Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
“Are we screwed?” I asked.
“Remains to be seen,” Ethan replied, looking tense and uneasy.
It was not the answer I was hoping for, but the truth was always better than a lie. It was also easier to remember.
“Augustus and Felix will meet us in your office in ten,” I said, checking my phone. I read the entire message and made a face. “They’re bringing Martha and Jane. Pretty sure they think they’re in trouble for fighting them and want to prove that the old freaks are still alive.”
“Did you explain why they’ve been summoned?” Ethan inquired, distracted.
“Nope. Wasn’t sure how much you want them to know.”
“Excellent.”
I watched as Ethan made a few phone calls demanding the presence of our top in-house logistics people without telling them why. His eyes were glued to the rag magazines as he barked out orders. When he made the call to summon our deadliest warriors—the Elite Guard—the seriousness of the situation metaphorically punched me in the stomach with a violent jab. However, I still didn’t understand the situation…
That was going to be remedied immediately.
“Explain to me what a Dhampir is, please,” I said as we both stared at the spot where the Devil had stood only minutes ago.
The note was on the desk. It still looked like gibberish and still smelled bad. The desire to start the day over and pretend none of this was happening was as tempting as it was unrealistic. It seemed like once we’d solved one monster-assed crisis, another popped up. While I wouldn’t trade my life, I could really use a damned vacation.
“It’s as your uncle stated,” Ethan said, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “It’s a half Vamp-half human.”
“Isn’t that basically a Zombie?” I asked, confused.
He shook his head. “No. Very different. A Zombie is a half-turned Vamp, which is outlawed due to it being cruel and barbaric. A Dhampir is the result of a male Vampire impregnating a human woman. The problem is that it’s illegal, sadistic and immoral. It’s also next to impossible.”
“Why?” I perched at the edge of his massive desk and waited. Rarely was Ethan so unsettled.
He sat down, then stood up, then sat again. “Because it creates monsters. It’s beyond rare for an undead one to impregnate a breathing human female. I’d always thought it impossible, but clearly, I’m incorrect. I’m finding it incredibly difficult to comprehend that any of my people would be so stupid, careless and inhumane. If there were Dhampirs living in our dominion, we would know.”
“But we don’t, and apparently there are,” I pointed out. I wasn’t as trusting of our people as he was. Many of them would happily see me dead—for real dead. The group we’d recently hosted would be delighted with my demise… and since that was almost impossible, they’d probably settle for my banishment. The sexism in the ancient ones’ society was out of control.
Ethan cracked his knuckles and placed his hands flat on his desk. It was clear he was doing his best not to blow up the compound. “True. Hopefully, there aren’t many. Although, if there were, there would be no way to hide them.”
With every vague hint as to why we were in trouble, I felt my blood pressure rise. Considering I didn’t actually have blood pressure, that wasn’t a great sign. “Okay,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “While I know that most people who’ve lived longer than dirt like to go the cryptic route, I don’t. I’m more a ‘find the facts then kill the shit out of it’ kind of undead chick. So, with that being on the table, I’m gonna ask you questions, and you will give me direct answers. If I miss something important, you’ll fill in the holes. Got it?”
He nodded.
“Is it difficult to create a Dhampir?” I questioned.
“Yes, as I said, almost impossible,” he admitted. “Most of the time the human female dies in the gestation period. Carrying the undead—even the partial undead—inside the living was not meant to happen.”
I closed my eyes at the horrible thought and pressed forward. “Does the human mother live if she does give birth?”
“No.” His voice was flat.
I slid off the desk and began to pace. Each new piece of the puzzle was uglier than the last. It felt like facts were missing. Facts that Ethan might not even know… Pacing helped my mind stay focused. “Okay… okay…” I shook my hands, then clenched them into fists, trying to make my mind stop seeing the horrid visuals. It didn’t work. “Characteristics of a Dhampir?”
“Blood drinker. Pale but not in a regular Vampyre way—most appear sickly and ill. Imagine the lead in the worst B Vampyre movie ever made. Picture something that resides in a crypt, and you’ve got the right idea.”
“Oh my God,” I said, gaping at him. “Long gnarly fingernails? Bad, smelly blood-breath? Beady black eyes? Weird bun hair? Skeletal bodies with see-through skin? Really long and skanky fangs?”
