There was a low rumble of agreement from several voices in the room.
"Luis!" Another male barked. "How many times do I have to tell you? Image is everything! You dress like a biology professor and speak like Mr. Rogers. Of course, they don't fear you! You're there to kill them, not … .not-teach them the ABC's!"
Another whimper escaped from Luis' mouth. "I know. I know," he whined. "But I can't bring myself to growl or wear leather pants. It's just not … me."
No. Clearly he's not cut out for such manly clothing. He'd be a disgrace throughout the lands to all vampires and other supernatural bad boys alike, thought Niccolo.
"Luis,"-was it the leader, Franc, speaking?-"being an Obscuro is an honor. And if you're not going to uphold our ways, then you'll be demoted to a coffin boy or, if lucky, my manicurist."
Niccolo winced. That sounds low. A coffin boy was the equivalent of a human's pool boy, but without the sexy connotation. And a vampire's manicurist … well, let's just say that if there were a Vampire Dirty Jobs show-Niccolo had watched a lot of television recently to acclimate quickly-being a vampire's manicurist would be right up there with vampire dry cleaner.
"No. Please, give me one more chance. I beg you. I can be evil. I can do it!" Luis argued.
"All right, but I want to hear you growl like you mean it this time," said their leader impatiently. "I want to hear you bring terror to my ears-like we showed you."
"Grrrr. I'm here to suck your blood," Luis said sheepishly.
Franc growled. "No! That's not it at all. Say it like you really mean it! Grrr! I'm going to fucking drink your blood!"
Evil vampire lessons? Niccolo crept up the stairs, shaking his head. He'd never heard such an oddity. He signaled the men to follow him outside. As soon as they'd gathered around, he told them what he'd heard, but instead of being disgusted by the undignified behavior, they looked at each other shamefully.
"Am I missing something?" Niccolo whispered. Several awkward moments passed. "I demand you tell me."
Viktor whispered, "We-um-role play, too. It's part of our HPT process."
Were these vampire soldiers off their undead rockers? "HPT? What is this?"
"High Performance Teams. It's a technique to build trust, motivate, and increase output."
"You know, sir," one of the younger male vampires cut in. "We're only as strong as our weakest link."
Niccolo's men grumbled in agreement, nodding.
Oh, for bloody heaven's sake! What had the world of ruthless warrior vampires come to? Where were the ethics from the days of old? Only the strong survive. Dog eat dog. Carpe diem!
Niccolo shrugged. "I cannot deny how well the team works together. I must look for the golden lining."
"That's silver, Sir," whispered Sentin.
Niccolo frowned. This new English was very confusing. Any self-respecting vampire would want his coffin lined with gold-it was worth far more than silver. "Very well. I do not believe in coffins, anyway … On my count, we rush the room and take them out. I heard twelve voices below, evenly distributed throughout the room. Watch out for the humans they brought in earlier. They might be used as shields."
The men nodded. Niccolo counted down. Then they rushed back into the building toward the stairs. The room was dark, except for a few small candles burning in the center of the room. The two women lay in a dead heap in the corner, and the Obscuros, including Franc, were sitting in a circle on the floor. Something about that visual disgusted Niccolo's inner warrior. Men talking, sitting on pillows … sharing? He shivered down to his alpha male core.
The Obscuros sprang to their feet, and the entire room instantly converted into a tornado of vampires whirling through the air, trying to outmaneuver one another. Blood splattered in every direction and then turned into a gray sticky ash. They were no match for Niccolo's trained men. The room filled with clouds of dust as the Obscuros were shot with wooden bullets or beheaded with Niccolo's sharp sword. Suddenly, Niccolo heard a cough and a struggle.
"Don't-don't move. Or, I'll hu-hurt him," someone stuttered.
Niccolo recognized the voice. It was Luis, the one who'd been speaking early. He was likely just some poor man who became a vampire against his will and never knew he had a choice to be good or bad.
Niccolo held out his hands. "Put the knife down, Luis. You don't want to hurt him. We're good vampires. You're good, too. I heard you speaking earlier. Drop the knife, and you can work with us."
