Here Be Sexist Vampires
Page 10

That made me laugh.
“What?”
“It’s just the idea of it. You having three women all living together just waiting for you to come along and have sex with them at your leisure, probably all at the same time. I’m actually offended that you think I’d be up for anything like that. Well, I don’t work well as part of a group, sorry.”
“Lots of vampires have consorts.”
“I know,” I said bitterly.
“You were one,” he realised.
“I won’t be again. If I slept with you when you’re the kind of person who has three women at your beck and call for sex then I’d feel no better than them.”
Jared ran a hand through his chestnut hair, releasing a breath with a long puff. “Sam, I -”
“Let’s just not talk about it anymore, alright. It would have been stupid to shag when we’ve got to work together anyway.”
Jared shrugged. “Okay, we won’t talk about it.”
I nodded and paced toward the door. Just as I reached it, I heard Jared’s voice in my head.
But you’ll still want me. And I’ll still want you. That won’t change.
Life’s full of changes, I replied as Fletcher unlocked the office door and I waltzed out.
(Jared)
A loud grunt escaped me when I sank into my office chair. I looked around the office at the mess that the scuffle, to put it lightly, had left in its path. Broken cabinets. Cracks in the plaster of the walls. Documents scattered everywhere.
Then my gaze fell on the spot on the floor where only moments ago I’d had Sam underneath me; my mouth on hers, my hands in her hair, teasing her tongue with my own, and tasting her skin. I’ll never know how I managed to reign myself in and not skate my hands over every single part of her; my control had completely shred when that blast of heat circulated through me on just kissing her. It’d felt even better than I’d imagined it would. She had felt even better than I’d imagined.
Then she had pushed me away.
Obviously she’d had to put up with a lot of shit from her Sire – that got me pissed. Sure it made sense that she wouldn’t want to be another consort if things had been that crap in the past. But I had the feeling that there was more to it than that. The emotion in her voice...It was like she didn’t like that I had consorts and didn’t want there to be anyone else. Could it actually be that she wanted me to herself? Maybe. I wouldn’t want to share her with anyone else whether it was casual sex or not.
Internally I slapped myself, wanting to stop stressing over a woman and hoping to just blank it all out for now. But I could still smell her on me. Still feel the burning that the heat of the moment had left behind. Still taste her skin on my tongue. And I knew then that I’d never be able to be around her without wanting her. Not great.
(Sam)
Fuck. Twat. Shit. Crap. Bollocks.
Each profanity burst through my mind as I clambered out of bed. I’d only been awake for ten seconds and a flashback of what had happened with Jared was all over me! Wasn’t everything supposed to feel better and clearer after a good sleep? If that was a rule, I was clearly an exception to it.
Two red grape flavoured NSTs later and I still felt like I’d spontaneously self-combust any second now. Maybe I should go back to bed. It’s not like the recruits had any intention of showing up at the arena anyway. I’d then have to set their backsides alight and I seriously doubted that Antonio would be okay with that.
Three pounding knocks on the door made me jump. “Sam, luv, it’s me.”
Fletcher. If anyone was capable of pulling me out of my irate state it was Fletch with his relaxed personality and funny ways. I opened the door to find him stood there with his hands on his h*ps and an eyebrow arched. “Um-hmm.”
“What?”
“I knew you’d procrastinate,” he said as he shrugged past me and marched through the apartment. Not exactly the relaxed, humorous bloke I was expecting.
Confused, I raced after him and found him in my bedroom flicking through one of my now full wardrobes. I’d unpacked my bags last night in pretty much a daze so I doubted that it was well organised.
Seconds later Fletcher thrust an outfit into my arms. “Dressed, lady, now.”
“I’m quite capable of picking myself something to wear, thanks. And since when do you have this right to order me about?”
“Since you and Jared had a fumble and you now want to hide in your room.” His expression dared me to deny it.
“We did not have a fumble. It was just a kiss.”
