Ten, p.4
Ten, page 4
The vampire scowled as she continued to hover over the grainy image of a very hairy gentleman in white greasepaint and glow in the dark plastic fangs. Finally, he sighed, “Woefully inaccurate.”
Georgia lingered for a second longer. “So, you’re over two-hundred and watching something called jackrabbit porn, and you find a sword in a stone ridiculous?” she asked.
“There were no rabbits,” he complained before chugging the rest of his blood. “And a sword in a stone is pure poppycock. I’ve seen Excalibur, and the only thing it’s ever been jabbed into was a Christmas pudding when my father drank too many drunks—”
“You’ve seen Excalibur? Why didn’t you tell me this?” Georgia asked.
“It’s just the family sword—”
“And you didn’t think to tell me? We’ve been watching every vodcast—”
“I don’t know why my parents allow those ridiculous stories to continue, but it’s probably like the professor was saying; it’s a metaphor of the chosen one needing to partake of an impossible task to be worthy. However, the day I see any self-respecting vampire yanking a sword from a rock, I will promptly eat my swanky silken knickers!”
Georgia stifled a laugh as she queued up the classical musical version of Camelot. “Did your grandfather look like Richard Harris?”
She asked as she wandered off to get more blood and a pack of crackers.
“You know, I’ve only ever heard one eyewitness description of Arthur,” Mr. Lambley said as he waggled his pudgy little fingers in anticipation of his next cordial. “He usually was seen in armor and a mask by day. He’s the reason our family has such a weakness in the sun, you know—”
“Ancient sunscreen?”
Another round of type-O disappeared in seconds. She only poured in one more half a glass, prompting an epic undead pout.
“The first Lady Jaeger described seeing him once, leading a charge against a particularly unruly pack of Goths—”
Georgia stifled a giggle. “Goths fighting vampires,” she said, between snorts. The vampire eyed his assistant’s empty wine glass.
“Well yes, they were apparently hideous people who were murdering and raping everything that moved for a ten-mile radius of the Jaeger lands. She described a giant among men—”
“And coming from her, wow,” Georgia interrupted. She lowered her eyes apologetically and shoved a cracker in her mouth. “Carry on,” she muttered between munches.
“He was like a god. She never saw his face, but his body was covered in thick, rust-colored paint and the blood of Goths.” He waited for the giggle but was rewarded only with more crunching and eager puppy-eyes. “He had emerald green eyes that burned even in the darkest night.”
“Well, you have at least one family trait,” Georgia said before settling next to him on the couch as the overture began. “You know, for the rarest human eye color on earth, it seems to be pretty damn common among vampires.”
“Oh, I have more in common!” the vampire proclaimed proudly.
He flipped a wayward orange lock with as much panache a man in a smoking jacket and jeggings could muster. “Like most great warriors of the north, the legendary King Arthur was known for his magnificent red mane!”
Georgia slumped against the sofa and buried her face in her hands. “You’re telling me that King Arthur was… a ginger?” she asked.
“What can I say, many great men of history were, but for some reason they like to show Arthur as either ridiculous and blond or brunet and broody. Mark my words, one day there will be a proper version of my grandfather’s tale on the silver screen, and they will find a dashing beast of a redhead to play him!”
Georgia cracked her neck and settled into full-on deep couch sitting. Soon she had her legs swung over the arm and had turned her vampire boss into a makeshift pillow as they watched the grand Technicolor sets. Richard Harris’s dulcet tones quickly drowned out their slurping and crunching. Both hummed the familiar refrain of Camelot and sighed at the sweet descriptions of a land without April Fools’ blizzards, dirt, grime, and rainy days.
“You know, it actually rains most days at Pendragon castle,” the vampire noted. “Cool, rainy, and gray is a normal English summer.”
“Is it beautiful?” she asked after the lull in songs.
“It’s not California. It’s not even New England,” the vampire snorted. “But there is a certain beauty that only comes with age—”
“Do you have any idea how much that sounds like a pickup line coming from a vampire?”
