by Bee Murray
No more arguments. No more stalling.
The other vamp pushed past me and leapt into the truck. I gritted my teeth and glared at Baldwin. “I don’t know him. First chance we get, he’s out.”
Baldwin said nothing and I leapt up into the back of the truck and pulled the grate down.
The truck lurched forward as the engine roared to life and took off from the curb.
The back of the truck was dark and cavernous. The breakneck speed and lack of seatbelts or handholds threw my balance off. When we turned a sharp corner, I stumbled against the other vamp, and he growled in the darkness.
My eyes adjusted quickly, and I pushed away from him. We weren’t alone in the back of the truck. I counted three men and one woman braced against the walls of the truck box.
“What the hell,” I muttered and tried to find my balance again. The truck swerved again, and the tires squealed against the pavement. “Baldwin, where are we going?”
He didn’t answer me, and the truck turned again before it picked up speed. Whoever was driving was pushing the rolling bucket of bolts to its limit.
It would be a miracle if it didn’t burst into flames before we got to our destination.
There was a scuffle behind me, and a grunt of surprise. I turned to see what had happened, but before I could react, something solid collided with the back of my head. The force of the blow dropped me to my knees, and I reached up to protect myself. A cloud of cold mist settled over my face and I coughed as it invaded my lungs.
Whatever it was, it burned.
Rage filled my chest, and I tried to draw enough breath to roar, but they had sprayed something in my face that was making my throat close up.
“Stay down you fang-faced bastard,” a voice growled.
A boot connected with my back and drove me onto the rough plywood floor of the truck. I tried to roll away, but the pain in my throat and the pain in my head made it impossible. Passing out was not on my list of favorite things, but it didn’t seem like I had a choice in the matter.
* * *
***
* * *
A strangled scream pierced through the darkness that had enveloped me. It sliced into my skin and jolted me back to consciousness. My head ached, my throat burned, and my stomach rolled. Whatever they had dosed me with was like getting run over by a freight train. It had to be a drug. What else would lay me out like that? I’d tried almost everything, but whatever that was… I did not want to ride that train again.
“Get another stake into him!”
Where the hell was I? Everything sounded strange, and there was a metallic ringing in my ears and the taste of blood and something else in my mouth.
I shook my head and tried to force my eyes to focus. “What the f—”
“Hey, Baldwin… looks like your boy’s waking up!”
I coughed hard and spat a mouthful of blood onto the concrete floor.
Coarse laughter made my headache pound harder.
“Shut up,” Baldwin’s familiar voice growled.
“What — Baldwin, what’s happening?” I croaked.
“What’s happening?” my manager replied smoothly. “I’ll tell you what’s happening. Your little PR maven’s stunt worked. Better than she’d expected, I think.”
He chuckled and pressed something hard against my temple. I flinched away and realized that I couldn’t move my arms.
“You told me — Where’s Tuesday?”
“Don’t you worry,” Baldwin said soothingly. “She’s right where she’s supposed to be. In the middle of a mess of her own making. Well, it’s your mess, really. Isn’t it?”
“What? I don’t… I don’t understand.”
Baldwin shoved against my temple again, and it occurred to me he had always talked about owning a handgun. I’d never seen it, and I’d always doubted that he was telling the truth. But there was something unmistakable about the feel of a muzzle pressed against the side of your head that you just didn’t question.
“Don’t you?” Baldwin whispered.
“Get him again! There’s still space!” The sudden shout rips through the air and I wince at the sound—like a fist slamming into a side of beef.
Another scream tears through the space, and I closed my eyes to try and focus.
Where was I?
It smelled familiar, but I didn’t know what to trust anymore.
“Where is Tuesday?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“You really see nothing you don’t want to,” Baldwin sighed. His hand gripped the top of my head and my eyes flew open as he turned me to the left.
A huddled figure lay sprawled on the floor. All at once, I recognized Tuesday’s jaunty ponytail. Her face was pale and marred by a smear of blood from a wound at her hairline.
“You bastard,” I snarled. I strained against whatever held my arms to my sides. “What did you do?”
“You brought this on yourself, Quake,” another voice growled.
I turned my head to face this new opponent, but as I did, I saw what was making the horrendous noise.
The blond vampire who’d hitched a ride with me to escape the mob at the bookstore was pinned to the wall. Blood soaked his chest and arms, and blood-tears streamed down his face. Long pieces of wood, like lawn darts, pierced his body in more places than I could count. Everywhere but the heart.
Everywhere but where it counted.
Bastards.
His chest heaved and shuddered as the men laughed. These men weren’t the beer-soaked conspiracy-theory believing die-hards. They were clean cut and well dressed; they were the ones who wrote the conspiracy theories and spread rumors that set the internet on fire.
These were the people who hated for the sake of hating. That was what got them off.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“This is what all fang-heads deserve,” one man shouted. His fist slammed into the other vamp’s face, and I struggled harder to free my arms.
Where the hell was my super strength?
Why couldn’t I get out of this?
