Undead and Unemployed
Chapter 11

"But why do I have to be bait?" I whined.
"Well, you fit the profile."
"What, I'm a vampire?"
"Yes," Monique said.
"I'm the only vampire who can do this?"
"Yes," Tina said.
"I don't care for this idea myself," Sinclair said. Yay, Sinclair!
"If I'm bait, that will seem awfully suspicious," Tina said. "The same with Monique. We barely got away, but now we're strolling around, unconcerned? Unlikely. And Eric, you're a little too formidable to be really good bait."
"Thank you," he said.
"Barf," I said. "Aren't there any other vampires you can pick on?"
"Well, there's Sarah... but she keeps pretty much to herself. She has for the last fifty years."
"Who's S-"
"And... you are the queen," Monique interrupted apologetically. "It's sort of your responsibility."
"Scratch the 'sort of'," Tina replied, "and replace it with 'entirely'."
"Whatever happened to 'they will come over you over my dead body, your Majesty?' I mean, jeez, that was only three months ago."
"That was different," Tina said with maddening calm. "You were unaware of your responsibilities then."
"Oh, blow me. Okay, okay, I'll do it. I assume I'll have back-up?"
"Of course!" Monique said warmly. I smiled at her. At last, someone who appeared to care if I was chopped into pieces. "We'll all be watching and waiting. And if the four of us can't handle a group of youths... well, we should all just stake ourselves right now."
"Pass," I said, although, worriedly, Tina and Sinclair were nodding. "Okay. What do I do?"
Six hours later, I'd had enough. "This isn't working!" I yelled. "And the sun's coming up soon! A total wasted evening, losers!"
Sinclair materialized out of the shadows, effectively scaring the crap out of me. While I gasped and grabbed my chest, he said, "It appears you are correct. We'll have to try again later."
"Well, dammit," Tina said from behind me. I yipped and spun around while she continued. "I want to get these little thugs now."
"Soon," Sinclair soothed. He slung a companionable arm around her shoulder. He practically had to bend over to do it; she was really short. "Let's head back to the hotel and get some rest. Where's Monique?"
"Here," she said from across the street. She quickly crossed against the light-vampires were total renegades-and joined our little huddle. "This is unfortunate. I had hoped-"
"Next time," Sinclair said.
"Oh, crap! We're gonna trash another evening by doing this again?" I grumped. "Gosh, I can't wait. Remind me to get that night off, by the way."
Sinclair muttered something in response, but I didn't catch it. Lucky for him.
"Great shoes," Monique said, pointing.
"Yes," I said, pleased. I was dressed in black-a cliche but it seemed appropriate for the evening shenanigans-except for my shoes. They were clear Lucite wedges with a butterfly in each heel. Normally I try to avoid plastic shoes, but this time I made an exception. "Aren't they great? Sixty-nine ninety five, with my discount."
"Are those real bugs?" Tina asked.
"No," I said, offended.
"Oh, that's right. You're in P.E.T.A."
"Not anymore. They were getting a little extreme. I mean, I'm as against spraying shaving cream into a rabbit's eyes as the next person. But they're trying to prevent AIDS research, which I think sucks."
"How nice," Sinclair said silkily, "that your politics are as changeable as your wardrobe."
"Uh... thanks?" Was that a compliment? "But I still wouldn't walk around with real bugs in my shoes."
"Are they comfortable?" Monique asked. "They're so high."
"Comfort is irrelevant! A small price to pay."
"This is enthralling," Sinclair said, "but the sun will be up soon, and I would rather not be burned alive while you ladies discuss footwear."
"Picky, picky. I'll see you guys later."
"I'll walk you to your car," he said quickly.
I laughed. "Why? What could possibly happen to me? The bad guys aren't coming out tonight... or if they did, it wasn't around here."
He hesitated for a long moment-had he been hoping for a grope in the parking garage?-then said, "Very well. Good night."
" 'Night. G'night, Tina. Bye, Monique."