Both flopped their heads against the back of the sofa and burst into giggles. They watched the movie enraptured, until Franco Nero finally sauntered on screen. Georgia took the entrance of Lancelot as her cue to run to the kitchen and rustle up dessert. Just as the
vampire began grumbling audibly, his assistant let out a sing-song, “I made you something special.”
Mr. Lambley ran from the dubbed singing with a scowl still firmly planted on his face. His scowl turned to genuine confusion as he saw a set of suspiciously domed molds right in front of his young assistant’s own assets. Georgia waved the vampire aside and proceeded to grab a bunch of sauces and garnishes from the fridge.
He cocked his head as she slid two little paper trays onto their kitchen table.
“So, you know how I’ve been working on my pastry?” she asked as she purposefully slid between her boss and the table, using her back to block any view of the magic hidden in the pink silicone molds.
“Fat lot of good it does me,” the vampire grumbled. “It’s full of cellulose and heartache… or is it more properly known as heartburn?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking and, well, practicing,” she said as she sprinkled a tan powder on the side of one of the little trays. She looked over her shoulder and gave a little wink before easing something wiggly and jiggly out of the mold. “There is no reason why you should be left out of all the fun, Mr. Lambley. Ren sent me pictures from Tokyo and New York of all the amazing confections the Japanese want to spring on the unsuspecting populace—”
“Oh dear, you aren’t trying to seduce me with one of those curry donuts that you go on and on about—”
“Curry donuts are an absolute good. I won’t tolerate you mocking them!” she said as she squirted a thick black syrup onto her dessert.
“No, this is something far more magical. Allow me to introduce you to the mizu shingen mochi, vampire style.”
She swept the tray into her arms and twirled around proudly. The bright red bubble of goo bobbled and glistened. As it jiggled, her boss’s eyes began to shimmer and wobble as well.
“I suppose it would technically be a chi hitoshizuku mochi, if my Google-translated Japanese serves me well. It’s a blood drop cake!”
she giggled. “On the side you have toasted cricket flour and—”
Mr. Lambley all but buried his nose into the quivering mound of sanguine pudding. “Type-O jelly with a… with a—”
“Bear liver and honey syrup,” Georgia said quickly. “Your mother said that you were addicted to it when you went to Calgary—”
“It’s one of the few pleasant memories I have with my mewling little brother,” Mister Lambley said, still transfixed by the confection.
He tentatively reached for it, but Georgia swept it away. “One second, I need to make mine.”
“You want human blood, crickets, and bear paste all of a sudden?” he asked timidly.
“No, mine is more traditional with molasses and some toasted soy flour. I did use pomegranate molasses at least, so I could have some sticky, red, goopy fun.”
“But the gelatin! Miss Sutherland—”
She burst into a huge grin and handed him a pearl-handled spoon. He squealed with delight as she carried dessert back to the TV tables just in time for Lancelot to be off screen.
“Uh-uh, my undead companion,” she said with another little wink.
“Yours might be made with the boiled down bones of baby cows, but my sugary little blob is made with agar-agar. The only thing that died for my raindrop was a handful of kelp. . . and possibly the soul of a hipster chef. I hear that these are going to be bigger than cronuts this year.”
The vampire plopped back on the sofa and salivated as she slid one of the metal TV trays in front of him. A second later, he plunged his spoon into the quaking mass and dove in with the ferocity of any small child. His green eyes soon sparkled with more than the reflection of the television. He waited intently as Georgia plowed her own spoon into her clear drop of “cake”.
“It looks like I’m dissecting a porn star,” she gasped as she swirled the red molasses into her collapsed dessert implant. She slid the goo into her mouth and sloshed it around a few times before bursting with laughter. “That is so damn weird!” she cried.
“It’s wonderful!” the vampire cooed. “It’s the greatest confection since Higgins’ pig’s blood chocolate—”
“It’s like I have a cold in a candy factory, and even my snot has gone sweet—”
“—Heaven has entered my mouth, young lady.”
“Is this what Jell-O is really like? No wonder people only eat it when they are sick!”
The vampire continued to slurp down his bloody mess of a plate, eventually tipping the tray to suck down every last drop. Georgia leaned back and smiled at the sated vampire rubbing his belly.
