Mrs. Dracula: Vampire Anthology Page 7

  “The pass is clear enough now but I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  Hope couldn’t move as Anna floated closer to her. Close enough her warm breath touched Hope’s neck, giving her gooesbumps. As hard as she tried, her body was no longer under her control and she stood rigidly in place.

  “I want what any creature of the night wants.”

  “My blood.” Hope’s voice trembled.

  “No, a distraction.”

  Anna reached up to pull the pendant from her neck, Hope saw the glint of its sharp edge it just before it cut into her stomach. Pain seared threw her and she fell to the forest floor. With each beat of her heart she felt the blood spilling from her body. Her face looked up at the monster with confusion.

  “I don’t care for the taste of innocence, but my friends don’t mind. While they feast on you, your Papa will be too busy to chase after me. Thanks for the help getting away.” Mrs. Dracula flipped the hood back over her head. “Wish you could live to see me again.”

  Hope watched her enemy mount the horse and disappear into the woods. Laying there in the cold snow with her own blood ebbing from her, there was very little she could do but pray her father found her in time. Within a few minutes she heard rustling nearby and called out for help. She stopped when she heard the howling begin. With her eyes closed, Hope knew her father would only be finding her body.

  SPRING BREAK

  Kasondra Morin

  Trina studied herself in the mirror. Her bright pink hair fell in waves past her shoulders and shimmered with a toss of her head. She smiled, making sure her lipstick lay perfectly on her mouth. The modern woman took so much for granted when it came to beauty products; she had been keeping an eye on the evolution of the industry since the start.

  The man behind her thrashed, but the rope binding him to the bed held firm. She glanced at him through their shared images and caught the question beneath the terror in his eyes.

  “Reflections, yes,” she began, “we have them. We started that little rumor when mirrors were first invented. It was a handy way to declare your innocence. We can also go out in the sunlight and enter churches.” She giggled and smoothed her skirt. “Now tell me how pretty I look.”

  He growled behind the gag and jerked against his bonds again.

  Trina clucked her tongue softly. “None of that. We can’t have you tearing your IV line out. All of your blood would be wasted and I’d have to kill an extra person to make up for it. We don’t want that. So, be still or the next one is going in your neck. It’s unpleasant.” She replaced the full collection bag with an empty one. “I guess it doesn’t matter. You’ll be too tired to fight in a moment.”

  She sighed and lowered herself into a nearby chair. Waiting for them to bleed out had become the most frustrating part. It used to be she could drink her fill and break into their memory so they forgot what happened. However, the slurry of drugs these kids were on, both illegal and prescribed, put a serious damper in her mind control. It wasn’t as consistent as it used it be. She chuckled to herself. How many people had gone out to party only to wake up with random spots they passed off as bug bites, a weak feeling easily blamed on a hangover, and no memory of her drinking a pint of their vital red stuff the night before? These days, they woke up remembering her face at least and incriminating details at most.

  So, she killed them instead.

  Years ago, she figured out she could live on two pints a week. The average adult male had eight to ten pints of the red stuff pumping through his otherwise useless body. Draining a single body could feed her for a couple of months. It wasn’t her best life but it kept her off the local radar. No one really cared if a few frat boys went missing during Spring Break. Sometimes she staged an elaborate accident so the deaths were blamed on alcohol and drug abuse.

  Besides, the local cutie wasn’t where the fingers pointed first. Being forever in her twenties had to have a few advantages.

  She sighed and tugged some of her hair to the forefront before letting it go to slide across her face. Maybe she’d change things up and go brown next time. Something normal. But it had taken over a year to lighten it enough to go pink after her black-haired-goth era. She hummed a thoughtful note and studied the strands. Maybe something more pastel next time …

  The man on the bed wheezed a bit before coughing, the sound thick in his chest. Trina checked the bag by her feet with a frown. It was a bit early for him to be so close to death.

