I Bite She Sucks

by Bloom, Penelope

  I nearly jumped out of my seat when someone knocked on my window. I looked to see Felix leaning down and motioning for me to unlock the door.

  I grudgingly let him in. He filled up the other half of my car like a lady in her forties trying to squeeze into her high school prom dress.

  "Since when are you working jobs again?" Felix asked. He bent his neck, making a show of looking around for some sign of what I might be trying to watch.

  "It's not a job. I was out for a drive and I decided to park here."

  "Mhm. Well, your random choice of parking has some of the rebels worried enough to ask me to ask you what's going on."

  That got my attention. The fucking rebels were asking about me? Did they have something to do with Sylvie? "The fact that you and the others are working with them is disgusting. You realize that, right?"

  Felix shrugged. "They're vamps, yeah. But it's not as simple as all vamps are bad. You wouldn't be so bitter if you could get that through your head."

  "Yeah, sure. These rebels of yours are fighting the good fight. They want what we want. For now," I added gravely. "What happens when we help them take out the vamps who don't agree with them? What happens when we make them the new bosses? You don't think they'll turn on us?"

  "I think the Pack trusts them. That used to be enough for you."

  "Yeah," I said. "Things change though, don't they?"

  Felix gave me a lingering look. "Yeah," he said finally. "They do."

  A few moments of silence passed, and it seemed to be enough to get Felix to give up the argument. "So what are you doing here. Really?"

  "I'm not interested in helping you be a good little bitch for the rebels. Tell them whatever you want about what I'm doing here. Or maybe they can come ask me themselves if they're so interested."

  He chuckled. "They've heard stories about you. I don't think any of them are going to come within a mile of this car, Riggs."

  "Then they're not completely braindead. I'll give them that."

  Night had come while we talked, and I saw a pale figure slink into view. He had his hood up, but I could practically smell it from here.

  Vamp.

  I felt the hairs on my arms stand on end. The wolf inside me stirred, growling with anger to mirror my own.

  Felix followed my eyes, grinning. "That's not one of the rebels. That's Coven."

  It was, and the asshole just walked into Sylvie's building. "You can finish my dinner," I said, tossing the wrap I'd forgotten about into his lap.

  I was out of the car and across the street just minutes after the vamp had gone up the stairs. I told myself it wasn't about her. It wasn't for some girl I barely knew, even if she had been the first woman to hit me in the head with a baseball bat. Twice.

  I grinned a little at that. I could respect her spunk without wanting to fuck her, obviously. And that was as far as I planned to let my interest go.

  Right now, this was about figuring out what the hell a vamp was doing lurking around two human women. That was all.

  7

  Sylvie

  I was neck deep in an erotic scene. Bosoms were heaving. Bodices had long since been ripped. The Duke had arrived in the very erect, very firm-assed flesh, and I was all sorts of hot and bothered.

  Of course, I was in my usual spot with my head leaned against the warm glass of the window. Gravy Boat was doing the thing he liked to do where he got just close enough for his whiskers to tickle my legs. He pretended to have no idea what I was swatting at him for when I lost my temper, like usual.

  I was flipping the page to find out if Countess Ray-Anne was going to let the Duke give it to her in the back door when Maisey cleared her throat.

  Given where my head was, the only natural thing to do was throw the book up in surprise, sit bolt-upright, and smile like I hadn't just been visualizing the dirty deed.

  "Oh," I said breathlessly. "I didn't hear you."

  "There's somebody I want you to meet, Sylvie. And... I'm going to warn you now, this is going to feel super weird and not make a whole lot of sense."

  I narrowed my eyes. Maisey had been taking later shifts at the yoga studios than she normally did for the last several weeks. In fact, some of them were well into the midnight hours, which I'd found suspicious, but she assured me was normal.

  I could feel my detective-quality brain quickly putting the pieces together.

  A boyfriend. She'd been out late because she was canoodling with a guy.