“You know, this is so delicious, I can even tolerate Mordred not being disemboweled at the end of this movie,” the vampire sighed contently. “Thank you, Miss—”
“Mr. Lambley?” Georgia said quickly as her boss stopped suddenly and pressed his pudgy little fingers to his lips. “Mr.
Lambley?”
“Oh, my,” he choked out as he pulled down his lower lip.
Georgia’s eyes widened as she saw two new white buds poking through his lower gums and two fully formed fangs now filling out his upper jaw.
“Oh, my indeed,” she whispered.
“Mere mortal man does not deserve us,” Toy said, as she leaned in to the mirror to check for any lipstick on her teeth. Next to her, Paige burst into giggles as she tucked one last pin into her bright blonde wig of stick straight hair.
“As if we were looking for mere mortals,” Nadia said dryly as she fluffed her own fake bob of platinum blonde. The two shorter girls stared and sighed as the lanky Russian’s body shifted and expanded to fill out her hot-pink zebra striped dress. After a few deep breaths, her normally athletic frame seemed more reminiscent of an adult film star.
“Why is it that I get a tail, and you can do that?” Paige sighed as she stared at her still rather unimpressive assets tucked into a white button-down. She rubbed the secondary ridge crawling up her spine
but had to smile as her short plaid shirt highlighted her runner’s legs and bubble bottom.
Toy looked both white girls up and down and rolled her eyes. She too had chosen a blonde wig for the evening but opted for skintight jeans and a well-stuffed tank top. “Oh, come on, MP,” Toy said with an exaggerated wink. “It doesn’t matter if you can summon magic titties, if you have a vajayjay that brings bloodsuckers and howlers to their knees. . . frequently. Now, me, I have to settle for being better looking than both of you bitches, but I can live with that.”
All three of them burst into laughter, as they finished their primping. As they slipped out of the bathroom, they noticed a pair of redheads lounging on the sofa. The freckle-faced girl tapped her smart watch and sighed. “We have timelines, you know,” she grumbled.
The redheaded guy next to her rolled his eyes. “Don’t mind my baby sister,” he sighed. “It’s almost her time of the month.”
“I’m two minutes older than you, prick,” Kayleigh snapped. She sized up the trio of club bait. “He’s so going to hit up the short-stuff.
All the other girls were under five-two.”
Toy pointed proudly at her chest. “I knew it!”
“I meant, Paige,” Kayleigh growled. “She’s more his type.”
“Yeah, we are talking about a rural Southern landowner who was turned into a vampire sometime between the first act of Gone with the Wind and his Lincoln’s assassination anniversary party,” Kyle added.
“I read the memo,” Toy said as she grabbed her coat.
“That’s a first,” Nadia, Paige, and Kyle all said at once. Kayleigh just pulled out her phone and scrolled through her updates.
“There’s an accident on Union. It’s going to be a long drive, so can we just get moving?” Kayleigh growled.
“We’re gonna get going, Freckles,” Toy snapped. “You can’t rush perfection, OK?”
Nadia turned to Paige and rested a manicured hand on the smaller woman’s shoulder. “Are you sure that you’re up to this?” she asked, her face suddenly concerned.
Paige nodded. “It’s all been leading up to this, right?” she asked.
“Meth labs. . . dead prostitutes. . . and now apparently, he’s a total racist asshole.”
Nadia nodded slowly. “All you have to do is lure him away from the public, Paige,” she said softly. “I can handle the rest.”
“I’m sure you can. Now let’s get moving.”
Kayleigh popped on a jaunty black hat and gloves, as she led them out the door. All the gals gawked as a shiny limousine awaited them in the cul-de-sac. The female twin popped into the driver’s seat, while the other four piled into the back.
“Best case scenario is to get fangs into the back,” Toy said as she surveyed the freshly stain-guarded seats and plastic floor mats. “Just remember that once you’re out of the human-stink filled club, he’s gonna start to feel really uneasy, really fast, Shorty Spice—”
“I know,” Paige snapped. “I’ve been working with Billy and Morgan—”
“More Morgan by the smell of things,” Kyle chimed in.