“So that’s why you’re so uptight? You didn’t actually get to the fumbling.”
“I’m not uptight.” We both giggled since my tone had contradicted my words. “Believe me when I say that I do not want a fumble with Jared, I think he’s a sexist pig.”
“That’s the thing, luv, I don’t believe you and there’s really no point in telling me porky pies because I’m an Empath.”
Oh. Empaths could sense the emotions of people near to them, which meant he’d been able to sense how much I’d wanted Jared last night. Suddenly I felt extremely vulnerable and embarrassed.
“Look, luv, I know it’s not my place to say, but I’m going to say it anyway – and I say this with love – you’re being a silly little mare if you’re going to hide from some bloke.”
“It’s not just Jared, alright,” I said tiredly as my bottom sunk into the bed. “The recruits wouldn’t come to training yesterday. They don’t think they need my help.”
“They’re Jared’s arrogant spawn, that’s why. Listen, you can’t take it personally. Blokes never like taking orders off women, especially if those women are more powerful than they are. Like you, they’ve escaped the hold of their Sires and their past and they’re making the most of it. Plus, they’re probably stuck up their own arses too just because they got picked for the legion, thinking they’re too sexy for their shirts.”
Fletcher said more but I’d stopped listening; certain things he had said were stringing together in my mind and an idea was slowly forming. A triumphant grin must have surfaced on my face because Fletcher looked at me oddly.
“What?” he said dubiously. At some point he’d sat beside me on the bed while I was in deep thought.
I kissed his cheek. “You’re a genius, that’s what.”
I relayed my little plan to Fletcher while I slipped on the outfit he had selected for me: a tight pink vest and pair of tight white khakis (most things he had picked me were tight). As the vest never quite reached my h*ps and the khakis hung just below them, this left a belt of bare skin on show – enough so that my belly button silver diamond ring could be seen.
“Well you’ll certainly get the recruits’ attention,” said Fletcher approvingly as he examined my appearance. “And once you put your creative plan in place they’ll be on their knees begging for forgiveness and your help.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I giggled.
“Luv, you’re gorgeous and they don’t see a lot of women around here. Trust me when I say they’ll be drooling.”
When I entered my office I was confused for a few seconds to find some blokes inside wearing white overalls that were stained with paint. Then I realised they’d probably spent hours in here fixing the plasterwork and replacing the broken filing cabinets. Oops. They seemed to be repressing giggles as they left. I suppose it wasn’t hard to gather that Jared and I had been duelling again.
While Fletcher was busy doing the research that I’d requested, I carefully examined the personal files of the recruits. They had been waiting nicely on my bureau for me. Maybe Jared had had an attack of conscience. Unlikely.
The first file belonged to a Pagori vampire named Reuben, who was originally French. He was Turned at the age of thirty and had been a vampire for sixty years. Aptitude tests showed him to not be the brightest bulb, but he certainly made up for it in the physical department; he was by far the strongest and was built like a body builder. He had shoulder-length brown hair and a beard of stubble that added to the wild look. His gift was power augmentation, meaning that he could weaken or strengthen the gift of another.
The second file showed a half American half Australian Pagori vampire, Stuart, who had been eighteen when Turned over thirty years ago. Average intelligence, average height and weight. His curly fair hair tickled his broad shoulders and he had a wide, clown-like smile. Like an old vampire friend of mine, he was a Shredder: his gift allowed him to disband until he was nothing but molecules and then reform again at will.
Next was the thorn-exhaling vampire from the tryout. Chico was Spanish in origin. Although the dark haired, moustache-wearing Keja was a little on the podgy side he was physically just as able as the others, and was the smartest of the squad. Apparently the poison in the thorns caused the victim to instantly lose consciousness for a period of up to five hours. How delightful.
