The supernatural community considers Las Vegas an all you can eat smorgasbord. It’s stuffed with drunken idiots who truly believe what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Unfortunately, if you party with monsters you can expect to get chomped on. Protecting these morons is a full time job.
Perched on the rooftop of a parking garage I surveyed the street below me. A broken neon light bathed the bustling sidewalk with bright psychedelic flashes. My mouth tightened in irritation. Oh goody. Tonight predators outnumbered the prey and once again Bambi was late. Her reason? She couldn’t decide on what color of nail polish to use. I’m In The Mood For Love or Pretty In Pink? Like the monsters gave a crap.
My jaw dropped when I finally spotted her. Unfreakin’ believable. Bambi, the wannabe fashion queen, strutted down the walkway in a skin tight, black leather cat suit. The plunging neckline barely contained her girls. Did I mention that she wears a D cup? Any sudden movement and those puppies were popping out. The vamps would probably enjoy the show right up to the point where they started gnawing on her neck.
To complete her “slayer” outfit the twit wore neon pink four-inch stilettos that were a perfect match to her Pretty In Pink nail polish. How in the hell did she expect to fight in those? Oh wait. She didn’t.
My shoes? Steel toed combat boots. My “slayer” outfit? A black Ninja suit complete with body armor and I was armed to the teeth; but I’d bet my last hundred dollars that Bambi was once again weaponless.
With my psychic senses I knew where every monster was. Bambi didn’t have a clue. Jamming to her Ipod, she was completely oblivious to the two Jay Z wannabe vamps shuffling after her. It was a wonder they could walk at all. Their baggy oversized pants hung half way down their rather hairy butts. Ewww.
I rubbed my suddenly aching head. Bambi had easy pickin’ stamped on her forehead. Sooner or later the twit was going to get me killed. Just like her last three Alfreds. Poor Hal hadn’t even made it a week before an Elvis impersonator snapped his neck. You’d think that would raise some alarms but oh no. My aunt just shrugged it off.
Bambi’s excuse? She only wanted his autograph. How was she supposed to know the King of Rock was a master vampire?
Hello? You’re a vampire slayer.
Talk about clueless. I mean, c’mon. What kind of slayer repeatedly forgets to bring weapons to a vampire hunt? Or puts rhinestones on her stakes and then whines about how hard they are to hold onto?
The vamps suddenly jumped Bambi and dragged her down a dark alley. Instead of pulling out a stake and dusting them, the ditzy twit started screaming, “Bunny!”
For a long moment I considered letting them eat her. Hey, it would make my life a whole lot easier. I might even live to see twenty-five. Okay, there was the whole ethics thing. I had sworn an oath to protect and serve my slayer. The bitch was also my cousin and Aunt Tessa would disown me if I let anything happen to her little princess.
Another scream sounded from the alley.
Could I really stand by and watch them kill her? No, dammit, I couldn’t. With a sigh, I gunned my black Ducati Streetfighter motorcycle and rode to the rescue, again.
I shot across the busy street, dodging cars and cursing pedestrians. I skidded to a stop in the alley and stared in amazement.
Bambi was shrieking like a demented banshee and waving one broken high heel at her attackers. “They’re Jimmy Choos! Do you morons know how much they cost?”
Gawking at her wildly bobbing girls, the vampires shook their heads.
Bambi advanced on them. Step. Hop. Step. Hop. “Eight hundred and ninety-five dollars!”
I shook my head in disbelief. No matter what the species, show men your tits and they turned into brainless idiots.
The hip-hop wannabes had failed to notice that their pants were now wadded nicely around their ankles or that I was behind them, with my modified crossbow in hand.
Her face flushed with fury, my cousin shouted, “Well, what are you waiting for? Shoot them!”
In a blur of movement, the vamps spun around, tripped over their pants and smashed face first into the grimy pavement.
Ouch! That had to hurt.
“Shoot them,” Bambi shrieked again.
Fangs extended, the vamps leapt at me. I quickly nailed them in the chest and watched as they disintegrated into dust. Nothing quite like arrows soaked in holy water to get the job done.
Bambi snarled, “What took you so long?”
My temper soaring, I countered with, “Where are your weapons?”
“In the car. They didn’t match my outfit.”
“Are you truly that stupid or do you have a death wish?”
Bambi tucked her girls away and huffed, “You’re just jealous because I look hot.”
“The vamps don’t give a rat’s ass about your outfit. They want to kill you.”
“They haven’t succeeded now have they? Because I’m the best of the best and no one can beat my kill ratio. Mom thinks I’ll make champion status.”
“Champion status? Get serious. What kill ratio are you talking about? You’ve killed one freakin’ vampire and a fledgling at that. The other kills are mine. Not yours.”
“Ha! Alfreds can’t claim kills. So, they’re mine.”