  “When was the last time you ate a vegetable or drank something without booze in it?” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You’re going to die faster now. It’s your own fault.” She stood and gripped his hair to force his eyes on hers. “Humans. So weak. So stupid. So … fragile.”

  His neck snapped with a clean crack sound. Trina grumbled the entire time she cleaned up the blood and body. She once had a legion of followers to do this for her. In those days, she never had to get her hands dirty. Her husband, the famous Dracula, had insisted they have minions to do the unappealing parts that came with vampirism. When she left him, she left behind the luxury of never scrubbing out blood stains herself. Her freedom came with a price, which manifested itself in a hefty dry-cleaning bill.

  Trina did a slow turn in front of the mirror to make sure she didn’t have blood on her new outfit. She grabbed her purse and headed out the door for another night of hunting.

  Being a predator in the human world wasn’t much different from the animal world.

  Trina watched a group of guys who had taken up residence in a corner at the club. She tended to pick off men. For one, they were much more likely to run off into the night with a strange, attractive, woman. They also had more blood volume than the average woman. Girls watched out for each other. Boys slapped high-fives as she led the victim to his eventual death.

  She sipped her drink and observed her prey. She would never pick the loudest, brashest of the bunch. No, people noticed when the popular guy went missing. The dude on the edge of the group, the one who didn’t quite look like he belonged, the guy who didn’t quite fit… he was her choice. She wanted the easily forgotten. She wanted the unpopular; the rest of the group would basically force him into her arms and he would go because he wanted to fit in with the crowd.

  Someone shoved a drink under her nose without warning. “You look thirsty.”

  She turned her head and took an obvious sip of the cocktail already in her hand. “Do I?”

  The man, she used the term loosely, stood in front of her with a grin. “I got this specifically for you. Can I at least get a thank you?”

  She sniffed at the drink. Roofied, of course. She studied his face, committing every detail to memory. “Well,” she purred, “I’m covered for now. I’m actually meeting someone. Will you be around tomorrow? I’d love to show my appreciation.”

  The guy ran a hand down her bare arm. “For you, sweetness, I’ll come back.”

  Trina grit her teeth behind her flirty smile. “I’ll meet you here at the same time tomorrow.” She licked her bottom lip. “Don’t be late, okay?”

  She would kill him. Slowly. She would rip his fingers off one by one and watch him beg for mercy. She’d had centuries to learn the best torture techniques at the foot of the masters and she would bring them out for him. She wouldn’t drink a single ounce of his hateful blood, though.

  Trina had a low tolerance for men who took advantage of women. Yes, she killed to survive. She admitted her lifestyle had its faults. But she wouldn’t allow men who assaulted for sport to live. She looked at it as her way of giving back to the community. And if they suffered in the name of public service, who really cared?

  She turned her attention back to the crowd of men she’d been watching. Her chosen prey sat on the outside edge of a corner booth. One of his feet sat awkwardly in the walkway because he couldn’t shimmy in far enough to sit completely. She watched as he leaned forward, listening intently before cuing up a
laugh half a second behind everyone else to pretend he’d heard the joke being told. He started talking but no one paid his story any mind. The girl perched on the alpha male’s lap gave the poor guy a pitying glance.

  Trina set her glass on the top of the bar with a hearty thump. She summoned her most eye-catching walk. She referred to it as her “Slut Strut” and it hadn’t failed her in hundreds of years. She could feel the heat of dozens of gazes on her. A simple walk through the crowd left a wake of lustful energy in her stead.

  She slid up to the table and took her time making eye-contact with every occupant. The men eyed her with open want and a few licked their lips. She made efforts to appear unfazed, open disgust tended to be a mood killer, until she got to her golden boy on the end.

  “Hi, I’m Trina.” She batted her lashes before biting demurely at the corner of her mouth.

  One of the guys toward the middle leaned in her direction. “I’m Steve.”

  “That’s nice.” She tossed him a light glance and eyebrow raise.

  “Jason,” her boy blurted out. “I’m Jason.”

