by Jada Turner
“Come on, beautiful, can you really afford to play hard to get?” the first man asked in what was definitely a brazenly insulting way.
“Gus, leave her alone. She’s gotta serve the other customers,” a third man with a nice looking face and cool demeanour told the first man whose lap I was inadvertently sitting in.
“Relax, Pete. Besides, I can think of other ways the slut can make her quota for the night,” the man called Gus said in a leering way. Oh no, you didn’t.
“Oh snap, did he just call that waitress a slut? He did, right?” a new voice interjected
“I think he did,” another voice agreed solemnly.
I managed to extricate myself from Gus’ lap and stared in astonishment at the newcomers. They definitely weren’t regulars at the bar; in fact, they looked nothing like the men that I usually interacted with, either professionally or personally.
The man who had spoken first was tall with broad shoulders and an impressive build all round. His skin was pale to the point of almost being translucent and he was wearing what looked like a dark blue V-neck muscle T-shirt and a black leather jacket on top. He was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and boots. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at his light grey eyes and mop of unruly, curly brown hair that I just wanted to run my fingers through in the moment.
That was the case until my eyes landed on his companion. He was shorter, but he was just as good looking as his friend if not more so. He was pale too, but with traces of formerly tanned skin of the Latino persuasion. I could see this in his face with his warm chocolate brown eyes, a long, angular nose and a delicately chiseled jawline. His hair was short, black and gelled upwards, which somehow reminded me of a shark’s fin. Unlike his taller friend, he was wearing a maroon hoodie, black and white striped tracksuit pants and sneakers.
They seemed pretty harmless just standing there in the middle of my uncle’s bar. And yet…I got this strange vibe from both of them. Like…they were a hell of a lot more dangerous than they looked. So much so that the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at full attention as I kept staring at them.
“Who the fuck are the two of you? The Hardy Boys?” the guy named Gus demanded, followed by derisive laughter from him and his friends.
“You don’t need to know that,” the taller guy answered abruptly.
“What you do need to know is that we know you, Augustus Prince. We also know you, Vincent Franz and you, Peter Baldwin. We know a hell of a lot about you and your shady dealings.” The shorter man continued.
Gus’ cheeks turned blood red and his hands were shaking badly as they rested on the table as he gazed at the newcomers. “Who are you?” he asked yet again, only more seriously this time.
“You know a friend of ours, Gus-Gus. At least, you were acquainted with her once, before you raped and killed her.” When this sinister announcement was met with more than a few blank stares from me, my co-workers and the other bar patrons, the stranger elaborated: “Oh, you all don’t know? This is Gus Prince, Vick Franz and Pete Baldwin. They’re famous on the news these days; you’re probably more familiar with their work as the ‘Trinity Troika’. Gus over here likes the women a little too much; Vick’s into money laundering; And Pete takes care of the books and keeps his nose clean, with a little racketeering on the side. Better drink up, boys. It’s gonna be your last.” The taller stranger warned, a creepy smile plastered on his face.
At that point, Gus smashed his beer glass on the table and stood up, shaking all over with rage and grasping the jagged shard so tightly in his balled-up fist that it started to bleed a little. “Come try that bold shit over here, asshole,” he implored, his teeth bared like a wild animal.
“With pleasure,” the shorter stranger remarked casually. To my intense horror, his whole face seemed to break out into scaly flaps of skin, crisscrossing with black veins that appeared out of nowhere, along with his brown eyes morphing into blood-red orbs. And I watched with morbid curiosity as he launched himself off the back of his heels and landed squarely on top of Gus’ shoulders. I emitted a scream when sharp fangs shot out from behind his parted lips as he sank them hard into Gus’ neck and drank deeply.
