Vampz Macabre

by N. R. Larry

  “I need to see how bad it is,” he muttered, trying to remove her hands from the wound.

  Felicia shook her head, and I bit my lip, annoyed with myself for having been so bitchy to her earlier in the day. There was nothing like a woman showing up beaten down at your doorstep to make all the petty shit seem like just that: petty shit.

  “Felicia.” His voice was rougher the second time. “I need to see how bad it is if I’m going to help you.”

  I slid in beside them, craning my neck to get a better look. Felica went rigid, and then slowly loosened up, allowing Ryland to pry her hands away from her flesh. Blood gushed across the room, and Ryland quickly placed his hand back over the wound. “How long ago did this happen?” he growled.

  Felicia panted. “About, ten minutes.”

  Without a word, Ryland’s dark gaze darted over to me. I’d known him long enough to recognize the question in his eyes. “She should have healed by now.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Then why isn’t she?”

  I shook my head and focused my gaze back on Felicia. “Who attacked you?”

  “Another.” Hack. “Vampire.”

  Jingshi, but why would they attack another vampire? How would that impress the mother? “With a weapon?” I asked with a frown.

  She shrugged. “Happened from—behind. Didn’t... See.”

  I raked a hand through my hair. “Either it was a vampire bite from a much older vamp, or they used a weapon charged with magic.” I nodded as if trying to assure myself that my assessment was accurate. “A werewolf could have done this, but she would know if one attacked her just from the smell.”

  Felicia cried out. “Oh, lord!” She slid down in one of my cheap, kitchen chairs. “I’m gonna die, ain’t I? Shit! I’m gonna die!”

  I resisted the urge to make the obvious joke.

  “How can I stop this?” Ryland asked, almost leveling me with the intensity of his stare. For some reason, I was floored by it. I tried to think, but couldn’t pull my gaze away from his. At that moment, the only thing in my world was Ryland and that hypnotic stare. He snapped his fingers and I jumped. “Mal. Are you with me?”

  I blinked and shook my head to clear my thoughts. “Um...” I flipped through decades of supernatural knowledge. “The only thing that might work is your blood.” Tossing my hands up, I added, “Of course, that will only work if you’re older than the vampire that bit her.”

  He grunted. “And if it was as magical weapon?”

  I glanced at him and widened my eyes. “Just hope your blood works.”

  With a curt nod, he brought his free arm to his mouth. There was a tiny pop as his fangs extended, and then he bit into his own wrist. I cringed and had to force myself to remain still. Ryland might be a friend, but he was still one of the things I hunted. If I had to describe our relationship on a social media site, it would read: it’s complicated.

  Blood dripped against his full, bottom lip as he tilted Felicia’s head back and hung his arm over the gaping hole of her mouth. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she grabbed his forearm like a greedy baby and began suckling.

  Something hot rushed up my throat. I made a face. It seemed rude to be standing there while it was going on. Felicia started grunting and rocking her hips back and forth. Ryland slowly turned his head away from the scene and rested his gaze on me. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking because his expression was like stagnant water. However, the longer Felicia drank, the louder she moaned. I wanted to ask if she wanted to rip Ryland’s arm off and have some alone time with it.

  My gaze darted toward the ceiling and I shot off a quick prayer that the kids were asleep.

  Ryland’s eyes rolled back into his head and his jaw clenched. Finally, he tried to pull his arm away from Felicia. When she tugged back on it like it was a turkey leg and she was the hungriest pilgrim at the feast, he growled. “That’s enough, Felicia,” he said in a low voice.

  She was almost on her knees at that point. I lifted an eyebrow. Ryland stumbled forward and once again tried to pull his arm away. The scene was so bizarre that I barely noticed that Felicia’s wound had already closed.

  “Felicia!” His tone went from whisper to a thunder. Grabbing her by the hair, he yanked her back until her head was against the table. “I said, that’s enough.”

  The wound on his wrist slowly sealed up. I frowned because Ryland usually healed instantly. Felicia laughed and stared up at him with bright red eyes. “Mm, I like it rough baby. Pull my hair harder.”

