by R. E. Carr
His smaller, but far-hairier companion, Bernard, rebutted, “No, you cannot argue that, especially considering that 1987 already had the Bill Paxton classic, Near Dark, which is far more accurate.”
“Accurate? You can’t cure vampirism with a transfusion!” Williams countered.
“I would counter that is far more likely than vampires flying—”
“Shut up!” Paige barked.
Bernard cocked his head. “Paige, why are you in the kitchen in a hospital gown?”
Both Dr. Antonova and Maria put a reassuring hand on Paige’s shuddering shoulders. This time when Paige looked up, her irises had turned amber and spread across her eyes. “Next person who asks that is getting a fist to the face,” she growled. “Now can we all find a nice, quiet place to sit down, and we will talk, as soon as I find some pants.”
“I’ve got some extra pants,” Williams offered weakly. A few moments later, Paige could hear a quick summary of her escape being described in a thick Russian accent, while she used William’s extra gym clothes as makeshift maternity wear. She did marvel at how his basketball shorts made a surprisingly comfy pair of capris. Wearing them backwards even allowed her to have her tail free. Paige gave Dr. Antonova time to finish the recap episode as she grabbed a sandwich and a pint of duck blood out of the fridge. The only other human member of the kitchen staff, Tina’s perpetually stoned boyfriend, Alistair “Man-Bun” McCoy, just gave her an easygoing wave as she literally sipped a cup of sanguine humors in front of him.
“Are you OK with all this?” Paige asked, her tail wagging behind her.
“Not really,” he said staring off into space. He gave her a rather pensive look and rubbed his scraggly goatee as he paused his work on the mise en place for making a batch of meatballs. “I mean, if we’re talking about eighties vampire movies, Fright Night is the best. Right?”
“Good talking with you, Al,” Paige grumbled as she slipped out of the kitchen. In the few days since she had last visited her mother’s eatery-in-the-making, more tables had filled the room, now all covered with red checkered tablecloths and little dispensers for red pepper and parmesan cheese. Several canisters had been formed into a pyramid, with a few action figures hiding around the outside of a tart pan that had been propped up and decorated with Egyptian hieroglyphs.
Dr. Antonova held court in the booth in the back corner while Tina and Williams listened. Bernard, however, seemed more focused on hiding a few white canisters under the table while Maria gave him a withering glance.
“I knew it, you can’t trust shapeshifting vampire queens,” Williams said. He noticed Paige staring at the tableau on the other table. “Oh, Bernard and I were reenacting our favorite Stargate SG-1 seasons.”
“You guys are so gonna die,” Paige said as she read the shelf-stable parmesan label.
“What is this crap?” Maria asked, picking up one of the cans. “Why is this discount, vomit-smelling abomination in my restaurant?”
“Mom, we have slightly more pressing matters—but yeah, who the hell got fake parm? That will get you killed in any self-respecting Italian household. Bernard?” Paige asked.
“You told us to get cheese. This is the cheese we grew up with,” the hairy werewolf said with a sniff. In the meantime, Dr. Antonova looked very confused. Bernard continued, “Irvine taught us—”
“Seriously, why are you worried about cheese? Paige’s life may be in real danger. The sheriff—” Williams tried to interject.
“Fuck that cunt!” Maria blurted out. “No one messes with my family in my place. Now those bloodsuckers have gone over the line, but they are not getting any more out of the DeMarco family. Also, I want you to get that generic horse puke out of my sight right this instant, Mr. Brown, or I am never feeding you again! This is the last straw.”
Bernard began gathering up the cheese cans with full werewolf speed. His eyes lit up a little as he saw one of the action figures topple brilliantly through the dead center of his tart-gate. Dr. Antonova stared in awe at Maria DeMarco. “Is she . . .?”
“Perfectly human,” Tina answered.
“And totally awesome,” Paige finished. “Look, can someone call in Nadia and tell me where the hell Lorcan is? We need to regroup. Also, is um, Steve . . .?”
“Still crazy and stuck looking like samurai Arthur?” Williams asked. “Yeah, the bastard ran off.”
