The Librarian’s Vampire Assistant, Book 3

by Pamfiloff, Mimi Jean

  A twitch of dread pulses deep in my stomach. Dammit, man. Stop it. You’ve fought in the Great Vampire War. You’ve slayed thousands of deadly, evil vampires. You are Michael Vanderhorst! I win at everything I do, despite the obstacles. It is what makes me a legend, feared by the masses.

  I straighten my back and apply my sternest expression. “Miriam, you know I consider myself a gentleman, and gentlemen do not go around frightening women or children. We protect them.” I lean down and stare deeply into her wide brown eyes. “I am a vampire. I drink blood. Sure, I also enjoy strong coffee and vegetarian cuisine with blistering hot chili peppers because it makes me feel alive, but I still require blood to live. Just like your ex-boyfriend Jeremy.”

  Miriam’s smile melts away.

  Good. I’ve finally gotten through to her. Wait… Uh-oh. Maybe not?

  Her plump little lips flatten, and she balls her tiny hands into tight fists. Rage shoots from her eyes. “That wasn’t funny, Michael. You know how much I miss Jeremy. How-how could you make a joke out of that?”

  Oh, Jesus… Miriam’s ex and his boss got involved in the blood-farm scandal and were murdered by whoever was behind it all. They wanted to cover their tracks. Up until now, she was unaware that both men were vampires and that Jeremy was not a good man.

  Someday I will tell her the entire story. “I’m sorry I mentioned Jeremy. Truly. But we have no time to play gam—”

  “No!” She stands and points an angry finger in my face. “You do not get to talk about him. You do not get to use his name for a gag.”

  How can she think so little of me?

  “Miriam, I apologize, but you must trust me when I say he was not who you think. I am not who you think.” I begin opening my mouth to flash a bit of fang.

  “Get. Out,” she barks, angrier than I’ve ever seen her.

  “Miriam, I—”

  “You heard me. Get out! You promised to never lie to me again. You swore the bullshit would stop, yet here you are, doing it again. You don’t understand what it’s like to lose the people you love, Michael. I lost my parents. I lost my boyfriend. I almost lost my library! So how,” she throws her hands in the air, “could you possibly think asking me to lose my sanity would make me feel better?”

  I hang my head and sigh with remorse. Though she accuses me of being insensitive, it’s quite the opposite. I hear her loud and clear: One more loss, one more heartbreaking ordeal, and she will break. She still mourns the loss of her parents in an accident last year, and Jeremy is never far from her thoughts. She’s been threatened, attacked, and kidnapped more than once these past few weeks, all because of Jeremy’s illicit dealings, which she knows nothing about. Still, if I truly mean what I say about protecting her mind, body, and soul with everything I have, then I cannot push her further. Vampires and the violence to come with this war must remain in the shadows as long as possible.

  I bob my head and offer my most remorseful expression—furrowed brows and puppy-dog eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Sometimes I get carried away.” I smack my forehead. “Stupid college student, yanno.”

  She narrows her eyes. “You need to leave.”

  “Going.” I raise my palms in surrender. “But please don’t stay mad. I really was trying to make you feel better—I know how much you love those vampire romances and—”

  She holds up a hand to stop me.

  I nod in compliance. “See you at the library.”

  I leave her house, knowing she will be safe for the moment. Her Southwestern-style mansion has a basement, a vault, and two separate wings of rare and priceless books. Her state-of-the-art security system will keep out any intruders—at least long enough for me to show up and assist her, should she call for help, which she will if she feels afraid. That is the mystery between us. I need her. She needs me. Neither understands why or is ready to confront it. Simply put, our bond is a mystery.

  Speaking of…what will I do when she leaves the house? Because, despite modern myths, my kind does walk in the sun. We hate it—especially in this sunny hellhole called Arizona—but we do it. Therefore, she is in danger twenty-four seven from my enemies.

