by R. E. Carr
Steve joined Blaine in douchey laughter. Trevor chimed in once, then returned to his phone. Blaine decided to continue.
“It’s simple really - the food has been in charge for far too long, am I right?” he asked. Blaine then looked pointedly at Georgia. “The old guard thinks we have to hide in the shadows, but when the new order rises, the food will know its place.”
“My mother has always been a progressive,” Steve added.
“Well she will be delighted to know that all our numbers are up – cash, blood, and recruits,” Blaine said as if rattling off the latest stock figures. “I’ve got a stable of breeders tucked away in Mount Juliette. When one goes down there’s always another, right? Right?”
“You don’t look old enough to have a stable,” Steve said with a sly grin.
“Well your mother gave them to me – a bunch of sad old sacks who wouldn’t get any action any other way. Don’t worry, man, we are making sure that they are only turning the right kind of people.”
“Oh, good,” Steve murmured.
“Though, really - Lady Jaeger has got to understand, if you totally want to control the criminal element in America, you need to include the blacks and Latinos, but we promise, no Jews. Trevor here just looks it because his mother was half-Armenian, but he’s kosher.”
“Wouldn’t you mean not kosher?” Georgia quipped, barely concealing the disgust on her face. Blaine smiled smugly.
“This one is a firecracker. Maybe we should recruit her . . . even if her tits are a little small, but that’s nothing some of my Hollywood friends couldn’t fix,” Blaine said, looking more toward Steve.
“Good help is hard to find,” Steve said. “Aren’t you worried that if you’re too aggressive, the animal population will rise and attract unneeded attention?”
“Didn’t you hear?” Trevor interjected. “The fucking sheriff pulled out of Nashville. It’s party time.”
“It’s true, that square she had keeping tabs on the town got pulled back to Texas. There has never been a better time to act. Oh, and the bitch who fancied herself queen of the airport strip, she just left as well. This is our city now, and with an honest-to-goodness Jaeger prince in town, well I’m thinking Vegas in the eighties, hmm?”
“That was a good time,” Steve acquiesced. “Tell me though, Blaine, how do you know that I’m not here on the sheriff’s behalf and not my mother’s? I have worked for her, you know.”
Blaine and Trevor both snorted. Blaine, however, was the one that spoke first. “Come on, you?” he said, still laughing. “Everyone knows you’re the cleanup crew for her. No offense man, but you’re not one of her muscle. You’re a talker, a face man.”
Trevor piped up, “And everyone knows you’re all buddy-buddy with the round table crew, so just admit it.”
“Admit what?” Steve asked coyly.
Now Trevor and Blaine exchanged knowing looks. “Come on, man,” Blaine said. “It was your servant who ended up king, right? Your mom is his advisor, and your best friend is totally in the court too. Who else would you be shacking up with?”
“Look, I have to know if the rumors are true,” Trevor blurted out. “Do both you and your sister bang the king, and if so, do you do it together?”
Blood rushed to Georgia’s face. She made sure to clench the other fist this time. Steve simply shrugged and laughed.
“My sister is not the sharing kind of gal,” he said. “The king and I really never had that sort of thing. When I knew his host, he was just food, a tool, and a servant.”
“Like this one?” Blaine asked.
“Yup, food, a tool, and a servant,” Steve replied, looking coldly at the furious Georgia. “Although I have taken a few extra liberties with this one. After all, practice makes perfect when you need to hunt. I think she likes it. You do like it, don’t you, Sweetheart?”
“I’ll show you exactly how much I like it later, Old Man.”
Blaine made a little “ooh” sound and waved his hands. “She is adorable when she’s testy! Sure I can’t have a go?” he asked.
“I don’t like to share either,” Steve said flatly. “Now you caught me, Blaine, my boy. I am here on family business. My mom wants me to check in on things, but I was supposed to do it on the down-low. However, I thought it was a dickish way to treat someone who has worked hard enough to earn entry into the House of Jaeger, so I thought, hey, I’d meet you face-to-face, and give you a chance to show off your operation on your own terms. I also take a perverse pleasure in not doing exactly what Lady Claudia orders, if you know what I mean?”
