Pick Your Poison

by Jeanette Lynn

  “What?” Divit muttered, pausing in his wild pacing as I interrupted his noisy, curse filled tirade.

  “I said sing. I’m not taking it literally. There’s no way I’m letting you kiss me, so forget it. Sorry, babe, you’re just not my type. The way I figure it, no smoochin’ gonna happen, so it must be something else.”

  “And my singing would... what?” Condescension, thy name is Divit. Equal parts disbelief and assholery dripped from his voice.

  Eyes narrowing to angry little slits as my lips pursed, I wanted to slap his cold-hearted ass really, really hard.

  “Gee, I dunno...” sugary sweetness bled from my lips, “maybe find ya a way outta here, ahyuck.” Glaring at his outline through the frosted glass, making out his folded arms and stiff posture, I made a face and stuck my tongue out.

  Clapping my hands and getting a little snap happy when he just stood there like that, glowering at my blurry figure as if he could see me, I thought it only fitting when I started barking orders.

  “Come on now, baby, where’s my half-naked groom to be in painted on pants? I assure you, I want out of here much more than you do. I say start caterwauling bad karaoke and let’s see what happens. Start with Elvis, glitter-dick, and make it snappy. What have you gotta lose, huh?”

  There was a strangled, choking noise from the other side of the shower, the dark form in white looming on the other side moving closer. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Oh, you heard the stupid human correctly, corpse-groom.” To make myself perfectly clear, I spoke very slowly, annunciating at the speed of snail. “I said start harmonizing, my knight in white, glittering spandex. Sing to Mama and see what happens, hmm? You’re the one who finds me so repugnant, and there’s no way in hell or Kama Sutra bathrooms I’m gonna kiss them dead, cold lips now. So, unless you’re into sucking ass majorly, living dead boy, I suggest you pull your inner Sinatra outta your ass and start singin’ that shriveled up, blackened heart of yours out, or we’re going to be here a while.”

  Divit took a long time in answering. “And why is that, sweetheart?” Voice low and deep, I couldn’t tell if he was angry, amused, or a bit of both. Hopefully the latter.

  “Because I’m really not going to kiss you.” At that I paused and shrugged, uncaring if he could see it or not. “I got nothing else, and honestly? I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.”

  Divit cleared his throat, a small, shocked chuckle rattling his chest. “I see.” Clearing his throat a few more times, I could make out him rolling his shoulders as he lifted his chin. “Singing it is, then.”

  Sitting back, I prepared for the worst and hoped for the best. “Croon to me lover,” I cooed, tapping the drain with my sneakers to an imaginary beat. “Make my ears bleed pretty.”

  That startled a laugh out of the dead man, and then it began.

  Twenty minutes and thankfully no show tunes later...

  “Please stop,” I whined, not caring at this point how pathetic that sounded.

  Divit paused, mid-song. “But I know all the words to this one.”

  “If you stop I’ll kiss you, swear to god. I will kiss you, I’ll initiate it, I’ll mean it. Hell, I’ll even let you slip me the tongue, and I won’t say a god damned word. No cold lip jokes, no mocking your dead guy breath—nothing. Just, please, for the love of all that is holy, stop.”

  Divit—thank pepperoni stuffed crust pizza—stopped. “Now you’re just being dramatic.” The shower door opened and the devil himself stepped in. Still wearing that horrible outfit, he advanced, glaring down at me.

  “I’m being nice,” I muttered, trying not to stare at his glittery abs. It was kind of stuffy in here and we were both starting to sweat, leaving bits of the faint sparkle in his pants and vest behind on his skin. His skin was tainted a light but still visible funky red color as he perspired, compliments of his diet, and I couldn’t help but stare.

  Vampires don’t sweat. They aren’t supposed to, at least, from my understanding. Not that they’re supposed to glitter either, but...

  Now my skin, well, my deodorant may have failed me by now and I very well could be on my way to smelling like a musty, old gym sock.

  Awwww. What a pair we make.

  Divit chuffed. “There’s nothing wrong with my singing.”

  Butthurt, party of one.

  Oh... I begged to differ. “You sounded like someone was murdering a sheep,” and that was a compliment, “and, whoa, back up there, rhinestone cowboy, them sparklers could poke an eye out.”