  I slide into my black rental SUV and shove the key in the ignition. I’d better figure something out fast. She’ll be leaving for work in a few hours. I will have to return later and follow her to the library.

  I crank the engine, and it roars to life with a knock and a sputter. That’s odd. I put it in drive and head for the gate. The moment I exit Miriam’s property, the SUV begins to chug. One block away, the thing dies.

  Well, crap.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “I’m sorry, dude, but we’re all out of midsize and large vehicles. We got four conventions going on this week, so…yeah. But I have your lucky car. Cool, right?” The rental lot attendant points outside to my nemesis, but I refuse to look. The vehicle offends everything I hold dear about my masculinity.

  Instead, I glare at the young hippy man. “Surely you must have something else. Something bigger.”

  “Nope.”

  Dammit. This electric car is like a rash that won’t go away. Over the past month, I somehow keep getting stuck with it. I really should buy a vehicle. I just never seem to have the time, and when I first arrived in Arizona last month, I hadn’t planned on staying. That’s all changed now.

  Finally, I turn my head and eye the compact blue monstrosity sitting all alone in the lot like the uncoordinated child no one wants on their rugby team. The thing looks like a child’s toy. But not the charming kind you reminisce about decades later, such as a rock you push with a stick or pair of knucklebones—my personal favorite as a child. All right. Fine. Toys of the 1600s truly sucked. And so does this car.

  “Sorry, man,” says the clerk. “Everything coming in today is reserved. You can try the lot down the road, but I called them earlier for another customer. They were booked up, too.”

  Dammit. I could start calling around, but there’s no time to lose. We’re in the middle of a crisis. Our enemies are about to attack because they believe we should all return to the old ways, when humans were openly preyed upon and covens lived in a state of constant war over hunting grounds.

  Ridiculous.

  Our enemies are crusty-minded, power-hungry delusionals. Humans are no longer the easy game of two thousand years ago. Today, they have weapons and technology. They have armies. If vampires were found out, we’d be no match, and taking our council members prisoner will not change the truth.

  Oh, did I fail to mention that part?

  Yes, all one hundred and forty-four council members from around the world have been taken. It is a page right out of the vampire warfare playbook. Cut off the head of the snake. If the snake grows another, keep on chopping. If the snake hides its head, cut off the snake’s arms and legs until it screams for mercy.

  All right, snakes do not have appendages, but you get the point. You also get why I am not so excited about being the interim leader. Our enemies will look for any weakness to exploit. Everyone I care for will be a target. Lula, my right hand, who is currently manning—or womanning?—my territory of Ohio, is strong and fast. She can take care of herself. But people like Miriam? Or my young vampire assistant, Viviana, here in Phoenix? They will be sitting ducks.

  What’s an ancient, powerful, but unwilling-to-be-king to do? He must reestablish order by returning our council members to their rightful places. Then they will lead the effort to defeat these ridiculous vampire degenerates who risk exposing us all.

  So where are our enemies hiding?

  How big is their army?

  Where have the council members been taken?

  I do not know, but I intend to find out.

  Mystery! Mystery! Mystery! My inner-vampire child jumps up and down with sadistic delight. Even now, under such dire circumstances, it cannot resist the thrill of playing detective.

  First things first, however, I must assemble a team of guards for myself and those around me. After that, I will arran
ge a secure way for the generals around the world to discuss a defense plan while I find out where our missing council members are.

  Point is, I do not have time to hunt down another car, and I wouldn’t dare send anyone on a frivolous errand for me. King or not, leader of two territories or not, my job is to protect my people, not to be pampered by them.

  I hold out my hand. “Give me the blue scrotum.” The ancient man inside me groans in agony. “But I want an SUV or something larger the moment it becomes available. You hear me?”

  “We’re booked for the week, so…” The clerk gives me a look, and I know what he wants. He is into guys, and though I could never fault him for wanting a piece of this impressive slice of manliness, I am not what he’s after. I recently paid him a few thousand dollars—no questions asked—to drive the blue turd cake. He and I have a similar build, so I used him as a double when I was being followed. To match our appearances, I cut his hair like mine, which did wonders for his love life. Happy to help, of course. A man must always look his best. However, he’s been bothering me for a trim ever since. I am an excellent barber, but I have no time for such things.