Five minutes later, I was in the US Bank parking ramp. My car was the only one on level three. Good thing I was already dead, or I'd be really creeped out. Minneapolis was pretty low-crime compared to most cities, but it didn't do to tempt fate.
I unlocked my car and was about to open the door when I noticed-Argh! Was that a scuff across my toes? Two pairs in one week! My vampire lifestyle was ruining my footwear, and I just would not stand for it.
I bent over to get a closer look, and heard a whummm-thud! I straightened up in a hurry and saw a thick wooden arrow quivering in the metal between my window and the roof of the car.
I whirled. There was a kid-eighteen, nineteen-standing beside one of the concrete pillars, holding a crossbow. I heard the click as he popped another arrow into place, and sidestepped just as the punk blew out my driver side window.
"Cut that out!" I shouted. "What's the matter with you?"
Move.
I ducked again, and the kid jumped behind the pillar as two more arrows sailed past him. Great. There was one behind me, too.
"What, you were too good for our trap?" I called out. "I wasted my entire evening and you show up now? Next time"-I could actually see the kid's arrow coming at me in not-quite-slow motion, and sidestepped again. Guess my undead adrenaline was kicking in-"make an appointment."
"Give it up, you vampire whore," someone called from behind me.
"Oh, that's nice," I snapped. "You don't even know me!"
I heard muffled footsteps. They were good, I hadn't even noticed I was walking into an ambush.
But now I was noticing everything. I figured there were at least three people on this level with me, maybe four.
I had the strong urge to move again-thank you, inner voice-and this time three bullets stitched my car door. Then another smacked into my shoulder.
"Owwwww!" I complained. It felt like getting bopped with a baseball bat. It hurt for a few seconds, then my shoulder went numb. "Lucky for you guys I've got a million other T-shirts at home. What did I ever do to you?"
The ones behind me were muttering to themselves, and the kid by the pillar-a blue-eyed blonde right out of Surfing Central Casting-looked amazed. He stared and stared, appearing to be waiting for something. What? For me to blow up? Were the bullets special?
"Duds," the woman called from somewhere.
Finally, he said, "Stand still, you fucking bloodsucker."
"Are you on drugs? Do I have Giant Moron written on my forehead?"
"No," my would-be killer admitted.
"And will you stop with the wrecking of my car? I have to make this one last at least another year." Luckily, Fords were built tough. "Who are you jerk offs, anyway?"
"We're the Blade Warriors," a woman called from behind me. She was pretty well hidden; I had no idea what she was wearing. I rolled my eyes, and the kid by the pillar stopped in mid-reload to stare at me again. "We kill vampires."
I snorted. Teenagers! Well, at least they'd stopped shooting at me. "The Blade Warriors? Seriously? You guys actually thought that up and said, 'yeah, that name doesn't blow, we'll go with that one'?"
There was an embarrassed silence.
"And as far as killing vampires goes," I continued smugly, "you're sort of sucking at it. How much ammo have you wasted on me?"
"You'd know about sucking," Blondie sneered.
"Hey, I'm not the one running around in Kevlar with crossbows in the middle of the night like a geek loser. And four against one? Not too lame."
"But you're a vampire!" the woman protested. She was about ten feet closer. Oh-ho. Keep the dead chick talking while the other three sneak up on me. "You kill people!"
"No I don't. I've only killed one person in my whole life, and he was already dead. I told you guys you didn't know anything about me. What, because I'm a vampire I automatically deserve to be shot with arrows?"
"Well... yes."
"Bullshit. You're teenagers, but I'm not trying to kill you. Although if you keep shooting up my car," I muttered, "I might."
Having finished my speech, I figured it was time to get gone before my luck ran out. Thank goodness,
I was parked on the right side of the ramp. I swiftly crossed the six feet to the wall, dodging another bullet and two arrows on the way, and without another word to the Loser Warriors, vaulted over the ledge and plummeted three stories to the street below.