  I clapped my hands excitedly and rushed over to hug her. "Don't be crazy. I'm super happy that you decided to get some action. You deserve it."

  "Uh," Maisey said, hugging me briefly then pushing me back. "I did meet a guy. But it's more complicated than that. He's actually coming over in a few minutes, and I've honestly been trying to work up the courage or figure out how to even begin to explain this for weeks now. But I'm out of time, so here goes."

  I studied her. "Is he one of those new things the kids these days are doing? Polyamorous or whatever? A swinger? Or does he have a nose ring? Because hey, as long as he makes you happy, he's-"

  "He's a vampire, Sylvie."

  I waited for the inevitable moment when my sister would grin and let me know she'd been making a joke. Granted, it wasn't really a funny one. If she wanted to go for shock factor, it would've been funnier to say he was a traveling shoe salesman or something at least remotely believable.

  A few heartbeats passed and she was still stone-faced, just watching me for a reaction.

  "Do you mean he's a goth?" I asked. "One of those ones who gets two little bite marks tattooed on his neck and cosplays? Because that's cool. I've read plenty of vampire books so I can totally get behind the enthusiasm."

  Maisey carefully led me to the edge of the bed and sat me down. I was starting to get the feeling she was serious, but that didn't make any sense. My sister wasn't the practical joke type, so if she was serious...

  "Look, Sylvie, I haven't admitted how long I've been working on this because it's embarrassing. After we lost mom, I decided I couldn't go through that again. I said I'd do anything I possibly could to keep you here and make you healthy. Anything."

  "And I love you for it," I said. "But I'm not sure I see how this is connecting to the vampire boyfriend thing."

  "Because I found this book. It started in a weird online forum. I met this guy in a chatroom when I was looking into some pretty desperate corners for ways to make you better. He said there was a book that might have some answers for me."

  "And he just gave it to you? Or did you have to pay him?"

  "He, uh..." Maisey's cheeks went a deep red. My sister was not the blushing type. "He wanted pictures of my feet. Specifically of me stepping on mayonnaise packets? I figured it was harmless since he didn't have my face or my name." She waved off the barrage of questions I was about to ask with a wave of her hand. "That part isn't important, Sylvie."

  I wasn't sure I agreed, but I tried to expel that image from my brain and let her continue.

  "So we went back and forth and eventually he gave me the book. It was like an alternate history, almost. Except it was specifically about vampire history. At first, I was disappointed because I thought it was just some kind of made-up story. But I spent weeks cross-referencing it and found all sorts of obscure facts that lined up with the information in this book. But eventually, it led me to a place that used to be a vampire's home in Chicago. Now it's a bar, and that's how I met Steve."

  "Steve... Steve the vampire?"

  "Yes," she said, still patient as ever. "Steve showed me it's all real. But they aren't as bad as the stories. But he said it would fix you. If you turned, I mean."

  "Wait," I held up my hands. "Can you slow down for a second? I'm trying to process this and it's just not-"

  There was a loud sound from the hallway. I heard thumping, a muffled shout, then a low, terrifying growl.

  Maisey shot to her feet. "Steve," she whispered, rushing toward the door.

  I grabbed her a
rm to hold her back. "Hey! Don't go out there. We don't know what that was."

  The door burst open and a tall, thin man with his hood up stumbled in. He was bleeding heavily. "Run," he said weakly to Maisey.

  A pair of men appeared in the doorway behind him, yanking him back into the hallway. Maisey tried to follow after him, but I barely managed to pull her back.

  A large man with long, silver hair stepped into the room. He wore a sleek black suit and had pale gray eyes. He immediately reminded me of Lucian Malfoy from Harry Potter, which gave me an instant bad taste in my mouth.

  "Well," he said in an American accent, which slightly dulled the Lucian impression. "Steve really has caused quite the mess, hasn't he?"

  "Who are you?" Maisey demanded.

  "My name is Lazarus, and I'm what's called a cleaner. When our kind make mutts like you," he pointed to Maisey, and the coldness contained in the gesture made my blood feel like it was icing over. "They send me to clean up the mess."