“And then Nurseferatu joined him,” Bernard added bitterly.
“Gail did not, I’m sure he used his whammy voice and made her leave with him—” Williams protested. “She would never—”
“Dude, when are you gonna get that she is just not into you? You are at least, like, sixth on the list of eligible bachelors, and if she ever considers batting for the home team—” Bernard started.
“Guys!” Paige snapped. “Are we all completely separated and fucking about when there are vampires out to get us? Seriously? All I’ve learned today is that you guys thought I was getting my nails done and that no one can agree on which vampire movie is the best! Can we all take a moment and call in the cavalry? Dr. Antonova, how long before the sheriff sends a response?”
“I doubt it will be that long. At least my transmitter is out, so she will have to check multiple places to find us. Maybe we shouldn’t be someplace she would look—”
Paige shook her head. “Oh no, I want her to find me. We are going to have some serious words about this kidnapping bullshit. Mom, you said you had a gun. Do you know how to use it?”
Maria raised a brow. “I lived in Memphis and dated a Republican for five years. What do you think?”
“Barry was a Republican?” Paige raised a brow in return. “Anyway, just in case, you, Tina, and Man-Bun should at least get some place defensible.”
“Like hell we are without you, Paige,” Maria countered. “Now, you do seem a bit perkier than I remember, but I am not just leaving you with Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb-Bunny.”
“Hey, we are werewolves!” Williams protested. “Even if we are the B-squad.”
Tina quietly sat with her phone. After a flurry of furious thumbs, she looked up and declared, “Nadia and Toy are on their way with Kyle. The Black Brothers are on alert with the Nakanos and Kayleigh at the lab.”
“How many of you are there?” Dr. Antonova asked.
“Enough,” Paige said. She looked away and muttered, “I hope.”
The group settled into an uneasy routine. Bernard looked over and asked, “Should I at least have a few defenses set up?” Paige just gave him a dismissive wave.
“Whatever you can do, and, Williams, can you check all the doors? At least we should be locked up.” Paige ordered. “I mean, I doubt she will try anything as stupid as just attacking us directly, but I’ve given up guessing.”
Her mom emerged from the kitchen with a shaken-up Tina and Al. The trio each held a weapon of some sort—from kitchen knives to the pistol in Maria’s remarkably steady hands. “Come with us down to the basement, Paige, at least until Nadia is back.”
“I’m just being cautious, Mom.”
“That vampire wants you dead and it to look like an accident. There is no cautious here. I mean, what is to stop her from trying to get rid of us over and over again? I’ve had my share of enemies in my life, but usually I’m afraid of a bad review, not exsanguination. Damn it, where is your great-grandfather when we need him? He made a promise, and I thought that would mean something to a guy like him.”
Paige looked away. “I’m pretty sure Great-Grandpa Steve is gonna be wrapped up in his own problems for a long time. He’s as screwed up as I am.”
“And Jonathan, or Lorcan, or whoever the hell he is this week . . . he is going to get a piece of my mind too. He has no business running off with his ex to find himself, while you are here, pregnant, in danger, and alone. He is being a certified undead asshole if you ask me.”
Paige didn’t argue. Instead she watched the pale, drawn Dr. Antonova sitting alone at the table, her hands shaking as she held a ph
one. “All undead are assholes,” she muttered as she approached the sweating woman. “Hey, you don’t look so well.”
“You care?” she asked with a sniff. “It has been long time since I have done something truly brave and stupid, please bear with me. I did not expect this. The werewolves I knew, and those I heard about . . . they did not have family squabbles in restaurants or play with toys.”
“Not ferocious enough to protect you from the sheriff, huh?” Paige asked softly. “You’re, um, starting to feel like you backed the wrong team, maybe? Don’t worry, the others can be a little more stereotypically kickass. . . You look really pale.”
“I didn’t have any of sheriff’s blood this week. She was preoccupied.”
“How long can you last?”
“Long enough. I’m sure sheriff and her sons will come running soon enough, but they will be too late.”
“Too late . . . for what?” Paige asked as her stomach turned. As she grabbed her belly, both the doctor and her mother looked on in alarm.
