Page 27

Story: Your Mr. Vampire

Juan wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Early tomorrow morning. My Amtrak train leaves Union Station at 7AM to Orlando. One-way ticket.” He glanced at me. “Just like I discussed with Natasha.”

“Good.” I reached into my jacket inside pocket and pulled out a thick envelope, tossing it onto the mattress next to the wrapped body. “Twenty thousand. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

Juan picked up the envelope, thumbing through the bills with a slight smile. The amount was clearly more than he expected. “This is generous. Tell Natasha thank you for me.”

“I will.” I straightened my jacket. “You played your part well, amigo. Getting her here, alone, distracted. The door left unlocked. All according to plan.”

“She never suspected anything.” Juan said, a note of pride slipping into his voice. “She thought I was just some guy looking to get laid.”

“And instead, you were bait.” I allowed myself a small smile.

“I think I might take some acting classes.” Juan offered.

Not exactly what I thought the pretty boy was going to say.

“Whatever floats your boat. Just make sure you’re on that train tomorrow. You don’t want to be anywhere near Chicago.”

“I can help you get the body out of here.” Juan offered, tucking the envelope into his backpack on the night table.

“I got it.”

“Okay, I’m just happy I could help Natasha.”

Juan ran a hand through his hair. His gaze settled on the wrapped form of Marisol. “It’s crazy, you know? Vampires. I always thought it was bullshit.”

“The world is full of all kinds of monsters. Hey, I got a question.” I was just curious.

“Yeah.”

“How do you know Natasha? I asked.

“We met at The Castle about a year ago.”

“And?”

“She used to use me to get her hot girls. You know, some girls are only into girls when there’s a guy around.”

“Oh.”

Juan grabbed a sweatshirt from a hook on the back of his door. As he pulled it over his head.

“That thing Natasha mentioned before, about you know me maybe getting to be like you someday. Was that real? Or just part of getting me to help take down Marisol?”

I studied him for a moment. His eagerness was transparent. The lure of immortality, of power, of being something more than human. It was a desire I recognized.

“If you stay out of trouble.” I said carefully, “and if you live that long. Natasha will consider it.”

His eyes lit up. “Four years. I can do that. I’ll only be twenty-eight.” He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “Here’s the key to the bike. Natasha loaned it to me so I could get around, but I can’t take it with me.”

Natasha gave this pretty boy a motorcycle. How generous, when she was a bitch to me from the day I met her.

Juan tossed me the keys, and I pocketed them. I was already plotting the next steps. I could come back to get the motorcycle later and return it to Natasha.

I lifted Marisol’s body over my shoulder. “Have your ass on the train. Don’t fuck up.” I warned.

“I’m leaving as soon as I pack.”

“How are you getting to Union Station?”