That Which Bites

chapter 6–SKY’S BLEEDING DEAD

POE MADE UP HER mind. The cafeteria, with an exposed kitchen at the head of the buffet tables, was her favorite place in the library.

“Here’s hummus flavored slightly with garlic and coriander. This dish is garlic okra,” Habib described, pushing his black-rimmed glasses up his nose to magnify his eyeballs five times their size. “This is–”

“And here’s a terrific eggplant and tahini dip called baba ghanoush, Poe,” Janice interrupted, putting a ladle full of each dish on Poe’s tray. The deep age lines on her face glistened from her cooking efforts.

“Please try the Ethiopian lentil soup, Spinach adobo, tofu spaghetti, avocado and olive salad, and freshly made pita bread that I whipped up in your honor.”

“Hey, where’s the meat?” a fifty-something man with a limp complained. The buffet line wasn’t moving at all and the trays bearing veggie dishes didn’t appeal to his palate.

“Yeah,” another butted in. “Weren’t we going to have ribs today?”

The complaints fell on deaf ears.

“Okay, Janice. Quit showing off. My turn now,”

Ray said, shooing everyone with his get-outta-my-way gut. You mentioned you like pad thai, so I fixed you up a batch,” he said, plunking a big orange serving on Poe’s already teetering plate. “It was the only dish I 155

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could make because I had to grind rice into flour to make the proper noodles for the dish. Preparation alone took almost all day.”

“Quit making excuses, old man.” Petra tapped him on the shoulder to get him out of her way. She must have been in her seventies but still dyed her hair crow black. Traces of hair coloring stained her forehead and neck. “I made only two dishes, but you’re going to love them,” Petra assured the half-drooling Poe. “I made you some sayur lodeh soup – that’s Indonesian vegetable soup with coconut milk – and some Guamanian red rice.

Poe had never heard of some of the dishes, but she was more than willing to taste. She beamed but avoided the eyes of her fellow diners. It dawned on her that with the exception of a handful of youthful vampires, the library was filled with people over twenty years her senior. Of course, true vampire age was impossible to guess from afar.

“You guys are some of the best people I’ve ever met,” Poe said, and she meant it. “If you ever need anything…”

“Eat up, girl,” Ray ordered the girl who was on the verge of sniffling. “You need to replenish after your little adventure this afternoon.”

“Where did all this food come from?”

“From the Valley, of course,” said Habib.

“Haven’t you heard of the holy roller farmers who supply meat and vegetables to Los Angles in exchange for some autonomy?”

Poe shook her head.

“Well they’re vampires who drink only animal blood and farm at night. They stay away from the politics rampant around here. Occasionally they’re called upon by the Council, but mostly they’re left 156

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alone. They’re responsible for feeding the humans of our city.”

All five sat on a table with a reserved sign on it saying: Sit here and DIE!

Poe inhaled the saliva-inducing aroma, imagining all those years of eating cold, slimy canned nibbles.

She shivered, hoping she would never have to suffer that fate again. Just to eat this feast regularly, Poe was almost willing to be Sainvire’s gopher and occasional blood supplier. Almost.

She dug in, but before she could take her first bite, Maple and Joseph appeared by her elbow. She gave Joseph a nasty look and brought the garlic okra to her mouth. However, Joseph’s seriousness made her fork waver. Something was wrong.

Maple, looking nervous, told Poe to follow her.

“But I’m eating.” Poe said.

“Can’t you wait until after our friend here has finished her meal?” demanded Ray, looking like a Hobbit with his girth.

“Yeah. She hasn’t even taken a bite yet,” Petra agreed, pursing her heavily lined smoker’s lips.

“Poe needs to come with us now,” Joseph insisted, his mouth tight with worry.

“But–”

“The Council has summoned her to appear before them,” Maple announced quietly. This time, the chefs did not protest. Aghast, they looked at Poe with fear.

Her appetite vanished.

Habib slid the tray away from Poe, saying, “I’ll keep this warm for you, dear girl.”

The other cooks nodded, looking suddenly ill.

Janice had to disengage the okra-heavy fork from Poe’s hand. She knew then that something sinister was going to happen to her.

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The Council equals ancient vampires with crazy powers. She’d killed a few of Trench’s people and lied about non-existent underground guerrillas. I’m history, and I’m ethnic!

The quiet trek to the first floor lobby was terribly funereal. Maple and Joseph didn’t explain anything, but their grim mouths said it all.

By the entrance stood Sainvire, his long, dark coat already on. Perla fidgeted nervously beside the tall vampire and smiled weakly at Poe. She handed the girl a newly laundered coat, the armaments, and her pack that contained all the blessed ammo she was going to need for the night. Her new set of weapons seemed to follow her from room to room. Sainvire inclined his head at her, his unnerving eyes flashing with restrained energy.

“No doubt they’ve told you,” he indicated Joseph and Maple, “the Council sent a messenger requesting your attendance this evening.”

Poe nodded. Asking why would have been insipid and pointless, because everyone already knew that she was going to be tortured and turned into a bedpan emptier before morning. With a sigh, she put on her coat, thinking that this was her last night on earth, and she didn’t even have a proper last meal. She stooped down to double-knot her sneakers.

Her self-pity ended when Perla locked lips with Maple. They were like Ginger and Gina, the lesbian porno queens, but older, more round, and definitely homelier. Holy cows, she had no idea. It gave her a nice, warm feeling. At least there were still lovers in the ridiculous world of vampires. Too bad for her; she was going to die a virgin. And a starving one at that.

Joseph had been ordered to stay near home base, and he was not a happy dead for it. Kaleb Sainvire was 158

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a friend, but he was foremost a master vampire who had the last say when it came to his people.

“Remember the three S’s?” Joseph reminded his friend. “Speed, stealth, and suave? My retinue of expertise will be needed tonight.” The words nearly made Poe gag. Joseph smiled facetiously. It was his last attempt to lighten the direness of the situation.

“I need you here to protect the fort in case of an attack.”

Because he couldn’t very well go against the master vampire, Joseph gave Poe a squeeze and mumbled an apology for the afternoon instead. Poe gave him a dimpled half-smile and said, “Buck up, Joe.

You’d better wish I don’t return, ’cause I’m going to kick your face in when I get back.” She punched him hard in the stomach. Joseph grimaced and pretended he was cowed.