Vick screamed like a banshee and tried to get away while Pete held his ground, retrieving a blade from his jacket pocket. At this point, the whole bar was in a state of total chaos. The other patrons, along with Roy and Eddie, tried to haul ass out of the entrance. But it was like some strange magic was being worked over the bar. The doors which had been unlocked the entire time just wouldn’t open- no matter how much anyone tried. The shorter man was now through drinking his fill of blood and he had left a gaping laceration on the side of Gus’ neck. Gus lay on his back with his eyes wide open. My heart dropped in my stomach while staring at the man’s mouth, which was now rimmed red and dripping with blood at the edges. The taller man grabbed hold of Vick’s shirt and threw him savagely into the jukebox in the corner of the room. Both man and jukebox careened violently onto the side and didn’t move a muscle afterwards.
With a roar, Pete charged forward with blade in hand and stabbed the taller man savagely in the stomach. But the man simply looked down at the protruding hilt and grinned wickedly at his attacker. Then in a flash, he grabbed hold of Pete’s neck with both hands. He twisted and twisted till I heard a sickening crunch , followed by skin, bone, muscle and membrane tearing and separating from each other. I gasped in terror when I saw the head he’d just ripped right off its neck rolling on the floor like a lost bowling ball.
And just because things couldn’t possibly get any weirder, the shorter man calmed the mayhem of people by uttering one word with four letters:
“Stop.”
Everyone, including my co-workers stopped running and freaking out and became as still as tombstones, their eyes frozen as if with shards of ice. The only thing that told me they were still alive was the gentle rising and falling of their chests. The taller man, whose eyes had also turned blood red with black veins and scales erupting all over his face walked forward and addressed the bar.
“Everything is fine, you are not in danger. The three men lying dead on the floor are notorious criminals who fought amongst one another and got killed in the process. This is what you till tell the police should they make any inquiries. You will not remember seeing our faces tonight. Go home now and lock your doors.”
And just like that, every single person save for me and the two strangers walked calmly out of the bar entrance and left. Which left me alone with two murderous psychopaths who judging from their morphed faces and telltale fangs, are definitely vampires. Before they could say anything to me, my numb legs led me out of the door too. And then I ran and ran, until I was as far away from that bloodbath as I could be.
CHAPTER 2
Only heaven alone knows how I got any sleep that night. The truth is, I don’t even remember exactly how I got back to my crumby apartment after what I witnessed at the bar. All I know is that it was 6pm the next day and my phone started ringing. I picked up the receiver, every inch of my body aching with fatigue and listened to my uncle yelling nonsensically on the other side:
“Ginny, where the hell are you?! I’ve been calling your phone for hours now! I take your Aunt out for a nice romantic dinner and come back to find the bar in shambles! And those two idiots, Roy and Eddie, don’t have a fucking clue how it happened! I appreciate you telling those two strapping friends of yours to help fix up the place, but you should’ve cleared it with me first, young lady!”
Two strapping guys? Wait, he doesn’t mean…
“Uncle Ted, I’m really sorry, but I’m on my way now,” Then I hung up the phone and changed into the first items of clothing I could lay my hands on. Then I made a mad dash for my uncle’s bar. On the way out the door I grabbed a piece of paper taped to the door and stuffed in my purse.
When I sprinted through the doors, I came to a careening halt. Except for a few scuff marks made by chairs and shoes on the floor, the bar was spotless. There
were no bloodstains, no shards of glass lying on the floor. Even the jukebox had been put back up and didn’t have a single dent on it. What the hell happened here?
In answer to that, my uncle came walking quickly towards me, a scowl plastered on his face. “Young Lady-”
“I know, I’m so sorry I’m late, Uncle Ted! But I’m here now and I can explain everything-”
“There’s no need for that, your two friends already took care of the mess. Can you believe those sons of bitches, the Trinity Troika, were actually in my bar last night? If I’d been here instead of out with your aunt, those clowns would have had to stitch their balls back onto their bodies after I got through with them. Beck, Santiago – how much do I owe you for the damage?” my uncle called out.
I turned my head and gasped sharply when I laid eyes on the two vampires from last night. Gone were their scaly faces and blood-soaked fangs. They were replaced with charming demeanours and easy-going smiles. Who the hell are these guys? Stefan and Damon Salvatore?
