Normally, I have no issue feeding on humans. I do not even have a physical, mental, or emotional problem with killing a human. Humans kill cows every day. I try to avoid it if I can. However, when it comes down to that act, I have no trouble doing it. They are our food. We have to eat.
Everything comes down to personal survival. That is why the majority of people on earth have no issue with killing animals. Killing animals to eat is not an issue. Therefore, wearing the skin and fur of an animal is not only okay, but it ensures the animal in question was not killed merely for fun.
Sometimes, when we are overworked or overtired or even too high, we have no concern with putting skulls on our hands or walking with our feet on top of feet that came off of some corpse. Circle of life, right?
What does cause me some distress is the need to cause pain. This would not be necessary if they would simply give up the information I need. I must protect my family. When it comes to my family, especially my girls, I will rip the eyes out of every single living soul in this city to make sure they are unharmed. I will even dance around and mock them as I do it.
I have lines. They are not barriers. They are simply morality markers that track how far up or down I have gone. When I am forced to cross those lines, a different side of me comes out. A side that would be alien to anyone who think they know me. That is not even the monster side of me. That is only the taking care of business side of Abraxas. I always make sure that business keeps moving.
My main point of all of this is that I really hope this witch is logical. I hope she does not make me cross a line I had not intended on crossing.
"Good evening," I say to her as I walk into the room. "I hear you were asking to see me?"
"Yes, you heard right. I do want to see you. I want to know why I'm being held here against my will?" She pulls her arm up as fast and as hard as she can, showing the poly-neoprene nylon restraints that hold her body to the bed without actually hurting her.
"Firstly, we wanted you in a comfortable, safe place where you were able to recover. Second, when you did wake up, I wanted to ask you a few questions before we sent you on your way," I say, waiting to gauge her reaction to my curt, yet gentleman tone.
"Just like a man thinking that some woman owes him an explanation for anything she does! I don't need your permission to be in a cemetery…"
I cut her off quick. "I never said you owe me a thing. I was really hoping that we could do this nice and easy like a lady and a gentleman would. I was simply asking." I pause for a second.
Woman like her always have to hear themselves or they feel irrelevant.
"You were not asking anything! What you're doing is intimidating with your goons here and you want to make me feel like your slave or something!" Her voice sounds like a crow.
"How either of us feel at the moment is completely irrelevant. I want to know who that old woman was that hurt my friend here. I want to know what that stone around her neck was, and where she got it. Then my associate here will drive you home with no further incident."
She squints her eyes at me as if she could see something in my mind or my body language. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you her name." She paused, as if waiting for one of us to lean in on her. "Her name..., her name is... FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKEN COCK SUCKER. You sick fucks are just going to rape me or something sick like that."
She continues on like that as Chad and I close the door and leave her to yell herself tired. She is acting like the spoiled, self-entitled brat that she is.
I look at Chad and tell him, "Give her an hour and have her questioned again. Have the drones do the same through the day. Make sure they do not allow her to sleep. I am going out. I intend to be back before dawn. If I happen to go to ground, I want to make sure she gets round the clock treatment. No food, only water. I will starve it out of her. If that fails, I will go to the next level."
Chad's eyes show slight concern.
"Get one of the boys and give him a radio. You can hit the door with Johnny if you like."
Chad walks away.
I think of my next step in this ridiculous Scooby-Doo chess game these witches have moved me into.
We show up at the cemetery to confront the witches. They must know every vampire that has a friend, most likely has a nest. Why would they risk an entire vampire assault on the town if they knew that vampires bleeding everyone in town was a possibility? Why would they show such power unless... Unless they have an even bigger weapon in reserve. This is bigger than I am seeing. Someone would have heard something.
Anyway, I am already very late for the meeting with the Shadow Lords. I get Jade, and we head to an old trap house a few blocks away.
I think of my next step in this ridiculous Scooby-Doo chess game these witches have moved me into.
We show up at the cemetery to confront the witches. They must know every vampire that has a friend, most likely has a nest. Why would they risk an entire vampire assault on the town if they knew that vampires bleeding everyone in town was a possibility? Why would they show such power unless... Unless they have an even bigger weapon in reserve. This is bigger than I am seeing. Someone would have heard something.
Anyway, I am already very late for the meeting with the Shadow Lords. I get Jade, and we head to an old trap house a few blocks away.
As we walk in, we are patted down. This is a true trap house: every room has peeling paint, scarred wood, and signs of neglect. Dozens pass through or sleep here nightly, ensuring nothing is ever cleaned or repaired.
A large black man wearing sunglasses at night, inside, shows us to where the leaders are sitting.
We passed through a doorway, straight through the living room to the kitchen. The living room had two couches and four folding chairs. They were all filled with people wearing black on black. Most had sunglasses, watching TV inside. There was a staircase on the right side of the living room going upstairs. There was also another room in the back of the kitchen, off to the right. We are unable to see beyond the kitchen.
"Kinz" is the name of the top dog at the table. He has two capos that sit on each side of him: Cane and Flipper. Yeah, clearly one of these guys will not make it to the top no matter how hard he tries... guess which one.
