The backstage area was deserted and I led our friendly little group to the very distant back right—as far away from Sunny as possible. Didn’t need her butting in and grabbing ears. I could take care of this all by my lonesome and then some.

It was slightly dank and quite dark, but no one had any difficulty seeing. We were Vamps. Some of us were far smarter than others, but that wasn’t my problem it was theirs.

“The odds are pretty bad here,” I commented, cracking my neck and stretching my arms.

The walls were concrete block and the floor was cement. I stepped out of my stilettos and tested the slickness of the floor with my bare feet—wasn’t slippery at all. This worked well for me. A nice hard floor and even harder walls.

“Tough titties,” one of the D’s hissed, flipping her blonde hair and pointing a very manicured nail at me. “You never should have shown up at our pageant.”

“Didn’t see your name on it,” I shot back sarcastically. “My bad.”

Tiara covered her grunt of laughter with a cough. Claudia just bounced lightly on her toes in anticipation.

“We’re not pleased with more competition,” another D growled while applying an extra coat of gloss to her already blindingly shiny lips.

“So we’re just going to eliminate you a little early,” the leader said with a shrill laugh as her fangs descended and her eyes glowed green with the excitement.

“Not our problem that your odds suck. You should’ve considered that before you moved in on our territory,” big boobed D snapped.

“Actually,” I said sounding as bored as possible. “I meant your odds.”

“Come again?” the D on the far left of the group demanded with an unladylike grunt.

“Your odds suck—not mine.” I spoke slowly and clearly as if English was their second language.

Turning on Tiara and Claudia, the leader of the D’s got up in their faces. Tiara’s frightening hiss of displeasure had the idiot taking a step back. However, proving that she was truly daft, she snarled at my girls and laid out her ground rules.

“You two will stay out of this if you value your lives,” she hissed. “You should actually thank us for taking care of a problem.”

“Wouldn’t think of horning in on your demise,” Tiara said much to the confusion of the all the D’s.

“I’m just here to watch and learn,” Claudia said with her hands up in surrender and her eyes alight with mischief.

“Damn right,” a D said. “We’ll show you losers how it should be done. You don’t mess with the best because the best will take you out and then we’ll…”

“Excuse me.” I raised my hand interrupting her and rolled my eyes. “Are you done with your monologue yet? Getting bored here.”

“Insolent bitch,” the D growled as she came at me with her fangs bared. “I’ll show you bored.”

“Bring it, honey,” I said as my grin grew wide. I really did need a tension release and the D’s would suffice just fine.

Standing still and letting them come at me gave me the distinct advantage. They were pissed, sloppy and stupid—and about to go down.

The first D—or D#1 as she would hence be known—advanced like a bat out of Hell on steroids—she had to be running at sixty miles an hour. Impressive for her, even better for me. I simply stepped to my right and stuck my foot out. Her bloodcurdling shriek when she tripped and went flying like a tornado into the wall was music to my ears. The sickening thud she made as she hit the cinderblock wall was all kinds of unfortunately awesome. She was down for the count for a few minutes.

D#2 and D#3 screeched in shock and advanced at a somewhat more controlled pace. I checked my manicure and waited. This was far too easy. Of course the obvious slight of me examining my nails made them furious and they increased their speed. Shooting off the ground and into the air as they came for me confused them. Without giving them a second to recoup, I dropped back to the floor behind them and roundhouse kicked D#2 in the head, sending her into the heap with D#1. D#3 felt the wrath of my normally lethal scissor kick. I angled ever so slightly as not to break her neck, but I crushed her throat just for the fun of it.

D#4 and D#5 tried to sneak up behind me—not smart. Back flipping over their heads, I slammed my foot into D#4’s back and broke it. Then I punched D#5 in the stomach so violently she doubled over with a scream of pain. Dropping to the ground and fanning my leg out, I expertly knocked the feet from beneath D#4. Quickly straddling her I landed a harsh left jab to her face. The crunch was sickening, but I couldn’t even take a second to enjoy it as D#5 was still gunning for me—or so I thought.

D#5 was slowly backing away with a look of horror on her face. “What in the Hell kind of Vampyre are you?”

“A fucking awesome one,” Tiara announced grandly and gave me a thumbs up.

“Are we done with our chat?” I asked the bloody crew.

They crawled back to their feet with effort.

“I have no front teeth,” D#4 whimpered. “How can I smile with no teeth?”

“Guess you should have thought about that before you tried to teach the new girl a lesson,” I said with a smile and a curtsey. “We have three hours till show time. Maybe they’ll grow back.”