My right hand balled into a fist. Leave it to Bambi to flaunt my aunt’s incredibly stupid rules. God, I wanted to pop her one. “Talking about kills, let’s not forget in the last year you’ve gotten three of your Alfred’s killed. I’m not going to be the fourth. The next time you leave your weapons behind, you’re on your own. Do you hear me?”
“You can’t do that!”
“I’m telling mom.”
“You do that.”
My senses screamed a warning. I shoved a stake into Bambi’s hand, spun and fired my crossbow.
The vampire caught the bolt easily.
Oh hell, not good.
With a terrifying smile, the vampire hurled my bolt back.
Wham! The arrow slammed into my chest and the next thing I knew I was crashing into a wall. The wind knocked out of me, I struggled to pull the bolt from my armored vest.
Bambi squealed, “Bunny!”
I glanced over and gaped in surprise. She was actually fighting the vamp. Of course, her cat suit severely limited her movements and with only one shoe, her footwork consisted of hop, kick.
The vampire looked scarily like Michael Jackson. Maybe he wasn’t buried in that Forest Lawn mausoleum after all. He swung one gloved fist at Bambi.
The heel on her remaining shoe snapped. Staggering off balance, Bambi threw her arm out and bam! She nailed that sucker dead center. A cloud of black dust sprayed the alley.
Bambi jumped up and down in excitement. “Did you see that? Did you see that? I dusted a master vamp!”
“Color me surprised.” I yanked at the arrow again.
Bambi reached over, jerked it free and tugged me to my feet. “Mom’s gonna be so proud.”
“Maybe she’ll throw you a party.”
“Ya think?” Bambi squealed again in excitement and held out her hand. “Let me have your cell phone.”
My sarcasm was totally lost on the twit. “Sure. Why not?” I handed it to her.
Bambi let out an anguished wail. “I broke a nail and I have a date in an hour.”
“Date?” My temper roared to life. “You have a date?”
“Yeah. With this dreamy English guy I met last night at the Cathouse. Great dancer and I just love his accent.”
“You bugged out on me last night to go clubbing?”
“Well, yeah. A girl’s entitled to a little fun.”
“I was getting my ass kicked while you were out having a little fun!”
“God, you’re such a party pooper.”
I will not kill her. I will not kill her today but tomorrow, maybe. I took a deep, calming breath and asked, “Did you know that the Cathouse is a vampire club?”
“You’re a slayer. You’re supposed to kill vamps not dance with them.”
Bambi rolled her eyes in disgust and clutched my cell phone to her ear. “Mom! I just dusted a master vampire. Yeah. Isn’t that great? Un huh.”
I followed my cousin down the alley as she chatted happily about her three kills. How easy it had been to lure them into the alley and dust them. I fingered the butt of my gun. It’d be so easy to shoot her and drop her down a mine shaft. No one would ever know.
“Bye, bye. Luv you mom.”
I snatched my cell phone back. “Tell me about this Englishman you have a date with? His name wouldn’t happen to be Ian McGregor, would it?”
“Get that in a psychic flash?”
I resisted the urge to bang my head against the wall. “Remember my twenty-first birthday?”
“Yeah, you screwed a vampire and lost your powers.”
“Do you remember his name?”
“Wasn’t it McGregor?”
“And what’s the name of the guy you’re dating?”
Anger flashed in her eyes. “It’s not the same McGregor.”
“Really? Is your Ian six foot six, long black hair, pale blue eyes and built like a linebacker?”
“Yeah, but he said he was from England and in real estate.”
“Vampires lie!” I shouted in exasperation.
“He’s not a vampire! I would know.”
“Just like you knew that Elvis impersonator was a master vamp?”
Bambi let out a shriek of outrage. “You bitch! Mom said he was cloaking his power, that’s why I didn’t sense him.”
“Strange. The minute I laid eyes on him I knew.”
“That’s because you’re an ugly freak and a virgin slut.”
“I’m going on my date and you can’t stop me,” Bambi hollered and zoomed off using her slayer speed.
“He’s using you as bait,” I shouted after her, wishing I could run as fast as a vampire, too.
“Don’t care,” she shouted back.
Now there was a surprise. The narcissistic bitch didn’t care about anyone but herself. Once McGregor put the whammy on blabber mouth, I was as good as dead.
That mine shaft was starting to look mighty good. I glanced down at my grubby outfit. If I was going clubbing, I needed some flashy duds and Roxy was just the person to hook me up.
The Nasty Vamp releases today from Whispers Publishing
Watch the trailer for The Nasty Vamp and answer one simple question. What does our heroine want for her 21st birthday? Up for grabs is genuine, authentic Navajo Indian necklace I bought at Monument Valley. Click on the link below, answer the question correctly and you're put in the drawing. Simple, huh?
Send your reply to firstname.lastname@example.org and put in the subject field: WC Trailer Contest.
The drawing will be held June 28th and the winner will be posted at the author's blog at www.whispershome.com