“You don’t owe us a dime, Ted.” The taller Caucasian vampire said with a smile.
“We’re just happy those illegitimos finally got what they deserved,” the shorter Hispanic vampire added with a light chuckle. This is so fucking surreal.
“Well all the same, any drinks you want tonight, it’s on the house.” My uncle told the two vampires. “Ginny, I need you to start wiping down the tables,” he added in an aside. Then he gave my arm a gentle squeeze and went on his way, whistling merrily to himself.
Which left me alone with two supernatural creatures who I’m pretty sure only helped my uncle and covered up the mess they made last night so that they could silence the one and only witness of their crime – a.k.a. moi. They advanced on me slowly and I backed away hurriedly, till my back bumped against a rickety table I was supposed to be cleaning. My uncle was in the kitchen, so I desperately tried to signal to Roy and Eddie that I needed assistance por favor. But they weren’t making any contact with me from behind the bar. It was almost as if they were –
“Compelled,” the shorter vampire affirmed, as if he could read my thoughts.
“Actually, everyone in the bar is. So is your uncle; he thinks he’s doing inventory in the kitchen when he’s actually taking an open-eyed nap against a back wall. Call it ‘vampire mojo’ if you will.” The taller vampire continued, flashing me a heart-stopping, sexy smile.
“Guys, I don’t want any trouble,” I began in a pitiable voice. “My uncle doesn’t pay me enough to be a hero. And I kinda like having my head attached to my neck instead of it rolling around on the floor-”
“Whoa, calm down, Chiquita. Nobody’s ripping anyone’s heads off, especially not one as pretty as yours,” Jose Cuervo said in a simpering voice.
“I only ripped that douche’s head off because he stabbed me with a knife. And he and his friends were the bad guys,” the taller vampire noted.
“So what does that make you guys? The heroes of the story?” I couldn’t resist firing back.
Both men looked at one another and burst out laughing before turning to face me once more. “Hardly, just the opposite, really. We’re vampires who usually don’t give a crap about other humans, nor do we get involved in human squabbles. But we met this pretty cool chick who gave us a helping hand in more ways than one and that son of a bitch, Gus Prince, murdered her. So we figured he and his crew had a little karma coming their way.”
“I don’t understand any of this,” I stammered, rubbing my temples in a bid to bring myself into a state of equilibrium. “Why am the only one in the bar who isn’t compelled right now?”
“Mainly because we think you are cute,” the shorter Hispanic vampire said with absurd simplicity.
“So you’re like, what? Horny vampires or something? You don’t even know me, and I sure as hell don’t know who the hell you both are or what you even want. Why did you insist on cleaning up a mess you caused?”
“We felt bad for trashing your uncle’s place, when he had shit to do with our little vendetta with Gus and his pals,” the shorter vampire answered, a bashful smile playing on his lips.
“So now that we’ve explained ourselves a little better, maybe we should actually introduce ourselves. I’m Beck,” the taller vampire introduced, extending a lean and muscular hand towards me.
“And I’m Santiago,” the shorter vampire added, throwing me a devastatingly sexy smile. This is all too fucking weird; I think I need to lie down.
“Maybe this is a little forward, Ginger. But we stopped by your apartment earlier and found an eviction notice on your front door from your landlord. So if you need a place to live –”
“You can crash with us. We have plenty of room,” Santiago ended off.
“An eviction notice?” I asked of myself in a flurry. So that’s what was taped to the door.I grabbed the paper out of my purse. They were right. I groaned. And all because I was a teensie bit late on 3 months’ worth of rent. My landlord really needs to consider wearing boxers; his balls are getting squished out of order in those tightey-whiteys he usually wears. “Let me get this straight: you’re both vampires and you’re asking me, a human woman, to live with you? Why?” I demanded in confusion.
“We get bored easily. And you look like you might actually be tons of fun,” Beck replied swiftly. It’s officially, I’ve hit rock bottom. And rock bottom just happened to be teeming with insane vampires.