“It’s the silver,” Baldwin said mildly. “I wasn’t sure if it would work, but the guy who sold it to me said it would be effective. You inhaled more than was probably healthy, but it’s not as though I give a shit.”
I coughed again and tasted blood.
Silver.
“You’re next, Quake!”
More laughter.
“Baldwin, you can’t let them—”
My manager shrugged. “I’m not making the rules here, Vinnie. You brought this on yourself.”
10
VINNIE
Desperation clawed at my stomach as another man punched the helpless vamp pinned to the wall.
I was next.
An undead dartboard.
“What the hell are you talking about? I don’t understand!”
Baldwin shrugged and stepped aside as another man strode toward me. “Of course, you don’t understand, you selfish prick,” the man snarled. “All of this is your fault. All of it!”
I mean, he wasn’t wrong. I had killed my entire staff—all of them. Without a second thought or moment of remorse… That all came later.
“Do I know you?” Panic wasn’t a familiar emotion, and I hated the way it made me feel. The sooner I could get out of this, the better. “Look, whatever you want from me, take it and go. Just let Tuesday out of here.”
“The only thing you have that I want, I’m going to take from you before the sun comes up,” the man said. His smile was strange and unnerving, and I swallowed hard.
“What is it?” I asked as boldly as I could. “Money? No problem. Baldwin can write you a check.”
The man’s fist collided with my jaw, and my head rocked back. Someone laughed, and I glared at the man with as much venom as I could muster.
“Ow.”
“You keep it up, fang-head,” the man snarled. “I’ll wipe that look off your face if it’s the last thing I do. You didn’t care about any
of them. They gave everything to you.”
“What are you talking about?” I shouted. Desperation wasn’t a good look for me, but I was running out of options. “Who?”
“My sister!” the man yelled. His boot slammed into my stomach and knocked me sideways onto the floor.
“She literally dedicated her entire life to you, and how did you repay her? By draining her blood and leaving her for dead! You vampire bastard!”
More blows rained down on my body and I closed my eyes and took the beating, unable to roll out of the way or protect myself.
All at once, the beating stopped and I dared to open my eyes.
“You know that won’t do anything,” Baldwin said mildly.
“I know, but it makes me feel better,” the man panted.
The only other sound in the room was the strangled breathing of the blond vampire.
The man wiped his hand across his sweating brow and nodded to the other men in the room. “Do it,” he commanded.
A scream echoed through the room, cut off by a wet ripping sound that I knew would echo in my dreams for centuries to come… I knew what they’d done. I’d heard whispers about vampire trophy hunters. But I thought they were just that. Whispers.
There was no scream to accompany the acquisition of the second trophy. Just a shuddering moan.
“He’s no fun,” someone complained.
“Finish him,” my attacker said. “We have more work to do.”
The man’s face loomed over me.
“My sister Patricia. You murdered her in cold blood.”
I blinked in confusion. “I — I didn’t know she had any family.”
“Oh, but it was ok to kill her when you thought she was alone? That’s fucked up logic, even for a bloodsucker. You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself.”
The man’s spittle flecked my cheek, but I didn’t turn my head away. I deserved this. He was right. I hadn't cared. I hadn’t given a single solitary shit about anyone for the last five years.
“Do you have anything to say?” the man demanded.
I shrugged helplessly. “I’m sorry.”
Sorry didn’t bring Patricia back. Sorry didn’t bring any of them back. And it wouldn’t save my neck, either. But it was all I had.
“Not good enough,” the angry man snapped. “Pick him up!”
The bonds that held me were released and rough hands dragged me up to my knees. I smiled grimly as feeling rushed back into my fingers. He was going to regret this. But they were one step ahead of me. My revenge was halted when something hard slammed into my chest just below my collarbone.
I looked down in surprise. A wooden stake. How original. Nothing like an old faithful to get the job done. But why didn’t it —
Pain streaked through my body and my back arched, bending me almost in half as I writhed in the grip of the men that held me upright.
Four more strikes slammed into my torso. I heard rather than felt my bones breaking. Ribs shattering. Organs punctured. But the pain. Oh, holy fuck, the pain.
They dropped me and I writhed on the floor, unable to escape, unable to roll away.
I roared in rage and frustration as the nameless men descended on me.
“Zach!”
All at once, everything stopped.
Through the red and black fog of my pain, I heard Baldwin’s voice and the panic in it.
“Zach, we have to go!”
“What? But we’re just getting started,” someone complained.
“Shut up,” Zach commanded. “Why? What’s happening? There’s no sirens. You took care of the alarm. We’re fine. The cops aren’t coming.”
“It’s not the cops,” Baldwin hissed. “It’s the house… it’s rigged—”
“Cameras?” one man asked in a panicked voice.
“Explosives,” Baldwin said grimly. “We have to get out of here…”
Zach looked down at me. His expression was unreadable.
“Leave him,” Baldwin urged. “The fire will take him, and all the evidence, with it. Please!”
Zach frowned and then shook his head. “Come on. You heard the man.”
“But what about the fang-head?” another guy whined.
“Leave him!” Zach barked.
