town. Even the guy with the meth lab in room twelve complained about the smell and moved out. Is Dolores punishing you for something?”
The three of them headed up the steps and entered the room.
The vampire appeared to try not to touch anything. “I heard about a man who woke up in one of the rooms here. He’d paced around it for two days before housekeeping came in and he finally realized he wasn’t in the county lock-up.” He gave Lexi a conspiratorial wink.
Scott looked at him. “That’s not true.” He didn’t look completely convinced that it wasn’t, though.
“No, but it could be,” the vampire admitted as he looked around in disgust.
“I need to use the bathroom. I hope it’s not too gross.” Scott walked toward the door with obvious reluctance.
“It’s really clean. This place isn’t so bad,” Lexi called as he entered. She sat on her bed and stared at the bathroom door while she waited.
Scott stepped out again and his face was white.
Lexi felt his sadness through their empathetic link. “Look, people get murdered every day. At least they scrubbed the tub with bleach after.”
“It wasn’t a murder.”
“How does he—” Dick began.
Lexi shook her head to silence him.
“There’s no fear, only sadness.” Scott sat on the end of the bed in front of the mirror.
“Don’t do this, Scott.” Lexi knew what was coming.
“I’m curious.” He muttered the words so softly that even Dick with his vampire hearing probably couldn’t hear them.
The mirror reflecting the young man wavered and reversed everything that had happened in the room. It went back a few hours and revealed Lexi, her face twisted in obvious pain as she adjusted her breasts in the leather vest. The older man laughed and she face-palmed.
The image reversed faster. It showed a maid, the crime scene cleaners, the CSIs, the police, and the same maid backing away from the bathroom with horror on her face. Finally, a gaunt woman appeared surrounded by drug paraphernalia and looked like she’d simply had enough. He whispered a final word and the mirror returned to its natural state.
The three of them were silent. Scott stood, moved to sit at the top of the bed, and opened his new book—a sorcery tome Lexi assumed he’d probably picked up from a Seven-Eleven.
Dick went to the mirror and poked it with his index finger, and his manicured fingernail tapped the glass. “The moment I get home, I will smash every mirror in my house. Then I’ll have them ground to dust.” He paused, spun on his heel, and faced the others. “But she’s in a better place now. Let’s talk about me.”
“I can see now why she calls you Dick. It’s because you’re a total dick, isn’t it?”
“Good guess, but no.” Lexi shook her head.
“It’s not?” The vampire was clearly surprised by this revelation.
Scott looked from the mirror to her. “If that leather vest is so uncomfortable, why don’t you wear a different one? You must have at least twenty of them.”
“They’re all uncomfortable. I hate them all.”
"You hate leathers? But that’s all you wear.” His face was a mask of puzzlement.
Lexi stood before the mirror. "Hell, yes! They’re tough, flexible, and they accentuate the curves. For the purpose of gathering information, there’s nothing better.” She slid her hand over the tight leather jeans and looked at him in the mirror. “But they make me sweat horribly since they don't breathe." She turned to Dick. “You don't breathe. I bet this would look good on you."
He glanced at her with one perfectly annoying—because it was perfect—eyebrow raised. "Why would you think I don't breathe? How do I speak?"
With a casual gesture, he flicked off some lint she couldn't see—and her eyesight was good enough to have seen it, she thought.
"Besides," he finished as he preened like a cat, "I make everything look good."
"Have you been told you can be an arrogant ass?" She pulled at her leather vest. The girls needed air. He raised that annoying eyebrow, so she clarified, "I mean, lately?"
Dick sighed and moved to stand at the door and waved his face with the newspaper. “I hate this town in the summer. It’s too hot.”
“It’s Palm Springs. It’s always hot.” Silently, though, she agreed. “Why do you care? You’re dead.”
“Maintaining an undead body as good as mine requires careful balance. Too many degrees in the wrong direction and I could be standing in a puddle of fat bigger than your thighs.” He cast an unimpressed glance at her legs.
“There’s nothing wrong with my thighs.” She smoothed the leather over her muscular legs.
His lip lifted into a smirk. “Do you ever see the skinny girls complain about sweat rash?”
“I’ve never seen a skinny girl clinically decapitate a smartass vamp with her thighs.”
Dick cracked his neck and stepped into the room. “So, when do you plan to leave town?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll be gone as soon as the job’s done. Aren’t you late for your date?” she asked.
“You mean the date where I have dinner with Leonard? Where he’ll be pissed at me at first, then hang on my every word? Then we go back to his house, screw each other’s brains out for hours, and he’ll profess his undying love for me…again. That date?”
