Vampires: The Recent Undead (15 page)

He made it halfway to the bar before Rudy pointed me out to him. The guy stopped. He looked at me. He looked some more.

Obviously I wasn’t what he expected. Unfortunately, he was exactly what I expected—scruffy, stringy hair, wild eyes. Toronto doesn’t get a lot of new supernaturals and those who do emigrate are usually on the run from trouble south of the border. I only hoped José didn’t want me to fix that trouble for him. I’m a thief, not an assassin, but I’ve had more than one client imply that it shouldn’t make a difference. Vampires kill; therefore, they should have no compunction about doing it for money.

José walked to my table. “Zoe Takano?”

I motioned to the chair across from me.

“It’s uh, about a job,” he said.

I motioned at the chair again.

His gaze skittered about the bar. “Shouldn’t we, uh, take this outside?”

“Does anyone in here look like an undercover cop?”

He gave a nervous chuckle. “I guess not.”

Actually, the hulking half-demon in the corner was one, but we had an understanding.

“Tell me what you have in mind,” I said. “Just leave out the details until I’ve agreed.”

It was a theft, something about a ring. I didn’t pay much attention because after two lines of his story, I knew there was no job. That’s when he turned to call a drink order to Rudy, and his hair swung off his neck, revealing the ghosts of a half-dozen puncture wounds.

Vamp freak.

Just as there are humans who get off on bloodletting, there are supernaturals who do, too. The difference is that supernaturals don’t need to find someone to play vampire for them. They can get a real one.

In Toronto, there weren’t any vamp freaks. There was no point. I was the only vampire here.

I let José natter on, then set my beer aside. “You’re right. Let’s take this outside.”

He jumped up so fast he set the table wobbling. Rudy stood at the bar, scowling, José’s drink in hand.

“Pay the man,” I said.

José opened his wallet and stared in confusion at the multicolored bills.

“This one’s pretty,” I said, plucking out a red fifty. I handed it to Rudy, mouthing for him to apply the extra to my tab. Then I waved José out of the bar.

I led José to an alley two blocks over. He trailed at my heels even when I said he could walk beside me. Someone had him trained well. I shivered and briefly wondered who.

I got far enough down the alley to be hidden from the street, then turned sharply.

“No,” I said.

“No?”

“I’m not interested.”

“In the job? I thought—”

He stopped as I moved in, getting so close our clothing brushed. Then I lifted onto my tiptoes. I didn’t say a word. Just gave him the look. His pupils dilated. His heart raced, the sound of it echoing through the alley, the sight of it pulsing in his neck making my fangs lengthen. He let out a groan and shifted forward, his erection rubbing my leg.

I stepped back. “That’s what I meant. And the answer is no.”

“Please? Just a bite. Just a taste.”

I swallowed my revulsion. My fangs retracted. As I took another step back, a crackle sounded behind me. A foot treading on trash.

He kept babbling. “I’m a clean-living Druid. Totally clean. No booze. No dope. No cigarettes. I haven’t even taken aspirin in months.”

“And do you know what all that healthy living is going to get you? A comfy berth in the morgue.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m always careful. I know what it feels like when you have to stop. I have a safe word—”

“Which works just fine until it’s time for your master’s annual kill. That’s how it ends, José. That’s how it always ends. So take my advice and find a human playmate who’ll bite your neck for you and—”

I spun, my kick connecting with the kneecap of a hulking figure behind me. Another spin, another kick—this one to the back of her knee—and she went down.

The woman lying on the ground was at least six-foot-two and well-muscled. A flaxen-haired Amazon. Admittedly, I have a weakness for strong blondes, but I knew drag queens who could pass for female more easily than this woman.

“Brigid Drescher, I presume,” I said. “Pleased to meet you.”

She snarled, spittle speckling my boots. I bent to wipe it off, then spun fast, fists and foot flying up. The dark-ponytailed vampire sneaking up behind me raised his hands.

“Hey, Hans,” I said. “It’s been a while.”

Forty years, give or take a decade. Last time I saw Hans, he was still going by his real name: John. Now I kicked myself for not figuring out who “owned” José. If his rechristening didn’t give it away, his costume should have. Last I heard, Hans was on an Anne Rice kick, but apparently he’d progressed to Underworld gear. Either that or he spent his off-hours in a bordello.

