by Gail Koger
“Just like you knew that Elvis impersonator was a master vamp?”
Bambi let out a shriek of outrage. “You bitch! Mom said he was cloaking his power, that’s why I didn’t sense him.”
“Strange. The minute I laid eyes on him I knew.”
“That’s because you’re an ugly freak and a virgin slut.”
“A what?”
“I’m going on my date and you can’t stop me,” Bambi hollered and zoomed off using her slayer speed.
“He’s using you as bait,” I shouted after her, wishing I could run as fast as a vampire, too.
“Don’t care,” she shouted back.
Now there was a surprise. The narcissistic bitch didn’t care about anyone but herself. Once McGregor put the whammy on blabber mouth, I was as good as dead.
That mine shaft was starting to look mighty good. I glanced down at my grubby outfit. If I was going clubbing, I needed some flashy duds and Roxy was just the person to hook me up.
Chapter Two
The Rio Verde was a decaying casino overshadowed by the towering mega hotels. I slipped through the stage door and headed for the dressing rooms. Roxy, a statuesque beauty, sashayed toward me with a warm smile on her face. I had rescued her from a rogue werewolf a year ago and we had been great friends ever since.
How she managed to walk gracefully with that towering feathered headdress, I’ll never know. Her glittering barely there costume revealed a perfect body. Jealous? You betcha. Cute and cuddly weren’t an asset in Vegas.
“I’ve got just the dress for you, Bunny.”
“Great, but I need one that’ll cover all my bruises.”
Roxy opened her dressing room door and removed her headdress. “Let me have a look.”
She frowned as I stripped down. “Geezus! You look like you went ten rounds with Mohammed Ali.”
“Since Bambi has been in her ‘girls just wanna have fun’ mode getting the crap kicked out me is a nightly occurrence.”
“Stop saving that spoiled brat. Let the damned vampires eat her.”
“Can’t, she’s family.”
With a snort of disgust, she sorted through a rack of dresses. “You are going to let me do your makeup, right?”
“Sure, I guess a little makeup couldn’t hurt.”
A short while later I stared in stunned disbelief at my image in the mirror. Wow! I looked hot, sexy. Who would have thought it? Roxy’s skillfully applied makeup emphasized my gray eyes and full lips. The long black wig hid my distinctive silver blonde hair and gave me an almost exotic air.
The shimmering black mini dress clung lovingly to my curves. Thankfully the long sleeves and black tights hid my horde of bruises. The heels on the knee-high velvet boots added a few inches to my height and were a perfect hiding place for my silver knives. I quickly added my special jewelry; dangly earrings that were actually UV grenades and a necklace loaded with detachable globes of vampire mace.
My dog collar kinda spoiled the effect but maybe everyone would think it was a Goth thing. Picking up the small silver purse; I tucked my cell phone, sunglasses, handy dandy skunk bomb and a small spray bottle of holy water inside.
Roxy ran a practiced eye over me and grinned. “You look damned good.”
“You’re a miracle worker.”
“Honey, you’re far prettier than Bambi. Why do you think she hates you so much?”
“She doesn’t hate me.”
“Then why is she trying to get you killed?”
“Stupidity?”
“Jealousy.”
“Jealousy, huh? I’ll admit I’m a better fighter but she’s got me beat in the boobs department.”
“Honey, in a couple of years those puppies will be hanging down around her knees.”
A laugh broke from me. “Good point. Wish me luck.”
Roxy gave me a fierce hug. “Be careful.”
“Careful is my middle name.”
* * * *
The Cathouse was decked out like a French bordello. The deep red walls were adorned with black and white antique photos. Human women in sheer lingerie danced on elevated boxes while scantly clad waitresses delivered drinks aptly named Triple Orgasm and Hard On.
I quickly planted my vampire mace around the room and scanned the crowded dance floor for Bambi or McGregor. There he was, towering over everyone, six-foot six of solid muscle but he moved with the fluid grace of a natural predator.
Omigod, he was wearing a kilt! Who would have thought a skirt on a guy could be so hot? The soft leather boots emphasized his massive thighs and muscles rippled under his white silk shirt. Did they have steroids back in the Dark Ages?
My gaze settled on his long silky black hair and my stomach clenched. Crap, warrior’s braids. McGregor only wore his braids when he was hunting me. Guess I was on the menu, tonight.
I eyed his harshly masculine face. Why did the arrogant prick have to be so damned good looking? Shit. After all he had done to me I was still attracted to him. Was that sick or what?