“Orrrrrrrr,” Tiara added with an evil smirk, casually leaning against the wall next to a happily impressed and wide-eyed Claudia. “You could knock out all of their teeth for showing you such disrespect.”

“I could,” I nodded in agreement, pretending to ponder the idea. “However, I can think of another way these wastes of space can make it up to me.”

The head D, the one that hit the wall, stood and then lowered her head in a show of deference. “Don’t know who you are or what you are, but not a hair is out of place on your head and we’re all pretty messed up.”

“Your point?” I demanded.

“My point is we will pay restitution to you for our misjudgment. You’re definitely not one to screw with.”

“I don’t know. Misjudgment is a mild word for attacking a Royal Guard,” Claudia said, tsking at the now very worried D’s. “Venus has the ear and protection of the Prince of the North American Dominion. I think he should be told about this disgraceful attack.”

“We said we would pay,” toothless D whined, throwing a vicious glare to her posse. “I told you bitches this was a bad idea.”

“What do you want?” D#1 asked, dropping to her knees and bowing down.

The rest followed suit and I felt kind of bad for them—but not that bad. They were pathetic, but they were definitely violent. Brutal, stupid and ridiculously beautiful could come in handy.

“Do you have weapons?” I inquired.

“We do,” they answered in unison like glossy little dolls. At that moment I realized how much alike they all looked—blonde, blue eyed and stacked within an inch of their undead lives.

“Do you know how to use them?” I asked narrowing my eyes and wondering if they were as inept as Martha and Jane.

They all nodded—again in unison.

“You will meet me in my suite at 4:45. You will be armed and you will follow orders. Am I clear?”

“May I ask why?” D#2 asked.

“You may,” I said and then waited just to screw with her head.

“Umm… why?” she stammered.

“Because there’s a threat to the crown by an abomination of a Vamp. I need the entourage of said bastard to be distracted while I take him down,” I said.

“Alive,” Tiara reminded me.

“Yes, the head son of a bitch has to be taken alive,” I repeated.

“Can we kill the son of a bitch’s entourage?” D#4 asked with a gap-toothed grin.

“Yes, but let me warn you, they’ll probably be very old Master Vampyres. I think your assets,” I said referring to their ample chests, “will probably do the trick. However, I want everyone armed.”

D#3 raised her hand and waited to be called on.

“Yes?”

“Should we bring our handlers? They love killing assholes and since Sunny is off limits, I think it might be a healthy exercise for them. They would love to slaughter someone legally.”

Glancing over at Tiara, she made a sour face and then nodded.

“Bring them,” I instructed.

If it was going to be a shitshow, it may as well be a big one.

“Orders will be taken from me, Tiara, my guard Ginny, or possibly Dickie. Do you know who I’m speaking of?”

“The fuckable guy and the gorgeous gal that the idiot hit on?” D#5 asked.

“Correct, and if you say fuckable with Dickie’s name in the same sentence again, it will be the last words you ever speak,” I told her and let my eyes rove over the group so they were very clear that Dickie wasn’t available. “I want you all dressed in the skimpiest outfit you have.”

“We’re using our tits as weapons?” D#1 asked with a delighted grin.

I was wildly happy Martha and Jane weren’t present for what I was about to say. I’d never hear the end of it.

“Yes, your boobs will probably be the best weapon of distraction you have. I’d highly suggest not engaging physically with the Master Vampyres. If what you just showed me is a true display of your skills, you all suck.”

Again D#3 raised her hand.

“Yes?” I asked, checking my watch.

“Do you give lessons?”

I looked up from my timepiece at her hopeful and flawless face and considered for only a brief second. “Yes. Yes, I do, and if we all live through this, I will happily train you. Fair warning… it will be ugly and painful.”

“Works for me,” D#2 said.

“So no daggers, just knockers,” D#5 chimed in, clarifying.

Nodding and grinning at the irony of life, I repeated her mantra. “No daggers. Just knockers.”

“No killing the son of a bitch, but his friends are fair game,” D#1 said, making sure she had it straight. “Although you’d rather us smother them with our knockers.”

I closed my eyes for a second and wondered if this was a mistake, but my gut said no. My brain said yes, but my gut was the one I was going with today. Instincts were my savior lately—I just hoped they held up.

“And we should be naked,” D#4 finished off on a hideously mistaken note.

“Partially clothed would be better,” I explained with a barely straight face.

“Got it,” the said in unison.

“Alrighty then, 4:45 in suite 333. You’re all excused,” Claudia said, thankfully taking the lead. “I’d suggest wearing your swimsuit although if you happen to have some transparent lingerie at your disposal, that might be even better. And not a word of this to Sunny.”