“I guess.” She wondered why he had a problem with that scenario.
“What’s the point? As far as I’m concerned, it’s done. We just did it, right there in my mind where it was probably better than, as I recall, it is in reality. Nauseatingly predictable.” He rolled his eyes.
“I see. So, in this scenario in your mind, did he give you the information we need?”
“Oops. I forgot that part. I should probably get ready. I don’t want to be late for my date. When did you last go on a date, Alexa?” He smirked when he loo
ked at her.
Scott glanced up from his book at the mention of her full name. A flicker of a smile betrayed his intentions.
“Alexa, play ‘All by Myself’ by—” He stopped speaking as a spinning metal object shredded his book but was halted by the blue aura around his body.
“That joke got old already.” She stood in a relaxed pose where she leaned against the dresser and enjoyed the confused look on his face. He hadn’t even seen her move and she knew it.
He snatched the throwing star from the air and placed it on the bedside table. “This book was new.”
“Where did it come from?” She tried to see the cover but he put it into his bag.
“Target.”
“Do you think you should try to use a book of spells from Target? You know that shit will backfire, don’t you?”
“It’s not about the spell. It’s the magic behind it.” Scott’s tone was prickly.
“If you want to make yourself useful, help me get out of these leathers.” Lexi headed to the bathroom.
He bolted to his feet and took a step toward her.
“From out there.” She closed the bathroom door. “I only need a second to…”
Scott muttered an incantation under his breath and moved his fingers as though to snap them, although they never met.
Metal clanged on tiles and reverberated around the walls as throwing stars, knives, and other trade tools fell to the bathroom floor. Lexi stood naked except for one gold ring on her hand and gazed at the weapons around her, then looked at her leathers, which were hung neatly over the chair.
“Sorry,” Scott shouted. “But you know you shouldn’t keep all that stuff in your pocket, right?”
Lexi, although naked, slipped her hand in and out of the magical pocket at her hip that appeared and disappeared at her command. He was right. This job could not be over fast enough.
She shook the thought off and stood at the mirror while she delved into her cosmetic bag. After a moment, she retrieved the dental floss and pulled off a length while shouting out to him. "I'll take the first opportunity to assassinate the person who decided 'Alexa' could be a name to call their artificial assistant. Hell, it doesn't even have to be for much money. Maybe like…five dollars and a burger." She thought for a moment. "I'll accept an IOU on the burger."
"That's a good life choice for those thighs, dear,” Dick shouted through the door.
“Are you still here?” She toyed with the idea of trying to kill him again.
“I’m going, I’m going,” he responded. “You kids have a great time and don’t stay out too late.” She gave him the finger through the closed bathroom door.
He laughed. “I saw that.”
Five minutes later, Lexi emerged from the bathroom in gray sweatpants and a t-shirt. She crossed to the small round trash can and opened its swing lid to toss the used floss into it. With a startled exclamation, she leapt back as light burst from the can and a 3D projection beamed into the center of the room. The figure of a crouched woman stood before her. “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.”
“Motherfucker! Scott, if you do that one more time…” She walked through the projection, which instantly disappeared.
Scott rolled on his bed, clutching his stomach as he laughed. “That was so funny.”
Lexi glanced at her scar. The magic had almost dissipated again. She walked to him and held her hand out. He took it and transferred magic to her. As she walked to the door, she stretched her arm to reveal the raw, magical wound and hesitated. Because she hadn’t been born with magic like Scott, they called Lexi’s magic “borrowed.” It was a curious term because she had paid dearly for it. She touched the scar.
This wasn’t borrowed. It was bought.
Her companion had stopped laughing and now looked nervously at her.
All matched legacies had finite magic, hers more than most. She only used it in dire situations.
Oh, what the hell.
“You should shut up now, smart ass.” She stroked the length of the scar and looked directly at him with a little smile.
Scott pawed at his mouth in horror as his top and bottom lips merged to form a seal.
“I’m going for a run.” Lexi headed out with a broad grin.
She felt the sense of panic from him through their empathetic link and slowed on the stairs. On the bottom step, she waited for a few moments and had begun to return to the room when the feeling subsided. He had removed the spell. She set off at a leisurely pace.
