Rogue Vampires - Vampires Aren't Real Part 6

"Some kinds of magic work for a reason. Doesn't matter what they come across looking like. And shut up. Warren takes care of Dusty and me both. He's head of the household, and okay, he might be kinda stiff --"

Vlad snickered.

"Shut up," I mumbled, crossing my arms over my bare knees and sinking my chin down to rest on them. "They were great humans. Now you're turning them into undead zombies. Forgive me if I don't applaud."

"Mmm. I wonder... I don't know if it's ever been tried before, but I'm all curious now to see what happens when a werewolf is drained and fed vampire blood." Vlad spoke so casually he sent icicles p.r.i.c.kling down my back. He picked at his nails with the hook of his knife, cleaning underneath and prodding the cuticles into neat and tidy shape. "Would my blood poison you, or would I be the inventor of a new vampwolf hybrid? I could sell you furry, bloodthirsty beasts to the government -- don't fool yourself, they know all about us -- and make a fortune. I am pretty sure you'd croak, though, and I don't feel like keeping you around long enough to see if you turned. I can always catch another doggie later."

Oh, G.o.d. He could too, I knew it. Vamps and weres hated each other, sure, but up until now no one had been crazy enough to play mad scientist. Vlad would do it without blinking and with a lunatic smile.

"So, I have two delicious new pets to play with, and one annoying pooch. What to do, what to do?" He held his knife up to let the single stream of moonlight gleam over its edge. "I think I'll have some fun." With a fast, fluid motion he sheathed the dagger. "Not with this. Not yet. See, I have a few things you need to know before I put you down, dog."

He leaned in close enough for even a human nose to pick up the stench of decay he wore like cologne gone bad and pointed at golden Dusty and military mighty Warren. "You're right. They are special, both of them. Hot s.h.i.t on a silver platter. Which you can't touch. Silver or the men. Special guys with big, soft hearts. Way too nice for their own good."

"Meaning what?"

"Don't be dense." Vlad slapped my cheek, then grabbed my chin and forced me to face what remained of my lovers, still dangling in their d.a.m.ned waltz move while the silver smoldered on me. "Look at them. They're the ideal of male beauty and virility. Young, strong, handsome as Heston in his heyday. Why do you think they took up with a chubby lump like you who doesn't even have a pretty face? Why do you think they stuck around? You must put out like a ten-dollar hooker. So many memories of s.e.x in their minds. Delicious. Their favorite memories didn't include you, you know, minus being annoyed when you were around to get in the way of f.u.c.king one-on-one. All they really wanted was to be left alone, but you never did take the hint."

"You're lying." My voice shook. I knew he was trying to either make me rise to the bait or break me down, and I was trying to stand strong, but... I'd wondered the same thing sometimes. Thought I might be a third wheel. Knew I was a girl next door, overweight, short, and nowhere near the same league of perfection my guys had reached with ease. "Stop."

"Gospel truth, Rover. They wish you would go away and leave them alone. The only reason they never said anything was because they felt sorry for you. You should have heard the gripe sessions where they came up with ways to drive you off. Mmm-mmm. They had some good seeds of cruelty in them, and now that they're mine I'm going to make their gardens grow. They didn't want you before, and now they'll only be interested in you for dinner."

I found an ace in my deck. "If you sic two vamps on a were, you'll start a war. The pack brothers, pack sisters and Alphas are going to come after your a.s.s."

"I know." He took on a dreamy expression. "So much blood. So many suits of silver chain mail already stored in my bas.e.m.e.nt. We'll beat you down so easily the rest of the world's vampires will call us kings and follow my lead. My guesstimate is that inside of one year there won't be any four-footed furry pains in the a.s.s left at all."

He seemed to be forgetting the weres who weren't bothered by silver. Not that I didn't figure he had a plan for them too. My wrath and terror were choking out thoughts of allies and rebellion. Vlad was planning total genocide, and there wasn't a d.a.m.n thing I could do to stop him.

Unless I could manage to get past the pain and go for his face, the only part of him not covered in silver. Fingernails first, then a shift into wolf form to finish the job.

"Don't even try," Vlad drawled. He stuck his hand into the front pocket of his jeans, fished around and came out with something fit to make my own blood run cold: a silver collar studded with vicious spikes. "I changed my mind again. I think, now, that you're going to be my living proof."

"No. No way."

"Try and stop me." He grabbed a handful of my hair, dragged my head down, and clicked the collar onto my throat faster than I could react. I didn't scream. I can be proud of that.

I did feel like he'd just wrapped a strip of molten lava around my neck. The pressure cut off my oxygen, leaving me struggling for short gasps, and with air went strength and energy. I slumped, boneless, too weak to even try to tug off the collar no matter what it would do to my fingers.

Vlad was tickled beyond tickled. He petted my shoulder roughly as you'd rub an old hound's head, nudged my a.s.s completely into the broken circle, and checked me out. "I can sense your pain. It's wonderful, and it was so easy. I'll just add some more silver dust to keep you locked up safe and sound, and I'll let you watch me train my new recruits. They're going to be stars, Fido, and they'll never even remember you existed. Not that they should have in the first place, fata.s.s." He prodded the plump curves of my a.s.s with a toe and a disdainful sniff. "You know what they say about chunky b.i.t.c.hes, right?"