“Paige, are you OK? Maria asked. Paige waved her away and went for her cup of blood. “Is that . . .?”
“Sorry—I know it’s gross, but I guess it’s what every growing vampire needs,” she said, swooning a little with each sip.
“You need to be careful, volchitsa. One more change and you will pop. Werewolf birth is violent, very violent.”
Maria turned slightly green. “You mean you’ll change when you go into labor? How are we going to even handle that?”
“Mom, Kyle is a werewolf, and the doc here is an expert. I’m also in a pretty good headspace, surprisingly, so we don’t have to worry about that just yet. Wow, I’m a little dizzy. I’m probably going to need another transfusion soon, but we will deal with that when the others are back.”
She eased into a chair, rubbing her belly. “Don’t you get any ideas, kid. One crisis at a time.”
“How much longer till Nadia is here?” Maria asked. Tina shrugged.
“Mom, both Nadia and the bad guys have to deal with traffic. Let’s just all hunker down and relax. I don’t want to have to worry about you guys, so please just go to the basement?”
“Not without you, kiddo.”
“I don’t want to have this argument. I feel stronger than I have in weeks, and I’m pregnant, not disabled. Please, mom. I can’t worry about the person I love the most, and my baby, and the vampires all at the same time. I’ve got my limits.”
Maria let out a heavy sigh, but she hugged Paige before starting for the stairs. “You coming, New Person?”
“At very least, I am doctor, and I have few tricks up my sleeve yet,” Antonova said as she pulled some injector pens out of her pocket. “And let’s face it, sheriff will probably want me as well as you. I don’t want her to have to hunt any more than she must. It’s . . . safer for others, no?”
“You’re not half bad,” Maria said, opening the basement door. Paige wandered over and gave her mom a reassuring hug. “We’re going to have to start charging a cover if you are going to keep bringing people here. I want to hear everything, and I mean everything, as soon as we have a full house.”
Paige nodded. Maria kissed her on the head and then the trio of chefs slipped into the lower level. Williams gave a thumbs-up as he emerged from the kitchen while Bernard continued to putter away in the corner, muttering furtively to himself as he stripped some wires and then yanked something off the wall.
“That one is strange,” Dr. Antonova noted.
“Tell me about it,” Paige said between nervous sips. “I don’t really know him. He’s actually a friend of . . . someone I used to be close to.”
Dr. Antonova sweated a little more. William took the hint and brought her some water and a towel from the kitchen. “Got any vodka?” she asked with a laugh. “You know, I saw Red earlier, but what happened to good-looking guy who looked like Dirty Harry?”
“He’s gone,” Paige said flatly. She watched wistfully as Williams returned with vodka and glasses. Both he and the doctor pounded a shot in two seconds flat.
“So, you are that werewolf doctor? Did you, like, defect?” Williams asked. “It’s been a very eighties kinda day, with all the talk about Lost Boys and this Cold War thing.”
“Do people ever really defect from bloodsuckers?” Bernard asked snidely, not even looking up from whatever he was constructing. He ripped off a strip of duct tape and let it dangle from his magnificent beard. “Oh, and Dirty Harry’s name was Morgan—and we’re gonna get him back from the bloodsuckers who took him, damn it.”
Everyone sat in awkward silence for a few interminable moments. Another round of vodka disappeared. Dr. Antonova leaned over and said, “Actually, there has been case of transfusion working.”
“Excuse me?”
“The conversation from earlier . . . about reversing vampirism. There was case of child who was born Undying. They gave him series of transfusions that allowed them to remove vampire—not exactly same but within realm of possibility. Of course, all doctors who did it were killed for committing vampircide, but that means technically—”
“That Near Dark is more accurate than The Lost Boys!” Bernard declared gleefully. He looked down at Paige’s belly. “Or that you don’t have to raise a baby bloodsucker, if you don’t want to?”
“Is everything you said true, about going insane and dying before forty?” Paige asked softly.