Joseph lifted the heavy wooden beam, pushed the door open for his friends, and said, “Godspeed to you all.”

The door bolt clanged shut behind them. The three were on their own and they had to make it to the Herald Examiner Building on the south side of downtown.

(((

Unmitigated darkness blanketed downtown by the time the three had walked a block from the library.

Unrelenting rain pelted the already gurgling streets. It had been three days since the downpour began.

Rainfall had become more prevalent after the gray miasma. Poe thought a lot about the change and came up with the best educated guess a third grade dropout could concoct. Perhaps it had to do with the lack of 159

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industry and cars and the untouched natural resources.

Nature was still purging itself.

The three figures cautiously listened to any sounds out of the ordinary, trudging through the overflowing streets. Their only illumination was the occasional display of lightning. A bout of nerves attacked Poe.

“Um, Sainvire,” Poe began, clearing her throat.

“Yes, Poe?” the vampire answered in a low but alert tone. The young woman’s silky voice unsettled him.

“I’ve been thinking. Would you consider letting me go so I can skip the meeting tonight?”

“I wish I could, Poe,” he answered. “But keeping you under my protection is the only option we have.”

“’Cause you know, I’m not all white. And they do bad things to minorities.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder which she shrugged off.

Poe swore when she lost her footing in the dark.

Her body was too rigid from her natural fear of darkness, lightning, and vampires. Wading through sewer water was no picnic. She cursed Sainvire and Maple for not carrying her into the air and making her stagger instead in unbelievable filth and cold. She thanked Sister Ann again for giving her tetanus shots, but they weren’t going to do her any good if she contracted cholera and the plague.

“Hold on to my coat, Poe,” Sainvire said, not asking. Poe was going to tell him off but decided against it. She held on to his sleeve.

When Maple tripped a quarter-mile into their trek and had to be steadied by Sainvire, Poe finally realized that the female vampire couldn’t fly. She could only hover a few feet from the ground as she had after tumbling. At least she wasn’t the only one hampering 160

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the journey. They should have been up among skyscrapers and away from the rank water with lots of rusted metal slivers. Her Adidas swam in fetidness that marinated her pruned feet in street sauce.

She did not want to die.

I could shoot Sainvire and Maple in the head and make my escape, Poe said in the muddle of her mind.

It’d help if I could see two feet from me. Immediately the sweet scene between Maple and Perla came back to her, and she resisted her impulse.

Vampires were quickly becoming more three-dimensional, and she didn’t like it. Nosferatu was so much easier to hate. The past few days made her realize that not all vampires possessed the inherent evil of their kind. The revelation made it all the harder to lump them together.

Sainvire’s silence over the looming Council meeting didn’t help. Poe would have been delusional to deny that she was more than a bit apprehensive.

Shouldn’t he have prepped her about what to expect and what to say before the oldest vampires in town?

“Over a thousand!” she spat in the rain, talking quietly to herself. “More like five and two of them are dead. I’ll get tortured over semantics.” She would not spill the beans on her friends hiding out in Pico Rivera.

But under torture? Waterboarding? I hate pain!

“Shouldn’t we discuss strategy?” she began. “Or at least tell me something useful.”

“The less you know, the better you’ll be,” was the only thing Sainvire said.

She asked again.

“Can’t you tell the Council that I got away, that I outsmarted you and Maple?”

“It’s too late for that,” he replied, his voice hardening. “We have company.”

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Poe opened her mouth to ask the vampire if she’d heard him correctly when Sainvire and Maple quickly flanked her on each side, their dead bodies tense. The family of rats swimming alongside them in search of solid ground was not the reason for their caution.

Taking the hint, Poe took out both Glocks from her shoulder holster and readied herself. She could barely make out Sainvire now that he positioned himself ahead. He wore black like her. Maple was easier to spot because she had on a white raincoat that reflected in the dark.

Scuttling sounds and sloshing feet on the flooded streets were heard, followed by laughter. Like a formulaic diabolical laugh from Vincent Price in the Thriller video, the snickers and bellows were meant to petrify.

They worked on Poe, for she couldn’t see a thing.

She was ready for the plucking, alright. The only thing she could do was to tighten her hold on the newly acquired guns.

Sainvire’s heavy arm draped around her shoulder and led her to the right.

“Be prepared for anything, Poe,” he whispered in her ear. His cold lips so close made her shiver. Great Ali, help me!

Her two companions remained stalwart and silent despite the exaggerated malevolent laughter. Their reaction didn’t make Poe feel any better. She would have liked to hear them fight back with dirty words.

Gutter talk would have fixed it for her.

When finally the three resumed their trek in the midst of their unwanted entourage, Poe wondered why they hadn’t been attacked yet. Then a voice, well remembered in its venom, addressed her personally.

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“Even if you survive the Council tonight, Julia, we’ll be waiting for you. To escort you back to our banquet table.”

It was Pengle, the ugly vampire whose hand she had hacked off with the Rambo knife. She was in the shits. There were only three of them, and from the echoed sound of laughter all around, a contingent of vamps and subvamps from Trench’s camp surrounded them.

“You hear me, Julia?” Pengle taunted. “After we feed on you tonight, until not even a drop of blood’s left, your body will be hacked to pieces and stewed.”

He chuckled, “To feed our poor starving cattle, not that they would get more than soup from your brittle bones.”

Poe swallowed hard. Some visual! She hated that Pengle. She should have finished him off, but he returned to mess with her mind. Hadn’t she read a tedious paperback by Machiavelli she had found lying around the upstairs hotel? The man said something about never leaving enemies alive, no matter how young or old, for they might come back to haunt you.

The kook was right!

“Maybe four or five of us will have fun with your body first. You’ve titillated us with your unfettered breasts–”

That was it. Poe could stomach talk about cannibalism and blood drinking, but never her top parts. Especially since she hadn’t thought to wear a bra until the night before.

“How’s the hand, Pengle?” she asked calmly when everything about her wanted to scream.

Stuttering be damned. “Did the stump sprout some digits yet?”

The vampire took time to coherently answer, confirming Poe’s thought that Pengle was as pissed as 163

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Adam after biting on the apple at the behest of his woman.

“You bitch!” was the best he could do. “I’ll send twenty vampires to stomp you, then–”

“Then you’re going to suck all of my blood. Then you’re going to make me into stew to feed your cattle,”

she finished. “You already said that, stumpy!”