As Brigid got to her feet, he turned to her. “I told you there wasn’t any use trying to trick Zoe.”

Brigid brushed off her leather corset. “I thought you said she didn’t fight.”

“Only in self-defense. Isn’t that right, Zoe?”

I ignored his mocking lilt and managed a perky smile. “You got it. So what brings you two to Toronto?” I had an idea, and hoped I was wrong.

“José,” Brigid said before Hans could answer.

She snapped her fingers, and motioned the vamp freak to her side. He pretended not to notice and kept slinking closer to me. I sidestepped. He slunk. Sidestepped. Slunk.

Hans laughed. “I think your boy found something he likes better, Brig. Sorry, José, but you’re not Zoe’s type. Or gender.”

José frowned, taking a moment to get it. Then he smiled and sidled closer.

“Go,” I said, flicking my fingers at him. “Shoo.”

“José!” Brigid barked.

He slid a look her way, shuddered and wriggled closer to me. Brigid strode over and grabbed him, yelping, by the collar.

“When I tell you to come, you come.”

His gaze shunted my way, and Brigid’s head shot down to his neck, fangs sinking in. I started to say this wasn’t the time for a snack. Then Brigid’s head ripped back, a chunk of José’s neck in her teeth, arterial blood spurting against the wall. She dropped him and spat out the flesh. José convulsed on the ground, gasping and jerking, hands pressed to his neck, eyes rolling as he tried to stop the flow.

I looked down at him, knowing there was nothing I could do, feeling the old serpent of rage uncoil in my gut. My gaze shot to Brigid but, at the last second, I wrenched it away and turned aside.

“What’s the matter, Takano?” Brigid said. “Don’t like the sight of blood?”

I counted to five, until the serpent relaxed and slid back into hiding. Then I turned and smiled.

“I have a weak stomach, what can I say?”

José lay on his back now, sightless eyes staring up.

“Well, that was a waste,” Hans said, stepping away as the blood seeped toward his boots. “You really need to control your temper, Brig.”

“Can we get this conversation over with?” I said. “I’d really rather not be found standing over a dead body.” I kept my gaze on Hans, my tone light. “And I do hope you plan to clean this mess up. It’s terribly bad form to leave bodies in another vamp’s town.”

“That’s what we’re here to talk about,” he said. “Your town.”

“It’s not yours anymore,” Brigid said.

That’s what I was afraid they were here for. Hans and his little gang had lived in New Orleans. From what I’d heard, they’d been thrilled when Hurricane Katrina hit—a chaos-gripped city makes for easy pickings. But after a year, they’d realized trailer park life really wasn’t their style. Since then, they’d been hunting for a new place to settle.

“So you’re looking at Toronto?” I laughed. “Seriously? Sure, it’s a world-class city, multicultural, blah, blah. But it’s Toronto. There’s a reason a third-rate vamp like me lives here. No one else wants it. Long cold winters. Hot humid summers. Smog so thick you can taste it. Taxes are outrageous, and for what? Free health care? Like we need that.”

“You aren’t going to give us any trouble, are you, Zoe?”

His voice was smooth and soft, but there was an arrogant tilt to his chin and a condescending twist to his words.

For a moment, I reveled in the visions of what I would have done if he’d said those words a hundred years ago. A vampire’s invulnerability makes it difficult to inflict any sensation like pain. But there are ways. And I know them all.

“You’re welcome to fight for your territory.” Brigid strolled over to stand beside Hans. “But I hear you’re a bit of a coward.”

“Coward is a strong word.”

She walked up until she stood so close I could see a shred of José’s skin caught between her teeth. Then she took another step and towered over me.

“Is it?” she said.

I sidestepped to face Hans. “I’ll be gone by Friday.”

I was born Kioko Takano in 1863. My name meant “happy child” and I fulfilled its promise. My life was unremarkable. I was a cheerful girl with loving parents, who grew into a cheerful young woman with a loving fiancé.

A month before my wedding, a group of missionaries came to our village. One of them was Jane Bowman, a blond English girl not much older than myself. When I met her, I realized why, as dearly as I cared for my fiancé, I could feel no more passion for him than for a brother.

I fell in love with Jane. Madly, desperately in love. She was so vibrant and brilliant and worldly, all the things I was not. I soon learned why she had so much experience for her youth—she was a hundred-year-old vampire. I didn’t care. It only made her more exotic and wonderful. I loved her. She loved me. Nothing else mattered.