  Yes, but you cannot be stuck with that blue cheese-doodle.

  I sigh with defeat. “Find me scissors, but I want my SUV back.”

  He smiles. “I will move your name to the top of the list.”

  When I arrive to my office an hour and a half later, my assistant, Viviana, is waiting inside with a delicious triple-nonfat-latte in her hand. With all the running around this morning, including returning to Miriam’s home and secretly ensuring she got to work safely, I’m just as anxious for my caffeine fix as I am to hear an update. Also, I need to get back to the library as soon as possible to check on things. I hate leaving Miriam alone, but I must deal with this situation.

  “How did your hunt for guards go?” I eagerly snatch my coffee from Viviana’s hand. She worked through the night, compiling a list of qualified warriors to guard us. Each territory—aka “society” or coven—is already supposed to have its own security; however, the prior guards all worked for the former leader, who had his hand in every scheme possible, including the blood farm I mentioned. When I took over, I immediately kicked them all to the coffin. I do not tolerate traitors. That is not to say I am against breaking vampire law. I’ve been known to bend a rule or two. Or a few hundred.

  The disappointment in her green eyes is immediate.

  “What is the matter?” I ask, noting that her brown bob looks freshly coiffed, and she is wearing a stylish blue dress—formfitting and low cut. She is an attractive woman to be sure, but my librarian, with her bottle-cap reading glasses and sloppy manner of dress, is the only female who has ever caught my eye. It goes without saying that I have bedded women when the need arose; though, work has been my constant lover. As for Viviana, she is a loyal assistant and smart as a whip, which is why it’s odd she went home to bathe and change her clothes. We have urgent work to do.

  “I can’t get you any guards.” She sighs.

  “Why not?”

  “Because every capable fighter has been called to active duty by our generals.”

  “Well, they are going to have to give some up. I cannot act as king without protection.” After all, it was the generals who determined I should lead. “Get General Otto on the phone.” His real name is Dieter Ottovordemgentshcen-blah-blah-blah. It’s rude to call a general by his first name, but no one has the time to actually say his entire last name, even if we’re all immortal.

  “Yes, sir.” Viviana scrambles to her desk, which sits in the middle of the room, surrounded by filing cabinets. We have no windows or natural light in this two-story brick building since sunshine bothers us, but the pale yellow walls and fake plants help to improve the cheeriness factor.

  “Send the call to my office.” I take the stairs and close the door behind me. I have only been in power a few short weeks, so there are no personal items. Just a solid mahogany desk and a leather chair.

  I go for the phone and press the blinking red button. “Otto?”

  “Vanderhorst, I’m sure you’re looking for a full military assessment, but I have yet to reach all of the other generals.”

  Not good. There are a total of five hundred and eighty-two societies around the world, all broken into twelve geographical regions. Each region has a council of twelve, and one of those members sits on our international council. The military is structured exactly the same but with generals. Otto leads Europe but is the head of the more powerful international group.

  “And which regions aren’t reporting in?” This could be a clue as to who is working with the enemy.

  “I’m still waiting for a full head count, but I am told several have gone dark.”

  Very bad. If we don’t have support from the majority of territories, including their generals and armies, we will be in serious trouble.

  “Have you tried reaching the individual society leaders from those areas? They might know something.”

  “We have, but no one is saying much. They don’t know who is friend or foe and refuse to answer questions until they are certain they’re talking to the good guys.”

  Crap. This is exactly what I feared. Without the leadership councils in place, each territory will put up its walls and treat everyone else with distrust. It’s what our enemies want: to use our natural suspicion of other vampire societies against us.