“You want our handlers in their skivvies too?” one asked making sure she had all the instructions.

“That will be fine,” Tiara cut in before I slapped one of them. Hard.

They all skipped away babbling like the vapid gals they were. However, I would teach them to fight. They had raw skill, but very little finesse. Women should not count on anyone but themselves for defense. Having a man should be icing on the cake—not the cake itself.

“You know what you’re doing?” Tiara asked, watching the D’s flounce off.

“I’m winging it,” I told her. “If my gut doesn’t clench too badly when I make a plan, I go with it.”

“And that works?” Tiara asked doubtfully.

“I’m still here.”

“That you are, my friend. That you are.”

* * *

“So what I’m getting from this is that knockers are weapons,” Martha said nudging Jane and grinning from ear to ear.

My suite was filled to overflowing with very well endowed and practically naked female Vampyres. I had to hand it to Gareth. After the utter shock of seeing about forty mostly unclothed women, he never let his eyes drop below chin level of a single knockout in the room.

He was so getting a blowjob for that.

Letting my chin fall to my chest so the old idiots didn’t see my grin, I grunted out a noise that sounded somewhat like the word yes. They were going to be more insufferable than usual, but credit had to be given where credit was due—even if it was painful and appalling.

Standing up in front of the group looking hotter than any man had a right to, Gareth slash Dickie cleared his throat and raised his hands. The chatter stopped instantly and all eyes were glued to my beautiful man. No one but our little posse knew he was a royal, but his command of the room was unmistakable—and hot.

“Thank you ladies for being here. I want to be very clear that what we’re about to do is real and extremely dangerous—potentially deadly. The men we’re going up against are Master Vampyres,” Gareth explained in a no-nonsense tone. “If any of you feel uncomfortable with that, you may leave now with no repercussions.”

Not one single D or one handler moved an inch.

“Dickie’s correct. It’s not a game. Some of us might not come out of this alive. We want to be upfront and truthful with you,” I added.

Still not a body moved. They either didn’t get it, they had a death wish, or they were insane. If I were a gambling gal, I’d go with insane—or possibly just in awe of Dickie. Holy Hell, wait until they saw the real Gareth… they were going to freak.

“We have nothing to lose,” a striking, dark haired handler called out from the back of the group. “We’re in.”

“Explain,” Gareth said, wanting to be sure they understood the ramifications.

With the Royal Army, missions were a no-brainer. This wasn’t an army. It was a gaggle of beauty queens and their equally gorgeous handlers. Had any of them even seen battle? Had I made a huge mistake? Vampyres were very deadly by nature, but this group…

“We’re like a traveling circus,” she explained as others murmured in agreement. “A freak-show with lip gloss so to speak. As far as I know none of us have House affiliations. We just move from contest to contest—gig to gig.”

“Vampyre gypsies,” another called out.

How in the Hell was that possible? I wasn’t aware so many Vampyres were on their own in our Dominion and I’d bet my undead life Ethan and Astrid weren’t aware of the issue either.

“None of you have Houses?” Gareth asked, taken aback.

A chorus of no’s filled the suite. Unbelievable. Sheena, the not so nice Vamp who ran this area was going to have some explaining to do.

Gareth ran his hands through his hair and shot me a glance. I knew what he was thinking and I loved him even more than I did five minutes ago. I shrugged and grinned. The Guardian’s House wasn’t going to know what hit them when the bevvy of beauties arrived in Japan.

“Without going into great detail, suffice it to say I’m at liberty to give you a home. It’s in the Asian Dominion. You will be welcomed and protected there,” Gareth said.

“Are you some kind of hot guy recruiter, Dickie?” D#1 asked.

“Something like that,” he said, biting down on his full lips to hide his grin at what would be considered an offensive slight to someone of his royal bearing. “Welcome to the Guardian’s House. The Prince will be delighted to take you in.”

“Is he single?” D#4 asked, still missing her teeth.

“No, he’s not,” I said in a tone that made her take two steps back.

“He’s definitely not single,” Gareth backed me up with a wink. “However, if we don’t take Vlad alive the Prince will die.”

The gravity of the words he spoke, made my stomach knot up. It was easy to find humor in the ridiculous picture before us, but the truth was ugly.

“Is Vlad the cocksucker we’re not allowed to kill?” another handler asked.

“Yes,” Jane took over. Clearly hearing the word cocksucker inspired her. “You can’t kill the cocksucker, but he has motherfuckers with him that you can go to town on.”

“So leave the cocksucker alone and kill the motherfuckers with our tits?” someone questioned from the left side of the group.