  He growled down at her.

  “Ryland,” I hissed.

  He turned toward me, narrowed his eyes, and then let her go. Felicia sat up, laughing. “I forget you always listen to this human bitch.” She snorted. “Well, not human.” She licked her blood-stained lips. “But, if you’ll let me have a taste of her, I bet I can figure out what she is.”

  Now that she was no longer in danger of losing her second life, the ratchet ass bitch was back. I snorted and was about to reply when Ryland stepped in front of her. I couldn’t see his expression, but from the look of fear that crossed Felicia’s face, I had to guess he was doing some scary, vamp shit.

  “Sit your ass down.” He pointed at the chair she had just been bleeding all over.

  She did.

  “Now, tell me what the fuck happened.”

  Felicia’s gaze swept over to me, and then back up at Ryland. “Does she have to be here for this? It’s club business.”

  He only crossed his arms over his broad chest. Felicia sighed and then went into a long story, which I’m sure was dramatized for the sake of keeping as much attention on her for as long as possible. When she was finished, Ryland turned to me. “We need to have a look.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “We?”

  The black of his eyes flashed red, and he stared in such a way, that for a moment, I felt that I was in danger. “This attack might have something to do with what’s going on with Bao,” he told me, annoyed that he even had to say it out loud. “So, yes. We.”

  I lifted my hands in the air, a subtle reminder that we were on the same side, or maybe it was a hope, that he was still on my side. This was, after all, the vampire who started the famous, free black colony back during the Atlantic Slave trade. If he wanted, he could hand Bao over to the jingshi, and there might not be anything I could do about it.

  “Fine,” I said, my tone as even as I could manage. “Just let me go get Mom.”

  I, WITH MY GOLDEN BLADE holstered to my forearm, took to the skies and shot across The Heights, to the edge of town.

  As I darted downward toward Ryland’s Club, Blood N’ Fangs, I kind of snorted at the name. It was a bit on the nose, but as far as branding went, it worked. Ryland got people in the doors every weekend, and the money he made was put back into the neighborhood.

  For the most part.

  When I landed, the first thing I noticed was that the doors had been blown clean off. Narrowing my eyes, I stepped over the sprinklings of broken glass and crept inside.

  Ryland was in the middle of the room, wrists dripping in blood, and three writhing bodies at his feet. Vampires. They were shaking on the floor, suffering from massive wounds that were slowly sealing shut. The rest of the room was covered in rotten corpses, bodies that appeared to be dead for centuries.

  He turned toward me, his eyes red and blazing with anger. “Dead.”

  On my forearm, my blade began to buzz. “Ssh,” I told my mother, stepping toward him with caution.

  He shot toward me, a mask of rage contorting the handsome lines of his face. “All of them!” He jerked a hand toward the circle of survivors, turned back toward me, and grabbed me by the arms. I went tense, remaining as still as possible. “All of them,” he whispered. “Dead.” He closed his eyes, and then jerked his head to the left. A strangled grunt of pain rattled in his throat, momentarily sweeping my fear to the side.

  “You’re weak,” I muttered as I lowered him to the floor.

  Right away, he str
uggled against me. With a snarl, he pointed to the far wall. Just behind the bar, which was littered with shattered martini glasses and liquor bottles, was a symbol written on the mirror in blood.

  I recognized the graffiti right away. It was an anatomically correct human heart, only it was much narrower than it should have been. My heart shot off and I narrowed my eyes. It was the symbol of a rival vampire club The Heights hadn’t had a problem with in quite some time.

  “The Narrows,” I muttered, shaking my head, trying to make sense of what was happening. “Why would Dario do this?” I asked about the leader of the Hellions. “Is he fucking suicidal?”

  Ryland grunted and tried to regain his feet. My eyes widened. I had never seen him struggle like this. Not ever. I studied the wound on his wrist. It was closing even slower than it had in my kitchen. Gritting my teeth, I spat, “Damnit.” My gaze flickered to the surviving vampires still writhing on the ground. “You’ve lost too much blood healing them.”

  He licked his bottom lip and hissed. “I just need to feed.”