  Divit’s mouth drew down as his eyes narrowed. “No, I don’t, and it’s not like I have anything else to change into.”

  “Did, and, yeah? Go naked. Won’t hear me complainin’.” He’s an ass, but he wasn’t all that bad on the eyes.

  Skinny compared to the men I usually go for, he wasn’t my type exactly. I like my men thicker, more muscled, warmer, you know, with a pulse, like, uh, Duncan, for example, but I wouldn’t say I’d kick him outta my bed for eatin’ crackers.

  Divit is handsome in an unattainable way, and maybe that’s part of the attraction. He’s well out of my reach, I’m well aware of the fact, and I’m okay with this. Doesn’t mean I can’t look, though.

  Divit stared down at me, startled for all of about two seconds before a pensive look took over his glowering mug.

  “You know, you’re much different when you’re singled out, as opposed to a forced member of the group. I found you much more... suitable to deal with earlier.”

  Of course he did. Asshole.

  “Any particular reason?” he asked broodingly.

  Other than the fact that I’ve realized something glaringly obvious he hasn’t? Not a damned thing.

  Arching a dark brow haughtily, I shot back, “Could say the same for you, walking meat-sicle. Who knows, maybe it has to do with being bamboozled into a kissing game with a bitter blood sucker who likes to take cheap potshots at those he feels are beneath him. And why? For being weak, little humans?”

  Before he could have his turn, I went ahead and spilled the beans.

  “And while we’re on the subject of dead things and such, just in case you haven’t noticed, you’re looking a little less night of the living dead and a little more, uh, light and the living in this bathroom, bud.” Gesturing meaningfully at the stretched out white fabric straining against his crotch with an overdone, wide-eyed stare, I waggled my brows suggestively.

  Divit grunted, an uncomfortable look stealing across his dark features, muttering as he adjusted himself.

  His cock eye level with my face, I leaned back as he played a short game of jerk and tug with his dick, angrily trying to situate that beast.

  Noting his audience, he growled something unflattering about my person under his breath and rolled his eyes.

  “Hardly a sausage tramp, and how would you know? Into that sort of thing? You like watching others get their jollies off while you feed? That what you do for fun? A little poke and prick since your prolonged dead yet not so deadness broke your schmeckle?”

  “Vampires can get erections,” Divit talked over me as if I’d never spoken, “and this is only half of one. You’ve been misinformed, human. I simply have to piss.”

  That made no sense. He’s dead, sort of. Vampires don’t pee... do they? No, it’s the drinks, the poison game, it has to be... What goes in must come out, at some point, right? Damn it, I didn’t know... And there was so much mystical, otherworldly magickal crap involved—which doesn’t usually make sense and I’m beginning to wonder if it’s even supposed to—it made my head spin.

  I had to call bull on the piss thing, though. “But I thought-” Had Mary been messing with me? I’d thought his sweating was funny because I didn’t even know a vampire could sweat, thinking it a fitting side effect for the snobby vamp to the swill we’d just downed. Had I been so misinformed about so many things?

  Uncertainty filled me and I started to feel kind of stupid.

  Divit waved me off with a flick of his wrist
and a dark look. “Maybe you should quit watching silly shows about my kind and indulging yourself with every misinterpreting book deemed fit to shove at you, hmm? Not all you hear secondhand is true, and you shouldn’t be gullible enough to allow yourself to be led to believe everything you’re spoon fed, I’d hope.” His words were so dry they sucked all the moisture from the room, bathroom humidity be damned.

  Staring at his prized zucchini squashed all up in there, straining against the confines of that paper thin, elastic material he calls pants to get out, my only thought was, Half erection?

  Color spreading across my cheeks, I flushed, quickly looking away.

  Refusing to look back, an awkward silence followed.

  “Mary said vampires can’t get boners,” I blurted in a rush. “She said that’s why she doesn’t bother trying to feed off of them. They don’t have souls anyway either, so she says there’s no point. And then, back at the house, Stefan made that comment about-”

  “Did she now?” Divit’s face hardened, his jaw clenching as he barked out the words.

  Blinking, I rushed to explain, Stefan’s jab about Divit and impotency back at the house forgotten, “I overheard her talking to Callie and Spira about it at a gathering once.”