We sit down at the mid-size kitchen table. The table is set up in what was once a kitchen. I am not sure what to call the room now.
I began to wonder if they already worked for Joe-ell. This is not normal behavior, I do not think it is, anyway.
Even the windows are blacked out or covered with newspaper or nailed-up blankets. Except for the table, couch, and chairs, the house is nearly empty.
Kinz starts by welcoming me to his business. After he was done with the intros for the men I already knew, I began, "Kinz, we have always gotten along, considering we do business in the same neighborhood. We push different pleasures, and that is why I think it works. I know you have let it be known that you would like to move your products in and onto my corner, or should I say corners, but I have always been solid on my no narcotics in and around the club."
As I pause, he starts to look restless. He stands up and bends over the table, "Listen mutha fucka, ain't nobody been pushin no shit."
I hold up my hand and let him know he is going down the wrong road. "My intention tonight was not to accuse you. My intention was to offer you a piece of my real estate. I will offer you the ability to move product in my club. Fentanyl and heroin is off limits. Any other drug you want to move, brother, I am good. As long as the customers come to you, you do not bother the customers, I am good."
He turns his head as if I was about to set him up. "You gunna let me keep a pusher in your club, and you don't wanna piece? What's the catch, son?"
"The Catch is, I need for you to supply me with an army. I think witches are planning an assault on my club. If you can send me soldiers when I call—even after the fight—you can sell your wares in my club from now on."
This is my undersell. I know he is planning to ask for more. I will give him more, the only question is how much more. He tries to see through me but can not.
"How many bodies we talking here, bruh?"
Without changing the expression on my face, I tell him, "100-150 maybe. Should be enough. They have to be good with the Glams. I really do not want anyone starting shit within our ranks. That will make it all pointless. I would say they have to be good with supernatural creatures in general. Just be okay with killing anyone I put in front of them."
He smiles. "SHIT, loyalty is not an issue with da lords. Word is blood and bond, my dark-ass brutha. But I have a counter now. I have no problem with the bodies, I will need some real estate now."
I feel like we were so close to making this work. I try and explain to him, "I can not have you selling outside my club. That WILL draw way too much attention, and I do not want cops hanging out at my club waiting for your guys to show."
"Na son, not even like dat. What I need from you is a place to park. You know, a reup. Once a month I'll have a guy drop a package off at your door. About the size of a small car tire. Once a week, he will stop by to lay eyes on dat package. Maybe he make dat package a little lighter. Dat is it." He acts like everyone everywhere does it.
I say to him, "I will do you one better. How about if I have a room at the front of the club that is hands-off to everyone except your man? I give you the key. You give that key to whomever you want to, and he can come and go as he likes. All I ask is that you not show up between midnight and 3 AM. The cops like to circle the block and this will save us both in lawyer fees. How is that?"
He jumps up and shakes my hand. "I think we are gunna make a ton of money and drop a shitload of bodies, my dark soul brutha! Ha ha."
I take Jade by the hand. She is dressed in a skin-tight, long-sleeve, neck-to-crotch zip-up leather catsuit, black and white triangles covering the outside. She looks like a queen on a deck of sexy ninja playing cards.
As we leave the house, all the guys in the living room begin to catcall and make sexually suggestive remarks. Once we reach the door, she puts her head on my arm and grabs my ass as we walk out on the porch. All the guys in the living room start to groan and hiss as though a bad call was just made against a team they hoped to win.
At the bottom of the stairs, as the door was closing, I could hear someone say, "No way he can be hittin that right, man."
As we reach the car, I let her in. Right before she sits down, she raps the front of my pants with the back of her hand, looks up at me with a smile that could melt ice in winter. Forcing me to smile back.
I think to myself as I walk to the other side, looking at her through the windshield, what a wonderfully bad girl.
We are able to make it back to the Lair before the sun comes up. Jade goes to check on her team and I head to the door to see if Chad or Johnny have gotten any news about our little Eastwick girl that is staying in the guest room.
Chad shakes his head, and Johnny tells me, "Nah, that bitch is talking about everything but what she needs to be talking about! She has not shut the fuck up since you left."
I give them a grin and head inside to evaluate the situation myself. I grab a blood that we have at the ready at the bar and check in with Sonya to make sure everything is going good.
"Yeah pa, same as most days. Fingerprints on my ass and spilled drinks on my crotch. My pussy has to be close to 150 proof by now." She grins at how clever she is, and I smile back at her. I put my hand up to her cheek to let her know I see the real Sonya, and she then runs off to get another order or add prints to her collection.
I make my way to the house to find a man posted at the witch's door. "No change with our guest?" I ask, knowing what the answer will be.
"She is as loud as ever," he fires back at me.
I decide to let her burn herself out through the day. She clearly has no idea what living as a vampire is actually like, or she has more energy than I estimated. Guess we will all find out after we wake up. If she still refuses to talk, I will be forced to apply pressure, and she clearly has never had real pressure a day in her life. Tomorrow, she is going to find out what real pressure feels like.