Blaine burst into a broad smile. “I had hoped that you’d be playing ball. I mean there are some crazy rumors—”
“You have to keep the rumor mill guessing,” Steve explained. “Look, you said it yourself, a new order is coming, and I want to meet the up-and-comers. After all, I’m not that old myself. I know that working with change will always play out better in the end than trying to fight it.”
Blaine raised a glass to Steve, who promptly clinked it. “I think this might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Steve said.
“Well, the night is young. How would you like to ditch the bloodbag and take the five-dollar tour?” Blaine asked.
“Oh no, I need her to take notes for the home office. I am not handling that crap,” Steve demurred. “Plus, I might get hungry later. Don’t worry, I’ve got her till death do us part.”
“Her death,” Trevor said with a leer.
Georgia caught a flicker out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head slightly and saw a figure in a black hoodie just standing in the middle of the dance floor. All of the humans pranced around him without a care in the world, never looking his way, but somehow not stepping into his little square by the bull. He pulled back his hood and cocked his head at Georgia, a shelf of brown hair flopping into his face.
“This drink went right through me,” Georgia said, slipping out of Steve’s grasp. “Let me just run around the corner before the tour.”
Georgia made it nearly to the ladies’ room before a hand grabbed her arm. She jumped, nearly collapsing in her heels. The shadowy stranger put a finger to her lips.
“You can see me?” Javier hissed.
“Another freaking invisible vampire, great,” Georgia muttered, leaning against the wall and pretending to be talking on her phone. “I assume you don’t want anyone to notice you, so I’ll just have a lovely call to no one.”
“You must have met one of the other ones,” Javier said softly, leaning against the wall next to her. “I must say, you are a pro.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Mi amor and Doctor Rojo are drinking coffee and still going over the notes so I thought I would do what I do best.”
“Wait, should either of them be drinking coffee?” Georgia asked, a sudden look of concern on her face.
“No, but a little probably won’t kill them. I got them both decaf. Now, perhaps we should worry a little bit less about them, and more about you and your marido.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dos vampiros versus a vampiro and a humano? That is not a fair fight. I thought I would tag along to make sure that if the field was not going to be level, at least it would be tilted in our favor.”
“I think I like you, Javier,” Georgia said, as she slid her phone back into her clutch. By the time she got back to her booth, the three guys were all standing. No one seemed to notice the hooded figure standing next to Georgia.
“Well then, shall we take my Porsche, or have you got your own wheels? It’s a Cayenne, so its seats five,” Blaine offered.
“Of course, you have a Porsche,” Georgia said with a smile. “It sounds lovely.”
Soon the lot of them piled into Blaine’s luxury SUV. Georgia all but crawled into Steve’s lap leaving more than enough space for Javier to slide in beside her. She did raise a brow as no one seemed to notice the fifth passenger. Steve seemed more shocked at her clinginess, while Trev
or just gave them a big thumbs-up.
“How many of you are there now?” Steve asked nonchalantly.
“We’re up to seven,” Blaine replied.
“The Magnificent Seven,” Trevor added. “The failures, we dump in the Nashville cemetery. They die off pretty fast in there for some reason.”
“Can’t be that many failures then,” Georgia added.
“It’s about ten to one,” Blaine said quickly. “The wasted old farts we have in the stable are pretty weak, but they get the job done.”
“You’ve had seventy animals in town and no major incidents?” Steve asked incredulously. “Damn, my mother really picked the right guy for this town.”
“Like I said, we only had weak old farts for recruitment. What did you expect?” Blaine dismissed. “But we’ve got drug dealers, hackers, and a pretty good team of venture capitalists. See, my theory is that muscle is good, but financial muscle is even better. I’ve got a ten-year plan for The District that will blow your socks off. With a little bit of pressure and a whole lot of back room deals, I think we’ll be pushing millions through this backwater town. Nashville is the future adult Disneyland. We’re going to make sure that Vegas’s days are numbered.”