Again, silence from the far end.

“You dumb bitch,” he repeated.

“So you’ve already said. But if I’m so dumb, then how come I’m holding two pistols with my two bare hands?”

That did it. Pengle, the one-handed vampire, lunged at her in the inky darkness. Only creatures of the night could have detected the movement. Sainvire intercepted Pengle, taking hold of his sparse hair and coat. Without much effort, the master vampire tossed the angry Pengle five yards away. Poe laughed at hearing the splash.

“Poe, you better keep your mouth shut,” Sainvire ordered. “We don’t need you to antagonize any more vampires into ripping your throat tonight.”

“But I didn’t start–”

“Enough. Be alert instead of contentious.”

His rebuke stung. The master vampire owed her no allegiance. He could just hand her over to the waiting arms of Pengle. Or worse, the Council. It was best to do as he asked, but if he ever told her to shut up again, Poe vowed to stab his eye with more than just a pencil.

Maple gave her shoulder a squeeze for courage, and the three walked the gauntlet to the headquarters of the Vampire Council. Taunts and jibes accompanied them.

It seemed an eternity before they reached the old Herald Examiner Building, a Mission Revival 164

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monument to a dead media empire. All three were drenched, but only Poe’s teeth chattered from the cold, or perhaps, fear.

Two imposing sentries awaited them by the immense double doors, their yellowish fangs hanging half an inch past their lower lips. Everything in their pores screamed “old.” Poe inhaled a deep calming breath before entering. The whole thing wasn’t quite as grounding as she had wanted, for an honest to goodness Igor appeared out of nowhere with an elaborate bow. This bent creature had one giant eye and a tiny closed one, a flat but crooked nose, and thin lips hiding two rotten front teeth. And if that wasn’t quite enough, his back was hunched. His name, as he introduced himself, went with the rest of him.

“Good evening, Mr. Sainvire. Ms. Brockhurst.

Pleasure to see you both again,” he lisped with a watered-down British accent. The one eye turned to Poe. “Milfred is my name, Ms. Julia.” The butler’s giant eye looked as though it winked whenever he blinked.

“If you would all please follow me to the Council’s chambers, it would be duly appreciated.”

They followed the man’s halting walk to the judgment room as Poe had labeled it in her mind.

Finally able to see the expression on her companions’ faces, Poe asked, “What the f*ck?” with her eyes. She received a tight smile from each vampire followed by a hell-if-I know shrug. If these old-fashioned Ancients still preferred to hire the Bram Stoker kind of lispers, then she was going to be worse than stew.

Unoiled hinges slowly creaked open as Milfred waved them inside the metal-studded doors leading into the circular chamber meant to instill old-fashioned macabre. It worked, grating on tightly strung nerves.

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Even Sainvire’s stoic composure slipped at the B-movie moment.

Oddly, Maple smiled and took something out of her pocket. “Figured you might need this, Milfred, since the hinges of this place seem to act up whenever visitors are around,” she said, handing a blue canister to the butler.

“Much thanks, Miss Brockhurst.” The butler inclined his head. “It was kind of you to bring an, er, WD-40 with you. The Council will be right along shortly.”

The building was entirely illuminated by silver candelabras bearing dripping candles and crystal chandeliers heavy with wax and cobwebs.

“They have something against electricity?” Poe asked in a whisper for which she heard no answer.

“Burning candles contributes to global warming. At least that’s what my mom said.”

These Council cronies knew how to feed off the fear invoked by old black and white Peter Lorre horror flicks. The candles created ghastly shadows, especially on the polished marble floors that intoned frightful clank-clank sounds when heels made contact. A grotesque painting by Titian covering almost an entire wall depicted a fallen angel under attack from a band of demons, the angel’s pain-filled, bleeding eyes staring up to heaven for intervention.

“That’ll be me,” Poe muttered. “My prayers will be unanswered, too.”

Underneath the painting stood a half-moon, elevated bench long enough to seat five councilmembers comfortably without elbowing one another. On either side of the bench stood two sentinels similar to the creatures that guarded the building entrance. These two looked fiercer, without a drop of pity like prehistoric things that didn’t give two shits 166

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anymore. Shadows hallowed their eyes and made their unnaturally lengthy yellow teeth glisten.

“These walruses need to floss,” Poe said too loudly.

“Shh!” Maple admonished.

Milfred led the three companions to the center floor that faced the bench.

“Wait here,” he said with a raspy voice then limped away. His irregular footsteps made such morbid echoing sounds. The resonance halted abruptly by the door where he waited like the others for the Council to appear. The squelch of Poe’s fidgeting wet shoes and dripping clothes were the only clatter that disturbed the silence of the chamber.

I bet they’re going to make a grand entrance fit for the old, corny days, Poe thought and gritted her teeth to stop from chattering. She was freezing, and even the hundreds of chunky candles around the room didn’t warm her any. To kill time and make herself feel better, Poe stooped down to untie and re-tie her sopping laces. She vowed to never stutter again.

They stood for almost twenty minutes. Purple-mouthed Poe turned to Sainvire and said, “They’re not coming. Let’s go home.”

Sainvire looked down at her upturned face, white from the cold, and shook his head no. He smiled, however, at the verbal slip. He was surprised at how much he appreciated Poe’s full lips and expressive dark eyes. The thought of her living at the library proved a pleasant one.

Poe shut her mouth. She had referred to the library as her home. How embarrassing! He must think me a frikkin’ parasite out to eat him out of home and library.

With Poe occupied in a mushroom cloud of mortification, the sudden appearance of five ancient vampires didn’t scare her any worse. Two entered from 167

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the main door, floating their way to the wooden seats.

One fell from the high ceiling, landing gently on his feet next to his chair. Another seemed to appear from under the bench. And the last walked from behind the darkness of the room, her long limbs hugged by a flimsy Indian chiffon gown and her silver two-strap high heels clicking seductively on the floor. The statuesque immortal paused rather dramatically in front of Milfred and handed him her shimmering shawl.

“Zank you, Milfred dear,” she said tenderly with the grating accent of Zsa Zsa Gabor. She patted his cheeks fondly and resumed her hypnotic trek to the bench. Poe bit down the urge to rub her eyes. She could have sworn that the leggy blonde was wearing nothing under the gauzy green material.