McGregor’s electric blue gaze settled on me for a brief moment and a shocking heat clenched my lower muscles. Wowzer! Talk about sexual magnetism. He had it in spades and any woman he set in his sights was a goner. Believe me, I knew. After eight hundred years of practice he made Don Juan look like a choir boy.
A hyena laugh shattered my lust filled thoughts. My cousin could raise the dead with that laugh. I watched her gyrate around Ian and winced.
Bambi’s version of dirty dancing consisted of rubbing her butt against McGregor’s crotch. The big, bad vampire looked more annoyed than turned on.
If you don’t want to fuck her sire, give her to me. I’d like to get me a taste of those sweet tits. Bury myself deep in her pussy and ride her till she screams.
Yuck. Listening in on men’s mind talk was worse than reading one of those erotic romance books.
You can have her, Ajax. Her incessant prattling is worse than old Martha’s.
McGregor forcibly turned her around and yanked her face up. His pale blue eyes glowed brightly and I groaned. He had just put the whammy on Bambi.
I danced closer.
“Did you bring a current photo of her?”
“Yes, Master.” My vacant-eyed cousin pulled a picture of me out of her purse and handed it to him.
Oh hell, no. He’d put the whammy on her last night and I had just walked into his trap.
“You’re sure she’s telepathic?”
“Yes, Master.”
Ian’s autocratic mental voice sounded in my head. Come to me Bunny or I’ll snap her scrawny neck.
Go ahead. You’d be doing me a favor.
I felt his surprise. He knew I meant it. So the rumors are true. No matter. You will not escape me again.
Care to place a bet on that?
Bambi spotted me and pointed. “There she is!”
Crap. My disguise was a bust. I ducked into the crowd and flinched as a tremendous power flared to life. Ian’s commanding voice rocketed through my skull. Sleep.
To my stunned horror everyone in the club collapsed. If I wasn’t immune to vampire mind control, my goose would definitely be cooked. I dropped to the floor and feigned unconsciousness. Neat trick but I’ve got one of my own.
Do you? McGregor prowled across the dance floor, examining every female.
It’s my own little invention, I call it vampire mace. I triggered the timer on my cell phone and with a loud pop a cloud of silver laden holy water quickly filled the air.
Ian hissed in agony and poof! He teleported to safety.
Grinning, I jumped to my feet and did a little victory jig. And the big, bad, scary vampire takes it in the shorts.
Gloat now but there’s no escape for you, he promised darkly.
We’ll see. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed 9-1-1.
The phone rang and rang and rang. Just when I thought I’d have to go to plan B the operator finally answered, “9-1-1, what is your emergency?” I screamed blue bloody murder.
/> “Ma’am? What’s going on?”
“Terrorists! Please you have to help us, I think they are all dead.” I sobbed hysterically.
Clever.
You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.
The dispatcher prodded, “Terrorists?”
“Yes, they released some kind of gas at the Cathouse. Help us. Please help us.”
“How many are injured?”
“All of them. They’re unconscious, please we need the paramedics.”
“Help is on the way. Can you tell me…”
I disconnected and walked over to Bambi who was snoring like a grizzly bear in heat. No wonder her dates never stayed the night.
Ian’s furious bellow reverberated off the surrounding buildings.
Guess he discovered his 1964 Ford Cobra Shelby smelled like it had been attacked by a rabid skunk.
His voice was low and lethal. You little bitch, it took me ten years to find that Shelby and restore it.
Boys and their toys, but don’t worry it’ll air out in another ten years or so.
McGregor’s snarl echoed in my head. You think it’s funny!?
You keep messing with me and I’ll keep messing with your cars. So, buzz off and leave me the hell alone.
Never challenge a Highland warrior, sweetling. You won’t like the consequences.
Let me guess. You’re gonna hunt me down and suck me dry?
No. I’m going to hunt you down and fuck you till you scream.
Gotta say I didn’t see that one coming. Touch me and your new nickname will be Limp Dick.
Oh, I’m going to do more than touch you sweetling. I’m going to take you in every way possible, again and again and again. You will be in my bed until your debt to me is paid.
Okey-dokey. That really doesn’t work for me. Would you consider a payment plan? Say fifty dollars a month?
No.
A hundred?
Your hot little pussy is mine until I say otherwise.
Hot little pussy? He must have me confused with Bambi. You know that old saying? A fate worse than death? I rather you just sucked me dry.
The bastard laughed. There will be a lot of sucking involved.