"Usually, I say I like big b.u.t.ts, and I cannot lie."

What?

"What?" Vlad echoed, pivoting on his heel -- right into the path of Dusty's fist. Smoosh-crunch, and oh, h.e.l.l, yeah!

"Whoooo! Get 'im, Dusty!"

My gray skies cleared right on up because Mr. Sunshine himself had slipped his own leash and was back in action. He didn't stop at one pop to the nose, either. He rocked and socked Vlad across the cellar to the far wall and finished up with a kick in the nuts vicious enough to make a eunuch buckle and cry for momma.

He sang all the way too, and I joined in where I remembered the words, pumping my fist in the air, silver collar be d.a.m.ned: "I like big b.u.t.ts and I cannot lie! You other brothers can't deny! You get sprung, wanna pull up tough, 'cuz you notice that b.u.t.t was stuffed!"

My hero. He was so in for unlimited b.l.o.w. .j.o.bs and d.i.l.d.o f.u.c.ks when he got us out of here, and let me tell you, I didn't doubt for a second he would. Dusty, my soft and cuddly bear. Who'd have thunk it?

I don't think either of us counted on Vlad coming back from the gelding-worthy knock to his nuts.

He did crumple, sure, but only halfway, and when he came back up I saw his true face. G.o.d only knew how old he was. Vamps look pretty human up to five hundred years, give or take a century, but it's all downhill from there and if they don't have a knack for glamour the geezers are hideous. Vlad looked like he'd felt, dry parchment skin stretched painfully thin over bones, his hair falling out in straw-like clumps. He'd extended the glamour to his clothes and his chain mail, too, and now that it was gone his GQ had gone ghastly, rags and tatters. The chain mail hung on him like a shawl, far too big, as well as tarnished black and full of gaping holes. He reeked of open tombs.

"Nice try," he said, voice reed-thin and wet-cat vicious. "You're paying for this, slave, with both your b.a.l.l.s. I can still f.u.c.k your hole and I don't give a d.a.m.n if you can't come. I'll cut 'em off and toss them in the silver circle with Rover until she gets desperate enough to chow down."

Dusty drew back, wrinkling his nose. "Eww."

"You think I can't?" Vlad drew power back into himself with a visible effort and disguised himself as young and strong again. We knew it was all a lie, but he went there anyway. Vanity. "You have no idea what I'm capable of, slave. Get down on your knees and worship me."

Dusty c.o.c.ked his head, genuinely puzzled. "Why?"

I stifled a laugh behind my hand. Vlad, Vlad, Vlad... he might have gotten to Dusty at first, but nature trumps nurture every time.

"Why?" Vlad boggled. He grabbed Dusty's ears and twisted. Girly move, huh? "I told you, on your knees!"

"How are you going to cut my b.a.l.l.s off if I'm down here and you're up there?"

"Same way I'm slicing off your tongue." Vlad's knife came back out. "I use silver because it's the best for werewolves, but it'll work just fine for clipping your wings. You're mine, brat, you and the soldier and your little dog too."

"Guess again."

I recognized Warren's voice just as I saw the spear of a broken rum barrel plunge through a hole in the back of Vlad's tattered armor and out through his breastbone, bull's-eye in the heart. Vlad had just enough time to look down, grasp the makeshift stake with a look of total disbelief, and then --poof. A cloud of ashes burst open and drifted to the cellar floor.

"Turnabout is fair play, and payback's a b.i.t.c.h," Warren murmured. Then he looked up at me and Dusty. "It's over. Come here, would you?"

Dusty cannonballed into Warren's arms, hugging him tight. I willed away the weakness from Vlad's silver collar and stumbled to Warren fast as I could, flinging myself against his broad chest. I hung on for dear life, shocked at how it had all happened so fast and wanting to kiss him blind and stupid for saving all of our lives. Dusty too.

"Here, Gilly. Let me help." Dusty gently undid the latch on my collar and lifted it away. "Oh, G.o.d, your neck. It's all burned."

I could breathe so much better without the choker on. "It's okay, doll. Just an allergic reaction. I'll heal."

"We're putting aloe vera on there when we get home."

Home. There really is no place like home. "Sounds like the best idea yet," I said, giving Dusty a good hard squeeze, and went a few steps further to kiss both my men, good, hard, raunchy kisses with thrusting tongues and nibbling teeth and swelling lips. From the way they groped my a.s.s and kneaded my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, I knew for sure Vlad had been lying. He'd almost f.u.c.ked me around into believing his vicious slams.

Up yours, ash-boy, I thought as Warren swung me into a cla.s.sic screen kiss and Dusty cupped me from behind. Both were hard enough to need immediate relief, hardons developed while we kissed, and doesn't that make a gal feel really good about herself?