As she made her way to the bench, the very attractive blonde with periwinkle blue eyes stopped before the three visitors. She ignored Maple altogether and merely glanced over Poe’s much shorter form, rudely lingering on the girl’s scar. No, the woman had eyes only for Sainvire, who returned the stare with an uplift of his black brow. Because Sainvire didn’t show any sign of backing down, the ancient vampire smiled then laughed, flicking her long tresses back. Fast as the eye could see, the blonde was leaning against Sainvire, her torrential breasts rubbing his chest while her hands tried to tilt his head down for a wet lingering kiss.

Poe and Maple could only stare open-mouthed at the two. They looked like models from old perfume ads. Poe mind-slapped Sainvire for being such a slutty vampire.

“Mono,” she muttered.

He didn’t even try to stop the vampire. In fact, he looked as though he was enjoying himself, as his arm had snaked around the woman’s narrow waist. When 168

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Poe was about to insinuate herself between the two very striking undead, Sainvire pushed the blonde away.

“Enough,” he said evenly, black blood dribbling on the side of his mouth, his own fangs sharp.

Winded, the ancient vampire staggered back then collected herself, her mouth dewy with blood from the kiss. She had a fondness for biting, especially the tongue in mid-kiss.

“I see you still have inhibitions vhen it comes to public displays of affection,” the vamp complained.

“Pity.”

With a flick of a look at Poe, the Ancient resumed her catwalk to the bench. And she really wasn’t wearing underwear. Poe could clearly see the outline of two teardrop buns.

The blonde shrugged away the disapproving looks the other councilmembers gave her and sat down on the far left of the bench.

“Don’t give me zhat look, Gruman,” she hissed while arranging herself on the chair.

“And what look would that be?” Gruman Raspair intoned. As head of the Council and the oldest in appearance among the vampires, Raspair reminded Poe of an even more f*cked up Hannibal Lecter.

“The Nazi I’m-going-to-torture-you-later look,”

she said without mirth.

Gruman waved his hand in dismissal and began with the introductions. Sainvire’s tongue-mate was Gwendolyn Salam. The dark-featured man to her right was an Ancient named Rodrigo Jacopo. He looked to have been about Sainvire’s age when he turned. His green eyes bore into Poe’s dark browns during the greetings. He was the vampire who fell from the ceiling, apparently spying. And more than the others he caused Poe’s heart to palpitate.

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“How do you do, Poe?” said Wilhemina Dunne, the most affable of the councilmembers. “It is my hope that this meeting will adjourn soon so you can get out of those wet clothes.” The short-cropped brunette was the only one who smiled encouragingly at Poe.

The man to her right, Umberto Dali, sped through the introductions and grumbled his request for the session to begin. “Do let’s hurry. I can think of a hundred other things I’d like to do this rainy night.”

The ash-haired vampire with searing light-brown eyes looked young enough, but his actions and brusque manners made him an ideal no-nonsense judge of indiscriminate age.

Gruman Raspair, olden in looks and age, began the meeting by motioning Poe to step closer to the bench that loomed over her like Alice in Wonderland furniture. So he can look down on me from above and make me feel like a tick, thought Poe, as she complied with the order. The first step she took, however, was a complete failure, for she slipped in a pool of water from her soggy Adidas. Maple had to steady her to keep her from falling. Sainvire leaned by her side to whisper in her ear.

“The best thing you can do is be honest.”

Honest my ass! Now he tells me. With that, Poe harrumphed and elbowed him away from her.

Gwendolyn laughed, obviously tickled by the daffy-footed vampire rustler. “Are you sure she’s ze one Quillon vas talking about?” she asked no one in particular.

Poe squared her shoulders and resumed walking, ignoring the squelching sounds of her sneakers. She hated Sainvire’s girlfriend with a fist of fury.

“Do you know why you’re here, Ms. Poe?”

Raspair’s high-octave voice reverberated in the room.

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“No,” Poe answered, thanking her patron saints for not allowing her to stutter. That was all Gwendolyn would need to enjoy the laugh of a lifetime.

“No idea at all?” Raspair asked again, his bushy eyebrows furrowing.

“If this has anything to do with yesterday afternoon at the Eastern, then I have a clue.”

“I think you have more than a clue, Julia,” a voice from the doorway accused.

Poe’s eyes narrowed at the sight of Trench.

Shadows obscured half of his face until he stepped under the chandelier. His once unmarred skin now had Freddy Krueger crags on his right side from the holy water Poe had sprayed at him. That’s what he deserved for being such an a*shole. But how did he survive the garlic bullets?

These vampires had become too complacent and fat with their titles. Squirting Trench with holy water acid was easy for Poe, and the Council did not even confiscate her weapons. If the sentinels and the five powerful councilmembers are expected to stay my hand, then they’re idiots. If I shoot at least two of them before I’m stopped dead, I’ll die smiling. Their cockiness about living so long with ultimate power was going to be their undoing. Poe had her proof that they could all be killed or maimed after all.

“This little girl sprayed me with garlic water, as you can see. She also shot me in the chest. If you want to inspect–”

“No, thank you, Quillon,” Rodrigo said dryly.

“Your face is evidence enough.”

Quillon winced at Rodrigo’s flippant comment, but he continued. “And she killed fifteen of my people along with two cattle.”

“You’re the one who bled my friends to death, you freak of nature. As for your bloodsuckers, they had 171

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plenty of opportunity to kill me,” she spat. “There was only one of me!”

Quillon took a menacing step toward Poe, but the lithe body of Sainvire blocked his progress. Poe swore she could smell the violence emitting from Sainvire’s pores.

The Council merely watched. Gwendolyn chuckled, enjoying every tense moment. Raspair grumbled but said nothing. After living so long, any fracas that broke the tedium was welcome.

Finally Sainvire spoke, his vigilant eyes glistening by candlelight. “What is Julia Poe accused of, Council?” His deep authoritative voice rang and brought the room to attention. “Is it usual for the Council to state the charges at the end of the hearing?”

Wilhemina nodded and said, “You’re right, Kaleb.

How remiss of us.” She looked at Poe, stating the charges from memory. “Julia, you are accused of willfully killing ten vampires and five halfdeads, as well as perpetrating the termination of two cattle with the help of your underground circle. A separate charge of maiming and/or permanently injuring nine of Trench’s people will also be reviewed. The last and most important charge is one of murderous intent against the vampire race. You are accused of being the ring leader of thousands of guerillas compelled to kill vampires, steal cattle, and retake the city.”

