WHEN A VAMP FALLS
War of Blood and Bonds, 1
A.M. Griffin
Copyright © 2018
Chapter One
Ramsey Moreau snaked his way through the throngs of humans littering Canal Street. Even on a Thursday night, tourists were out in abundance and probably making one bad decision after the other. The night was hot and muggy, neither which had bothered him, but was a good enough reason for the humans, whom he tried to ignore, to dress in their skimpiest outfits. It wasn’t necessarily the warm weather that brought tourists to New Orleans, as the streets crawled with people during the cooler weather too, but the heat only seemed to perpetuate the increased drinking and lack of morals.
As he strolled past a convenience store, a man, mid-twenties, in a long-sleeved button-down shirt, khaki shorts, and boat shoes stepped from the door. With glazed over eyes, he took another step, this one more wobbly than the first. The man let out an impressive burp and in the next breath lurched to the side and threw up on the building. Ramsey sidestepped. The ricocheting vomit missed him, and he kept going. The vampires in his sights were a block in front of him, and he wouldn’t lose them again.
The vampires shouldn’t have been in New Orleans without his permission in the first place. Ramsey, one of the powerful Original vampires, had cleared New Orleans when he’d first made this town his home fifty years ago. It was known in the vampire community that NOLA belonged to him. But every few years or so, fledglings who hadn’t received proper training from their sires, wandered into his city to prey on innocents. He didn’t feel guilty about ending their lives. Their sires should’ve been more attentive.
As they walked, the vampire pair bumped into each other, staggering and tripping. Every few steps they swayed to the side, unsteady on their feet. They laughed boisterously, hit on women who passed them, and let out whoops and hollers. They carried liquor filled drinks and raised them high in the air as hellos to strangers. To the passersby they appeared drunk out of their minds.
All for show.
Neither would be taking a sip from their drinks, tonight or ever.
The vampires blended in well with the humans. Ramsey had to give them an A for effort. They pretended to be drunk, but not so drunk that they would get stopped by the police. Nothing distinguished them from the other tourists. They were good at their act and most likely better at hunting innocents.
When the pair turned down Royal Street, Ramsey followed. Immediately the noise died down. Royal didn’t have as much traffic as Canal. Cars, mostly cabs, used the street as a shortcut to bypass the main thoroughfares. Because of the lateness of the hour, the businesses were either closed or closing. The streetlamps provided some of the only light in the area, and even still it was dark out.
Most of the tourists, if they found themselves on Royal this late, would’ve quickly found a way off that street, deciding to stick to the more populated areas of the French Quarter. The stories about vampires attacking tourists in the shadows and alleys would’ve gotten their hackles raised—and rightfully so. The people who chose to brave the dark street were either locals, who wanted to prove to themselves and others that the shadows and stories didn’t scare them, or tourists who were too inebriated to heed their instincts.
A block away, a couple staggered out the doorway from one of the local bars. The man sang at the top of his lungs, a song that Ramsey didn’t recognize, but that didn’t matter since he didn’t know much of the music from this century anyway. The woman, a small brunette, had her arm wrapped around him and whispered for him to quiet down, that he embarrassed her. The man either didn’t hear her or didn’t care. He sang louder, boisterously and off-key. When he tried to turn around, going back the bar, she redirected him onto the sidewalk.
“You promised that you wouldn’t drink this much, Carl.”
“Julie, we’re in New Orleans! NOLA! The big easy!” Carl’s speech slurred. He hiccupped and almost fell to his side.
Julie struggled to support his larger frame as he leaned over her. “Let’s just get back to the hotel.”
Carl tried to push away from her, but he didn’t have enough strength to succeed. “Hotel! We’re not going back to the hotel.” He burped, and Julie recoiled, waving a hand over her face. “Point me in the direction to another bar,” he demanded.
Julie secured him by the waist and grunted. “You’re done, mister.”
“Bar!” he yelled, struggling to get away from her.
Julie sighed. “Okay, okay, we’ll go to one more bar.”
Carl kissed the top of her head. “That’s why I love you, honey.”
The vampire pair sped up, homing in on their prey. Their steps produced only whispers on the sidewalk. When they were a foot away, Julie turned around and yelped, startled by the two men who hadn’t been behind her a few seconds ago.
