Double Take by A.J. Cole (literature books to read TXT) 📕

Then don’t bite one, you dweeb, Arissa thought at him.

“One would think this was easily avoidable, but you see, they also have magic, and they use it to disguise themselves from us. There are those among them who feel they have a mission to wipe our sort off the face of the earth, you see, and they purposely seek to be bitten. And it’s what they become after that which concerns us the most.”

Arissa remembered Finn’s father talking about that – about how they become completely indestructible and totally mad. How their sole purpose at that point is to murder. At the time, she’d thought he meant all people indiscriminately, but now she realized their target would be the undead ones of the biting variety. Yikes.

“Some have already destroyed entire communities in other areas of the world, mainly in Ireland, I believe. So it’s highly disturbing that they’re here, too.” Gaylord took a deep breath and shook his head. “So far, none of the Sidhe in this area, including the Murphys, has indicated a desire to harm us. But we don’t know that won’t change, or that the wrong behavior won’t trigger such an attack, even if it’s unintentional.” He was zeroing in on Arissa again.

And she’d had enough. She slowly got to her feet and stared around at the crowd. “Hello,” she said with false humility. “My name is Arissa Martin, and I’m a werepire.” Yep, sounded appropriately Alcoholics-Anonymous. Before anyone could speak, she continued, “I’m also dating Finn Murphy. In fact, I sleep with him. He’s amazing in bed, and even more amazing out of it. We talk. We laugh. We have a great time together. And we make love – a lot. He hasn’t done anything that makes me believe he has ulterior motives, and his father is a sweetheart. I have to wonder how many of you have actually taken the time to get to know him or his family? Finn is kind, funny, caring – anything but heartless!” She was getting worked up, now. “He told me one of the reasons he likes me is because I can take him or leave him.”

To her surprise, several gasps followed this bit of intel. It looked like Finn had been telling the absolute truth about that whole wasting-away thing. “I love being with him,” she went on, “but I’m fine when I’m not. He knows what I am, and we’ve already discussed staying away from each other on nights of the full moon. I’m pretty sure I can control myself around him even then, but I don’t think I should take any chances. But other than that, we’re fine, and I’d appreciate it if you’d all stop acting like I just killed all of your mothers! And Kyria,” she turned and faced the outraged vampire behind her, “if this was a problem, you should have had the respect and decency to come to me first and discuss it. Not make a big deal about it at this meeting and purposely humiliate me like this!”

Arissa had defied the woman once before, and had figured she’d survived it because at the time she was so new to all this. She realized she might not be as fortunate this time, but honestly didn’t care. As for this Gaylord guy – hell, it was hard enough to take him seriously with a name like that, but his obvious bias was infuriating her. So she addressed him next.

“As for you, Mr. Francis, I don’t give a crap how much experience you’ve had elsewhere with the Sidhe. How well do you know the Murphys? How well do you know me? Huh? Let me answer that while you’re having your aneurysm – not at all! How dare you make assumptions about people you don’t know! Sorry, dude, but I’m not an idiot, and neither is Finn. And while I’m sure there have been problems with those guys in the past, I’m also sure they’ve changed over the centuries. Kinda like vampires, yes? And werewolves? A hundred years ago, would you have been chilling together in a flipping church basement like a bunch of blood-drinking soccer moms? I think not! I’ve learned enough about you to know how much animosity used to exist between the races. So back the hell off, okay?”

Dead silence. No pun intended.

Arissa picked up her purse, shot a fiery glance at the entire room of beings who, if they felt so inclined, could have rushed her and torn her into teensy-weensy little molecules within seconds. Not sure that they still wouldn’t, she nevertheless turned her back on them and went out. Yeah, she was Irish, too, as her temper had just reminded her. But dang. So what?

As she got in her car, she told herself to calm down – turn on the radio, listen to some music, relax. What came on for some inexplicable reason (she swore she hadn’t put the Country Music station on) was “The Harper Valley PTA”.

She laughed all the way home.

Chaos reigned supreme. Now that was a cliché one could really sink one’s teeth into. Or fangs, as the case may be. Especially when it was so fitting. Had the church basement in fact been hosting a potluck dinner, it probably would have turned into a food-fight.

But no, it was a meeting of vampires, werewolves, and werepires. So instead of throwing food, they threw accusations.

“This is all your fault, Vlad!” screamed Kyria.

“Oh, shut up, you stupid bitch!” Oooh. Calling a vampire that, when it had such obvious canine associations, was without question the height of both cruelty and stupidity. And Vlad had done it on purpose, having had more than enough of her at this point. “You’re the one who said she should go out to bars!”