  "I don't know what you're talking about." Maisey said, but even I could tell she was lying.

  The man approached us, then sniffed deeply right next to my sister's face. He pulled back with a satisfied grin. "Then let me pretend you're not lying to my face. Our mutual friend, Steve, initiated the process of turning you into one of our kind. Steve did not possess authorization from the Coven to do this. That makes you a soon-to-be unwelcome addition to our ranks." With a shrug that looked like it was meant to be between friends, he winked. "I'm sure you can see why we can't allow that."

  "What are you saying?" I asked.

  He regarded me then, as if noticing me for the first time. I felt my spine stiffen under his gaze.

  I distantly noticed more commotion in the hallway, which I assumed was Steve putting up a fight against the two men who'd grabbed him. I couldn't be certain, though. Steve didn't look like he was in any condition to put up a fight, but I definitely could hear bodies slamming around against the walls and the sounds of a struggle.

  Lazarus half-turned toward the hall, nostrils twitching. The corner of his mouth pulled up like he'd just tasted something bad. "A werewolf?" he asked under his breath. He turned to regard us again with a new, more intense look on his face. "Were you working with the rebels?"

  Werewolf? Part of me still felt like I was in the middle of some dorky cosplay event gone wrong. I halfway expected him to start yelling "fireball" and tossing little felt fireball cutouts from his pocket at me any minute. But I knew my sister better than anyone. If she believed something, I believed it. And I could still see the image of the bloodied man who had just stumbled into our apartment.

  It was all in front of my eyes, but my brain still couldn't grab on. It felt like being pushed down an icy hill and trying to find a handhold. Everything was moving so fast and I couldn't slow down enough to get my bearings.

  Lazarus loomed over us, and I couldn't say how, but I was sure he was deciding if he was going to kill us or not. I felt it in my bones.

  I tried to swallow, but my mouth was completely dry.

  Maisey inched in front of me. "Leave my sister out of this. She's still completely human."

  Lazarus frowned, and I saw his ears must've been picking up something from the hallway outside I couldn't make out. Then a wicked smile appeared on his face. "You're both human," he said, a little louder than he'd been talking before. "But the Coven has decided to extend my jurisdiction to those who fraternize with dissenters. You have one month to run. If you survive it, we'll call off the hunt. Until we meet again, humans," he added.

  I expected him to head for the hallway, but he went to my window, pulled it open, and leapt out.

  I felt my breath catch. It was three stories down from here. Far enough that he'd surely die from the fall.

  I briefly clutched onto the idea that he'd been mentally unstable, and I was about to look out to see his broken body on the street. I rushed to the window and looked down, but only saw the normal flow of traffic and pedestrians along the street. There was no sign of him.

  As if my rapidly beating heart needed any more reason to explode, I heard heavy footsteps thump into the doorway again.

  8

  Sylvie

  I was clutching a pillow in front of myself so hard that my fingertips hurt. I wasn't sure what level of protection I expected a floral print pillow that Gravy Boat had snagged to hell and back, but I held the thing like a shield.

  My heart hadn't pounded this hard in my entire life, and I wasn't sure what I would do when a small army of vampires came hissing and clawing their way in through the door.

  Instead, a massive, tanned man with an open coat, bare chest, and no shoes was standing in the doorway to our bedroom. His muscular torso was dusted with dark hair.

  His hair was the color of creamy coffee, just like his eyes. They were piercing eyes, and my fogged brain remembered I'd seen this same guy just a few days ago. He'd been the one to remove the creep from my doorstep and call me an idiot for my paper airplane love note.

  He looked over us and his eyes narrowed into gorgeous little slits. He let out a sound almost like a growl and seemed to be hesitating about something.

  “Come,” he said in a chocolatey smooth, deep voice.

  “Who are you?” Maisey demanded.