“Did I hear someone say ‘bar’? the vampire with a Thing One shirt on asked.
Julie stared at them. Her voice caught in her throat. Even from his distance Ramsey saw the panic behind her eyes.
Carl righted himself, the situation sobering him a little. He pulled Julie behind him. “What of it?”
The vampire in the Thing Two t-shirt raised his drink, making some of the alcohol within slosh over the rim to fall down his hand and drip over his arm. “Because that’s where we’re going too,” he slurred his speech.
Thing One threw his arm over Thing Two’s shoulder. “I’m Antonio, and my buddy here is Nicoli. We’re headed to one of the best bars in New Orleans. You.” He pointed at Carl and hiccupped. “You should come with us.” He pretended to take a swig from his cup. If the couple looked hard enough they would see Antonio’s mouth was closed and would know that the gulps he took were fake.
Julie pulled Carl back. “Actually, we were on our way to the hotel.”
Antonio and Nicoli exchanged glances, then burst out laughing. “Man, you’re letting your girl ruin New Orleans for you. That’s why we left our babes at home,” Nicoli said.
Antonio shrugged. “Too bad. We’re about to get wasted.” Antonio and Nicoli bumped their cups together.
Ramsey sped up. The distance he’d previously put between him and the vampires was to hide that he followed them. But now he didn’t care. He’d confirmed Antonio and Nicoli’s intentions in his city.
“Come on, Carl,” Julie begged pulling on his shirt again. “We don’t know them.”
Carl swatted her hand away. “No, now wait a minute. I already told you that I was going to another bar.”
“Carl…”
“I’m going with them,” Carl said, pointing at the vampires.
Antonio and Nicoli gave Carl high-fives.
“The bar is this way,” Antonio said, nodding his head forward.
“I don’t trust them,” Julie whispered to Carl.
Again, Carl ignored her and followed the vampires.
Ramsey didn’t have any trouble hearing her at nearly half a block away. The vampires standing next to her would’ve heard her easily as well. But Carl wasn’t listening to Julie or thinking clearly, and sadly, if Ramsey hadn’t been there, those would’ve been her last words.
Antonio and Nicoli kept Carl occupied with small talk while they led him deeper into an unpopulated area. Julie followed along nervously, clutching Carl’s arm. At the next block Antonio pulled Carl away from Julie and into an alley. Nicoli pushed Julie after them. She let out a small yelp.
They were out of Ramsey’s sight. With no more time to waste, and the humans’ lives at stake, Ramsey took off into a run, moving as a blurry shadow to anyone watching. He made it to the alley as Nicoli carried Julie, dangling unconscious in his arm toward the back where trashcans were lined around a dumpster. Carl was in front of them, following Antonio willingly, stumbling and oblivious of being led to his death.
“There’s a bar back here somewhere?” Carl asked confused.
Antonio chuckled and extended an arm. “There’s a secret entrance. Right this way.”
Ramsey stood at the mouth of the alley and tsked, a sound that was heard only by the vampires. Antonio and Nicoli both whirled around to look at him.
Antonio narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”
The vampires were new—fledglings. Their skin still had the porcelain look of vampires who were under one hundred years old. Too old to still be under their sire’s wings, but young enough not to grasp the graveness of their situation.
“These are our meals,” Nicoli spat, cradling Julie possessively.
Carl turned around and almost fell over. He steadied himself and pointed to Julie. “Hey! She’s my girlfriend. Why are you carrying her?”
“She passed out. I was helping her,” Nicoli said, not taking his eyes off of Ramsey.
Carl pulled his eyebrows together with worry. “She did?”
“Let the humans go. This isn’t your territory,” Ramsey warned.
Nicoli raised his eyebrows. “We’re just passing through. Once we feed, we’ll be on our way.”
Ramsey took a step forward. “You’re not hunting in my territory.”
Nicoli dropped Julie. She hit the ground with a thud. Carl staggered over to her. “Julie, honey? Are you okay?”
“I’m tired of you Originals thinking that you own the world. We can feed wherever we want,” Nicoli sneered.
Somebody must have had their Wheaties today.
“I’ll give you a choice.” Ramsey glanced from Antonio to Nicoli. “You can try to feed from the humans, maybe get a small taste before you die—painfully. Or you can walk out of this alley, leave New Orleans, and never come back.”
