Vampire Soul Box Set (Vampire Romantic Comedy)

by Mac Flynn

  Brady grabbed the barrel of my uncle's gun and grinned at him. "Now that ain't a neighborly thing to do, Pat. I'm just gonna have to kill you, too."

  "Oh no you don't!" I yelled.

  I dove at Brady and tackled his legs. His knees buckled and he fell onto his knees. Uncle Seward aimed his gun at Brady's head and got off a couple more booming shots. The two bullets chewed up Brady's head until it resembled spaghetti, but Brady acted like it was just a flesh wound. He grabbed the collar of my shirt and flung me forward. I collided with Uncle Seward and he cushioned my blow as we both hit the wall.

  Brady stood and glared at us with the one eye that remained in his head. "You're gonna pay for that," he growled.

  Roland jumped onto his back and grabbed Brady's head in both hands. With a quick twist he divorced Brady's head from his body. The papers must have all been signed right because the moment the head was separated both parts crumbled to dust. In a few seconds there was nothing but a pile of ash on the floor. Even the blood on the carpet from the bullet wounds was dust.

  "That's one way to get the blood stains out," I quipped.

  "If you're all right enough to crack jokes then get off me," my uncle growled.

  "Oh, sorry." I got off him and helped him sit up. He still had the thirty-ought six in one hand. "How'd you know to bring your gun up here and shoot Brady?" I asked him.

  He scoffed. "Shoot Brady? Those bullets were supposed to be for that vampire you brought with you. Speaking of that, I've got some unfinished business with him." He made to stand, but I grabbed the barrel of his gun and shoved the end at the floor.

  "He just saved our lives," I reminded him.

  "By bringing that vampire here in the first place," he countered.

  "You're the one who invited Brady inside," I argued.

  "And I'm just about to uninvite your friend here," he quipped.

  "Patrick Seward, you'll do no such thing," my aunt spoke up from the doorway. She marched over to us and wrenched the gun from my uncle's hand. "I didn't tell you this young man's secret just so you could blow him away."

  "You knew about Roland, too?" I asked her.

  "He's hardly a young man, Ma," Uncle Seward countered.

  "That's neither here nor there, Pat," she insisted.

  I stood and held up my hands. "Wait a second. What's going on here?" I turned to my aunt. "How'd you know he was a vampire?" I looked to Roland and the ash pile in front of him. "And what the hell just happened here?"

  "Your aunt is a very thorough nurse," Roland replied.

  Aunt Ma smiled sweetly and shrugged. "I just checked his blood pressure and was a little concerned when I didn't feel any pulse."

  "I admitted what I was to her and she took the news quite well," he added.

  "So you'll knock me out with your eyes, but spill the beans to my aunt?" I growled.

  "Your family would have to learn about our arrangement at some point," he pointed out.

  "And as family I'm going to take care of this arrangement," Uncle Seward spoke up. He swung the barrel towards Roland, but Aunt Ma and me dove on top of him and wrestled with the gun. "Damn it, women, get off me!"

  "Not until you come to your senses!" Aunt Ma insisted.

  "I'm the only one with sense left in this family!" he retorted.

  "Quiet."

  Roland's low, tense voice broke through our witty banter and tussle. We paused and looked to him. He stared straight ahead at the doorway. His lips were pressed tightly together and his pale face was even paler than during his blood loss.

  "He comes."

  CHAPTER 8

  "Who comes?" I asked him.

  "The hunter. He's on the porch," Roland whispered. He struggled to his feet.

  "Shit," I cursed as I stood.

  "Misty," Aunt Ma scolded.

  "Hunter? What kind of hunter?" Uncle Seward questioned us as he yanked his gun from Aunt Ma's hands.

  "A vampire hunter," I replied as I rushed over to Roland. I helped him stand, but he leaned against me like "So how do we get him off our trail?"

  "I will fly away, and he will follow me," Roland explained.

  I snorted. "In your condition you'd fly as well as a chicken with clipped wings." I looked around the room and my eyes fell on the bed. The covers dragged on the ground on either side, and there was a thick wooden foot board that faced the door. "Under the bed."