  Divit snorted, shaking his head, and stepped back. “You mean you eavesdropped.”

  “It wasn’t-”

  Lifting his arms over his head to grip the rim of the shower door’s frame, showing off his impressive physique as he flexed, his expression cooled as it turned dismissive. “You thought you heard, and you heard wrong.”

  Okay, so he’s not exactly skinny-skinny, as I’d first thought, more like lean muscle everywhere on a wiry frame. His nasty disposition and my opinion of it, however, hadn’t changed a bit—the blood sucking butt monkey.

  “See, no. It’s not-”

  “No, I don’t think it is. Just stop there.”

  “But I-” I started to explain but stopped myself. What’s the point? No matter what I say he won’t believe me anyway. “Whatever.” Lips thinning, I stopped, thought better of it, and shook my finger at him. “No, you’re right.”

  He blinked, his dark eyebrows shooting up in surprise before furrowing. “I am?” Eyelids closing and lifting again in tandem with his lips, he straightened his surprised expression out smoothly and cleared his throat. “I mean, I am.”

  “Hmm...” My lips pursed as I stood to make my way past him, my index finger reaching up to tap my puckered kisser as I eyed him, humming, and slipped past. “Oh, yeah, forget sheep murdering, your singing was waaayy worse. Dead-guy-tone-deaf worse.”

  Divit’s eyes flashed and he growled, the sound echoing across the tiled walls, bouncing around the shower stall as his lips pulled back. “I’d like to see you do better, Miss High and Mighty.”

  Closing the door on his pinched, angry face, it slammed shut behind me, clicking shut with a satisfying, though albeit quiet, snick.

  Making my way to the sink to rummage through the cupboards beneath, I grinned. “Sorry, bub, no can do. Can’t sing a lick, remember?” After a moment my grin spread wider. “But just for you, you know, if you want...”

  Maybe I was putting too much faith in Callie’s potion/enchantment protecting me from an angry vamp’s wrath, or maybe the idea of riling the curmudgeonly grump with a get out of jail free card up my sleeve was too good to pass up, either way, with his vamp stuff on the fritz, until we got out of this mess, we were on even footing.

  As I launched into my own rendition of “All the single ladies”, I didn’t feel an ounce of remorse.

  Pay back’s a bitch, baby.

  All pucked up

  I had to give him credit, vampires had nerves of steel, and a butt load of patience.

  “Are you done yet?”

  “Dunno. Waddaya think of this one? Dead-y like?” Smacking my lips in an exaggerated fashion as I gazed at myself in the mirror, I frowned, blotting the glittery, raspberry-kiwi-lime lipslick I’d commandeered from the lifetime supply of flavored lip gloss I found crammed in the cupboard under the sink.

  There were many other goodies under there, things I was going to have to discuss with Callie in great length. That is, if I didn’t beat her with one of the doubly thick ten inch dildos I’d found packed under there, smooshed in between a couple butt plugs of varying sizes and two industrial sized bottles of lube.

  That woman was going to die.

  Divit sniffed and grimaced. “Smells like shit, but at least you aren’t singing. I think you made my ear bleed.” Grunting, he rubbed at his earlobe. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

  “Lemme guess, ‘cause you’re a big, bad vampire man and you’re much tougher than that? Eardrums of steel? Am I right?” Snorting, I rolled my eyes. “According to you, your ears can’t bleed,” smirking, I winked, because we both know that’s crap and blood suckers, while dramatic and pissy, very well bleed, “or so you say, but you can get it up, pee, and sweat. I’m told you can’t cry, which I have yet to see but I’m up for the challenge.”

  Divit made a strange hissing sound but I ignored it. I’m funny like that. Or stupid. Maybe mostly stupid.

  “And yet your mouth looks moist, which makes me think your throat is moist, which is kind of stupid because, what? No tears? But you can work a wet mouth? Is it the blood sucking thing? It has to do with that, doesn’t it? You need a wet mouth, don’t you?” God, he’s going to kill me, and I just don’t know when to stop.

  I could see Divit’s throat working as the corner of his eye ticked.

  “Oh, my, my, aren’t you just a mixed bag. Tell me, my boner poppin’ bag of dead, what happens when you partake of human food? You can’t digest it, can you? I’m sure there are situations, like tonight, that call for such things at some point. So... where does it all...” my fingers wiggled, “go?”