Nicoli let out a growl, and Antonio opened his mouth, revealing his sharp canines. “Like I said.” Nicoli reached into his waistline and pulled out a silver dagger. Even in the darkness the dagger gleamed. “This is our meal.”
Ramsey wanted to laugh. What was that little knife going to do to him?
Nicoli motioned him forward. “Come get some.”
Ramsey shrugged. No one could say that he hadn’t given them a chance to leave and live.
Ramsey shot down the alley, covering the ground between them in record speed, and in less than a second, he had his hand around Nicoli’s throat lifting him from the ground. Without much of an effort he tossed Nicoli away. His body hit a metal garbage bin, denting and rocking it. Ramsey didn’t give Antonio an opportunity to advance. He snatched him up.
Antonio bared his fangs and hissed.
Ramsey chuckled. “Am I supposed to be scared of those baby fangs?” Then he bared his. “Now these are proper fangs.”
“W-wait,” Carl said, raising his hands. “We were just on our way to the bar. We didn’t want any trouble.”
Antonio clawed at Ramsey’s hands, struggling in his grip.
Ramsey spared Carl a glance. “Take your woman and go back to the hotel.”
Carl, suddenly sober, picked up his girlfriend and threw her over his shoulder and backed away.
“And my advice to you is to listen to your woman more,” Ramsey added.
Carl nodded, then turned and ran down the alley.
Suddenly pain erupted in Ramsey’s side, making his insides burn. He staggered back and dropped Antonio.
“My advice to you?” Nicoli asked, watching him with a deadly glint in his eyes.
Ramsey stumbled, wondering why so much pain coursed through his body. The knife shouldn’t have hurt. In fact, it shouldn’t have broken through his skin. Nicoli stabbed him again, a quick swipe in the groin. Ramsey couldn’t deflect the blow. Everything hurt. He tried to back away, putting space between him and Nicoli. The silver dagger in Nicoli’s hand dripped with black blood. Nicoli smiled and advanced on him again. Ramsey held out his hand, but Nicoli pushed it away. Nicoli buried the dagger in Ramsey’s chest. Fire spread across him. The world darkened.
“Don’t ever turn your back on me.”
****
Danya Evans tried her best to maneuver through the massive Bourbon Street crowd. She hadn’t expected to see so many people packed onto one street and on a Thursday night no less. There were men dressed in business suits and women in fancy evening wear, rubbing shoulders with inebriated tourists and homeless people. Bare-chested women, laden with multi-colored beads and college kids with alcoholic beverages, shared the street with families and children. It seems that all types of people were smashed onto one street.
A group of rowdy boys yelled out obscenities as they filed past, jostling each other and bumping into Danya in the process. One of their drinks spilled over the fishbowl slash cup and spilled down Danya’s arm. Without so much as a “sorry” the guys kept going, leaving Danya with a cold, wet shirt.
“Ugh! Excuse you!” Danya yelled after the retreating group. Her screams blended with the rest of the noise, and the guys didn’t give her a second glance.
Jamie, her best friend, stopped by her side. “So much for putting on our best ‘turn this shit out’ outfits on.” Jamie rummaged through her large purse and pulled out a packet of baby wipes. “Here, we have to clean it up before it dries and gets all sticky.”
That was the upside to having a friend who had children. Jamie was prepared for almost all situations. Jamie handed Danya a wipe and took one out for herself.
Danya dabbed at her arm. “I can’t believe how rude everyone is.”
“That’s because they’re drunk and we’re not—yet.” Jamie wiped the side of Danya’s jeans. “We’ll have a drink and blend in more.”
When Bride, Danya’s younger sister, noticed that Jamie and Danya had stopped following her, she doubled back. Excitement painted her face. “Okay, so this weekend we’re gonna eat too much, drink too much, and if we’re lucky, fuck too much.” Bride jutted out her hip, showing off her slinky red panties that peeked over her low-rise skinny jeans. “I didn’t bring my good underwear to New Orleans for nothing.”
Danya skimmed the lacy panties with envy. She couldn’t even think about squeezing her butt into something as skimpy as those. She had way too much “junk in the trunk” to pull off the dental floss look, but Bride, a Zumba instructor, had the body for such luxuries. The thought made Danya turn her glare to Bride and squint in jealousy.