  “Your supply still in the same place?”

  Instead of answering, his eyelids fluttered closed and his head drooped to the side. Biting my lip, I glanced at his wrist again. It was still bubbling with blood. I moved his head to the floor and fished around in his pockets for the key to his office. As soon as my hand closed around it, I shot up into the air and to the third floor. I glanced down the hall and tried to ignore the corpses that were pinned to the walls, slowly falling apart, as if Dario had drowned them before wallpapering them to Ryland’s walls.

  The smell of sitting meat and damp earth made my eyes water, so I sucked in a breath and held it. My feet sloshed on the red carpet as I neared Ryland’s door. I forced myself to ignore the fact that I was traipsing through blood and vamp parts. Ryland’s door handle was blown off, so all I had to do was poke it open with a finger.

  I stepped inside and sighed. Every piece of furniture was turned over. Papers were tossed helter skelter all over the place, and there were more dead bodies pinned to the walls. Gritting my teeth, I rushed behind Ryland’s lavish desk, and his oversized, golden chair so I could get to the safe behind his desk.

  It didn’t appear to be tampered with, but my blade buzzed against my flesh, as it always did when it thought I might be in danger. Plus, the electric blue lines surging across the metal was an indicator that I should leave it alone.

  I unsheathed Mom and tip-toed closer. “Can you disrupt whatever magic this is?” I asked, and then tilted my head to listen. Narrowing my eyes, I said, “Don’t be such a racist. Ryland is a friend. I have to help him.” A few beats of silence passed and I snorted. “Yeah, I know I need sleep.” When she was quiet again, I pressed the golden tip of the blade to the silver surface of the safe. The blade turned silver as blue lightning shivered across its surface. I bit my lip, worried at first, and then the metal cooled, returning to its deep, sunshine hue, and the bolts of blue light fizzled out on both surfaces.

  With a nod, I said, “Thanks, Mom,” and placed the blade back in the holster. I quickly keyed in the security code and opened the safe.

  Empty.

  I cupped my hands into fists and almost punched the desk, but managed to hold back the urge. Ryland had already lost enough.

  Not only was his supply of blood gone, but so was his money. The money he not only used to pay his bills, but to donate to the schools so that these kids had a fighting chance against the privileged one percent. The only thing sitting in the safe was a carved-up heart.

  It was carved out, made to be narrow.

  It belonged to one of the many vampires Dario slaughtered in his clear call to war.

  Chapter Eight

  I took my time on the stairs, pausing with every other step, trying to get myself together. My stomach growled and I gripped the banister, trying to remember the last time I had something to eat. When I reached the bottom floor, the three vampires were huddled around Ryland. I blinked hard, convinced myself I wasn’t tired and trudged toward them.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Felicia hissed at me.

  Jaylen stepped in front of her and said, “Man, please don’t start on that bullshit.”

  Felicia glared her red eyes at me, then backed away.

  “Ay, fam,” Jaylen said, inching in close to me. He gave a pointed look at Ryland. “What’s wrong with him?”

  I sighed. “He needs blood.” I ran my hands through my curly hair, which was frizzing up more by the second due to the heat. “And his supply has been filched.”

  “What that mean?”

  I frowned. “Someone stole it.” I glanced sideways at Jaylen. “Can you give me a minute alone with him?”

  “Why?” Felicia asked, running her blood red nails through frost white hair.

  “He needs blood,” I repeated.

  The beauty mark planted at the corner of her mouth lowered when she frowned. “We can give him blood, as he did for us.”

  I shook my head. “No, it only worked for you because he is your maker. So, unless you know a vampire older than him...”

  “Felicia,” Ryland rasped from the floor. His gaze slowly switched to an almost midget like male with one blue eye, and one green eye. “Charles. She asked you to give us a minute.”

  Felicia hissed. “And?”

  At first, Ryland gave her nothing but silence. Then, he lifted ever so slightly and pinned her down in his gaze. “So. Her word is as good as mine.” He shot to his feet, and within seconds, had her gripped around the neck. “So, when she says get out. Get the fuck out.”