“And whose idea was it for her to date the Irishman, eh?” Her hands were up, her fingers curved into claws.

“Are you going to scratch me, my dear?”

Kyria opened her mouth and zoomed toward the other vampire, fangs extended, preparing to do some serious damage.

Right as she got within his personal space, Vlad raised a fist and cold-cocked her. Well, what really happened was that she ran face-first into that fist and knocked herself out.

Behind them, no one noticed this, everyone being too busy carrying on about who was wrong, who was right, who did Arissa think she was, and on and on and on. The room was almost evenly divided between those who supported her actions and those who wanted to rip her heart out. Among the former group were – understandably – Freya, Maya, Leander, Blaine and one or two others who thought she was cute. Among the latter were Gaylord Francis, most of the older members of the group, and – had she been awake – Kyria. No surprise there.

Before being shrieked at and threatened by the Queen, Vlad had found the girl’s behavior amusing, and now, shaking his head and grinning at what he considered a lot of silliness happening around him, he left to go find her.

That her car was gone was hardly a problem. He gave the matter a few seconds of thought, then zoomed away into the night toward Murphy’s.

Arissa was sitting at the bar talking to Finn. Even from the door, Vlad could see that the Sidhe was controlling an urge to laugh. He had no idea what Arissa was feeling, though, since she had her back to him. Time to find out, he told himself, and went forward.

“Can I get you anything, gorgeous?” asked one of the waitresses as he passed her.

“Bourbon neat,” he said. “I’ll take it at the bar.”

She shrugged and walked away.

“Are you all right, my dear?” asked Vlad as he slid onto the stool next to Arissa.

She swiveled to face him. “Vlad! What the hell! Did they send you here to kill me?”

He laughed. “No, darling, they’re too busy tearing each other apart to even care that I’ve left.”

She shot a horrified glance at Finn, then at Vlad. “They’re what? Why?”

“Actually,” he began, but interrupted himself momentarily to thank the waitress who had placed his drink in front of him. “Yes. Actually, it seems you have a number of loyal friends, and between them defending you and the rest condemning you, it’s quite a to-do!” He raised his glass as if in toast, and took a sip.

“What about Kyria? I’m surprised she didn’t kill me right then and there.”

“Hmm. True. I believe she was simply too shocked to react. Poor thing is getting slow. Anyway, with you gone, she attacked me instead.” He chortled and took another sip.

“Are you hurt?”

“Who is Kyria?” asked Finn. “Arissa gave me a brief outline of what went on, but she hadn’t yet gone into any great detail.”

“She’s the Queen,” said Vlad. “And no, I’m not hurt. She did try to tear me apart, though.”

“My God! What did you do?” Arissa’s concern was genuine as she said this.

Vlad shrugged and finished his drink. “I knocked her out. Well! I suppose I should get back now – just wanted to congratulate you, my dear. You’re the only one in who knows how many centuries to finally tell that self-important diva what-for. And you were right, too. You know, I suggested you date this fine gentleman here for a reason.” He patted her hand, stood, and left the bar without explaining what in the world he’d meant by that.

By the time he got back to the church, things had escalated. Blood had been spilled. Not anyone’s in the room, of course, but several bottles of the stuff had been flung in an attempt to damage one member or another. Rather a dumb move, since all of them could move fast enough to avoid being struck by a thrown object, even if the thrower was equally strong and fast.

Vlad stood in the doorway, arms crossed, observing the broken glass, blood puddles, and one or two wrestling matches taking place along the sides of the room. Kyria, he noted, had fully recovered, and was talking in a furious undertone to Gaylord. He watched a while longer, got bored, and decided it was time to put an end to all the nonsense.

No one – not even Kyria – really knew the extent of Vlad’s powers, mainly because he never let any of them see what he could do. In the old days, however, when things had been less civilized, many a vampire had gone up in flames before realizing he’d pissed off the wrong undead. Not that he was in the mood for incinerating anyone just yet. But there were other things he could do that were every bit as impressive, if less deadly. May as well start with that, he decided.

Taking a moment to concentrate, he closed his eyes and stepped into the room. He raised his arms, stopped a few feet in, and the lights flickered.

No one seemed to notice and the yelling, wrestling and bickering continued.

Vlad raised his face to the ceiling and opened his eyes. They were completely white. He made a crescent of his arms as he raised them higher and brilliant flashes of light sparked from one set of fingertips to the other.

“Oh, shit!” said someone.

And the