Poe felt ill. How could she defend herself against such fiction? Everything was untrue, except for the killing and maiming part. But guerilla fighters bent on retaking the city? She looked back at Maple and Sainvire who gazed encouragingly at her but offered nothing.

“How do you plead?” asked Gwendolyn impatiently, her bosom jiggling with every toss of hair.

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Poe shook her head and blew out a terribly shaky breath. She prayed for strength to her Patron Saints of Decent Lawyers, Atticus Finch and Clarence Darrow.

“Before I answer any of the charges, I’d like to know if you make concessions for self-defense.”

Umberto Dali, who hadn’t uttered a word out of extreme boredom, grunted in the affirmative and added in a disinterested voice, “Technically you’re food, and food cannot defend itself. But go ahead. Give your explanation so I can finish the second season of Deadwood.”

“Yes, sir. I did kill those vampires and halfdeads, because they were trying to kill me. There were no guerilla groups in there. Just my dog and me. As you already know, vampires are way stronger than us humans, so it’s romper room logic that I was outmanned, outnumbered, overpowered, and all that.”

She exhaled, conjuring the famous Scopes Monkey Trial in her mind. “So for the first charge, I have to plead not guilty.”

“Then why were you at the Eastern Columbia Building?” Umberto asked gruffly.

“Because my two friends were up there,” she said as her eyes flashed at Trench. “He had them bled.”

When her voice shook, she cleared her throat. “One of them was already dead. The other died during the melee. His men were waiting to ambush me.”

“So you’re telling me you went there by yourself?” Raspair asked.

“Yes.”

“Trench, you told us that you came upon a dozen guerilla fighters.”

“I was told that, Your Honor.” He coughed. “I believe they all got away, except for this one who was picked up by Sainvire here. He now claims her as his, by the way.”

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“But there was only me!”

“Liar!” Trench accused.

“You’re the liar, dick!”

“Enough!” ordered Raspair. “Sainvire, did you see anyone other than this girl?”

Sainvire stepped forward. “Other than Trench’s men, Julia was by herself.”

“What? You’re going to believe him?” Trench bellowed indignantly. “He’ll say anything to protect his little f*ckwit mistress–”

Two gasped in shock. Gwendolyn, who had looked almost as bored as Umberto, now sat up straighter, looking over the dark-haired Julia more keenly. The other was Poe, who was nobody’s mistress. At least not yet!

“Watch what you’re saying, Trench. The Council can sniff a lie a mile away,” Sainvire warned. Only the hard glint of his liquid eyes betrayed his feelings.

“Did you personally see any of these twelve vigilantes, Quillon?” asked Dali, his deep-set eyes penetrating Trench’s.

Quillon hesitated. He seemed to recall that Umberto Dali could whiff out a lie like a trained hound. His unmatched skill was invaluable to the Council.

“No. I didn’t. But my men did.”

“Did you bring any of these men to appear before us?” Rodrigo asked, detecting the lie as well.

“No. I didn’t think I’d have to.” He shook his head.

“Well, about two dozen of your people were nice enough to follow us here. Maybe some of them can vouch for you,” supplied Sainvire, the tension easing from his voice. “They’re still outside, I’m sure.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Quillon sneered.

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associates that she is leader to thousands of underground fighters bent on dousing sleeping vampires with garlic water.” Quillon laughed sardonically. “She even said she was a queen to them.”

To this, Poe paled, feeling sick. She was glad not to have eaten the nice dinner prepared by the wonderful library chefs. It would have tainted the white marble floor and further prejudiced the Council to her detriment.

“Vell, vhat do you say about zhis, girl?”

Gwendolyn asked impatiently, her well-endowed bosom heaving dramatically. Really! No need for the Jell-o effect.

“I, I lied to Trench. There is no guerilla movement.”

“More lies.”

“Quillon, if you open your mouth again during this girl’s testimony,” Dali roared, “I will personally eject you out of here through the skylight.” Everyone looked up to the murky glass showing nothing but stormy skies.

He turned to Poe. “Go ahead and explain yourself.”

“Ok. Trench told me that my friends claimed there was an underground movement.” She sighed. “I told him I only knew of the three of us. But crater face here insisted there was a massive resistance, so I let him believe it.” Quillon exploded bazookas with his eyes.

She prayed that her omission fooled Dali the truth sniffer.

The four councilmembers turned to Umberto Dali.

He returned their gaze, nodding once.

Without warning, all five vampires stood up and headed for the second chamber door beneath the Titian painting.

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To say that the atmosphere in the chamber was tense would be an understatement. It was bubbling with Quillon’s ill will and Poe’s bruised pride at being relegated to mistress level. Maple’s face was about to crack from keeping such an emotionless face, and Sainvire was frozen where he stood thinking about the mob they’d have to endure outside if they survived the Council ruling. Poe was ready to collapse. The beating she had been taking since the night before, especially with the wet clothes that hung on her shoulders, made her body lash out. Poe looked around for a chair, but saw only the five high-backs behind the bench.

Sainvire laid a supportive hand on her shoulder.

She didn’t shrug it off.

Finally they emerged, a quarter of an hour later.

Wilhemina Dunne was the only one with a smile, the clinking bob on her ears swaying jauntily. The rest were either stoic or dour, like Gwendolyn Salam.

“Ms. Poe,” Gruman Raspair began. “All charges against you are dismissed.”

Maple exhaled loudly, hugging the girl’s shoulders. Quillon bared his fangs in ire. Since when did colored cattle supersede the rights of a master vampire?

“However,” the head of the Council continued,

“we are of one mind about the threat you present to our city. We are not unaware of your affiliation with Fred Beaver and Sister Ann, but being that they are no longer alive, you place us in a very difficult situation.”

“Do we let you go unscathed and unpunished for past deeds, or do we ensure that you will no longer be a threat?”

“And technically speaking, you have no rights but to be fed vitamins and nutritious food,” finished Rodrigo Jacopo.

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“Or mop up after ze vhite cattle,” Gwendolyn hissed, looking Poe straight in the eye. “My vote is to get ze straws out.”

Sainvire spoke, his voice clear. “I will take responsibility for her.”