I let out a relieved breath as sirens sounded in the distance. The cavalry was coming.
No one can save you. Not the police. Not your slayer friends.
This fucking me till I scream thing ain’t gonna happen. The next time we meet, fang boy, I’m staking your ass.
His amused laughter rang in my head. I’d like to see you try, sweetling.
Bambi sat up and looked around groggily. “What happened?”
“You little traitor.” I punched her hard in the face.
Her head snapped back and she collapsed to the floor.
Temper. Temper.
I glared up at the security camera and flipped him the bird. Fuck you.
Soon, sweetling. Soon.
Growling with rage, I dropped to the floor and let the tears flow as paramedics in hazmat gear cautiously entered the club. “Help us.”
The Cathouse soon resembled a three ring circus. The bomb squad was right on the heels of the paramedics and the media wasn’t far behind. Police and news helicopters hovered overhead. With the dozens of cops and vampires swarming the area, getting out of here was going to be a bit tricky.
As soon as Bambi disappeared into the rear of an ambulance, I slipped into the shadows and carefully surveyed the area. One of McGregor’s goons was close but where? I tensed as a muscle-bound cop strode purposefully towards me. His massive chest strained the buttons on the stolen uniform shirt to the breaking point.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Buttons suddenly flew off the goon’s shirt like he was a Chippendale dancer. Put him in a G-string and he could pull in some serious money.
It only seemed right to tip him for his little strip tease. Sliding my special sunglasses on, I pulled off my right earring, hit the timer and tossed it at him. “Catch.”
The idiot caught it and kablooy! My UV grenade lit up the parking lot with a blinding flash of light.
The goon howled in agony and vanished.
Score one for my team.
That little stunt just cost you another year on your back.
That did it. The little princess was on her own, I was getting the hell out of Dodge. Sucking in a lungful of air, I let out an ear shattering scream and pointed at the alley. “He’s got a gun!”
A dozen officers swarmed down the alley, right towards McGregor. Cold horror roiled through me when, as one the officers stopped, turned and started for me. Holy hell! It was like a scene out of the Night of the Living Dead.
Ducking under the crime scene tape, I ran over to my Ducati and jumped on. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely fit the key into the ignition.
Fingers bit painfully into my shoulder and I was dragged off my bike. “The Master doesn’t want you to leave.”
Imagine that. I spun and kneed the zombie cop in the groin. He doubled over with a groan.
“Sorry, buddy.”
You will be.
I hopped back on my bike, turned the key and roared off.
I could easily have you arrested.
Where’s the fun in that? My senses screamed a warning. McGregor was close. Too close. I need backup and fast. I quickly turned into the parking lot of Jake’s, a local werewolf bar, and skidded to a stop by the front door.
Saving Roxy from that rogue werewolf had led to a few complications. You’d think killing the rogue would be a good thing but oh no, it pissed off the Alpha of Las Vegas. Seemed it was his job to enforce the rules. Not mine. It also made the head wolf aware of my unique psychic abilities. Abilities the Alpha wanted to use. The upside was I could count on them for help when things went to hell.
McGregor popped in behind me.
With a come and get me smirk, I entered the bar.
You think a few werewolves are going to stop me?
Enter at your own risk. “Hey Jake.”
Jake, the grizzled owner, stopped polishing the bar and let out a whistle. “You clean up nicely, darlin’.”
I preened a little. “Thanks.” That’s when I noticed all the men were staring at me, like they wanted to take me home and lick every inch of me. Roxy was definitely a miracle worker. They had never given me a second look before.
Jake pointed to the security monitor. “That vamp after you?”
“Unfortunately, Bambi decided to go clubbing at the Cathouse.”
A low growl sounded behind me. “You’re responsible for that media circus?”
Oh swell. The Alpha just had to be here. I turned and met Ben St. Croix’s glowing amber eyes. The big, bad werewolf was definitely pissed off. He was decked out in a tux that displayed his muscular form. I winced. God, I hoped I hadn’t ruined another one of his dates. I eased back a step. “You know Bambi, things got a bit out of hand and I had to create a little diversion, sir.”
Ben snorted. “A little diversion?”
“Okay, a really big diversion. Bambi’s dance partner was none other than Ian McGregor and he’s a bit irate about his cars.”
St. Croix’s handsome face tightened with anger. “You blew up another one of his cars!?”
“Blow up a 1964 Ford Cobra Shelby? Are you nuts? I skunked it.”
My Alpha leaned down and growled, “What the fuck were you thinking?”
