Celia heard the sound of pointed stilettos before she saw her. Vixen stuck her pointed nose in the air and sniffed. “Smells like sex out here.” Her eyes found the shirtless love of Celia’s life. “And Ian. Smells like Ian.” She smiled at him in her itty-bitty red dress.
They had to walk past them on the porch to get to Ian’s front door—that or jump the railing, and despite being immortal, Celia was still a damned klutz. She would never make it over the railing, so she held tight to Ian’s hand and did her best to ignore the monsters that had usurped her living space.
“Excuse us,” Celia said, but Danny threw his arm around her shoulders and steered her into her apartment. It smelled like blood in there, and she soon saw why. There was another couple inside—a human couple—with glazed eyes and drool on the sides of their mouths. They weren’t dead but they were definitely dinner.
“We’re having a little party,” Danny whispered into her hair. His fingertips dug into the outside of her arm. “I know you just ate, but you want a nibble?”
Celia tried to look behind her, find Ian, but Danny’s muscular upper body blocked her view.
“You should shut the front door, at least,” she said. “What if someone saw?”
“Nobody’s gonna see, baby, and if they did, what are they gonna do? We’ll just tell ‘em these two had too much giggle water.”
Celia thought it wouldn’t be a hard sell. There were empty liquor bottles everywhere. The obvious scent of smoke and sweaty sex permeated her apartment. They joked about the Sleeping Gull Apartments being a shithole, but Danny and Vixen were on their way to making it the God’s honest truth.
She shoved her elbow into Danny’s side to get away from him and turned just in time to see Vixen…licking Ian’s open wound.
Ian was glamoured, and that alone was enough to freak Celia out, as she’d never seen him that way before and had never planned to. He looked like a zombie on his feet, his blue eyes unfocused and spooky. Vixen had him leaned against the doorframe, and her little pink tongue poked and prodded at the holes Celia had made in the park.
My holes. My blood. My boyfriend.
Celia unleashed a Hulk noise and sprinted at Vixen. There was no stopping her. She barreled into the bitch, and they went sprawling into the night, right over the porch ledge. They landed in a huge hibiscus bush, and since Celia didn’t actually know how to punch, she just sort of flailed her arms at Vixen’s face. She kept making these high-pitched cat noises, but it was obvious Vixen didn’t know to fight either, considering she flailed her hands at Celia like cold, dead fish.
Celia didn’t see red. She saw the whole fucking rainbow.
She barely heard Heidi screaming at her as the landlady arrived outside. Danny was laughing; Celia ignored that, too. Really the only thing that stopped her from clawing Vixen’s eyes out was Ian, suddenly close, tugging at her shoulders.
“Celia.”
She allowed him to pull her out of the bush and off Vixen’s double-D implants. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, then pulled her to standing. For some reason, she felt the need to continue flailing at the air until she smacked her own boyfriend in the face. He said, “Ow,” but didn’t let go.
“Now, it’s a party.” Danny clapped his hands as his new creation stood in the center of Heidi’s landscaping. One of her high heels was gone, and mulch stuck to her long, red hair. She pulled at her dress and glared at Danny.
“Why didn’t you help me?”
“Baby, it was a hell of a show, let me tell you.” He was bent over laughing with his hands on his knees.
“Speaking of which,” Heidi said, “you’re interrupting mine.” Her blonde wig was on straight that night, and she was in ill-advised cut-off shorts and a bikini top that showed off her baseball mitt skin. “Celia, who are these people?”
“They’re my…they’re just staying for a couple days.” Celia stared pointedly at Danny.
“Well.” Heidi took a deep breath and blew her chest up like a balloon. “Keep it down. I gotta find out how the maid got away with killing the family cat.” She turned and slammed her front door.
Ian still had his arms around Celia, but that didn’t stop her from pointing a finger at Vixen. “Don’t you ever, ever glamour my boyfriend again.”
She stood there, crooked in only one shoe. “Or what?”
“I’ll feed you your silicone,” Imogene said. She arrived at Celia’s side, arms crossed, white earbuds tossed over her shoulder. Based on the tone of her voice, Celia assumed she’d been listening to early Metallica.