“No. I think she should be under my care since she murdered so many of my people,” Trench demanded.

At this, Poe raised her hand. “Um, I’d rather you kill me if you’re going to hand me over to Quillon.”

She looked pointedly at her nemesis. “I can’t promise not to kill any more of his vampires, and that would violate Council rules.”

Wilhemina smiled wider. “Sainvire is the only option for her then.”

Gwendolyn pursed her rather thin mouth but said nothing.

“Sainvire, we expect you to recover all the missing cattle ever taken by this girl within the month,” Gruman Raspair snarled, clearly not happy about the leniency. “And heed my words, young lady.

If I ever hear of any vampire killing or cattle kidnapping that reeks of you, then I will personally hunt you down and puncture your jugular with my 24-carat gold straw.”

He turned his bushy gaze to Sainvire. “As for you, Kaleb. We expect this girl to become cattle, leech, or vampire. If you can’t live without her, lobotomize her and spit blood into her brain. If you choose neither then every action she takes will reflect on you. For every vampire she kills, we will execute five of yours. For every cattle she steals, ten of yours will be handed over to Trench and other master vampires.” He paused, relishing the pregnant silence. “And for your information, food like that with impure blood should not be carrying firearms.

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“If she escapes, then you will personally face the Council for her crimes of treason against the new realm.” He smiled, his yellow fangs glinting obscenely.

“Do you still accept responsibility for this girl, or do you willingly turn her over to Trench?”

Without even batting an eye, Sainvire answered,

“I accept.” Gwendolyn, looking miffed, stood up abruptly and left spectacularly through the side door.

Poe felt her heart lurch. She would be a prisoner of Sainvire. Should I just ask to be executed on the spot? And yet she didn’t want to die. Nor did she want to go back out into the world by herself. She had no one out there. It was too early to say she had friends like Joseph and the chefs at the library. To be friends with vampires at all would make her title of vampire killer a contradiction in terms. Like a rag doll slumped against the wall, Poe remained quiet.

(((

As if supporting the Council’s decision, the rain trickled to a halt, and the moon slowly pushed back dark clouds to emerge in all its rock star glory. The smell of freshly ended rain lingered along with the squalid smell of the city. Like synchronicity, two dead hearts and a live one thumped with pleasure at the sight of the clear night. Poe tasted the cool air, savoring the freedom of being outside. And just like that, it was over.

Something nagged at her. Pulling on Sainvire’s coat sleeve, Poe asked, “How come Trench isn’t sludge? I shot him in the chest.”

Looking into the darkness, Sainvire answered distractedly, “Must have been wearing Kevlar.”

“Or he’s drinking Plasmacore,” added Maple.

“They all do nowadays, the hypocrites!”

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Before she could ask another question, Gwendolyn approached from the shadows, slowly circling the vampire killer. “I didn’t know you liked zhem so young. And little.”

Poe burned in the darkness at having been judged and found wanting. Not everyone can have model legs and Betty Blow boobies like Gwendolyn.

“Gwendolyn, leave her out of this,” Sainvire asked politely. Too politely.

“Tell me if it’s true or not,” Gwendolyn purred, running a fingernail along the underside of her breast.

“Is she your mistress like Trench said?”

“It’s been over between us for years now, Gwen,”

the master vampire answered cryptically. Inwardly he could taste the disgust on his tongue. He couldn’t believe he once had a relationship with such a spoiled, vengeful creature. “I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

“He’s not my–” Poe tried supplying the truth but was cut off.

“I must take Julia home, Gwendolyn, before the rain returns.” He was done talking. He gave a nudge to the small of Poe’s back. Maple followed closely behind.

A furious Gwendolyn screeched, “And I vore zhis stupid dress just to complement your eyes.” She huffed, “Vhat a vaste!”

“Face it, love,” Sainvire threw over his shoulder.

“You’re just bored. And when you’re bored, you’re a soap opera.”

Milfred appeared bearing a delicate shawl and put it around Gwendolyn’s shoulders. The harsh lines of anger on her face dwindled away, smiling tenderly at the butler. All Milfred could do was blink continuously as though in love with the concept of servitude. Bathed 179

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in the newly emerged moonlight, she turned to the departing backs of Sainvire and his companions.

“He’s right, you know. I need some stimulation and ze little girl vill do nicely.”

With all the bitterness she could muster, she wished them ill luck going home and strode back inside the Herald Examiner Building followed by a very sycophantic Milfred, the only creature she could abide.

Once safely out of earshot, Poe squawked, “I don’t appreciate you making her think I’m your love slave.”

“She’s going to think that anyway despite what you or I say. I was just trying to save time by leaving this place as quickly as possible,” Sainvire explained.

“What’s the hurry? It’s not raining anymore and–”

Maple interrupted. “We’ve got to reach the library before Quillon’s people show themselves. Kaleb was just trying to get rid of her. You don’t truly think the Council is going to let you get away scot-free tonight, do you? They’ve got to appease Trench somehow.”

Poe nodded, understanding at last. She survived the Council because Sainvire had claimed her as his.

He was too powerful a vampire to cross. And so was Trench.

A small rock aimed at Poe’s head began the bloody night. Sainvire and Maple safely deflected the first ten rocks or so, but there were far too many to block and too much noise to sort through. Poe received a third blow on the temple, bloodying her vision.

Another hit her ear, her head, then her upper torso and legs. She could barely hold on to the Uzi because she was too busy crouching low on the ground and shielding her face. The fishy, metallic smell of her blood was overwhelming not only to her but the legion of vampires hiding behind the darkness of night, 180

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waiting to feed. She licked at the blood that dribbled down to her open mouth. Blood tasted nice and warm, but that was all. Completely overrated, like tonguing rusty metal. Not worth getting killed over, she thought.

“Maple, watch her,” Sainvire ordered as he flew up into the hazy sky toward the stone throwers. His killer talons gleamed in the moonlight and his elongated fangs were bared in anticipation of the fight.

Poe shivered, grossed out at the thought that she semi-fancied the fiend.

Maple and Poe heard scrambling and an occasional pain-filled scream, nothing more. The pelting stopped, but Sainvire did not return. Maple hissed and took off her white coat. Her forearms had become hard as steel with goose bumps until little deadly spikes appeared on the surface. The middle-aged vampire had turned into a bludgeon machine.