She punched the ginger on the shoulder. “Hey!” she barked.
“Even with their training, you are still more pungent than your average werewolf, Paige,” Nadia said as diplomatically as she could.
“While it makes you more charismatic and attractive, we don’t know what sort of affect it will have with vampires other—”
“Hey, it worked on Grandpa,” Kyle added.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the backseat until a happy little beep sounded from Toy’s phone. Her big brown eyes lit up, and she giggled. “Guess who else is hitting up 152 tonight?”
Paige blanched for a second. “The guys aren’t—”
Toy shook her head. “You still haven’t told the Morginator what shenanigans you are up to, have you?” she asked. “Damn girl, I do not want to be you when he finds out that you are going all Buffy in your spare time—”
“It’s not like he doesn’t know, Toy. We just don’t talk about it. . .
out loud.”
“It doesn’t matter, Shorty. Bernard, Wesley, and your man muffin are tucked safely away with their new buddies at the comic shop playing Dungeons and Dragons and eating pizza, lots of pizza.”
Paige breathed a sigh of relief. Nadia, on the other hand, leaned forward and raised a brow at Toy. “So, who else is hitting up the club on the one night we decide to get rid of a rogue bloodsucker, LaToya?” she asked.
“There’s been chatter from some of my cop friends back home about sudden cargo shipments moving from the west to the east.
Some drugs, some guns, the usual bad shit, but then Billy and I started looking into some weird other—”
“You and Billy, huh?” Nadia asked.
Toy gave a slight sideways glance to Paige. “We were following up on some of the notes we found over at Morgan’s—”
“What!” Paige snapped. “You’re working with Morgan—”
“Glass houses, Shorty Spice, glass houses,” Toy admonished.
“Well, Billy was having trouble with his businesses outside of Colorado, and when he cross-referenced some of his names—”
“Toy!” Nadia and Paige both exclaimed.
“Well, it turns out that there are a lot of vampires funded by dealing drugs,” Toy replied.
“Grandpa is not going to like that,” Kyle muttered.
“Are you kidding me, Kyle?” Toy asked. “Rumor has it that it’s all tied back to someone who calls himself Lord Pendragon.”
“That is ridiculous!” Kyle snapped. “You know that Grandpa hates the drug trade—”
“Oh, grow up, Prissy Pants! Show me a vampire who isn’t into something dirty—”
“Both of you shut up!” Paige growled. The moment the words left her lips, the backseat crew fell silent. “Now tell me what is going on tonight, Toy.”
“Billy and Sammy are going to be downtown tonight. Billy is trying to get a positive ID by buying just a teensy bit of blow, and I may have agreed to go out with a narc who’s been hitting on me for weeks just to get him off the scent.”
“Are you honestly telling me that two of our pack are sneaking off to do some sort of drug deal to possibly implicate other vampires, maybe even our boss, while we are trying to quietly get rid of another
vampire that we have been harassing and destabilizing for weeks?”
Nadia asked. “Toy! Why didn’t you warn us?”
“Well it looks like Ku Klux Klanpire won’t have any interest in me, so I’ll keep the boys safe, while you and Shorty Spice seal the deal,”
Toy said. “Relax B, I want to see what shit is going down more than anyone, and I’d really like to find out that there is some scumbag messing with your grandpa’s good name, Wonder Twin.”
“Grandpa was just in town three days ago,” Kyle sighed.
“Yeah, and three days ago was exactly when this deal went down,” Toy added. “You may be his favorite whipping boy, but even you have to know when something stinks.”
Paige stared into the tinted window. Instead of watching the traffic or the people, she stared into a pair of concerned green eyes in the reflection as her left hand slid into her clutch and pulled out her phone. She could feel her fingers sliding over the screen, sliding from letter to letter on the virtual keyboard, but her phantom in the reflection didn’t seem inclined to pull out the device and show her what her hijacked limb was up to. The rest of her pack growled and barked about details until Paige finally snapped her eyes back to the crowd, and she let out a singularly dismissive snarl.
