Chapter One

I am standing in the shower trying to wash blood off my hands when I realize that there are bits of something in my hair.  I just don’t think the average Jane comes home, hops in the shower, and picks pieces of someone else’s brain out of their hair.  I am tired, I am sore, and I just don’t have the energy to pick up the phone to call for takeout.  This is when I am jealous of women who have a husband or boyfriend who has dinner waiting when they work late.

I had a real job once.  I used to punch a time clock just like most normal people.  Nowadays I go home smelling like the copper of blood or, if I’ve had a particularly wonderful night, of burnt flesh.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking to quit or anything.  In a sick and twisted way, I kind of love my job.  What cubicle dwelling Dilbert gets the satisfaction of knowing he has personally rid the world of one more suck face? I just have bad days at the office like everyone else.  I’m sure somewhere there is some poor fool chanting, “I hate my job, I hate my job” as I plant a stake through another baddie’s chest.

I guess I should feel lucky in a way.  Sure, I will never have a 401K or a pension, I don’t have health benefits, unless you count knowing a few werewolf doctors who owe me, but I certainly have never had to put up with bean counters or working for a jerk with a Napoleon complex telling me I don’t know how to do my job.  If anyone tries to get in my face, I get to smack them around.  It’s kind of gratifying to have that kind of power when you are only 5’3″ and 110 pounds.

Too bad my full-time job doesn’t pay the bills, though.  You would think that ridding the world of vampires and other supernatural bad asses would pay real well, but at the moment it’s kind of pro-bono.  When the vamps had their big coming out party five years ago, the demand for professional slayers fell out.  When it is suddenly cool to be a vampire no one wants to pay you to kill them.  I have to pay rent like everyone else so people with my particular skill set usually end up in security.

I had a pretty good gig watching over a particular business man in Miami.  He had a lot of money but not a lot of brains so his father hired me to make sure he didn’t accidentally kill himself at the club.  I was basically his babysitter.  If Joseph Weiss, Jr. decided to do too much smack or got held up by the hooker he hired that night, it was my job to rescue him or make sure he got the right medical attention.  I hated that kid.  I have never before, nor have I since, secretly wished one of my clients would die so I could move on with my life.  I had a lot of respect for Mr. Weiss, Sr. who clearly loved his son and wanted to do right by him, but baby Joey just spit in his face.  Thankfully, the senior Weiss realized that his spawn was never going to move beyond needing a full time nanny at the age of 35 and let me go with his blessing.

This brought me to my current train wreck, Lindsay Portman.  How can I describe Lindsay?  Is she just an addict?  Is she a misunderstood genius?  Or is she a talentless hack looking for her 15 minutes?  I really don’t know how to answer that other than to say her father is too busy cashing her paychecks to care whether or not I ensure she makes her 5:00 am call on set.

This is when I start to consider the paycheck versus the actual impact I am having on my current employer’s life.  Lindsay is a bit of a head case, for sure.  If she had a real mother and father like the ones she probably thought she had, she would be in her first year of college and not her first year of waking up in a stranger’s multimillion dollar home asking me who she screwed that night.  It’s not like I want to adopt the girl or anything, but really, at what point to do you drive to her father’s house, put a 9 mm in his mouth, and tell him to stop pimping out his daughter? 

I get paid a ludicrous amount of money to look the other way while Lindsay parties with anyone who looks in her direction.  If I was someone who was just desperate to pay the bills, I am sure that would be enough but, that isn’t it.  I am either just too trusting, too honest, or too naïve to take the money and run.  I have taken the time to get to know Lindsay because, quite frankly, in the beginning, I thought I needed to know the difference between her saying “no” and meaning it and saying “no” to string along some rich tool because if I stepped in too soon, she would run home whining to Daddy.  In the last year, I have learned that getting to know my charge meant that I started to care about her.  Maybe it’s because we both had mothers who walked out when we were still kids.  Maybe it’s because she is smart and funny and I believe that if given the chance she could really make something of herself.  Maybe it’s just because I was never given that chance and, I’ll admit, I have anger issues I have yet to resolve.  Maybe it’s because my real job consists of killing vampires and other rogue supernaturals at night and I am just particularly bitchy because I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in over a year.  Or maybe I just need to get out more.  Who knows?

Tonight started like most nights with me escorting Lindsay to Monique’s, a club downtown she frequents when she wants to be seen.  I cleared the upstairs bar so her entourage could be seen by the little people downstairs but she didn’t have to actually interact with any of them.  She and her BFF of the moment barked a few drink orders at the waiter who rushed over with the enthusiasm of a puppy.  The music was loud enough to discourage conversation so when the alcohol started flowing, the groupies started dancing and, like always, a few half naked drunk girls are enough to draw the attention of a few paparazzi.

