Leader of the Pack (73 page)

MERCY

Mercy was a typical lesbian in life - at least, that’s what her beloved, dearly departed Dee always said - but she’s definitely not a typical vampire. Mercy, known as Mary in her former life, is now secretly in love with Angie, her roommate, whose profession as a hospice nurse has taken Mercy on an unusual path in her journey as the undead. Like her acquired name, comes as a dark angel of mercy, delivering eternal life to the dying–but will Mercy’s mission of compassion serve to save the one woman she loves most in the world?

Warnings: This title contains graphic language, sex and elements of horror.

Excerpt From
MERCY:

In life, she was a dyke with a mullet who drove a pickup and listened to the Indigo Girls and did just what a typical lesbian would, at least that’s what Dee always said. In death, Mercy wasn’t that much different, although she’d scrapped the mullet for a sandy crew cut which, she’d discovered, wouldn’t ever grow back. That whole hair and fingernails growing after you’re dead thing was apparently just an urban legend. She’d learned the hard way. There wasn’t a www.snopes.com for vampires.

“
What the fuck is this crap, Ang?” Mercy shoved the Styrofoam box onto the counter and continued to dig through the fridge. “It smells like raw fish.”

“
Raw fish.” Angie grabbed the box and tossed it into the trash. “Sushi. Sorry, forgot about it.”

Mercy made a face, finding what she was looking for at the back. “The stuff you eat is digesting.”

Angie raised her eyebrows, tucking her long Marsha Brady hair behind her ears as Mercy poured herself a mug of red fluid. “Um… pot, kettle?”

“
I don’t eat.” Into the microwave went the mug and back went the container into the fridge. “I drink. There’s a difference.”

“
I’ll say,” Angie laughed, nudging Mercy with her hip on her way to another cup of coffee. “Please remember, back of the fridge. If Ray finds blood in my refrigerator while he’s looking for a beer, Lucy’s gonna have some ’splainin’ to do.”

“
Fucking Ray.” The microwave beeped and Mercy swore as she grabbed the hot ceramic handle. “Oops, I forgot, you like him this week, right?”

Angie gave her a cool look, taking her black coffee back to the table to sit with her paper in the early morning light coming through the apartment’s wide door wall. She had the blinds partially open, and the balcony gave them a nearly perfect view of the San Fran Bay and the bridge, the very reason Mercy and Dee had chosen the apartment five years before. That was when Mercy could watch a sunrise.

She transferred her steaming mug as quickly as she could to the table, blowing on her fingers the whole way and swearing, “Fuck hot fuck fuck hot!”

“
It’s all I ask, Ang.” She sighed, pulling the blinds a little further closed. “I’d rather not turn into a crispy critter in my own kitchen.”

“
Sorry,” the blonde murmured over the rim of her cup. “I like the light.”

Mercy snorted and blew the steam off her mug. Blood heated much more quickly than any liquid she knew. “Must be nice.”

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