  Rubbing his nose vigorously, he offered me a fake, obnoxious smile I was growing to resent as he pretended as if I hadn’t just spoken—one that really meant you-know-I’m-going-to-kill-you-when-we-get-out-of-here, right?—and spoke calmly. “Did I say shit? I meant lovely.”

  Sending me a dirty look promising to send any woman into fits—not usually laughter—I smiled winningly in the face of it.

  “Thought you’d think so, lover boy.” Batting my lashes demurely, the ends covered in a thick coating of black mascara, I’d been having a field day with the big plastic case of hooker makeup on top of the back of the sex commode.

  This place was just filled with shit!

  “Just call me Cherry Pie and give me twenty five, lurver.”

  Making Hoover noises at my temporary beau, Divit jerked, puffing up like a ruffled hen. I’d say it was shock that finally got his goat, but who knows. Maybe it was that weird thing I was doing with my tongue along my lips.

  Eyes widening until I could make out the whites all around, eyebrows kissing his hairline, he was giving me an awfully funny look right now.

  Tossing the non-plussed man a wink to match my bawdy laugh, he finally cracked.

  Shoulders slumping, he scrubbed a hand down his face and groaned. “You’re horrible, and I hate you. I don’t know what I ever thought was pitiful about you, but I relent. You win. You’re a horrible creature, humans are vile, disgusting beings who truly have no soul. Norma, you terrify me.” Peeking up between his fingers, eyes narrowed, lips pursed, he hissed. “Happy now?”

  Trying the bright red lipstick on for size, I made fishy lips. “Pleased as punch, stiffit.”

  “Stop calling me that,” he snapped, dropping his hands to stand and lean over me.

  Ah... intimidation now.

  “What are you going to do, stiffy, gum me to death?” It was painfully obvious the man couldn’t hurt me.

  Oh, I know he wanted to at this point, but he physically couldn’t. That drinky-poo wouldn’t let him.

  For all intents and purposes, the poor undead was dead and humanish at the same time.

  Poor little lost blood sucker. How hard that must be
for him. Not.

  I would feel sorry but he’d spent the better part of an hour trying to bully me into doing what he wants, then trying to apologize, followed by sweet talking.

  I work in the food service industry, dealing with yahoos day in and day out, as well as a snarling rage demon. Do I look like I have idiot tattooed on my forehead? Puh-lease. Dude has gotta be kidding me.

  We’ve been in forced togetherness for several hours now, and nothing we’ve tried, in between name calling, arguing, gentle bickering, and all his coaxing crap, thus far, has worked. It seemed, as we’d both known deep down all along, a certain bitchy witchy had good and duped us into playing kissy face.

  Having had the pleasure of overhearing Divit extol the merits of avoiding us regular folk all together in favor of more delectable, otherworldly pursuits to quench the thirst and yadda, yadda—I’m bored already—I’d been both insulted and relieved.

  He thinks normals are diluted, deluded, and stupid. Cool, we don’t need ya. Leave us sheeples to our sheepin’ and bugger off.

  Who’s slummin’ with the sheeple now, I thought, dusting on way too much rouge.

  “Aaaaaand done. Well?” Stepping back, I gave a little twirl. With overdone blue eye shadowed eyes, bright red shimmery lips, and goop all over my lashes, I looked like a whorish marionette. Perfect.

  “Beautiful,” he muttered, opening his bare arms wide. “Now hurry the bloody hell up already.”

  Dancing over, I pranced right up, flapping his jacket open and tweaking his nipples hard enough to make him wince.

  Leaning in close, only a few spare inches separating us, I smiled up at him as nauseatingly as possible as I tickled his man-boobs. “Only if you ask me nicely.”

  “If I have to ask you again, thin blood be damned, I’m drinking you dry the second that bitch’s curse lifts and my fangs drop,” he swore. “This shit is... they’ve completely receded. This is bullshit.”

  A small shudder wracked my sturdy frame as my smile fell, a bit of that safety bubble I’d felt well protected within deflating. Was that peek I’d seen of his fangs in Callie’s living room them fully dropped, or was that a... partial drop? They’d looked pretty good sized to me then. Swallowing convulsively, I gulped. I was afraid to find out, hoping I never do.