CHAPTER 3
The next day, I went to confront my landlord about the eviction notice. All he would tell me was that I had a day to clean my crap out since he’d already found a new tenant. And things got even stranger when he assured me that one of my friends had given him an envelope filled with a wad of cash to cover the 3 months I hadn’t paid rent for.
The ‘friend’ in question turned out to be Santiago, who showed up around the time that I’d procured a couple of boxes from Home Depot for my things. Beck showed up a few minutes later and both of them single-handedly packed and carried my things down to a moving truck they’d organized just for me. I guessed they really wanted me to live with them.
I wasn’t sure I’d made up my mind about anything by the time I reached the studio loft the two vampires shared in a downtown neighbourhood of Seattle called East Roxbury. But I knew I had my answer when I stepped over the threshold and gazed in awe at my new home.
It was a studio loft with wooden floors painted varying shades of light grey and walls encased with red bricks that ran all the way up to the windows which overlooked the adjacent building across the street. The walls were lined with rustic brown which matched the thin brown blinds that covered both living room windows. The living room was sparsely, but comfortably furnished with a two-seater sofa positioned in front of a big-screen TV with a massive vintage poster of a young and swarthy Al Pacino hanging above it and a small, foosball table just behind the sofa. I stared aghast at the adorable round table with four red chairs stacked all around it and an antique arcade machine.
The loft became all the more modern and extravagant the closer I moved to the four bedrooms located behind a Japanese screen of sorts which separated them from the living room area. One look at the bedroom with boxer briefs and issues of Playboy strewn across the floor told me that it must belong to Beck. Although his fascination with naked human women was a little baffling to say the least. Then I passed by a bedroom door left ajar. Inside I could see an impressive bookcase filled to the brim with every kind of novel and editorial imaginable. That must be Santiago’s room.
“This will be your room over here,” Beck informed me with a nonchalant gait. I opened the door and peered inside. The only things inside there were a queen-sized poster bed and a pedestal drawer with a chic lamp on top. But the bedroom window had an amazing view of the Seattle skyline, which made me swoon.
And just because I couldn’t stop spazzing over my good fortune, I jogged back into the hallway and opened the door to the fourth bedroom. And stopped dead in my tracks at what lay before me. I
t had a bed inside, but there were a few strange contraptions visible to the naked eye like a set of fuzzy handcuffs hanging above the headboard. My eyes travelled over what looked like a whip of sorts coiled around a lamp next to the bed. Then my eyes practically bugged out of my skull at a box closest to me that looked like it contained a variety of sexy toys.
“Uh…this room isn’t quite ready for visitors yet,” Santiago interjected with nervous laughter, guiding me away from the room in question.
“Of course it is; it’s set up exactly the way we want it – it’s a torture/sex chamber, depending on what we need it to be in the moment.” Beck supplied with a wicked smile.
“He’s kidding,” Santiago shot back, scowling pointedly at his vampire compatriot.
“He’s really not,” Beck retorted, his grin becoming all the wider as he continued referring to himself in the second person.
“Whatever, I don’t care about the freaky stuff that vampires do. It’s not like I’m ever gonna use that room for anything.” I offered with a mesh of diplomacy and what I thought was genuine dismissal.
Boy, was I wrong about that.
Chapter 4
A whole two weeks passed after that and I was slowly getting used to my new surroundings as well as my vampire roommates. For all his show of being an egotistical ass-hat, Beck was surprisingly kind and chivalrous on a good day. He wasn’t one for talking, but he always found a way to be there and give me a helping hand when I needed it, especially when it came to lugging hefty crap around.
As for Santiago, he and I clicked instantly. He was well-read, smart, funny, sensitive and a generally nice guy. Wait, generally nice vampire. No, generally nice guy/vampire – aww, forget it. He was incredibly easy to talk to; on my very first night in my new apartment, he and I stayed up till 4am just getting to know each other. He even told me about how he became a vampire.