“You do realize that the Jaeger family already controls Las Vegas, don’t you, Blaine?” Steve asked. “That whole “free city” thing is an illusion to pacify the Pendragons.”
Blaine paled a little before rattling off a never-ending stream of his achievements in real estate. Georgia dutifully noted a few key names on her phone. By the time they reached Blaine’s so-called greatest achievement, Georgia was willing to bury her face against Steve’s chest just to avoid showing her fury to the pompous ass behind the wheel.
“Welcome to Skylark Studios,” Trevor said as they pulled up to a rather unassuming building on the edge of Downtown with hideous eighties stucco. “The heart of our little operation.”
“Before we go in, mind if I get a snack?” Steve asked.
“Couldn’t you eat in the car?” Blaine sighed.
“I didn’t want to leave a mess on your upholstery,” Steve replied glibly. “Won’t be a minute.”
He led Georgia into the little alleyway between the studio and a Chinese restaurant. Once tucked safely behind the dumpster and a pile of empty fortune cookie boxes, Steve gave her an apologetic smile.
“Wow, that man may be the single least likable vampire I’ve ever met,” Georgia muttered. “Yes, that includes you.”
“Yeah, I agree, but there might be seven vampires in this joint and I don’t know if I want you going in there, Sweetheart,” Steve said. “Especially if they smell all that tasty blood still oozing out of your shoulder from time to time.”
“Well, we should have thought of that before we got here. Look, if I’m out here, our luck dictates that one of the goons will find me and abduct me. At least if I’m next to you, they can’t get the jump on us. I also have pepper spray in my purse, and I’m pretty sure that shit still stops you guys. Oh - and we have backup.”
“Backup?” Steve asked suspiciously.
“Sí,” Javier said as he slipped out of the shadows. “I was bored and thought you could use a hand.”
“Wait, you can do the Bam-Bam thing too?” Steve asked. “Seriously?”
“Niños,” Javier sighed. “I’ll be right behind you if you need me.”
“Could you . . . ?” Steve started to ask. He grabbed Georgia and pressed his fangs against her neck as they both heard footsteps at the alley entrance. Georgia tried her best to sell it by moaning and kicking up her leg as she pressed against Steve.
“Yes, I can see them,” she whispered in his ear. “Now can we get this over with?”
Steve pulled away, biting his own lip quickly so he had something to wipe away as Trevor peered in to check on them. “Much better,” Steve declared, as Georgia wobbled after him.
“Very considerate of you,” Trevor said, leading them in. “I’m the one who has to get the car detailed.”
Georgia made sure she stumbled just enough for Javier to sneak in while the other vamps waited on her. She gave a breathy, “Thank you,” as she adjusted her heel.
Blaine kept rattling on and on about margins and emerging markets. “You know who would enjoy this?” Georgia whispered as she heard the term “ROI”.
“It’s a tossup between Ren and Morgan,” Steve whispered back.
“Yup, pretty much.”
Blaine led them to a lounge with a tacky neon-edged bar and purple velour sofas. Georgia stared at the fish tank in the corner with the cast of Finding Nemo darting around resin cowboy boots. Hers was the only reflection staring back at her.
“This seems a little more vintage rock’n’roll than country, Blaine,” Steve noted as he saw a chair shaped like a high-heeled shoe.
Trevor was the one to chime in first this time, waving his hands and shaking his head. “Oh no,” he said in an extremely know-it-all tone, “Country is the new rock and roll. It’s technically the new pop, I suppose, but our studio is focusing on a more aggressive sound. Our test markets have been reacting fabulously to it.”
“Basically, we get a little blonde with cute tits and a nice ass in here, and the masses lap it up like gravy,” Blaine added. “Hell, they don’t even have to really sing with Auto-Tune. One of our newest members, Gary, used to write for a bunch of popstars in the nineties and he can churn out crap in days. Plus, he works for blood! It’s the best deal in town.”
“Wait, tell them the best part, Blaine!” Trevor said, bouncing in the shoe chair now.