“They’re coming,” warned Maple.

Poe stood up from her crouch and readied her Uzi.

Blood was still trickling from her ear and forehead, but she ignored it. She was more paranoid that disgusting gutter water would splash her wounds.

With the help of the bright moon, she saw shadows slinking their way. She thanked the bottles of beta-carotene she had been taking all those years for clear vision. The moon shadow made the band of over twenty vampires and halfdeads more sinister and frightening. Poe swallowed then fired a round.

Vampires who could fly took to the air. Those who could move with the speed of a bullet train attacked. The rest hovered, hissed, and sliced at them with talons not quite as long as Sainvire’s but deadly nonetheless. Either way, Maple and Poe were outnumbered.

The vampire fought as if she were Joan of Arc herself, battering heads and severing spinal cords with 181

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her arms without even an expression on her lined face.

She was frightful. No wonder Sainvire had chosen her to accompany them.

Poe had trouble. She had a hard time seeing with the moon intermittently ducking behind clouds. She had to contend with drops of bothersome blood dripping from her many head wounds, blurring her vision. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her coat for the hundredth time. Inattention cost her, for a vampire took the opportunity to tackle her from behind.

Her arm weight pinned the Uzi, and she couldn’t very well get to the Glocks in her shoulder holster. So she went limp and pretended to be unconscious. She took the nasty punches the undead gave her. When the vampire was satisfied, he turned her over. That was when she blasted his mothersucking head off.

“You stupid piece of shit!” Poe yelled maniacally as vampire blood and brain showered her face. No time to wipe them up, she thought, as three more halfdeads surrounded her, guns at attention. She grunted and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. The manufacturer’s oath that the Uzi would not lock was utter rot. She hated Uzis.

She jumped behind a garbage drum to shield herself from the raining bullets. Before she could reach for her guns, Poe fell back, as a bullet went through both sides of the thick drum and missed her by a sliver. Steel-tipped bullets. Yikes! A shadow fell on her. Before she could look up, she found herself airborne.

Her arms were yanked by two leering vampires, her weapons out of reach. Unlike Sainvire, two undead flunkies were needed to lift her up in the air and not very high at that. With arm and shoulder tendons stretching like a twisted violin cord, Poe shrieked.

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“That’s right, girlie. Cry your eyes out,” said the pudgier of the two. “Trench is gonna kill you tonight, and we’re the ones who’re gonna bring you in.”

“That’s a dozen janitors each, hombre,” said the other vamp with crooked teeth that shimmered in the dark. “Mexican janitor neck or not, that’s a fresh kill every night! F*ck that refrigerated shit.”

“Besides, this little mutt killed our friends,” said pudgy hombre, tightly gripping his hold on Poe’s arm as an early round of punishment.

Poe forced herself to stay calm. She refused to make a fool of herself any more in front of these vampires by hollering like a coward. But in the end, she couldn’t help it. She took a deep breath and screamed, “Saaainvire!”

Before she could even blink three times, she saw him silhouetted against the moon. His face was fierce and full of bad intent. His two-inch fangs frightened Poe more than she would admit. When the two bozos saw the master vampire, they let go of Poe and fumbled with their weapons. Three things happened at once. Sainvire caught her by the scruff of her coat with his left hand and dodged the deads’ bullets by sheer speed alone. With a grunt, he threw Poe upwards until she almost believed she was a rocket blasting to the moon.

While Poe began her descent to earth, Sainvire busied himself by grabbing pudgy hombre’s oily hair and cleanly severing his head with his talons. The other vamp with crooked teeth attempted to fly away but was too slow for Sainvire who skewered his heart Benihana-style. He finished just in time to catch Poe’s fall and land her softly on top of a jeep Cherokee.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his incisors looking menacing.

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“Uh huh,” answered Poe, breathless and fearful of the vampire.

“Get your Glocks ready. There’re still more of them out there.” When the girl didn’t answer, he said,

“I can’t babysit, Poe. You’ve got to pull your weight.”

At this, Poe’s nostrils flared, insulted. “I always pull my weight,” she said, pushing him away.

Unsheathing her Glocks, she jumped down the hood of the jeep onto the street. She ran to where Maple was busy bashing heads with her spiky forearms.

“Pull my weight, huh?” she muttered. She turned loose to ease Maple’s burdens by shooting six vampires in the head before they even knew what was happening.

“Poe, watch out for the speedy ones. There are two of them,” warned Maple. And just like a portent, one appeared to slam Maple against an ancient palm tree and again at the hood of a car like she was a mannequin.

The girl inhaled and aimed. “Help me, someone,”

she whispered. The voice in her head said, now, and Poe fired. The dead twitched on the ground by Maple’s feet.

Before she could crack a smile, the wind was knocked out of her. Someone, too quick to identify, tackled her and was about to slam her. Even though she could not see Speedy Gonzalez hugging her at the waist, Poe pointed her gun at what she thought was its back and fired. She crashed painfully to the ground with a raging female vamp on top of her. The creature writhed in pain, screaming, “I’m going to kill you, bitch!”

Poe didn’t want to hear it and aimed her .357

Glock at her blonde head and pulled the trigger. She walked a quarter of a mile back to where she’d left Maple. The fighting was over.

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“You okay, Maple?”

“Yes.” The vampire smiled reassuringly. “What about you? You look like you’ve been shot in the head.”

“I was. By rocks.”

They waited for Sainvire. When he flew above them and landed on his feet, his face was a scowl. At least his fangs had shrunk back to their manageable size. He told them to continue back to the library. He was going to fly up and watch for any more of Trench’s people from the air. Then he was gone, swallowed up by the night.

(((

Every single part of her body ached – even down to her hair follicles. She burned with a fever and could barely swallow the delicious barley soup Janice had made. Her head and ear hurt so bad that even a smidge of light gave her a tremendous migraine. However, Maple insisted that one oil lamp stay lit in case she needed to go to the bathroom. One more trip or fall would have done her in. The single comfort she had was the opportunity to sleep in Sainvire’s soft bed again. She knew her occupation of the room would have to end, but since she was sick, Perla assuredly said that she could stay another night.

After a shower, Poe inspected the rock-inflicted wounds and winced. “I look like a demon trying to sprout horns,” she said about the discolored bumps on her temple. Her left ear was stitched, as the lower earlobe had been hanging by a thread of skin.