  Roland assessed the hiding spot and shook his head. "I doubt I would fit."

  "It's either that, or one of the dresser drawers," I warned him. "Unless you want me to toss you out the window so we can prove me right."

  "But the hunter-"

  "I'll deal with him, you just pretend you're a piece of Tetris and get under there," I insisted. I squished him under the bed with his soul box and may have accidentally shoved his face into one of its pointy corners because I heard a distinct 'ouch' from under the bed. Then I turned to my aunt and uncle. "Let me do all the talking."

  A creaking board caught our attention. My uncle swung around and pointed his gun at the doorway while my aunt hurried over to where I stood between the foot of the bed and the pile of dust. The house was deathly quiet.

  Something flew through the doorway and spun like a boomerang into my uncle's face. He cried out and fired off a shot that made a nice hole in the top part of the doorway. A dark figure stepped into the doorway and pointed a small pistol at all of us. David Ginsleh, vampire hunter extraordinaire.

  "Put down the gun and kick it away. I have no qualms with any of you, but I will shoot you if you come between my prey and me," the man with the Scottish accent ordered my uncle. Uncle Seward frowned, but dropped his rifle and kicked it away. "I followed a vampire here. He killed a family, of one your neighbors. Tell me where he is."

  I held up my hands and stepped forward. "We don't want any trouble."

  "Where there's a vampire there's always trouble," he returned as his eyes fell on me. "You're the one who was with the demon earlier. Where is he?"

  I kicked the pile of dust in front of me. "He's fertilizer."

  Ginsleh frowned and cautiously stepped into the room. He knelt in front of the dust, all the while keeping one eye on us. He scooped some of the powder into his hands and let it run through his fingers. The man pressed his lips together and stood. His eyes flickered up to me and the grip on his gun tightened.

  "I can see you're telling the truth, but why were you with him?" he questioned me.

  I shrugged. "Hypnotism. He'd been doing it to me since I met him a few days ago." It wasn't a lie, just an omission.

  The hunter lifted his nose and sniffed the air. "Why do I still smell his blood?"

  I nodded at my uncle's dropped gun. "You probably still smell it from my uncle blowing his head off. It was a real mess in here until it all turned to dust."

  Ginsleh frowned, but holstered his gun. "I see. I'm sorry you had to see all that."

  I dropped my arms and shrugged. "It had to be done. You said yourself that he killed that family. He deserved what he got."

  The hunter gave a nod. "Aye, he did. I've been chasing that demon for most of my life, and I'm glad to see the hunt is done with him." He turned towards the door.

  "Wait!" my aunt spoke up. The man paused and looked over his shoulder. "Won't you stay for some cocoa? It's a cold night."

  Ginsleh actually smiled. "I thank you, but no. I must be off to find another demon to slay. Goodnight." He bowed his head to us and left.

  None of us breathed a sigh of relief until we heard a slight creak from the front door. I hurried to the window and watched a dark shadow flit into the night. The guy was just like the creatures he hunted, but without the dental work. I leaned against the windowsill and sighed.

  "Let's not do that again. Ever," I told my aunt and uncle.

  Uncle Seward picked up his gun and pointed the barrel at the bed, but his finger wasn't near the trigger. "That can be arranged if you'd let me deal with our last infestation."

  Aunt Ma smack
ed him on the arm. "What?" he barked at her.

  She scowled back at him. "That's quite enough, Pat. I didn't tell you about that nice young man just so you could shoot the first boyfriend Misty's brought in a coon's age."

  "He's not a boyfriend!" both my uncle and I yelled.

  "Suit yourselves, but I'll be downstairs making cocoa for anyone who wants some," Aunt Ma informed us. She held her hand out to my uncle. "But first, Pat, the gun."

  Uncle Seward grumbled, but dropped the gun into her wrinkled old hand. She smiled and pecked a kiss on his cheek. "That's my big, brave man. And for saving us from Brady I'll go and get the chocolate cake out of the cupboard." She skipped out of the room and down the hall.

  Uncle Seward ran a hand through his thinning hair and shook his head. "It beats all how that woman can be so calm all the time."

  "You've given her a lot of practice," I teased.