“My bearcat has arrived!” Danny announced, opening his arms wide.
“You call me that again, and I’ll feed you your own right testicle.”
Celia felt Imogene’s claw-like hand on her upper arm.
“Let’s get inside, lovebirds.”
They left Vixen cursing in the bushes as she searched for her lost shoe. Danny smiled as they passed and then gave Ian a once-over that was way more than friendly.
Imogene locked the door behind them, and Celia went to the kitchen to get Ian a washcloth for his neck. When she got back, her friends were on the couch. Ian looked stoned, and Imogene had her hands in his hair.
Celia must have looked murderous, because Imogene scooted away from him. “What? You know it calms him down.”
“Forgive me for feeling a little territorial after tit bitch just glamoured him and licked his neck.”
Imogene leaned forward on the couch. “She huh?”
Celia sat down next to Ian and held the damp cloth to his bite marks. He took the cloth from her hand and slouched.
“That stripper went after Ian?”
“Exotic dancer,” he muttered sleepily.
Celia sighed. “She didn’t bite him, but she might have if I hadn’t turned around when I did.”
“If he wasn’t worth a shit ton of money, she might have done more than that,” Imogene said.
Celia brushed Ian’s hair with her fingers. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve been poking around. Apparently, Danny and Vixen have been in Lazaret longer than we realized.” She paused for dramatic effect. “They’ve been here since humans started getting deaded.”
“You think Danny killed those humans?”
“No, even that idiot knows better. He’s old. He obviously got turned in the twenties, right, what with his damn suits and calling everyone ‘baby.’ I’m surprised he hasn’t called us ‘dames’ yet, for cripes’ sake. No, a newbie vamp kills humans on accident because they’re so hungry.”
“But I didn’t—”
Imogene held her hand up. “Yeah, Merk, I know, but you also vomit, and newbie vampires aren’t supposed to be able to do that either. You’re an exception, ’kay? But that Vixen fake-tit newborn, I wouldn’t put it past her for a second.”
“She’s killing people?” Celia thought about the comatose humans on her couch next door.
“I can’t be sure. I’m just saying, Danny is hiding something.”
“Like wanting to use me as a blood bank?”
Imogene nodded at Ian. “More than that. I just don’t know what it is yet.” She stood. “Want a beer?”
Celia shook her head, no, but Ian nodded as Imogene disappeared into the kitchen.
“Are you okay?” Celia whispered.
“Yeah. Thanks for going psycho windmill on that girl.”
“Did I really look like a windmill?”
Imogene came back with two cold ones and handed Ian his beer. Celia noticed his usual cheap Nattie Light smelled funny. At first, she thought it was skunked, but then it dawned on her.
“Do not drink that!” Celia grabbed the beer from Ian’s hand. “Imogene!”
She snickered. “Whaaaaat?”
Celia glanced down at Ian. “She put her blood in your beer.” She stomped into the kitchen and poured the can down the sink. “Imogene, we are not turning Ian!”
She shrugged. “It would solve all our problems.”<
br />
“No, it wouldn’t!” Celia smacked Imogene in the head.
Imogene batted her hand away and stood. “How so? If Ian was a vampire, we wouldn’t have to worry about Danny and fake-tits kidnapping him and turning him into a blood slave. In fact, if Ian was a vampire, they would leave, and everything would go back to normal!”
“Normal? Normal! Ian ending up a vampire is not normal!”
“How long are you going to delude yourself, Merk? If you don’t turn him, someday, he’s gonna die—from natural causes or whatever, he will be dead, and you will be alone for eternity, missing him. You’re a fucking vampire, Celia. Your boyfriend is human. How did you think this was going to end?”
Celia felt her eyes begin to burn.
“Enough!” Celia had never heard Ian yell before, and it made both the girls jump. He sounded commanding and really sexy. He stood and pushed them away from each other. “Sit down, both of you.”
Celia fell back on the couch, and when Imogene huffed and hesitated, Ian grabbed her wrist and dragged her to a chair. He stood above them, shirtless with a washcloth against his neck, but his height alone gave him authority.