Lexi ran in the direction of the client’s bar, interested to see what kind of establishment it was. When she approached the corner and saw it was dark, she decided to do a lap of the block. She passed the bar, then a flower shop. Every other business was boarded up, seemingly closed forever. At the next turn, more buildings stood with boards covered in graffiti over the windows. The next street was bordered with a fence that warned of armed patrols. When she reached the entrance, a message read Twenty-Four Hour Storage: Closed for remodel.
She slowed as she reached the side of the bar and narrowed her eyes as a flashlight played along the wall behind the fence. She stopped and listened to men’s whispered voices.
“Shh! I heard something.”
“What was it?”
“It sounded like someone running.”
“If someone in this neighborhood is running, they’re running for their life. They’ve got their own shit going on.”
“Hurry. Let’s get this done. Throw it everywhere.”
Something splashed, followed by the smell of gasoline. That was all she needed.
She retrieved a glass vial of vampire blood from her pocket, unstoppered it, and tipped it onto her finger. Quickly, she ran the finger down her tongue and felt the thrill as adrenaline flooded her system. Her senses went into overdrive. The darkness of the night lifted, and she heard two people breathing and smelled body odor, cheap deodorant, and gun oil. She knew she already had an edge, being faster and stronger than normal humans, but the extra boost helped enormously.
This is what it would be like if my abilities were as strong as they should be.
Unfortunately, the only sense that wasn’t improved by the vamp blood was her sense of self-preservation.
She hopped the fence.
“Hi. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” She gave them her best disarming smile. It was perhaps ambitious for the situation but sometimes, it worked. On the street, they would probably have been confident and at ease in her presence. These two were in the act of carrying out a crime so they were jumpy, a common failing.
The one with the gas can spun and spilled the contents on his friend. He dropped the container on the ground and immediately tripped over it. The other was faster, reached into the back of his jeans for his gun, and aimed it at her. She wondered if she should have taken a few moments to plan before she leapt in.
The die was cast, though, so she shrugged and ignored the weapon. “I only wondered what you were doing.”
He looked at the building and then at the can of gasoline. “You need this explained to you?”
Lexi glanced at the gun and then at the man who held it. She needed to get him farther away from the building. “Don’t shoot me or we’ll all go up in flames.”
His eyes narrowed and he sneered. “Statistically unlikely.”
Not today, fuckwit.
“Good, then.” She turned away and walked toward the fence while she activated the magic in her scar.
The men ran after her and, as expected, the gunman didn’t shoot.
The first to reach her was the unarmed man and he grasped her hair and yanked her back. She felt and heard hair rip from her scalp as she fell and noticed that the other put his gun away. Rather than struggle, she allowed her weight to take her completely to the ground before she rolled onto her shoulders and kicked upward with her heel under her captor’s chin. His head snapped back and he fell. She flipped onto her feet, her focus on the second man. He drew the gun again,
raised it, fired, and screamed when her magic caused the weapon to erupt in his hand.
Lexi was tempted to leave him burning but couldn’t risk the building igniting. She attempted to douse the flame with magic but her scar was empty.
“Shit. It looks like we have to do this the old-fashioned way,” she said to the shrieking, flailing man.
She kicked, felled him, and rolled him across the ground with her foot until the flames were out.
“I don’t suppose you’d consider telling me who sent you?” she asked as she crouched beside his now unmoving form.
He sucked in a single breath, then died.
“I’ll take that as a no.” She stood and checked the vitals on the other man, who was also dead. Lexi hopped the fence and finished her run.
Chapter Three
“Do you have to do that when I’m trying to sleep?” Scott turned his pillow over, punched it, and yanked the covers over his head to escape the morning sunlight flooding through the gossamer-thin curtains.
Lexi looked up from the whetstone she used to sharpen her katana, one eyebrow raised. “So you’re speaking to me now?”
Her friend sat and pointed at her. “You left me in a vulnerable situation last night. What if someone had attacked me while you were on your run and I couldn’t speak my protection spells?”
She rolled her eyes. “We both know you’d reversed the spell seconds after I left the room.” With that, she lowered her head and her focus returned to the whetstone.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t finished. “You used my own magic against me. Where did you even learn something like that?” He touched his mouth again and felt around his cheeks. “It was hideous.”
“A great mage once said, ‘It’s not the spells, it’s the magic behind them.’” She didn’t look up.
His stuttering as he ranted threatened to crack her stoic façade. “What a pile of crap!” His eyes narrowed a moment. “Who said that?”
Lexi focused on him with a gleam in her eye. “You—yesterday. You muppet.” She smiled.
Satisfied with the sharpness of the blade, she stood and slid the katana into the magical dimensional pocket hidden within her tight leather pants.