  “If we do not stick together, we have no hope of winning,” I say, thinking about how this is starting to feel all too familiar. During the Great War, when the vampires of the old world began attacking territories that wished to exist peacefully with each other, they tried to prevent us from banding together. The old rule would attack a family and make it look like it came from another coven on our side. The retaliation was immediate and brutal, sparking a coven war before anyone heard the facts. For this reason, the laws of today require that all justice be handed down by a society leader or by their region’s council. Of course, vampires aren’t big on rules. Everyone knows that.

  “They’re taking another page from the Great War’s playbook,” I say.

  “We have to make sure this doesn’t happen.”

  Ya don’t say… “Get the word out: Going forward I will administer all trials. If anyone is suspected of a crime, they are to be arrested and brought to me.” I feel mighty kingly all of a sudden. “No one is to harm a hair on a fellow vampire’s head until I have seen to a proper trial. To do so will be an act of treason.” I can only hope that my reputation, the one that earned me the nickname of the Executioner during the Great War, will prevent anyone from defying me.

  “Sir, I see where you’re heading with this, but how will you have the time?”

  “I won’t.” There is no possible way to help win a war, protect my people, and act as vampire sheriff for the entire planet. “This is why we must hurry to find our real leaders and free them.”

  “You really think they’re still alive?”

  I do not know who is spearheading this rebellion, but I do know who is running their army: Alex. He fought by my side during the Great War. He watched my back. He was a good friend. Until he turned on us all for reasons I do not understand. But when it comes to war, I taught Alex everything he knows, and it would be foolish to kill prisoners, especially high-ranking ones. They can be tortured and used for valuable information. They can be traded for POWs later on.

  “Unless the other side is being run by a group of nut monkeys,” I say, “then our leaders are safe. I simply have to locate them. As for you and all available generals, please start devising scenarios of defense. We could be hit one region at a time or all at once.” My money is on the former, considering our enemy’s army is probably only a thousand or two strong. Ours is closer to eight if all able-bodied fighters have been called in. However, Alex’s army has been pumped up with second-generation vampire blood, which means they are ten times stronger than your average vampire. That had been the whole purpose of the blood
farm we discovered in the massive catacombs beneath Miriam’s library a few weeks ago. At first I thought that the people behind it were after money—selling immortality to wealthy and elite humans. Then I learned the truth: They captured my maker, Clive, and drained him to death, using his blood to make five hundred more vampires, whom they milked like cows.

  Those bastards will pay for what they did to Clive. He was a good, good man. He fought to make this world a better place for humans and vampires alike. Symbiosis versus hunter and prey.

  Anyway, that blood, as strong as my own, was given to our enemy’s army. So while the other side might not have our numbers, they will make up for it in strength and speed.

  “If I were them,” I say, “I would attack each region, territory by territory.”

  “But where will they hit first?” Otto asks.

  “It’s anyone’s guess. South America is a big place with a large army. Take them out first, and the rest of the world will be a piece of cake.”

  “We’ll get back to you with strategic options, but, Vanderhorst, I think you need to come here to Blackpool and meet with some of the other generals. Otherwise, they might decide that ‘every vampire for himself’ is the best course of action.”

  Having us all hop on planes and gather at our UK headquarters would be a disaster. “If we assemble in one place, we could be hit again, and without our generals, we’d certainly lose. I will give the alternatives some thought. In the meantime, I need men here. I have no guards.”

  “I will assign twenty soldiers to you. Another ten can be spared for your office of…” he snickers, “the Arizona Society of Sunshine Love.”

  Yes. Yes. I know the name is ridiculous. However, I did not make it up. The previous nincompoop who led this territory chose it, and once a society is established as a legal entity in the human world, we cannot change it. The less attention we draw, the better. Our society is registered as some sort of conservation group, dedicated to creating public awareness about the health benefits of sunshine. The founder likely intended it as a joke, but it makes our members come off as idiots. If I had my druthers, I’d rename us something with purpose, such as the Arizona Society of People Against Tiny Stupid Cars.