"No!" Luis began to cry again. "You'll just make me your coffin boy! And, there's no such thing as good vampires!"
"Listen," Niccolo reasoned. "I'm over thirteen hundred years old. Viktor, who you're holding there, is almost as old as I am and nearly impossible to kill. He has also been my friend for ten centuries. I would never allow you to hurt him and live. You have no way out, but to surrender."
Niccolo saw an easy smile flash across Viktor's face. Viktor was allowing Luis to hold the knife to his throat and giving him a chance to back down.
"Look, Luis. I'm going to count to three." Niccolo smiled calmly at the man. "Then you're going to drop the knife and come with us."
Niccolo saw Luis' free hand reach in his pocket. Bloody inferno. "One, two-"
Niccolo rushed Luis with such speed that the man never saw the sword swipe toward his neck. Luis' head fell to the floor and exploded in a cloud of gray dust.
Viktor shook his head as he looked at the remains and noticed a gun lying there. He picked it up and inspected the bullets. "Wooden. I think that dude was really going to off me."
Niccolo sheathed his sword on his back. He wasn't sure what Viktor expected him to do. Clearly the protocols between males had changed over the last three centuries. Niccolo wanted to be the great leader he'd always been; but this was uncharted territory, completely out of his comfort-zone.
A true leader shows no fear when his men need him to be strong. Niccolo closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Viktor, gently patting him on the back. "There, there, my brother. I am here for you."
Viktor stopped breathing and Niccolo suddenly heard the other men whispering, shocked. Perhaps even disgusted.
"Niccolo? Why are you … hugging me?"
Niccolo pushed away quickly, his face burned red-hot. "I thought you might need comfort. You know, like those other … " Niccolo grumbled under his breath and swept up the stairs, barely escaping the humiliation of this men bursting into hysterical laughter.
He sifted off to the van, grumbling and growling under his breath. "Insolent, unappreciative … " He suddenly caught the flicker of movement on the monitor.
Niccolo drew his sword and sifted back into the warehouse. Viktor and the men were emerging from the stairwell still roaring with laughter just as a shadow from the darkness appeared behind Viktor.
Niccolo shoved Viktor out of the way just as a thin shining blade barreled down on Viktor's neck. Niccolo kicked the attacking vampire and watched him fall backward. Niccolo thrust his sword underneath the male, severing his head and turning him instantly to ash.
"Ha! Who's the real warrior now?" Niccolo bellowed as he marched out of the building, chin held high. "That's right, bitches!"
Chapter 6
Helena peeked through the crack of the bedroom door then quickly slammed it shut. Damn. The scary blond guy is still there. Just like the last fifteen times she'd checked.
Eventually, she had to find food and something more than tap water from the adjoining master bath. It had been one entire day since Niccolo dumped her in the posh penthouse. Where the hell was he?
After convincing her to come with him, he put her on a nine pm flight to New York but didn't board. Five nerve-racking hours later, the plane touched down, and there he was, waiting outside the plane doors with an inviting smile on his face.
I guess Homeland Security rules don't apply to vampires.
"We must hurry," he'd said with a wink, "the sun is rising, and I need my strength today."
Ooh. That sounds sexy, she'd thought as he took her hand, gave it a languid kiss, and silently led her outside where a sleek black limo waited curbside.
"Oh, no!" Helena turned to go back toward the terminal. "I forgot my luggage."
Niccolo patted her hand. "No worries, mio cuore. Your belongings are already at our new home."
"Our" new home? She couldn't quite process that thought just yet. Instead, she asked Niccolo about his mysterious travel tricks.
"There will be time later for Q&A," he'd said.
But there wouldn't be, she'd later realize.
Her jaw unhinged when she saw the opulence of the luxury residential building adjacent to Central Park. It was flabbergasting enough to be in such a big city. But it was downright unbelievable when she saw the posh lobby with über modern velvet couches and a crystal chandelier the size of a VW bug.