  He slumped over, obviously weakened in his current state, and yet, Felicia trembled in his bloodied hand. Even her hair seemed to lose its color. I cleared my throat, trying to ease into the roaring silence that followed his command.

  “Get upstairs,” I whispered to them, placing a hand on Ryland’s shoulder. He leaned back into me, and somehow, the movement didn’t make him seem any less powerful. “The bodies—” Forcing myself not to shudder, I swallowed bile, “—clear them out. I know Dario was responsible, but try to track a scent, I want to know exactly who was here.”

  A rumble rattled in Felicia’s throat. Narrowing my eyes, I shook my head at her. Without saying anything else, the three of them vanished from the room. Almost as soon as we were alone, Ryland allowed most of his weight to sink back into me. It was easy to hold him up, physically at least—mentally, well, that was something else. Briefly closing my eyes, I lowered us both atop the blanket of blood and broken glass.

  “How bad?” he muttered, closing his eyes.

  The tension in the lines of his face pulled at something in my gut. “Not that bad,” I said, turning my gaze away from him, unable to lie guilt free, even though he wasn’t looking at me.

  He growled, and even though I still wasn’t looking at him, I knew his lips had pulled back over his fangs. “Don’t bullshit me, Mal. How bad?”

  I sighed, pressed my palms into my eyelids, and then forced them wide open. “They got everything. Your blood supply. The money. Everything.” Something bitter burned in my throat. “Everything, and everyone.”

  His angular jaw clenched and he slammed a fist into the floor. Glass bounced away from our bodies and he left a jagged crack down the middle of the floor. “Help me get up,” he muttered. “I have to—”

  I shook my head, and then pressed my hand down on his chest. “Ryland, you need to feed.” My stomach twisted at the thought. I’d never let a vampire feed from me, not directly, but he was all out of blood bags.

  “I know, I have a girl... I can—”

  I gritted my teeth. “You can feed on me.”

  He chuckled, and the sound stroked something deep inside of me, something dark. “You don’t want to go down that road again.” His eyes slid open and he stared up at me, an edge of hunger and frustration twisting his features.

  My heart stumbled, then shot off, rocketing. He stirred in my arms and gritted his teeth. I could tell
by the set of his jaw—the tension in his movements, that my scent was scratching at his senses. I gathered his bloodied shirt between my fingers to steady myself. Memories teased me, nipping at my edges, shooting warmth down my center.

  He was right. I didn’t want to go down that road. Ryland hadn’t fed from me in some time, and still, I could feel the sink of his fangs in my flesh as if he had tasted me yesterday. Steeling my breath, I said, “I don’t have a choice.” With that, I swept my curly hair away from the hollow of my neck.

  His next words bit into me. “Of course you have a choice.” A blur of movement, then, we were face to face. “Don’t turn me into one of the animals you let your mother feed on.”

  My mouth gaped, and I blinked a few times, trying to ignore the way the room began to tilt. “No—I wasn’t—” I pressed my lips together. “I know the risks,” I hissed, anger shaking my voice. “Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t want to go down that road again.”

  Pressing his tongue up against his teeth, he tilted his head slowly and stared at me, red flashing in his eyes, off and on, off and on, like a warning. He leaned forward and took a slow sniff of me, then pressed two fingers against the pulse of my neck. “Hm.” He chuckled again. “Do you think it still happens?”

  His voice was so low I, with my enhanced ears, had to strain to hear. When I was sure I’d heard him correctly, I froze. “We’re older now,” I said, trying to tell myself I was being reasonable. “We both have more control over our powers.”

  He sniffed again, and this time, I detected a faint tremble. He was trying to hide how weak saving the rest of his crew had made him. That’s when it occurred to me that he might not want to feed from me—that he might not want to risk exposing himself like that to me again, not when he already felt so exposed in the first place.

  I clenched my jaw and slowly turned so that I was meeting his gaze. “Just do it,” I whispered. “Someone came into your hood.” I narrowed my eyes. “Into your territory.” I let myself smirk. “Are you just going to stand back and let that kind of shit go down?”