  "As touching as this scene is, I am in some need of help from under the bed," came Roland's muffled voice.

  "Oops."

  I helped drag him and his box from beneath the bed and sat him on top of it. Uncle Seward watched the work until Roland was comfortable on the covers. Then he marched over and stood in front of Roland with his arms crossed over his chest.

  "If it was up to me I'd shoot you where you stand," Uncle Seward told him.

  "He's sitting," I pointed out. One warning look was all I needed.

  Roland returned his gaze without wavering. "I can explain everything-" My uncle held up a hand.

  "I don't want your explanations or your long sad story about being a vampire. Misty is a big girl and knows what she's doing. You, I'm not so sure. What I want from you is your word that you'll do a better job of protecting my niece than you did tonight," Uncle Seward insisted.

  Roland closed his head and bowed his head. "I swear on my honor that I will do so."

  My uncle looked him over. "I suppose you grew up in a time when honor was worth more than it is now, so I'll take that as a promise." He leaned forward and whispered a few words into Roland's ear, then stood straight. "Understood?"

  Roland nodded. "Yes, sir."

  "Good. Now if you don't mind I've got a date with a chocolate cake," my uncle commented.

  He strode from the room. I watched him until he disappeared around the corner, and then I turned to Roland and jerked my head towards the hall. "What was that about?"

  "What was what about?" Roland returned.

  I walked over, picked up the soul box, and plopped myself down beside Roland. "What did my uncle say to you just now?"

  "Nothing of importance," Roland insisted. His eyes fell on the soul box, and he brushed his fingers over the lid. "It seems my secret is out."

  "You're not the only vampire who's stolen their soul from the devil, are you?" I asked him.

  "The only one I'm aware of," he told me.

  "So how's everyone learning about your fast one on Satan?" I wondered.

  He looked straight ahead and frowned. "There was another with me, a human. Perhaps he's the source of the leak."

  "Any way we can stop the pig from squealing?" I mused.

  "If my feat has reached into this far afield I don't think roasting one pig will stop the tide of curious vampires," he returned.

  "So what do we do?"

  Roland glanced out the window. "For now we rest. We can return to your apartment tomorrow and make plans from there."

  "Shouldn't we try to get back to my apartment? You said nobody could get inside unless they asked nicely," I reminded him.

  He looked me over and smiled. "It isn't the location so much as where you are that matters."

  I raised an eyebrow. "I don't follow."

  Roland slung his legs onto the bed and rested his head on the pillow. "I'll explain it later. For now I need to rest."

  I slid onto the floor and leaned my back against the bed. "Not a bad idea."

  I slept like the dead for a few hours, but an annoying light woke me up. I stood and looked out the window, and watched a sliver of sunlight peek over the horizon. Roland was still on the bed. I shook his shoulder. "Roland, the sun's coming," I warned him.

  He peeked open an eye. "I'm well aware of that."

  "Shouldn't you be shopping for a coffin in a graveyard?" I suggested.

  He closed his eye and shook his head. "The sun doesn't burn vampires. It merely forces us to sleep."

  "Sleep? Like the dead?" I asked him, but he didn't reply.

  The sunlight crept into the room like a thief and stole any reply he had for me. It slid over Roland's pale face and small smile. I set my hand on his shoulder and gave it a shake.

  "Roland? Roland, you asleep?" I whispered to him. No answer. "Roland, if you're dead can I have all your stuff?" Again there was nothing. I leaned over his face and stuck my tongue at him. Nada. I pinched his cheeks and felt for a pulse. Then I remembered he never had one. I sighed and patted him on the head. "How about you just stay here until tonight." I took his silence as agreement, and went downstairs.

  I found my aunt in the kitchen fixing up breakfast for my uncle who sat in his chair at the small table. Heaven or vampires, a farmer got up with the sun. An empty plate sat in front of him. He looked over the top of his paper and jerked head head towards the lot outside.

  "I hope your 'friend' has an idea for Brady's truck being here without him," he commented.

  "We could just tell the cops he suddenly fell to pieces and left," I suggested as I took a seat at the table.

  "Without his truck?" he pointed out.