“First of all,” he said, “my becoming a vampire is neither of your decisions.”
“But—”
“Imogene.” He pointed at her until she clapped her mouth shut. “Secondly, if I want to become a vampire—which I don’t—it won’t happen because some asshole next door wants to kidnap me. It’ll be out of love.” He gestured to Celia. “Thirdly…” He dropped the washcloth and raked his hands through his hair. “We gotta get Danny and Vixen the fuck out of here.”
The f-word was not part of Ian’s usual vernacular; therefore, he meant business.
“Duh,” Imogene agreed, “but how?”
“Take back Celia’s apartment. You have a new blood dealer, right?”
“What?” Imogene looked at her.
“My therapist gave me a connection, but the blood is, like, blessed by a shaman or something.”
“Shit, it’s probably pig’s blood.” Imogene buried her face in her hands.
“Look, it’s good for now, right? Then, you don’t need angry Steve, and that’s what Danny is holding over you, anyway.”
“So, what, I just go over there and ask them to leave?”
“I guess it won’t be that easy, will it?” Ian fell down on the couch next to Celia.
Celia looked over at Imogene, who was biting her front lip hard enough to practically make herself bleed. She had her brows lowered. Then, she said, “I annoy you, right?”
“Huh?”
“I can be annoying,” Imogene said.
Celia shrugged.
“I mean, I use you for your blood and never pay you back. I sit on your couch watching your TV and play with your boyfriend’s hair even though I know it turns him on.”
Ian nodded, expressionless.
“I drug you and make you go out when you don’t want to. I make fun of you every chance I get. I’m everywhere you don’t want me to be, even in your bed, so I’m annoying, right?”
“I always just thought of you as kind of mean,” Celia said.
“What if I start annoying Danny and Vixen?”
“Meaning?”
“I invade your apartment. I drink all Danny’s blood and watch your TV at Heidi’s True Crime volume and interrupt them having sex. Oh, and borrow Vixen’s clothes without asking.”
“Hit on Danny,” Ian muttered.
Imogene nodded. “Vixen would hate that.”
“You hit on him, too.” Ian gestured to Celia.
“Ew.”
“Exactly. No man likes being hit on by an ex fling.”
Celia paused. “So instead of threatening them to leave, we annoy them until they leave?”
“Yes,” Ian said.
“Well, while we’re over there fake seducing Danny, what are you going to do?”
“Get high.”
“Typical,” Imogene replied.
“Operation Burn Your Bed begins tomorrow night,” Ian said.
“Burn my bed?”
“I’m not sleeping on that thing after what’s been happening over there.” He threw a thumb at the wall. “We’ll burn your mattress once they’re gone. A big beach bonfire.”
Would it work?
She knew from personal experience Danny ran from anything that made his life difficult. Hell, he was in Florida, running from something in New York. He was a runner, and maybe, just maybe, if they could make him uncomfortable enough, he would leave.
Chapter Nineteen
It all started when Imogene refused to go over to Celia’s apartment due to what she termed “unnatural animal noises.” Point of fact, Danny and Vixen were just murdering each other in Celia’s bed. Celia was frankly surprised the entire complex had yet to call the police. You could hear their sexing from the beach, and on the beach, they were contending with the ocean—not a pond, but the life force of the entire world.
Imogene wouldn’t go over because she said she didn’t want to even consider the compromising, contortionist-esque positions she might walk in on. When Celia begged to differ (due to Imogene’s earlier request to watch Celia have her first orgasm), she deflected by saying she just wanted to watch Ian use his tongue.
Point: Imogene.
While the girls argued in Ian’s kitchen, they barely noticed him leave the room until the front door opened. Celia yelled after him when he turned left on the porch. By the time Imogene and Celia reached him, he had the front door to her apartment open.
The unnatural animal noises were suddenly louder.
The girls followed him inside, and thankfully, Danny and Vixen were not humping in the middle of her living room. They were actually in the bedroom, which made Celia cover her mouth and roll her eyes.
Ian, in true Ian fashion, stepped barefoot onto her living room table—covered in empty blood bags and a few roving flies—and started to sing.