Blaine pressed a little buzzer on the bar. A few moments later the side door opened and three glassy-eyed bombshells sauntered into the room. The first two were busty model types – a blonde and a brunette, each in a halter top and miniskirt. This pair of femme-bots flanked Blaine, their matching Botox lips hungry for his wrists. The third supermodel zombie wore a man bun and had perfect stubble. He knelt by Trevor and whimpered until he too was fed.
“Wannabes!” both Blaine and Trevor exclaimed.
“They’re—” Steve stammered.
“Vampires,” Blaine said shoving his pair of beauties away. They pouted but took dutiful places behind the bar, keeping their blank stares fixed on the yuppie. Captain Man-Bun soon followed, a bit of blood now staining his chin.
“Thralls, to be more precise,” Trevor added.
“Yeah - as it turns out, if you just feed the baby vampires your blood and nothing else,” Blaine explained, barely containing his excitement, “They dote on you and obey your every whim. Isn’t that right, darlings?”
“Yes, master,” the Botox twins replied. Man-Bun just gave Trevor a serious case of bedroom eyes.
“I mean, they are dumb as bricks, but they are amazing in the sack - and to do housework. Who needs a human to serve when you can have one of them?” Trevor asked.
“Or two,” Blaine added with a wink.
“You know that means that you’re technically married, right?” Steve asked.
“Hah, only if we drink from them!” Blaine countered. “Isn’t it brilliant? Tiffany here gives spectacular head, and Megan - well Megan isn’t quite as good, but we are working on it nightly, aren’t we, babe?”
“Yes, master,” the brunette replied.
“The best part is, they want to serve, and a few aspiring musicians aren’t really worth much for anything else. I mean they are really a dime a dozen,” Blaine said. “The nobles have been using child brides for years, but we’ve really refined it. I’m telling you man, you should try it on that piece of ass you have there. You won’t regret it.”
“Thralls, really?” Steve said, still not bothering to sit down. “You think this is progress? You are starving them. Vampires can’t live off other vampire blood alone. Those three will waste away and die in a matter of months, if they don’t turn into animals first.”
“Well, of course,” Blaine said. “This is the third batch. I have a redhead in the basement ready to go.
Variety is the spice of life, my man. The new one was a preacher’s daughter from Alabama, but already I can tell that she has a filthy side. Why does this bother you so much, man? They are all just food or whores in the end.”
“I just worry it might get messy,” Steve replied a little too quickly. “But you know, I think I would like to see the redhead. Is she really fresh?”
“Yeah, she’s still with the breeders,” Trevor blurted out. “Can I show them, boss?”
Blaine waved his hand. Georgia stuck close to Steve as they walked past a pair of state of the art recording booths. She let out a sigh of relief as there was a flicker out of the corner of her eye. Soon they passed through a “Staff Only” door and into the basement of the studio. Georgia couldn’t help but notice all the soundproofing panels lining the walls and ceiling. She gasped as she stepped into the main room.
The soundproofing dampened the moans and groans of the pathetic creatures strapped into hospital beds. IVs of blood dripped constantly into the bank of ghastly husks, and their sunken cheeks all but faded into the stained white sheets. One of the creatures hissed and lurched forward as it caught wind of Georgia’s scent, but its fangs had already fallen out of its receding gums.
“Old, weak vampires who have just started showing signs of the slow death,” Trevor explained. “They were all offered a chance to join the farm – to further the vampire cause and live out their final years with the best possible care. They don’t have papers to join the noble families in life, but have all been promised honorary titles upon their deaths.”
“Really? What family is going to honor a dead commoner?” Steve asked.
“No one, but they’re already dead, so who’s going to know?” Trevor said, bursting into maniacal laughter. “That’s the brilliance of it all.”
Georgia spied pumps and drainage lines strung between two of the husks. Trevor noticed her interest and explained, “That’s how we breed them. We got these hormone shots from our sponsor. Shoot two of them up, hook them together, and in a week or so, we get a baby vamp in the tank. Then it’s drain the next contender and make them chug the sludge.”
“No wonder it only works one out of ten times,” Steve said softly.