Lindsay has two guys who look the part of the bad-ass security detail.  They are very good at scaring away the average punk who tries to push his way into her private parties.  They are both built like trucks but, they tend to be dumber than a box of rocks.  Together they are pretty intimidating with both standing at 6’1” and around 240 pounds.  Mike looks like your typical ex-Marine with his blonde hair buzzed tight against his scalp.  Jaden is everything you imagine when you read tall, dark, and handsome.  He used to wear his hair in dreads, but Mr. Portman thought they would look more professional with the same haircut.  Jaden loved his hair so I am sure an early Christmas bonus was arranged to encourage his change in style.

I was hired to be the brains behind the brawn.  The fact that I am trained in martial arts and have a concealed weapons permit got me the interview with Lindsay’s father.  The fact that I can pass for one of her groupie friends is what got me the job.  The boys know I run the show and are very good at not letting their egos get bruised when I sweep a room rather than letting them handle it.  Of course the fact that I tossed Mike on his ass when he referred to me as “sweet cheeks” on my first day encouraged them to see things my way.

So, the music was pumping, the girls were grinding, and Mike was focused on their assets rather than on the vamp ascending the stairs.  I smelled him before I saw him.  He wore the copper scent of blood like cologne so I knew he had recently fed.  Most vampires only need to feed once or twice a week.  The old ones can go months while Master Vampires can go an entire year.  I know the books and the movies say it needs to be every night, but since the vampires went public, we have all been educated on just how imaginative some of those writers were.  This vamp was here for the party and he only had eyes for Lindsay.  He was quite stunning with his dark brown hair just long enough to barely touch his pale, purple eyes.  He was like a supermodel with his tall, fit body, and sporting a black satin Armani shirt and black slacks.  I am sure at first glance you would wonder what movie you had seen him in or if he was in a band you forgot the name of.  He had that hungry look a sleazy car salesman gets when he spots a good mark.  Since he wasn’t here for food I knew he wasn’t a threat, but with his boy band good looks and the fact that his clothes were worth more than my car I knew he would be just the kind of notch Lindsay would want on her wall and I wasn’t going to allow that.

“Hey, do I know you?”  I said, doing my best star-struck fan impression and stepping in to block his view of Lindsay.  Normally, I can distract even the hungriest of fans with my emerald green eyes, fiery red hair, and fit body.

“No, I don’t think so,” he tried pushing past me.  His focus shifted from Lindsay to me with a look of confusion when I didn’t move a muscle.

I dropped my voice to a cold and icy tone, “I didn’t think so.  This is a private party for invited guests only.”  I indicated the stairs behind him.

“Oh, I am certain I will get an invitation.”  The cockiness in his voice returned when he caught Lindsay’s eye.  He put his hands on my arms to try to push me aside.  I gave him an almost flirty smile while he attempted to move me out of the way.  His smile faded when he realized his strength was getting him nowhere as I continued not to budge.

I shifted so I was directly in his line of sight and locked my eyes with his.  “I don’t think you understand, what was your name, again?”

“Victor.”  The way he said his name was like velvet.  It’s a trick the vamps use on victims to convince them they are safe and everything is going to be just fine.  Unfortunately for Victor, as a slayer, I am immune to it.  That Victor was clueless to the fact his charms would never work on me told me he was new.  He was probably only about a year or two old at most and his Master was doing a piss poor job of teaching him how things work.  That told me he was also new in town.  The Master Vampire of the City would not be doing a piss poor job of anything.  LA’s Master was a recent transplant from Europe named Charles.  He was at least two centuries old, young for a Master of the City but, I heard that he was a duke or something back in England when he was alive so when he crossed over a lot of the clout went with him.

Smiling my slyest smile I said, “How very nice to meet you, Victor.  I’ll tell Miss Portman that you stopped by.  If you give me your address I will have her send you an autographed photo.”

“I think I can get that I,” he said winking, “now get out of my way.”  I’ll give the kid credit, he pushed with impressive force against my shoulder but, the shock didn’t have time to reach his face when I snatched his wrist from my shoulder and twisted it painfully quick, driving him to his knees before I had a chance to snap it.  The party skidded to a halt as Lindsay and her posse stopped what they were doing and stared at us, practically with their jaws to the ground.  That seemed to send a shock into Mike and Jaden because they suddenly flanked Lindsay.  I guess a vamp trying to shove me out of the way is what it takes to get those two to focus on their job.