I ran away with Jane. The next few years were glorious. Then came my twentieth birthday and, for it, she offered me the gift of eternal life. Become a vampire. Be young forever. Be with her forever.

I refused. She wheedled, pleaded, begged. I refused. She called me a coward. I laughed and refused.

Being a gracious hostess, I offered to show Hans and Brigid around Toronto before I left. I’d introduce them to the supernatural community and make the transition easy. For a fee, of course.

We had to wait until after dark. Apparently, Hans was sensitive to daylight. He seemed to think this made him a more authentic vampire. I thought it made him an idiot.

And I wasn’t the only one. Rudy got one look at the pair, dressed like they were heading to a BDSM convention, and marched into the back room. He emerged only when I hopped over the bar and helped myself to a beer.

“Not until you pay your tab, Zoe.” He plucked the bottle from my hand. “And if you think you’re cutting town and not paying? I will hunt you down and rip that pretty little—”

“I’ll pay. Just give me a couple weeks to settle into my new place.”

Rudy put the beer back and turned to Hans. “You’re the new vamps Zoe told me about?”

Hans glanced about us, but it was early and the only patron in Miller’s was passed out, probably from the night before.

“Yes,” Hans said. “We’ll be taking over—”

Rudy slapped a paper onto the bar. “Pay her tab.”

Brigid snorted. “We aren’t going to—”

“You ever want to set foot in this place again?” Rudy asked.

Hans looked around. “Not particularly.”

“You want to take Zoe’s place in this city? Be part of the community?”

“We aren’t really joiners.”

Rudy stuffed the tab into his pocket. “Fine. Just remember, we’ve got over a hundred sorcerers, witches, half-demons, necromancers and shamans in this city, and the only vampire they’ve ever known is Zoe. Now, if a real vampire comes to town, it’s going to make folks nervous—”

“How much?” Hans said.

“Seven-hundred and eighty-two dollars.”

Hans pivoted to me. “How much do you drink?”

“One beer a night. It’s the paying part that gives me trouble.”

“Make it an even grand and you’ll get my personal seal of approval,” Rudy said.

Hans sighed, pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and peeled off the bills.

As Rudy counted them, he said, “My first piece of advice? Make sure this one—” He pointed at me. “—shows you the ropes.”

“That’s what I’m doing.”

He met my gaze. “All of them.”

“What do you mean?” Brigid asked.

Rudy looked at her. “Toronto has its peculiarities.”

“Like the transit system,” I said. “Buses, subways, street cars, high-speed trains to the suburbs.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s so confusing. Let’s go check out the subways now.”

I hustled them off, leaving Rudy glaring after me.

Back when I’d refused to become a vampire, Jane had invited me to a weekend with her undead friends. To persuade me, she teased. Only there was to be no persuasion. Just a conversion.

Like Jane, most vampires inherit the genes and are reborn on death. There is a second way to become one, but the process is horrific. They say you can’t force it on another person. They’re wrong.

Months later, when Jane and her friends finished with me, I was half mad. But I was a vampire. She expected me to be grateful. Hadn’t she proven how much she loved me, to what lengths she’d go to keep me?

I killed her. As slow and horrible a death as my own conversion. When she was finally gone, I hunted down her friends. Then I slaughtered their human servants and thralls.

Next stop on our Toronto tour: Trinity Church.

As I walked to the front doors, Hans and Brigid stopped short, earning choice words from the stream of shoppers exiting the mall next door.

“What is that?” Brigid said.

“The Church of the Holy Trinity. Pretty, isn’t it?”

They stared at me. I reached through the open doors and wiggled my fingers.

“See any smoke yet? I hope not. I really like this jacket.”

When they didn’t answer, I walked in and waved my arms. A homeless guy circled warily around me.

“We are not going in there,” Brigid said.

“Suit yourself.”

In the side courtyard, I found a dark-skinned fortyish guy in a gym shirt and sweat pants tending to one of the regulars who refused to set foot in a building. I led Hans and Brigid around to him.

“You need to have that tooth pulled, Frank,” Randy was telling the old man, who was dressed in ten layers of clothes despite the warm night. “A dentist should do it, but I will if you want.”