“Oh, no. Don’t look at me like that.” Bride wiggled her finger. “Nuh-uh. We’re single and ready to mingle.”
Jamie held out her hand for Danya’s wipe, then stuffed them both back in her purse. “You guys feel free to go buck wild. I’ll live vicariously through you both. I’m married. Happily married,” she added with emphasis.
Danya’s cell phone chimed with an incoming text.
Don’t have too much fun. Ha ha ha. Just kidding. Have fun in New Orleans. Since I’m stuck working your shift tonight, at least one of us should be out having a good time.
The text was from her coworker, Alex, who’d agreed to switch her shift so that she could go on her last-minute vacation. She replied back.
Thanks again for working for me. I’ll be sure to post pictures on Friend Book.
Danya slipped her phone back into the pocket of jeans that were way too tight and let out a yawn. She’d slept the entire two-hour flight from Los Angeles to New Orleans, and she still wanted to curl underneath the fluffy, white hotel comforter. But the odds of Bride and Jamie letting her go back to the room to sleep were slim.
“Uh-uh. None of that,” Bride said, confirming Danya’s thought.
Danya waved a hand in the air then pointed to herself. “Hello? I just worked four straight nights, on twelve hour shifts each.”
“And no one told you to work that crazy ass schedule right before your vacation anyway,” Bride said, unperturbed.
“Working that schedule was the only way that I could get the time off on such short notice. I had to work another nurse’s shift for him.” Danya looked pointedly at Bride, who had booked the trip a week ago and bought Danya’s and Jamie’s tickets without asking first because the deal had been “too good to pass up”. Danya yawned again. “Plus, I still have to get my thesis completed. I’m tired as hell—”
“We don’t care, Dani! We’re in NOLA.” Bride scanned the crowd, trying to find something to catch her attention.
Dani opened her mouth to give her sister a piece of her mind. Bride had a part-time job and no responsibilities. She thought life was just one big party. She didn’t care what other people had going on in their lives. After only a few hours into this trip, Dani had already had enough of Bride and her attitude.
“We do care,” Jamie said, stopping Dani before she could say anything. “Dani, I know that you work a ton of hours and you’re trying to finish your Master’s in Nursing degree. But what Bride means…” She shot Bride a quick glare. “Is that we aren’t going to let you ruin your weekend getaway by sleeping it away.”
As a nurse in a busy inner-city hospital and a grad student, Dani treated sleep as it should be treated—as a precious commodity. She’d expected Bride not to recognize the importance of sleep. She was twenty-five and single. But she’d thought Jamie, a wife and mother of two, would appreciate the wonderful power of sleep.
“Bride, when I told you to look up vacations, I’d assumed that you would find something on a beach, with white sand and blue water.” Dani closed her eyes and lifted her chin. She could almost feel the sun on her skin. “Ah, some place tropical.” But she wasn’t in Jamaica, the Bahamas, or Cancun. She was in fucking New Orleans. Bourbon Street smelled like vomit and piss, and she wasn’t sure which one was in the puddle she stood in. Dani side stepped to a dry patch of the sidewalk.
Bride stared off, seemingly not paying attention to either Dani or Jamie, and danced to a silent beat. Dani looped her arm in Jamie’s. Jamie shook her head and mouthed, “We’ll get through this together.”
A loud cackle sounded in the distance, and Dani took a step closer to Jamie, pressing against her body. “Together.”
Bride turned back to look at Dani and Jamie. She scowled when she saw them. “What? Are you guys afraid of getting lost or something?”
Dani exchanged glances with Jamie. “Or kidnapped,” Dani whispered.
Bride didn’t hide her disappointment. “Ugh, you guys are like two old maids.” With a karate chop where their arms linked, Bride separated them.
“Ow!” Dani exclaimed, rubbing her arm.
“Bride is right, for once. We can do this.” Jamie shook out both of her arms. “We need to live a little. Let’s get one of those fishbowl drinks.”
“Finally!” Bride clasped Jamie’s shoulders. “You’re on my side! First on our bucket list is to earn some beads the old-fashioned way.”
Oh, no. The old-fashioned way? That didn’t sound good.