“I want to…”
He screeched the opening lines of “Bicycle Race.” It was the most annoying Queen song ever but oddly fitting for a competitive cyclist, especially a tone-deaf competitive cyclist. He went on for thirty seconds or so. With the final note, he extended his arms up over his head like an orchestra conductor.
Celia’s bedroom door popped open, and Danny came stomping out in nothing but a newsboy hat over his junk. “What the—” Celia watched his brown eyes take in the scene: Ian on the living room table, Imogene trying not to laugh, and Celia, staring at her boyfriend in awed adoration.
“Hey, man,” Ian said. He stepped off the table. “Think I left some of my whiskey over here.” He patted Danny’s bare shoulder as he passed and walked into the kitchen.
“What in the tainted tit is goin’ on out here?” Vixen stepped up next to Danny in a skirt…and nothing else. The hand covering Celia’s mouth moved to cover her eyes. “Oh, hello, Ian,” she heard Vixen say, which made Celia uncover her eyes.
Her boyfriend had, indeed, left some whiskey at her place, apparently hidden in the crisper drawer of the fridge. He drank straight from the bottle and eyed Vixen’s stretched-skin double-Ds. Celia was about to feel bad about herself until Ian said, “Did you know your breasts aren’t the same size?”
Vixen’s red lips parted in a gaping hole. Then, she started smacking Danny hard in the shoulder blades. “You said they were perfect!” She retreated to Celia’s bedroom, sobbing, followed by Danny’s bare ass cheeks and his voice: “Baby…”
“He’s a one man wrecking crew,” Imogene whispered.
Ian stepped over the coffee table and sprawled out on Celia’s couch. “There’s some blood in the fridge, Imogene.” He gestured to the kitchen. “Celia, why don’t you pick out a movie?” He looked up at them both—and smiled.
Oh, what a wicked man.
Two minutes later, they could still hear Danny and Vixen yelling at each other in the bedroom. Imogene had her big boots on the coffee table and a bag of B-negative
attached to her lips. Ian calmly consumed the dregs of a bottle of forgotten whiskey. Celia went through her VHS collection until they all agreed that Dirty Dancing was the best worst movie to watch.
Celia went to her kitchen and found it just about as destroyed as her living room. Again, empty blood bags were everywhere, along with dirty wine glasses, stained with blood—and Celia didn’t even know she owned wine glasses. Flies circled the sink.
There was no A-positive left in the fridge, but she did find a bag of O-negative that would have to do. Other than that, Danny and Vixen were running low. Celia cozied up on the couch next to her brilliant, evil boyfriend just as her ex came strolling out of the bedroom in nothing but a pair of pants and striped suspenders. His copious chest hair was all a mess, like maybe Vixen had pulled on it to make a point. His dark eyebrows were lowered over his dark eyes.
Before Celia could even burp, Danny lifted Ian off the couch by the front of his t-shirt and then literally lifted her six-foot-tall boyfriend off the ground. Imogene and Celia both pounced, which wasn’t actually in Ian’s best interest, because as they tackled Danny, Ian fell sideways and smacked his head against the edge of Celia’s coffee table.
Celia assumed they all smelled Ian’s blood at once, because they all stopped wrestling and made a collective “hummm” noise.
Celia’s legs were tangled around Danny’s, her hands around his neck. Imogene had one hand twisted in his hair, and her fangs were out big time. Despite this, Danny sat up with both girls all jumbled around him, which made Imogene and Celia sit up, too.
Ian was across the coffee table from them, one of his legs over it. There was a small gash above his right eye, bleeding red, red, red…but Celia’s fangs did not go boing, probably because she was suddenly panicked to realize Danny was way stronger than even Imogene. There was no way Celia could defend her now bleeding boyfriend from her maker, but she soon learned she didn’t really have to.
Ian got this look on his face like Imogene got whenever Heidi called her Olive Oyl. Then, without moving, without blinking, he looked at Danny and said, “I dare you to come close to me right now.”
It might have been the timbre of his voice or the way Ian wasn’t afraid—at all. His heartbeat was Hannibal Lecter calm. He looked vicious.
Bite Somebody Page 19