Ethan squinted at me. “Holy Hell. What kind of Vampyre movies have you watched?”
“Well… umm, you said bad B Vamp movies, so I eliminated Twilight because I like that one. Honestly, sometimes I wish we sparkled in the sun. You know?”
The love of my undead life pressed his temples and closed his eyes. “Astrid.”
“Ethan,” I shot back.
“I seriously regret using the movie analogy,” he said. “So, let’s forget about that and just know that a Dhampir isn’t pleasant looking.”
“Roger that,” I told him. I’d been taught by my grandma that there were no dumb questions. I was pretty sure I just proved her wrong. “My bad,” I said. “Got a little carried away there. Umm… can they withstand sunlight?”
“Doubtful,” Ethan said. “If there are Dhampirs living in the North American Dominion, they’re young.”
“That’s a guess?” I asked.
“It’s an educated assumption,” he replied. “As a Dhampir ages, the bloodlust increases until it’s uncontrollable, which is one of the many reasons it’s illegal to create them. They lose all logical reasoning and become killing and eating machines. If they were at that point, there would be no hiding them.”
“Do they have magic? Any power?”
Ethan shook his head. “They’re strong, but no magic has ever been detected. They simply live to eat and destroy.”
“You’ve seen a Dhampir?” I asked.
“I have.”
“And?” I questioned, knowing I probably didn’t want the answer.
He gave me a level stare. His voice was emotionless. “I’ve witnessed two in my time. I ended both of them.”
I represented Compassion. It was in me even when I didn’t want it. Like now, for example. “But a Dhampir didn’t ask to be born,” I said. “It doesn’t seem fair not to protect them.”
“Very little in life is fair,” he said in a hollow tone. “They were not meant to be and can’t survive in our world without revealing all of us. The loss of a few to save many is what we’re working with here. They were mercy killings. It’s no way to live. Trust me on that.”
I wanted to say a lot of things. I didn’t. Ethan was over five hundred years old. I was just shy of forty and had only been undead for a decade. There was much I didn’t know and I did trust him. However, my gut told me to make my decisions based on what I saw. My gut had also told me that gauchos were back in style. Guts could be wrong…
But one question was eating at me. “Do you think someone is responsible from the meetings we just had?”
Ethan paused in deep thought, then shook his head. “Doubtful. Charlton, Stephano, and the rest might want to rule the world, but this would cause mass obliteration if it got out. It directly goes against what they desire. Exposing us as monsters would backfire spectacularly. And I’m quite sure that they are not responsible for the Vampyre hunters.”
“Not so sure I agree with you on that,” I replied.
Ethan glanced over. His expression was sincere. “Tell me why you think that?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I hope I’m wrong, though.”
We sat in silence for a moment and digested the new battle we were about to wage. Granted, we had no clue as to the what, where, or why, but we would figure it out. Too much was on the line.
“Did Satan leave a contact number for Poosh?” Ethan asked.
“Nope, but Augustus and Felix should know how to contact her.”
As if on cue the dummies entered the office with the idiot old bags in tow.
“Prince McBitable Buns and Titties LaTatas,” Jane said, curtsying. “We’re here at the request of Dumb and Dumber.”
It looked like she was taking a dump. Martha followed suit and got stuck. Augustus and Felix were trying to figure out if they were Dumb and Dumber or if Martha and Jane had been referring to themselves. Ethan and I were clearly the winners in the brain matter department with this group.
“Shall I call you Titties LaTatas?” Augustus queried warily, unsure of the etiquette.
“Absolutely not,” I told him.
“Jugs McHonkerboobs?” Felix suggested. “Or possibly Chesty Mongonipples?”
“Oh my God,” I said, sitting on my hands so I didn’t zap the idiot. “I have a name, and you can use it. Call me Astrid.”
“It’s tragic! And oh so very melancholy and lonely,” Augustus lamented, throwing his hands in the air. “I feel othered.”
I squinted at him. “What?”
Felix, with his trusty phone internet, jumped right in. “Othered means treating someone as though they are not part of the cool kid group.”
“Does it actually say cool kid group ?” I asked.