Dr. Antonova looked away. The normally wacky and flippant Bernard looked pensive. “Hey, Irvine nearly made it to fifty-five . . . of course, he was completely psycho and tried to kill us all in the end, so that might not be the best example. Hey, we know we have a short road, but it’s an awesome one, right?”
“Wait, I’m going to go mad and die young?” Williams asked, wide-eyed. “No one mentioned that before.”
“If you don’t change you last longer, but don’t worry, the bloodsuckers and their people will kill you long before you go all crazy, and as a bonus, you get abs like these!” Bernard punctuated his point by lifting his shirt to show an impressive but thoroughly fuzzy stomach. “You can even drink all the beer you want and still look like this.”
“Truly . . . scientific marvel,” Antonova said with a sigh. She flipped out her phone again. Paige saw a timer amid the flurry of notifications.
“Hey, can the sheriff track you through your phone?” Paige asked, snatching the little black brick and looking around at the others.
“This isn’t some television show, volchitsa. Bad guys can’t just magically track your phone from anywhere.”
“Yeah, but any idiot can have an app installed to give their location to others,” Williams countered. Paige looked at the screen, a countdown was under a minute.
“Doc, is there about to be a problem? Please don’t tell me that you were luring the sheriff here for a little accident,” Paige begged, even as she cracked her knuckles. Dr. Antonova gave Paige a sad smile.
“I left sheriff, like I said. There is no way she would ever trust me again, volchitsa.”
“Why do I sense a but coming?” Paige turned as she heard tires squeal in the parking lot. Williams and Bernard both popped their claws as headlights streamed through the window.
“But sheriff has forgotten about those who have helped her for years. We’ve learned that no matter how loyally we serve her, she only cares about her sons . . . and her grandson, I suppose. I had hoped sedatives would just keep you down, until I could get my leverage, but somehow, you are remarkably strong, little one. You are just . . . too strong, even to breed.”
Dr. Antonova managed to pop one syringe into Paige’s arm, but Paige was still able to backhand her. The front door shattered with a terrible crash and bang. The distinctive clink and pump of a shotgun reloading soon followed.
“Oh crap, not this asshole again,” Paige moaned as a striking figure in a black trench coat and sunglasses strode into the restaurant, brandishing a gold-plated firearm in his hands and a katana on his hip.
“
Did you miss me, bitch?” Kevin asked as he leveled the weapon squarely at Paige.
16
“I’m missing something here,” Gail said. The sheriff pulled the young vampire away from the harried Lorcan, as they arrived back at her secret lair. “How can everyone be so damn calm when Paige—”
“If there is one thing that a few millennia of experience will teach you, it’s patience, child,” the sheriff replied. “Double-crosses and betrayals of all kinds are the norm. You know they are coming, and if you plan well enough, you simply don’t care when they happen. You just . . . handle it. Antonova’s betrayal, however, does seem a trifle sudden and strange. I fear an outside influence may be at work.”
“And you’re telling me . . . why?” Gail asked with a raised brow.
“Perspective,” the sheriff replied mysteriously. Before Gail could respond, the sheriff waved her away, so she could answer her phone. In the meantime, Lorcan paced around the Parthenon main area—muttering to himself and shaking his head. Gail approached him cautiously. A mix of languages and accents reverberated between the columns.
Gail leaned around one of the pillars. Lorcan had unbuttoned his first two buttons, and his tie was nowhere to be found. He flashed a painfully familiar smile her way. “Hey, you,” he said in a thick Texas drawl. “Read anything good lately?”
“Jonathan?”
“‘Fraid so, babe,” he said as he kept tugging at his sleeves and adjusting the waistband on his pants. “Any idea why I woke up in this monkey suit?”
“Oh no,” Gail said with a gasp. “You didn’t really just black out and become Jonathan again. Don’t you have any clue what is happening?”
Jonathan shuffled a little. “Tell me, do you remember your dreams when you wake up? I have these flashes, and I remember two people arguing really loudly, like it was in my skull. Then—surprise—I’m in some ancient temple in a suit, with a raging headache and a lot of questions.”
“It’s not an ancient temple. You’re still in Nashville. This is their Parthenon.”