File number four was of a Pagori vampire – also at my tryout – from Miami, Robert Richardson, who went by the name Butch. His photograph showed him to have an extremely smart appearance, especially with his slicked back bronze hair, but his dark eyes and crooked grin spelled wildness. He was well built in the upper body area and had notable speed. Butch was a Negator: he could completely cancel out any power aimed at him.
Oh next was Slap-head; an army brat who had spent his childhood moving constantly round the US. At the age of twenty-six he had been Turned and had been a vampire for just over twenty years. Like Butch, he was notably fast. His weakness, however, was in his agility. On his photograph he had the same cheeky, warm smile that he’d flashed me at the tryout – oh and a nicely defined upper body. I could remember how he had completely paralysed the senses of his opponent in the tryout.
Recruit number six was especially interesting, and not just because he was British like me. David was a Keja vampire and the youngest of the squad; Turned at seventeen and had only been a vampire for three years (same vampire life-span as me). He was tall and grey-eyed with copper, dishevelled hair. He didn’t have much to boast off with regards to strength and speed, but he had an amazing power to attack an opponent with: a psionic boom, something which caused extreme pressure on the skull and completely overwhelmed the brain, leading to either a temporary coma or death depending on the strength of the blast.
The seventh file concerned an African-American, excessively muscled Pagori named Damien who was only a year older in vampire years than David and me, and was Turned when twenty-four. He was apparently the fastest of the squad and excellent at one-to-one combat. Damien’s gift was Astral Projection, but apparently his consciousness wasn’t able to travel far from his body.
Eighth in the squad was a blonde Pagori born in Ireland whose birth name was Edward but went by the nickname Salem. I definitely wanted to know how he came by that. Turned at the age of thirty-six just over forty-eight years ago, Salem was tall and brown-eyed with incredible strength despite that his physique wasn’t a statue of pure defined muscle. His gift enabled him to emit an invisible blast of psychic energy that could render an opponent completely unconscious. Basically, he had a psychic punch.
Next was a very exotic looking American Pagori, Harvey, who I thought was over-muscled for his short size. He was just nineteen when Turned just under twelve years ago. His strength was higher than average but his intelligence left something to be desired. He was quite cute with his child-like smile and short dark hair that looked more like pure silk. Harvey was telekinetic; which meant that he would be able to move something or someone without physically touching it.
Lastly was Dennis, or Denny, who was an American Pagori vampire from a tiny rural town with a very innocent appearance; scruffy dark hair, blue guiltless eyes and a dimply smile. His athletic physique didn’t do his strength and speed justice. He also had the best reflexes of all the recruits. A vampire for over seventy years, Denny had been twenty when Turned. I’d never encountered anyone with the gift of animal mimicry before so I was eager to see which animal-like abilities he had up his sleeve.
Fletcher proved to be fantastic with researching. No sooner had I finished consulting the files than he had handed me the list of contacts that I had asked him to find. I then made call after call to conduct my own research on the recruits as part of my little plan, jotting down plenty of notes. Before lunch had even begun I had all the information I wanted and was feeling very optimistic and very pleased with myself. Until Jared teleported to the office.
“So you went through the files,” he observed, nodding toward the untidy pile on my desk.
“Yeah,” I replied simply. Oh he was looking way too gorgeous in that knee-length leather jacket. He knew that I thought so, going by the smug smirk he wore. God I had to get out of this room. “Fletch?” I called out while I gathered my notes together.
His adorable face popped through the door seconds later. “Yes, luv?”
“I’m off to get some NSTs. You want me to pick you up anything?”
Fletcher squinted. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“Yes or no, Fletch?”
“Honey flavoured ones please, luv. Oh and could you get me some snacks as well?”
“Yeah, course.” I folded my notes and tucked into the pocket of my khakis. Not that I thought I’d need them. I was reasonably sure that I had all the details memorised.
“You’re not going to ask me if I want anything?” griped Jared.
“Nope.”
He sighed. “Listen, if you want I can have a word with the guys and tell them to get their acts together and start listening to you.”