“No,” he admitted with great pride. “I added that myself! I am getting hop with the logo.”
“Hip with the lingo,” I corrected him.
Ethan cleared his throat. I could tell he didn’t want to enter into the conversation, but he couldn’t help himself. My man was picking up my bad habits. I grinned. This conversation was absurd and gross, but with what was going on it was actually nice to deal with stupid for a few minutes.
“At the risk of regretting it,” Ethan said. “Why do you feel othered?”
Augustus pulled a hanky from his pocket and blew his nose. We didn’t have bodily functions other than tears, so I could only guess he’d seen the move on TV. “It stabs me in my dead heart that my comrade Felix and I are not permitted to have pet names for our new boss. As her secretaries, we feel it would boost office morale if we could lovingly call her Lungmittens LeJugs like her BFFs Martha and Jane do. Felix is fonder of Mammalian Protruberances, but I feel strongly that Lungmittens has a nicer ring.”
Felix joined in. “I’m more than fine with Lungmittens,” he assured me with a deep bow. “And in the spirit of getting chummier since we’ll be working closely together, I would like to be called Cock McDingledongers.”
I glanced over at Ethan, who had his hand over his mouth and pretended to be deep in thought. He didn’t fool me. The man was doing his best not to laugh. I was torn between laughing and electrocuting the idiotic duo.
“And I,” Augustus announced with gusto. “I would like to be called Dick LaBalldong.”
“What in the actual fuck is happenin’ here?” Martha demanded, still stuck in the squat that made her look like she was doing her business on the toilet. “Me and Jackass Jane are the only ones who get to call Hooters McNubbins by pet names! But since we’re all pickin’ new monikers, I’ll go with Shiny Clam Deepthroat.”
“Works for me,” Jane said, giving Martha a swift kick in the butt to help her stand up. “I’m gonna be Globes LeSparklyvage.”
“How about no,” I said, giving each of the dummies a quick and mostly harmless zap. “You have perfectly fine names, and they will be used. If you insist on the profane titles, you’ll find yourself on fire. Often.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Augustus said. “Is Penis McBoner less offensive?”
“No. It’s not,” I said, raising my hands to zap him again.
He dove behind the couch. Felix followed his lead. I rolled my eyes.
“Did you know that there’s a stapler, a cell phone charger, paper clips and a hole punch under your couch?” Felix called out.
“Yes. Leave it,” I replied. “I need the phone number of Poosh. I need her assistance on a matter. Do either of you have it?”
Augustus screamed like his pants were on fire. Felix groaned. Martha and Jane looked confused.
“What’s a Poosh?” Jane asked.
Augustus’ head popped up from behind the couch. “A Poosh is a Demon who enjoys latrine fornication and takes pleasure in grabbing cocks and testiculo.”
Martha scratched her head in confusion. “Sounds normal to me.”
“Oh no, no, no,” Felix said, still hidden from sight. “Poosh doesn’t ask permission. The next time she fondles my comrade’s junk, I shall call upon the bollox, buttocks and bosom patrol. That will put her in her place! Astrid made it very clear that the days of throwing women over our shoulders and spiriting them back to our cave for fornication were over and could end with a stint in the dungeon.”
“Yes!” Augustus added. “A consensual bout of fornication in the latrine is fine except for the sad but true fact that I’m cheating on my lover, Lynda. However, manhandling my schlong when I’m trying my best to sell varooms to people who have no fucking idea what I’m talking about is a nu-nu!”
“A no-no,” I said, unable to help myself.
“What’s a no-no?” Augustus asked.
“Forget about it.” I wanted to smack myself in the head for chiming in. I was beginning to think the boys were a lost cause.
Ethan gave me a what the fuck look. I just shrugged. An explanation would take too long.
“Moving on,” I announced. “Do you guys know how to reach Poosh?”
“I have her in my contacts as Demon Spawn Nut Cracker,” Felix volunteered in a fearful whisper.
“Give me your phone,” I told him.
Augustus screamed again as Felix tossed me his phone. The fact that the man was a deadly warrior was nowhere in evidence right now.
Martha wandered over to the desk as I scrolled Felix’s contacts to find Demon Spawn Nut Cracker.