  “I'm Riggs. And I'm the only fucker who doesn’t want to remove your pretty little heads from your bodies right now.”

  “How do we know we can trust you?” I asked. "And why do you keep showing up in my apartment? Are you stalking me?"

  “If I wanted to hurt you, I’d do it. I wouldn’t waste my breath playing tricks. So get the fuck over here and follow me or you can sit here until Lazarus and his crew come for you. It’s your call.”

  Maisey and I exchanged a silent look, then we both nodded at each other. I don’t think we were thrilled about our options, but the gorgeous, half-naked man was making at least a decent point.

  We got off the bed and I started to grab some of my things. A firm hand took me by the wrist. “No,” he said, eyes blazing. “There’s no time to take your things. We go now in one piece, or you can leave later in two.”

  I swallowed, wishing I could hold his gaze without having to look at the floor like some kind of child. But God, I’d never seen anyone with even a fraction of his intensity. It was like standing next to a roaring bonfire. I could feel the power washing over me even from several feet away.

  I tried to pull my hand from his grip, but he was frighteningly strong. That, or I was incredibly weak. Unfortunately, I feared the latter was probably more likely. “Are you going to hold my hand or are we going to go?” I snapped.

  The man was looking at me so strangely that I felt like blushing or slapping him. I wasn’t sure which. The intensity on his face melted long enough for him to smirk. "You going to hit me with a baseball bat if I don't stop holding your hand?"

  "You realize you're not wearing shoes, right?"

  He grunted but didn't seem to think he needed to explain his bizarre outfit. He kept hold of my hand, dragging me toward the door.

  "You two may want to cover your eyes if you're squeamish," he said, glancing at something to his right."

  "Oh my God," Maisey said. "Steve."

  My sister went toward the slumped body by the wall. Blood was smeared all over the walls. There were two more still forms lying face down not far from Steve. One had a series of four long gashes going down his back that split his suit. Almost like a swipe from a large claw.

  I tried to shake that thought from my head, but I knew the image was going to haunt me.

  With supreme bad timing, my cute neighbor opened his door. He had his motorcycle jacket on like he was about to leave, but then he spotted the three of us and the three additional bodies.

  "Holy shit. What happened?"

  Riggs jabbed a finger toward him, speaking in a low, terrifying voice. "Inside. Now."

  I'd taken my cute neighbor for a tough guy, but I didn't fault him for immediately ducking
inside and slamming the door. Riggs was terrifying. He was huge, too.

  "Leave him," Riggs said to my sister. "They're vamps. They aren't really dead as long as their heads are attached."

  "What?"

  "They are going to wake up," he repeated to me, clearly impatient at having to keep explaining himself. "The cleaners will come back to finish the job on Steve, but these others..." Riggs trailed off.

  Maisey was kneeling and trying to prop Steve, who was probably twice her size, over her shoulders.

  "Put him the fuck down," Riggs said. "He's a vamp, and I'm not bringing a vamp in my truck."

  "You said they'll come back for him," she said, straining under his weight. "I'm not leaving him to die. Are you insane?"

  Riggs moved toward her, probably to rip Steve from her shoulders if his posture was any indication. I didn't know what came over me, but I reached out and grabbed his thick arm with two hands, stopping him.

  He looked down at my hands, then at me.

  "Please," I said. "She's not going to come without him. And I won't come without her."

  I could see his jaw flexing in annoyance, but he finally let out a low sound in his throat. "Fine. But I'm not carrying that asshole."

  Maisey didn't complain and waved off my offer to help as we went down the stairs. Thankfully, my sister was serious about her fitness, and she seemed to take carrying Steve as a sort of personal challenge. That, or she considered it a "fuck you" to Riggs, who probably hadn't thought she'd be able to manage to get him outside.

  Riggs pulled out a cell phone as we were going down the stairs and called someone. “Yeah. Meet me at the bar. Five minutes.”

  He hung up the phone, then took us outside to where a beat-up truck was waiting with the engine running and the door still hanging open.