  "We'll just call the police and tell them we don't know where he is, but his truck's here," I suggested.

  My uncle folded his paper onto the table and glared at me. "Are you really telling me to lie to an officer of the law?"

  I shrugged. "We won't know where Brady is after we put his ashes in the garbage and he's hauled away."

  "He'll be at the city dump," my uncle reminded me.

  "Now Pat, this is for the best," Aunt Ma scolded him as she came up with a sizzling pan of bacon. She slid some of the fatty bits of processed pig onto his plate. It glistened like honey. "Brady was rude enough to try to kill us, and he doesn't deserve the truth to be known about his death."

  "Besides, nobody would believe us, anyway," I chimed in.

  "Misty's right. We'd just be stirring up more trouble," Aunt Ma agreed. "Now when breakfast is over you call the sheriff and tell him Brady went upstairs to go to the bathroom and he never walked down, and that's the God-given truth."

  I snorted. "So how's he coming down?" I asked her.

  "In the vacuum. You can't sweep that carpet," she told me as she went back to fixing the rest of the meal.

  Uncle Seward frowned, but dug into his food. "All right, but I want you and your vampire out of here before the sheriff shows up."

  "That could be a problem. He's kind of-well, dead," I told them.

  "That's nice, dear, but your uncle's right," my aunt spoke up. "You two should leave before the sheriff comes."

  "How dead are we talking?" Uncle Seward asked me.

  "Dead weight, but he should wake up at sundown." I hoped.

  Uncle Seward helped me get the Sleeping Beauty into his old pickup, and he drove us to my car. We stuffed Roland into the trunk gangster-style. When the deed was done my uncle put a hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eyes.

  "Now you be careful around him. I'll bet the farm this isn't the only trouble you've had with him," Uncle Seward commented.

  "You'd keep the farm," I returned.

  "But you be careful, okay? Your aunt's buried enough of your family. It'd break her heart to see you in a grave," he insisted.

  I smiled and set my hand on top of his. "I'll be okay. I learned to survive from the best, remember?"

  He grinned. "I suppose you did. You keep care of yourself, and see us a little more often. Yer aunt-well, we both miss you."

  I turned and wrapped him in a big hug. "I will. I promise."

  H
e returned the hug and pulled us apart. "All right, enough with the mushy stuff. Talk to you soon."

  "Yeah, soon," I swore. My uncle left to call the sheriff, and I was left with my car and a good imitation of a corpse. I looked at the trunk with the box sitting on top of it and sighed. "Never a dull moment with you, is there?"

  Boy, how right I was.

  SPECK OF SPICE

  CHAPTER 1

  Fall weather always brought more than just the cold. It also brought a cold, namely the one that was trying to make me wish I could unscrew my nose and give it a good rinsing.

  I stood over the coffee pot with my eyes encrusted with gunk and my temperature on its way to a warmer place. Behind me in the diner was a group of ravenous truckers that more closely resembled wolverines than humans. I swore every plate I dished out came back with gnaw marks around the edges.

  For myself, all I wanted to do was curl up with one of Ralph's famous apple pies and pretend to die. I'd been nursing a head-cold for a weak and now I knew why I'd never gone to med school. The cold was winning all the battles and the tissues were piling up in the waste basket behind the counter.

  "You don't look so good," Candy commented. She stood near the swinging kitchen doors with her coat on and one foot already in her car.

  "I've got this going for me. If I die Ralph can just cook me up with the rest of the unknown meat and call it sassy food," I quipped.

  She wrinkled her nose. "Thanks for reminding me why I don't eat on the job. Anyway, I heard they finally dropped the investigation into your aunt and uncle."

  I sniffled. "Yeah. The police said they didn't have anything against them."

  "Maybe Brady'll show up soon and get his truck out of the impound," she suggested. That didn't seem likely since it'd been a few months since the welcome-home party at my aunt and uncle's farm. Besides, the only way he'd show up was if my aunt brought me the flower pot she stuffed his ashes into. "Anyway, good luck and see ya tomorrow."

  "Maybe," I half-heartedly agreed. Whole-hearted agreement took more energy than I could dish out right then.