  A slow smile crept across her features. It was a pity he was actually cute. He lacked the hostile masculinity of his counterparts but she’d come to like that in a man.

  “Do you want to dance with me?” she asked him.

  He leaped to his feet and extended his hand for hers. The giggle that left her was completely involuntary. Shame he’d end up exsanguinated in her bed like the rest of them. Maybe she’d keep him around for a few weeks and play with him.

  Turning him never once entered her mind. She’d made that mistake over and over again. The purity of her vampiric bloodline meant a sire link usually followed the turn. His vampire self would feel unable to live without her presence. She found it annoying and hadn’t turned anyone in the last decade because of it.

  Jason turned and pulled her gently against his body. Her hands fluttered across his shoulders and biceps before settling close to his elbows. He gave her an easy smile and encouraging nod. God, he was sweet. She’d save his blood for a special occasion. Like drinking fine wine for celebrations.

  “Tell me about yourself,” he insisted. “I can’t believe you’re here all alone. No way a girl like you stays single for long.”

  “I was sort of married once.” She gave a little turn and a slow shimmy down the length of his body. “More like he demanded I become his forever, changed the very fiber of my being, and I trailed behind him for what felt like ages.”

  “Wait, you’re married!? How old are you?”

  She hid her feral grin before blinking innocent eyes over her shoulder. “Older than I look.”

  Jason grabbed her hips and turned her to face him. He slammed his lips against hers in a kiss so heated and insistent it was as if he were drowning without a taste of her.

  She nipped at his lower lip as they parted. She checked her teeth just enough to avoid breaking skin. Her eyes slid over to the table where he’d been seated only moments before. His “friends” wore matching expressions of lustful rage. She blew the alpha-douche a kiss and waved her fingertips.

  Without another word to Jason, Trina took his hand and began leading him out of the club.

  Trina squealed as Jason tossed her on the bed. They’d barely kept their clothes on during the ride to Trina’s home. She’d tipped their driver heavily in thanks for not throwing their horny asses out of the car.

  He pulled his shirt off and Trina watched the play of lean muscles underneath his pale skin as he crawled up the mattress toward her.

  “I have to admit something.” She reached up and retrieved the restraints from under the pillows.

  He groaned. “You want me to tie you up, sweetheart?”

  She bit her lip. “Not quite…” she trailed off as her gaze found his bare wrists.

  He groaned again and ground his pelvis into hers. “I am so down for this.”

  She shimmied over to give him room to lie down. As soon as he was on his back, she straddled his hips and began reaching for his hands. She stretched up and began securing him in the restraints, giggling as he tried to press a kiss on any skin his mouth could reach.

  Trina thought back to the box underneath the bed where she kept her medical supplies. She’d spent time attending medical school sometime ago and kept her stash fully stocked. But that would come later.

  She licked a hot stripe from his collarbone to his ear. She could hear his blood pulsing wildly in his veins. Her tongue pressed against the sensitive tips of her fangs. One taste before she started draining him properly …

  A vigorous knock at the door made her freeze. She never got visitors. Well, there was one time a victim had gotten out of his gag and made too much noise, but answering the door in full fetish wear ended any questions before they began.

  They hadn’t even gotten to anything interesting anyway; so it wasn’t a noise complaint. Who the hell was at her front door? Why wouldn’t they just stop pounding and leave?

  Trina licked across Jason’s lips. “I’ll be right back.”

  She unzipped her dress and pulled the top half to her waist. Whoever it was needed to know exactly what they were interrupting.

  She turned the lock and threw the door open. “Can I fucking help you?”

  The glare of a flashlight overtook the doorway. “Trina Sullivan?”

  Trina put a hand up to shield her eyes. “Again, can I help you?”

  One of her hands was yanked behind her back. A handcuff clicked shut around her wrist. “You are under arrest for suspicion of kidnapping.”

  Both hands behind her back, Trina snarled. “Excuse me?”