“Victor,” I whispered into his ear as I crouched down to meet him, “you must be new so let me tell you how this works.  You go visit the Master of the City and he will explain to you who you can play with and who you can’t.  I’ll save you the trip on this one; Lindsay’s mine.  Now back off or I will make sure the rest of your night isn’t quite as pleasant as this has been.”

“Is there a problem, Ms. Keating?” a very smooth, British voice said from behind me.

Without lifting my lips from Victor’s ear I said, “Not at all, Charles.  Victor was just leaving.  Weren’t you, Victor?”  I twisted his wrist up, leading him back to his feet as I stood slowly to face Charles, dressed in a very Bond black suit with his grey silk shirt unbuttoned at the top.  If he hadn’t been born in the 1800’s I would swear he was the model Ian Fleming based his books on.  His blonde hair was combed back and his ice blue eyes pierced mine with obvious anger.  He had a body guard flanking him on each side and a small entourage of young women behind him.  The body guards were vamps, the women were snacks.

“I don’t believe I know your friend, Ms. Keating.  Perhaps you could introduce us?”  Charles was obviously not pleased that young Victor had ignored protocol and had not asked permission to enter his city.  Victor was either a rogue who didn’t know any better or he was a plant from another power-hungry vamp hoping to overthrow the current vampire government.

“Of course,” I said, staring into the younger vamp’s eyes.  “Charles, this is Victor.  Victor, please meet Charles, Master of the City of Los Angeles.”

Victor immediately dropped back to a knee and bowed his head to Charles as was customary when meeting vampire royalty, “My lord, it is my honor to finally meet you.”  Victor’s attitude certainly had changed from cocky rich boy to sniveling peasant very quickly.

“The pleasure is mine, dear boy.  Why don’t you leave these young ones to their frivolity and join my party.  I tire of this modern music and I can assure you there is much sweeter fare to be had.  You will be my guest.”  It was clear that it wasn’t a request and the tone in his voice made even my spine shiver. 

I think for a moment Victor actually contemplated refusing Charles, but he must have thought better because, after stopping the involuntary sneer that snuck up, he nodded deeply and said, “Of course, My Lord, nothing would bring me greater pleasure.”

The two body guards appeared suddenly on each side of us and took Victor by his arms, leading him away from me and toward the stairs.  It is always a little freaky when the vamps do that.  My speed is just about set to theirs but it is very disturbing when you aren’t expecting it.  If you aren’t paying attention they can go from still as a statue to right on top of you quicker than you can blink.

Charles watched his men escorting Victor down the stairs without moving.  “I appreciate you trying to set the young man straight, Ms. Keating, but vampire protocol is best left to vampires.”

“Vampires who try to snack on my client are my business, Charles” I said without moving my eyes from his stare.  It always unnerves vamps when I can look them in the eye without backing down.  Humans can’t do that.  If a vamp locks eyes with a human, the human either backs down or becomes so seduced that they are virtually a slave.

“Touché, Ms. Keating.  Please, forgive Victor’s rudeness.  I insist on paying for your client’s drinks,” he said without blinking.  The really old ones sometimes forget to blink but Charles just liked to do that to psych people out.  He clearly had forgotten who he was dealing with.

“Not necessary, Charles, there was no harm done.  What will you do with him?”  I had my suspicions that Victor would never again see the light of the moon but I wanted to ensure that Charles knew that I knew that.

“Again, vampire business, Ms. Keating.  If your services are required I know how to reach you,” he said and then turned toward Lindsay.  “Please, accept my apologies, Miss Portman,” and he bowed in a gentlemanly old-world way.  Lindsay almost curtsied in response.  This scene was so surreal.  Charles turned and headed for the stairs with his gaggle of girls following him.

When he was finally out of sight, Mike and Jaden backed away from Lindsay and the tall tales started flying about how close everyone had come to death.  More drinks were brought over by our waiter and it was as if nothing had ever happened.  I was just thankful the paparazzi knew better than to photograph Charles because trying to quash those photos would have been more difficult than taking on his bodyguards.

“Just another day at the office,” Jaden said as he sidled up to me.

“No, a normal day would be me staking the guy for being such an ass and violating protocol.  It’s not every day I get to talk to the Master of the City, though.  I wonder what he was doing out of his compound on a Friday night.”

“What every other man does.  He was picking up chicks,” Jaden said without a hint of humor.

“Chicks?  Really?  Is that what you call them?  What are you, Fonzie?”  That actually got a smile out of him.  I had worked with Jaden for almost two years and not once had I seen the man smile.  If I hadn’t tested him myself I would swear he was a vamp.  He had the emotional spectrum of a tree.