We were gonna rock our apartment inside-out that night, and it would be a long, long time before I ever suggested clubbing again. I had my men back, and they were all I needed.

So they weren't breathing. So their hearts weren't beating. So they were vampires. No one had ever pulled off this kind of menage a trois before, but Dusty and Warren were worth a shot.

I'd deal with the fallout when it showered down.

"Warren, Dusty, I --" I started, only to stop when I heard sneakered footsteps thumping above, approaching the door to the stairwell. The person approaching opened it from the outside, lamplight streaming in and making us squint, but I spotted and recognized our new visitor first. "Dmitri?"

"Who?"

"The bartender from DD's Ride. He tipped me off about Vlad." I took a few steps in his direction, looking menacing as I could without fur and muzzle. "Would those be keys in your hand?"

"I found them up here next to Vlad's cape."

"Yeah. Right. Sorry to disappoint you, but the vamp I'm guessing was your boss has been demoted to a pile o'ash."

"He's dead?" Dmitri asked in disbelief. To my own shock, he tilted his head back, laughed, and whooped with what sure as f.u.c.k sounded like glee. "Hot d.a.m.n! You did it. He's gone!"

"Ding, dong, the vamp is dead. Why are you celebrating?"

"Hey, pretty lady. You weren't the only one who wanted a pound of his flesh. Need any help? Your clothes are all up here with Vlad's, piled up by the stairwell entrance. I have some Scotch in a hip flask."

Dusty and Warren and I exchanged looks. "I don't think we're in a trusting mood right now," I said slowly. "But... thanks."

Dmitri nodded. "S'cool. Come visit me again, will you? Vlad's not the only b.a.s.t.a.r.d around who needed taking down."

My suspicion meter dinged over. "You're more than an ordinary bartender, aren't you?"

He shrugged.

"I didn't smell anything off earlier."

"With all the booze I sling? I can't say I'm surprised."

"Alcohol all gone now, and you don't smell human. You don't smell like anything I've run into before." I took a grip on both Dusty's and Warren's arms. "What are you?"

Dmitri grinned. "A friend. You'll be seeing me around."

He disappeared. One second there, next second gone. Blinked out of existence.

Peachy.

I knew for sure I would have another meeting with Dmitri in the future, and wouldn't that be fun?

In the meantime? Home. Home, home, home. "Let's go," I ordered, dragging my men stair-wards, totally chucking any pretense at hiding my strength.

"You really are a werewolf, aren't you?" Warren asked slowly. "I never believed you. I'm sorry."

"And we really are vampires?" Dusty put in. "Dead?"

"Dead." Warren shook his head. He wanted to shudder, I could tell, but he had his bra.s.s-plated b.a.l.l.s back in place, better and harder and shinier than ever. My tough guy. "And I thought the worst that could happen from going to that club was getting plastered on Boilermakers. Really dead, huh?"

"Undead. It's complicated."

"Are we allergic to garlic? Do we fry in the sun? Do we have to sleep in coffins? I don't want to sleep in a coffin."

"We can't afford coffins, so if we need them we're s.h.i.t out of luck."

Ahh. The sweet sound of Warren being financially practical. The dulcet tones of Dusty's fascinated naivete.

"What do we do next?" Dusty asked, tugging my arm. He looked at me, all earnest and eager eyed, and I felt Warren's hard stare boring into the side of my head.

"For one, we get out of here," I replied simply. "We go back to the apartment, we f.u.c.k our brains out, I show you how cool it is to have zero snap-back time between o.r.g.a.s.ms, and tomorrow we start learning everything we can. I have a few contacts." And I'd make more. The Pack leaders were going to s.h.i.t Twizzlers, but I'd deal with them when I had to. "All for one, darlin's. Life, or unlife, goes on."

"The three oogedy-boogedy Musketeers," Dusty mused. "Hey! Can we get tattoos to show we're part of a s.p.a.ced-out trio?"

"Ooh!" I perked up, as I usually do when there are tattoos in the offing. "Can we?"

Warren sighed. "Fine. If tattoos even work on the undead and if we can find someone who won't flip out over inking vampires. But I am not wearing a Musketeer-brand fleur-de-lis on my hip."

"I had you pegged for something cheeky on your a.s.s," I remarked.

Chattering to one another, we faded off into the distance.

Here closes the curtain on the first chapter of our story. There's more to come, sure, but now you know how and where we started.

We were about to make enemies, find friends in the strangest places, and make history.

It's a h.e.l.l of a second act. Stick around, friends. You ain't seen nothin' yet.

Willa Okati Willa Okati is made of many things: imagination, pa.s.sion for manlove, creativity and sheer b.l.o.o.d.y-minded determination to keep writing, getting out all the stories in her head.

The only problem with that clever plan is that as she writes, more story ideas pop up...

She's getting into menage these days, and finding that it's really peachy to write female leads -- but these leading ladies have always gotta have their two men (who are into each other as well as her). That makes for extra-special spicy good times!

You can reach Willa at , visit her at her website (www.willaokati.com) or join her Yahoo! Group for updates at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/willa_okati/ May the force be with ya'll!