“How in the ever loving Hell do you kill a motherfucker with your melons?” Martha demanded.

“Um… smother them?” another gal volunteered.

“No,” I shouted over the chatter that had started over the techniques on how to murder with your melons. Running my hands through my hair, I was really starting to second-guess the plan. The brainpower in the room was seriously lacking. “These are Master Vampyres we’re talking about. You will be used as a distraction method so Dickie and I can trap Vlad.”

“The cocksucker is the Impaler?” D#2 asked with a shudder.

“Yep,” Martha said. “You got it. Vlad the cocksucker Impaler is off limits. You do the booby bounce to distract his group of motherfuckers. Clear?”

They resembled a gathering of beautiful semi-nude bobble heads as their perfectly coiffed heads bounced in affirmation. Gareth glanced at me with a raised brow and I shrugged. As long as they kept the entourage at bay, we had a far better chance of taking Vlad alive—and an even better chance of coming out of this alive ourselves.

“Venus, give the specifics please,” Gareth ordered.

I responded exactly like I was trained to do. The simple fact that he regarded me as highly as Ethan did in terms of battle, calmed my soul and made me want to make him proud.

Stepping forward, I eyed the crowd. “No one works alone. You will team up in groups of five. At 5:30, I want you with your unit. You will hide yourselves in the dressing rooms. As soon as Vlad is in the Green Room, the mission begins. You’ll work as distraction—no engagement unless necessary.”

“With our tits,” D#1 added just in case anyone had missed the memo.

“It’s kind of like an opening number of the show,” D#5 announced to the room, breaking it down so it was more easily understood. “You stay in the wings until you hear the music and then you make your entrance—head high and bosom forward.”

“Will there be music?” someone yelled.

“Music would really help—something with a sexy beat,” a handler with light purple hair told me while demonstrating a move that belonged in a porn.

“Should we grease up?” D#4 asked.

“What does that even mean?” I asked, bewildered.

“Like body builders,” she replied with an eye roll as if I should have known what the Hell she was talking about.

“Your choice,” I told her, rolling my neck to relieve the tension they were causing.

“I think they should grease up,” Jane chimed in. “If a motherfucker tries to grab ‘em, they’ll slip right out of their slimy hands.”

“Okay,” Martha shouted even though no one was talking. “No to the music and yes to the grease. If anyone needs baby oil, I’ve got ten family sized bottles in my room. Go ahead, Boss Lady.”

“Mmm… kay. No music. Get greased up next door,” I replied, gritting my teeth.

Why Martha had a family sized case of baby oil in her room was something I was never going to touch. Staring at the ceiling for a brief moment, I kept my cool and continued. I couldn’t fix them, so I just needed to focus on their strengths. However, when this shit show was over I was going to train the handlers as well.

“Divide into eight units now.”

They did—quickly and efficiently. Of course a few sashayed into place, but I wasn’t sure some of them knew how to move in a regular manner. Overlooking their need to dance, I treated them as I would any unit—kind of.

“You will come out of hiding spaced two minutes apart.”

“That’s eight counts of eight,” Jane said standing next to me like an interpreter for the dance-impaired.

Giving her a curt nod of thanks and trying not to laugh or scream, I went on. “Unit one will come out at 6:05 and so on and so on. The best strategy is to separate them and flirt like there’s no tomorrow. Move them as far from the Green Room as possible.”

“Should we do them?” a tiny red headed handler inquired with a hopeful expression.

“Um… no, that’s not required,” I said, trying hard to keep a straight face. Never in my history as a general had I fielded questions like these.

“What if they’re hot?” she went on, gaining support from the interested troops.

“Probably a bad plan,” I stated as diplomatically as I could.

“But if we get their pants down, we could do some real damage,” the clearly undersexed red head insisted, miming removing a part of the male anatomy.

“I’m gonna leave that up to you. You’re a warrior, not a hooker,” I said firmly. “I’d also like to go on record saying everyone in this room could do far better than the scum we’re about to encounter.”

“Step over here,” Tiara ordered our makeshift troops, and then conjured up some deliciously sweet smelling pink dust. Tossing it over the crowd, she smiled with satisfaction.

“What’d you do?” Martha asked.

“Covered their scent with a little Fairy dust. Wouldn’t do to have Vlad and the boys know we’re there.”

Tiara was brilliant—loud, obnoxious and out there—but truly brilliant.

“Go with your unit and prepare for battle,” I instructed as my bizarre army squealed with glee and moon walked out of my suite—in unison.

This was either the best plan I’d come up with or the worst.

It simply remained to be seen.