“Love me some human rag mags,” she said, cackling at the headlines. “Lookieloo at this one! Carl Demands Refund On Death Tax After Resurrection! Fuckin’ hilarious.”
“A laugh riot,” I muttered, horrified at the names Felix had on his phone. Pausing, I glanced over at him. “Am I saved in here as Big Boobs LeBouncy?”
Felix immediately feigned ignorance. The imbecile stared at his fingernails like they would sprout flowers and save his idiot ass. “Would that be a bad thing… or a good thing?”
“Bad. Very bad,” Ethan commented.
If Felix could sweat, he’d be drenched.
“I can’t recall if I put that in there or if my phone was stolen by tiny smack talking Trolls at the varoom shop who don’t want me to live much longer,” he choked out, looking to Augustus for backup.
Augustus just screamed and hid again.
I had to give him points for imagination… Quickly correcting his booby faux pas with my actual name, I found what I was searching for.
“Oh good,” Jane said, picking up the bloody paper towel that was at the center of our crisis. “Glad you saw your note.”
“That’s from you?” I ground out as I began to glow dangerously.
Ethan joined me. Martha and Jane continued to read the tabloids, completely unaware that the building might blow at any second.
“Answer me,” I ground out.
“Hell no, Tits McGee,” she said with a chuckle when she noticed that Ethan and I were lit up like Christmas trees. “Found it taped to the front door and figured that you didn’t want any of the nosy fuckers who live in the compound to see a love note between you and Sexy Ass.”
“I’m sorry, what? I didn’t write that,” Ethan said, wildly confused. “Why would you think I would write a note in blood on a paper towel?”
Jane shimmied and slid into the splits. “Cause you’re a kinky motherhumper!”
Jane was now stuck. It took Martha and Ethan to get the old bag back on her feet.
With the new information, my mind raced. The culprit had not been in my office. That was a relief but it made the suspect list get a whole hell of a lot larger. “Can you read what it says?”
Martha examined the note while holding her nose. Jane limped over and joined her. One might think since Vamps couldn’t breathe they also couldn’t smell. That was as incorrect as sunlight, garlic and wooden stakes killing us. Decapitation worked best.
“Can’t make none of that scribble out,” Martha said.
“Nope, whoever wrote that note has shitty penmanship and some rank-ass BO,” Jane added. “All I can read is your name.”
Not for a minute did I believe that Martha and Jane were involved in creating Dhampirs. However, questions needed to be asked. Ethan was all over it.
“When did you find the note?” he asked Jane in a tone that made the dummy realize something was going down.
“This mornin’ about six when I went outside to do nekkid yoga with the sunrise,” she told him without one profanity in the sentence. Rare for her.
I winced at the visual.
“Did you see who left it?” Ethan demanded.
“Nope,” Jane replied. “Why? Is it somethin’ bad?”
I glanced over at Ethan. He glanced at me.
“It’s potentially very bad,” I answered her. “Was there anything odd or suspicious near the note?”
“Nah,” she said. “But if there’s a problem, Martha and I have grenades up our asses, and we can blow that there note to smithereens.”
Quickly, I held up my hand. “Not necessary. At all. Ever.”
Augustus’ head shot up from behind the couch again. He spoke before being called upon. “Is it normal in this day and age to carry explosives in the anus?”
“Define normal,” I muttered before I stated the truth plainly and bluntly. These guys were literal. The chance of them detonating their rear ends was real if I didn’t lay down the law. Honestly, I was horrified at the words I was about to speak, but my life was nuts. “No, it’s not normal or advisable to carry explosives in your butt. Do not do it. Martha and Jane are batshit crazy.”
“Thank you, LaBambas LeFunBags,” Martha said with a thumbs up.
“Welcome,” I replied. There was no use in fighting the nicknames. Shockingly, I was getting used to them. If they ever used my actual name, I’d probably pass out.
Martha went over to the couch and yanked the boys out from behind it. “You jackturds need to make yourselves useful,” she told them. “Try to read that stanky paper towel.”
I didn’t hold out much hope, but I didn’t stop them. Felix and Augustus approached the desk and gagged when they got close. Both sets of eyes grew wide with horror.
“No!” Augustus choked out.
“Impossible,” Felix added, backing away.
