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“Maybe I’m the possessive type, too. Maybe now that she’s asked for my help, it’s like she’s part of the family. So to speak.”

“Part of the family? You fucking kidding me here?”

“Nope.”

“You Italian? This some kind of dago thing?”

“I said it’s like she’s part of the family. My family,” I said, “and I protect what’s mine.”

“That’s it? It’s just a macho thing with you?”

“No, it’s more than that,” I admitted. I gestured to the torture and pain motif in which his office was decorated. “But, seriously, I doubt you would understand.”

“Mmm, probably not. I’m not into sentimentality and that bullshit. Not anymore.”

“What happened? What changed you?”

His smiled faded to a remote coldness. “I learned that there was something better. Better than family, better than blood ties. Better than any of this ordinary shit.”

“You found religion?” I said.

“It’s a ‘higher order’ sort of thing that I really don’t want to explain and I doubt you’d understand.”

“I might surprise you.”

“I don’t think that’s possible. But we might surprise you. In fact I can pretty fucking well guarantee it.”

“Rock and roll,” I said.

I straightened and turned toward the four goons. They took up positions like compass points. The office was big, but not big enough to give me room to maneuver. They were going to fall on me like a wall, and they knew it. The guy with the gun even snugged it back into his shoulder rig. They were that confident, and they were smiling like kids at a carnival.

“You shouldn’t have bothered Mr. Skye,” said the guy in front of me. He was the gun who’d holstered his gun. He stood on the East point of the compass. “You should have—”

I kicked him in the nuts. I really didn’t need to hear the speech.

I’m not that big but I can kick like a Rockette. I felt bones break and he screamed like a nine year old girl. Dumbass should have kept his gun out.

I stepped backward off of him and put an elbow into West’s face. It had all of my mass in motion behind it. That time I heard bones break and he went down so fast that I wondered if I’d snapped his neck.

That left South and North. South spent a half second too long looking shocked, so I jumped at him with a leaping knee — the only Muay Thai kick I know — and drove him all the way to the wall. By the time North closed in I’d grabbed South by the ears and slammed him skull-first into a replica of a torture rack. Blood splattered in a Jackson Pollack pattern.

I pivoted and rushed to intercept North who was barreling at me with a lot of furious speed; so I veered left and clothes-lined him with my stiff right forearm. He did a pretty impressive back flip and landed face down on the black-painted hardwood floor.

If this was an action movie everything would switch to slow motion as the four thugs toppled to the ground and I turned slowly looking badass to face the now startled and unprotected villain.

The real world is a lot less accommodating.

I caught movement behind me, figuring it for Skye going after my gun, so I whirled and made ready to launch into a diving tackle.

Only it wasn’t Skye.

It was East and West getting to their feet. West’s face was smeared with blood from his broken nose, but he was smiling. As I watched he took his nose between thumb and forefinger and snapped it into place, then spit a hocker of blood and snot onto the floor.

North was chuckling as he rose; and behind me I could hear South shifting to stand behind me again. I turned in a slow circle. They were all smiling. They shouldn’t have been able to. They should have been sprawled on the floor and I should have been giving some kind of smart-ass speech as I closed in to lay a beating on Skye. That was the script I’d written in my head.

What the hell was this shit?

“Surprise!” said Skye dryly.

“What the hell are these fuckers taking?

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you?”

“Try me.”

“Blood,” he said.

“What the—”

And I looked more closely at the smiles. Lots of white teeth. Lots of long, pointy white teeth.

“Oh, balls,” I said.

“Yeah, kind of cool, huh?”

“Vampires?” I said.

“Yeah.”

“Actual vampires.”

Skye laughed. The four — well, let’s call a spade a spade—vampires laughed with him.

Even I laughed.

“Geez. When shit goes wrong it goes all the way wrong, doesn’t it,” I said.

“On the up side,” said Skye, “you did win the first round. Nice moves.”

“Thanks.”

The four of them circled me. My pulse jumped from ‘uh-oh’ to ‘oh shit’. It was cold in his office, but I was starting to sweat pretty heavily.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” I said. “You’re one, too? Am I right?”

“A recent convert,” he admitted.

“So…that whole weight lose, going all weird on the missus that was-?”

“A transition process. It’s not like they show in the movies, you know. Takes weeks. The whole metabolism changes.”

“No kidding.”

One of the vampires faked a lunge to psyche me out and I jumped a foot in the air. I’m pretty sure I didn’t yelp like a Chihuahua, but I wouldn’t swear to that in court. They all laughed at that, too. I didn’t.

“Which explains why you lost all that weight.”

“Who needs steroids and free-weights,” he agreed and spread his hands. “This package comes with honest to God super strength. I’m like Spider-man and Wolverine rolled into one. Super strong and I heal from damn near anything.”

“Could you be more specific on that last point?”

“Cute.”

“Worth a try.” I looked at them, at their grinning, evil faces. My nuts were trying to crawl up inside of my chest cavity. I mean…fucking vampires?

“Weird thing was,” I said, “I was starting to build a case in my head about your wife. You losing weight and getting pale, blaming her for it all, and you saying you know what she is. Is she a vampire, too? Is she the one who bit you?”

Skye laughed. “Christ no. And she’s not a succubus either. She’s just a nagging, soul-draining, passive-aggressive, codependent bitch.”

“Wow. You’re really a chauvinistic prick, aren’t you?”

“Better than being pussy whipped.”

I dropped it. I had bigger fish to fry than trying to bring this macho jackass into the Twenty-first century. Namely the fact that I was in a roomful of vampires.

I know I keep harping on that, but really…it’s not the sort of shit that happens all the time to me. Or, like…ever.

“Say, man,” I said to Skye, “any chance we can roll back this tape to the point where we were still friends? I just walk out of here and we all call it a day?”

Skye made a face as if pretending to consider it. “Mmm…no, I don’t see that happening.”

“You want to make a deal of some kind?”

“Nah,” he said. “You got nothing I want. Except the O-positive.”

“AB neg,” I corrected.

“Never tried that.”

“You wouldn’t like it. Goes right to your hips.”

The wattage on his smile was dimmer. Jaunty banter can buy only so many seconds and then it’s back to business.

I tried to keep my face neutral, but my pulse was like a jazz drum solo.

“I’m going to throw something out here,” I said. I could hear a tremor in my voice. Fuck.