“No peridot earrings for me, thanks,” she told herself out loud.

Her naked torso bore silver dollar-size welts that were already turning blue. Without bothering to dry her 185

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hair, Poe slid under the sheets, wearing one of Sainvire’s black t-shirts and Perla’s voluminous pajama bottoms. Penny the dog was asleep on the divan, probably knocked out by painkillers. Lucky dog.

She wished somebody had given her something to kill the pain. Her sleep was brief before she felt a presence in the dark. The sole oil lamp that lit the room revealed Sainvire. Instinctively, Poe did not move, keeping her lids half open.

The vampire glided to the bathroom to minimize noise and gently shut the door behind him. Poe heard the shower running. Her heart thumped criminally. She didn’t see Sainvire go in with fresh clothes other than the soggy ones he wore. It was a relief to know that he didn’t have a dryer function under his clothes after all.

Could she actually be privy to a dead guy in the buff? Even though she felt a little unclean at the thought, Poe anticipated the possibility. She’d watched those crappy teenage flicks where 16-year-old girls were getting it on. I’m twenty-two, for goodness sakes.

“It’s between him and Morales,” Poe muttered about the men in her life.

But since Sainvire was closer and made her skin itch whenever he smiled at her, Poe wouldn’t mind an affair, if she could just get over her distaste for the undead.

Her entire body hurt like hell. Doing it with Sainvire would be too much like having an affair with Tarzan on the vine. She was in no mood to be jarred and hoisted.

I’ll just be a perv and sneak a peek, she told herself.

The vampire emerged from the bathroom, wearing only a towel around his waist. Poe could scarcely draw a breath. She studied him as if he was a rare butterfly and she an entomologist. He had the body of a day 186

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laborer that was marred by a twisted shoulder. She wondered how he had gotten such an injury.

Being a peeping tom proved to be too irresistible for Poe, particularly when he pulled the towel about his slim waist.

Poe couldn’t help it. She gasped. Sheer terror enveloped her from the slip, but the vampire didn’t seem to notice. She suddenly had the urge to pinch, touch, and explore. No male porn star ever looked like this!

“Are you enjoying yourself, Julia?” Sainvire asked, drying his upper body with the towel. He turned his back on Poe and presented her with his firm backside.

He knew that she was awake and devouring him with her eyes. Like it was going to make it better, Poe pulled the comforter over her head to hide her shame.

Sainvire chuckled at the sight of Poe hiding under the sheets. He put on a black t-shirt and straight-legged blue Dickies and approached the bed. He sat next to her.

“Will you face me or are you going to be immature about this whole thing?”

“Go away. I’m trying to sleep,” said Poe in a muted and scared voice. Sainvire pulled the comforter and blankets down and tried to catch Poe’s mortified gaze.

“Poe, look at me.”

Poe shook her head.

“You know, I should be the one offended since you practically molested me with your eyes.”

That did it. Poe’s eyes snapped open. “What do you want?”

“Aren’t you going to apologize?” he asked, his short black hair hanging wetly against his face.

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“What?” Poe almost yelled out. “You were the one walking around naked in my room.”

“I believe I have the right because this happens to be my room.”

“Fine. I’ll leave your room this instant.” Poe sat up and winced.

Sainvire put his hand gently on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it. You can stay here as long as you want.”

“Forget it, sicko!” Poe bellowed, pushing at his hand, the brief contact giving her goose bumps.

“Sicko?” Sainvire said with disbelief in his voice.

“If I remember correctly–”

“Shut up about it,” Poe burst. “So I looked. You were parading around naked like Harvey Keitel. Isn’t that human? So what if I peeked? You think I’ve seen real naked people before?”

Sainvire’s eyes widened, a grin quickly spreading.

“By the look on your face, Sister didn’t keep her trap shut. Look, I didn’t know porn was different from regular films until the nun told me, alright? I’m not a perv!”

“I didn’t say you were,” he said so gently that Poe was taken aback.

The vampire lost his grin and was staring at her lips like they were the last piece of pecan pie in the entire world. She couldn’t help it; she licked her cut lower lip from nervousness. This movement seemed to embolden the vampire further, and he gazed lustily at her eyes. With a feather-light finger, he touched the bump on her forehead then lowered his lips to kiss her injuries, even the two-day-old scratches. One by one.

Poe closed her eyes, trembling from fear, lust, pain and a combination of things she couldn’t explain.

When the kisses stopped, she opened her eyes to see Sainvire’s beautiful silver eyes that shone even in the 188

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semi-darkness. He looked at her with such need. Again she licked her lips and swallowed. What will he do with me? Will I be able to say no?

As if her fingers had a will of their own, her hand snaked up to touch his long eye lashes. They were so soft. Once the curiosity of her fingers was sated, they explored the cold skin of the vampire, touching cheekbones, nose, and lips. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant.

She traced the scar above his mouth, her fingers lingering on his full lips. Boldly she inserted a finger to trace his teeth and fangs then traveled down to his strong jaws.

Sainvire couldn’t take anymore of the girl’s exploring fingers. He touched her hair, still wet from the shower and caressed a curl. He lowered his mouth and kissed her partly open lips.

Poe had never experienced anything like this first kiss. It was like eating good hot food after living off expired canned sardines for a decade. The kiss started out slow then deepened into an urgent need to hold, clutch, and embrace. When his cold tongue penetrated her mouth, Poe balked, not because it was cold, but because it felt too different, foreign. It was like tonguing sashimi. All she’d ever had in her mouth was food, utensils, gum, and toothbrush.

With much reluctance, her mouth allowed tongueplay. The soft caresses of his hands as they explored her smooth tummy felt too much like cold cuts skimming her flesh. She would have been a liar to say she didn’t feel a thing. Sainvire’s large hand cupping her breast left a trail of cold heat on her body, but it wasn’t nearly scalding enough to let the matter go any further.

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Ann’s and Goss’ dead bodies suddenly raided her thoughts. It was too much, too soon. Poe broke the kiss, shoving Sainvire away. She breathed heavily as if she had been underwater too long.

“I’m sorry,” Sainvire apologized. “This isn’t exactly what I intended. I’m old enough to know better than to lose control.” The vampire forced a smile, albeit an apologetic one, and was gone.

I don’t know if I can sleep with something dead, she thought with a shiver under the blanket. It just feels wrong.