Walking behind them, I pushed them back over to the note. They clearly had recognized it was written in Dhampir blood. The questions were many. What did it say? Did a Dhampir write it? Were we dealing with a male or female Dhampir? Was it written by someone else using the blood of a Dhampir? Was I about to lose my shit because yet another life-threatening crisis had landed in our laps?
The only question I could answer was the last one. And the answer was yes.
“Can either of you read it?” I pressed.
“Looks to be written in a code that was used several thousand years ago,” Felix observed, pointing at the illegible script.
“Are they actual words?” I asked.
Felix nodded. “The symbols represent letters used by different clans to create war diagrams. Each clan developed their own symbols. However, breaking codes was one of the jobs Augustus and I excelled at all those centuries ago.”
The fact that the code was ancient probably meant that it wasn’t written by a Dhampir. Ethan had said the older they got, the more unhinged they became. I couldn’t imagine a thousand-year-old Dhampir. Someone else wrote the note using the blood of a Dhampir.
Augustus nodded in agreement with Felix as to their prowess. “We were far better at breaking codes than we are at selling varooms! We were feared by all of the clans.”
“Clans?” I asked.
Ethan stepped up. “For thousands of years before civilized society was normalized, the undead formed clans for safety. Power structures were born, and clans warred with each other in over populated territories.”
“Why populated territories?” I was confused. “It would seem if they were looking for safety, being away from the humans would have been smarter.”
“Food,” Felix said in a matter-of-fact tone that made my stomach roil.
I took in what he’d said and decided not to comment. Back in the day, Vampyres killed their prey. The prey being humans. That hadn’t been allowed for many centuries. It had been proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that a small amount of blood was all that was needed to survive. The murder of innocents was off the table. From what I’d learned, it had taken a whole bunch of undead decapitations to get the Vamps to obey. Some would happily go back to the old ways.
That wasn’t going to happen.
Staying in the present, I got back to the matter at hand. “Can you read the code?”
“I believe I can make it out,” Augustus said with his brow wrinkled in concentration. “It’s addressed to you.”
“Got that part,” I told him.
“It appears to say, ‘Help end me before I end you.’”
Felix stood next to his comrade and nodded. “I’m getting the same.” He turned his attention to Ethan and me. “Smells like a trap.”
“I don’t disagree,” Ethan said tightly. His fists were clenched at his sides, and his expression was thunderous.
“Is there more than one?” Augustus inquired, troubled.
“Little fuckin’ confused here,” Martha grumbled. “More than one what?”
Ethan stared at the note then his gaze met mine. “Very little in our world happens without reason. Jane found the note. Felix and Augustus can read it. Suffice it to say it was meant to be.” He turned to Augustus. “I don’t know the answer to your question, but I will find out. And when I do, there will be hell to pay.”
I agreed with everything he’d just stated. I didn’t want to, but I did. Overlooking the obvious was what got you killed in our world. The thought of hunting Dhampirs and the persons responsible for them with Martha, Jane, Felix, Augustus, and possibly Poosh didn’t sound great, but I wasn’t going to fight against fate. At least I’d have Ethan by my side. Some normal was necessary.
“Dhampir,” I explained. “It’s a half human half Vamp. It’s forbidden and could expose us to the human world.”
“I beg to disagree,” Augustus said. “While the Dhampirs are an issue, and a deadly one, I’d argue that the Vampyre who created the Dhampir is more of the problem that must be extinguished.”
It was the first time he’d made perfect sense since I’d known him.
The interruption of the Elite Guard silenced the conversation. In a shocking move I didn’t expect, Ethan shared none of the intel. He simply told the men and women to guard the compound with extra vigilance and to report any suspicious activity. The love of my undead life then dismissed them.
There was a full minute of silence when they left.
“Was that smart?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Went with my gut. Until we know what’s going on, the facts and vague clues will be kept only amongst a few. If word gets out, then finding the responsible party will be more difficult.”
“You have any ideas?” I asked.
“I have thoughts,” he replied cryptically. “However, let’s bring Poosh into this conversation.
Augustus screamed. He’d gone from sounding brilliant to sounding like a fifth-grade girl at a Taylor Swift concert.
Such was life. It was time to get moving.