  A man shoved past her. “We have a warrant to search the premises.”

  Several men pushed their way into the room and began digging through her stuff. One man pushed open the bedroom door and yelped in surprise. Oh yeah, Jason …

  She could hear a confused cop offering reassurance as an embarrassed Jason tried to explain. Trina sighed. She’d actually liked him.

  Jason ran past where she was standing without giving her another glance.

  “I’ll call you!” Trina shouted at his back.

  A tall, mountain of a man stepped into her line of vision. “Ma’am, my name is Officer Wilson. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “What is this about?” She didn’t bother masking her extreme irritation.

  “We got a call a couple of days ago about a missing kid. His mom said he wasn’t answering his phone. Now, we normally don’t give much care to overprotective mothers, but his friends started reporting him missing as well.”

  “And this brings you to my home why?”

  “His mom is one of those helicopter parents,” the officer continued. “This kid is just out of high school. He probably used a fake ID to get into the club. Anyway, his mom has one of those nanny-state, tracker apps installed on his phone. The phone reported as having been here until it lost power. Wouldn’t you know, your pretty face showed up on the security camera leaving with the boy in question.”

  “He came here, we fucked, his phone died, and he left. Tell Mommy Dearest her boy was good in the sack. Are we done? You ruined a perfectly good evening.”

  “I asked around about you. Apparently, you bring home suitors pretty often.”

  Trina could feel her fangs itching to descend and rip out his throat. “Your point?”

  “I checked the other clubs cameras for several nights this past week. Every guy you left with is nowhere to be found. Care to explain that to me?”

  Trina shrugged. “If I’m bringing them home so often, do you think I care what happens after they leave?”

  “You might not care, but a judge did. His kid went missing a few years back so you could say it’s a sore spot for him. He was kind enough to sign a search warrant.”

  They heard an exclamation of surprise from the next room. “Uh, sir… you might want to come in here.”

  Wilson motioned for her to follow. “What exactly a
m I about to find?”

  Trina glared in silence. Her body vibrated with rage. She could break the flimsy chain on the handcuffs in an instant. She glanced toward the front door. Could she run? Barefoot and half naked? She wasn’t new to picking up and starting over, but doing so with more than the clothes around her waist usually made things easier.

  The men had laid her medical supplies out on the bed. Needles, tubing, and collection bags sat in neat rows. Wilson raised an eyebrow in challenge.

  Trina smirked. “Medical kink.”

  Another shout came from the kitchen. Trina sighed. That settled it. They’d found her blood stash. There was no coming back from tonight.

  A young officer came into the room holding a bag of the red stuff with a shocked expression. “There’s a dozen of these in her fridge.”

  Officer Wilson leaned his head to his walkie. “I’m gonna need backup.”

  Trina cleared her throat to cover the clink of metal snapping as she pulled her hands toward the front of her body. “See guys, I can’t let you do that.”

  Trina checked to make sure she’d gotten all of the blood from under her nails before thumbing through the contacts in her phone. She had one thing to take care of before she skipped town …

  “Hey, Jason? I’m so sorry about earlier. Let me make it up to you?”

  JUST A LITTLE FUN

  Andra Dill

  Despite what my estranged husband would have you believe, I’m not a reckless thrill seeker nor a petulant child. It’s just that I hate to be bored. I may have finally found the perfect city for me, Chicago. The Windy City’s nocturnal offerings have kept me highly entertained. In the six nights since my arrival, I’ve danced at the Trianon Ballroom until my feet ached, spent a thrilling night wagering on bare knuckle fights, and almost gotten arrested during a speakeasy raid, and all that without a single dead body in my wake.

  Tonight, I ventured out with no destination in mind and found myself trailing flapper girls. They lured me in with their energy and brightly colored dresses. Adorned in pearls, feathers, and sequins, they resembled ornate butterflies. The cluster swirled down Orleans Street brandishing cigarette holders like swords and chattering about potential romances, engagements, and break ups.