He aimed a vicious kick at my head, but I barely moved when it struck my temple. Every inch of my body burned as though it were already on fire. What was a little kick to all of that?
I’d actually forgotten about the explosion. The carefully planned demolition of my beloved home was scheduled to happen while I was across town being photographed with Sandrina at some dance club while Tuesday monitored everything from the command post.
We were still together, but this was not how the plan was supposed to go down.
Fuck.
I leaned back against the wall and listened to their boots thump down the stairs. The slam of the door confirmed that my attackers had fled my house. There was a sick sort of justice that they left me here, of all places. This was the floor my own victims had laid on just a few days ago.
I was the world’s worst vampire.
I must have been to let myself get blindsided by a bunch of humans.
But the minute they took Tuesday, none of that had mattered.
I acted on impulse when I ran after her kidnappers. It was a blind fit of passion. Backfire. Total fucking backfire.
Tuesday groaned and my cold, undead heart lurched in my chest. Tuesday was alive.
I rolled to my side to face her. She’s pushed herself up to a sitting position, but before I could call out to her, she focused on the body of the blonde vampire and let out a scream.
The sharp sound felt like someone was driving stakes into my ears and rendered me unable to speak to let her know I was there.
With careful movements, I crept forward. Silver-tipped stakes, drenched in Holy Water, I could feel every inch of them. Every movement I made was excruciatingly painful.
“Tuesday.”
My voice sounded hoarse as I whispered her name, desperate to get her to stop screaming.
“Tuesday, it’s me. It’s Vinnie.”
She turned to me slowly, and I felt a fresh surge of protective anger to see her skin so pale and her face marred by the smear of dried blood from the wound on her forehead. They’d hurt her, and they would have done worse if they’d had time. I didn’t doubt that they would have woken her up to make her watch them do to me what they’d done to the poor bastard pinned to the wall behind her.
Rage filled me as I dragged myself toward her with purposeful movements.
She sat there as if frozen to the wall. Shock had rendered my tough warrior princess temporarily unable to move.
I grimaced as I edged my body inch by inch across the floor until I lay close enough to touch her. I was panting with the effort of that movement and the pain had caused blood tears to drip down my cheeks and onto the floor.
Tuesday still said nothing. I wasn’t positive she even knew where she was. I worked as quickly as I could to untie her hands. I gently massaged them, hoping to get the feeling back there. She flexed her fingers, one by one and woke up just a little. Her breathing was shallow but her heart was beating strong. She pulled her feet to her chest and untied the cord around her ankles herself. I leaned back on the floor and tried not to focus on the pain that rippled through my body.
I’d died once, but it hadn’t felt like this.
“Baldwin. Baldwin betrayed us,” she choked out. “And… someone else I know. I don’t know why, but this felt personal.” Her voice was calm, but there was a tremor underneath her words that I didn’t quite recognize.
“You’re not going to say anything about the stakes?” I asked.
It was supposed to be a joke, but Tuesday’s eyes filled with tears and I instantly regretted my flippant attempt at humor. Bad timing, pal.
She turned to me and reached down tentatively to brush the blood tears off my face. My entire body buzzed at her touch and I willed mysel
f to remain still, unwilling to share this moment with the pain of movement.
“Vinnie… I’m so—”
“I need you to pull the stakes out,” I whispered.
Her eyes met mine and this time the fear took over her face, but she nodded and her shaking hands moved to the first stake just below my collarbone. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply to prepare for the rush of pain that I knew would accompany the removal; but nothing happened.
Instead, the most intoxicating smell filled my nostrils. A drop of something hot and forbidden hit my lips and my fangs descended automatically. My tongue darted out to taste it.
Blood.
Slightly citrusy with just a hint of jasmine…
My eyes snapped open and my bloodlust ignited as Tuesday held her bleeding wrist to my lips.
“You drink,” she chided, “I’ll pull.”
Her eyes were bright as she pressed her wound toward my mouth. I hesitated, dragging my eyes away from the pulsing vein beneath the tender skin of her wrist to look into her eyes. They met mine with a clarity I envied, and she smiled briefly before she rolled her eyes and shoved her bleeding wrist against my lips again.
The first taste of her blood exploded on my tongue and I let out a little moan of pleasure. Gently, I pierced her skin with my fangs, careful not to gulp too quickly as her blood rushed into my mouth. Her breath came fast, but she didn't pull away.
She waited a moment before she pulled the first stake out and I was thankful for it. The pain was white-hot and coursed through me like wildfire. The shock of it forced me to bite down—hard.
“OUCH! Vinnie, what the hell?!” She thumped me on the head with the bloody stake she had just pulled from my chest. I released my hold on her wrist and withdrew my fangs carefully.
Her eyes blazed at me with the same rage I knew so well, before she grudgingly offered me her wrist again and prepared herself to pull the next stake. “Be. More. Careful.” she hissed.
We fell into a rhythm. I fed, she pulled. She wiggled the stake a little before she pulled it out, a signal to me to let go of her wrist, and soon we were both panting with the effort and a pile of eight stakes lay on the floor next to us.
