The Last of the Red Hot Vampires - By Katie MacAlister Page 0,74
Sarah said, grabbing her purse as she rose. "I'll take care of our lunch bill. You guys get your coats."
"I believe she's the only person I've met who is actually looking forward to meeting with the Hashmallim," Theo said thoughtfully, watching Sarah as she toddled over to the pub counter and handed over her credit card.
"She's not normal. She was dropped on her head several times as a baby. It left her mentally deranged. We all just pretend she's sane."
"I heard that!" she shouted, glaring at me from the counter.
"She also has very good hearing," I said, sighing as I gathered up my things.
"It'll be all right, sweet. I'll be with you this time," Theo reminded me.
It took some doing, but Theo's powers of persuasion proved to be too much for the Guardian named Noelle who had previously summoned the ill-fated demon.
"Now what happens?" I asked several hours later, as we sat huddled on a fallen tree trunk that edged one side of an empty gravel parking lot for an abandoned fish factory at the far side of town.
Noelle rubbed out the markings she'd drawn in the gravel and dirt with the toe of her shoe. "Now you wait. The Hashmallim has been summoned - he will show up whenever he wants. Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"No, thank you for your time," Theo said, rising to shake her hand. "Er...you didn't tell me what payment we owe you for your help."
"Oh, don't worry about that," Noelle said, giving us all a bright smile. It was dark in that corner of the parking lot, long flickering shadows stretching across it from the feeble light attached near a corner of the building, but Noelle's down-to-earth appearance and cheerful personality did much to eliminate the serious case of the creeps I'd had ever since I resigned myself to the thought of having to speak with one of the ghostly Hashmallim. "I get a stipend from the Guardian Guild to be used on such cases as I deem needy. You lot look like you could use a bit of good news, so this one will be complimentary."
We all thanked her. Theo escorted her across the parking lot to where her little blue Mini sat.
"You got yourself a winner this time," Sarah said as she watched them walk away. "What does it feel like being a Dark One's Beloved?"
Theo's mind touched mine, warm and reassuring, filled with tender emotions that made my stomach flutter with happiness. "It's...indescribable."
She peered closer at me. "You love him, don't you?"
"Yes." I smiled, unable to keep the happiness from spilling out of me. "More than any other man. We had a less-than-sterling start, but I know now that he's the man I was meant to be with."
"That's so romantic," she said with a sigh. "Does it hurt when he bites you?"
"Just for a second, then it's really...well, to be blunt, it's pretty darn erotic."
"Oh, man." She pursed her lips and looked at Theo as he stood chatting with Noelle. "You have a gorgeous, drop-dead-sexy man who clearly worships the ground you walk on, you're never going to age, never face sagging boobs and menopause and grey hair, and you get your jollies every time he needs to eat. Do you have any idea how lucky you are?"
"As a matter of fact, I - holy cow!"
Some sort of a shimmering portal opened up directly in front of me, so close I felt static from the little snakes of electricity that sparked off it. I fell backward off the log as an empty black shape formed almost directly on top of me, the sudden skin-crawling wrongness of the Hashmallim bursting to life in my brain.
Theo! I screamed as I crawled backward, trying to avoid contact with the Hashmallim. Panic filled me, threatening to send me teetering over the edge of control. "Theo!"
"I'm here," he said, racing over to me, stepping between the still-approaching Hashmallim and myself. Somehow, his body seemed to block some of the horrible sensations the Hashmallim's presence was causing, leaving me able to dampen the rest enough so I could get to my feet.
"Wow," Sarah said, her expression a mixture of curiosity and terror. She grabbed my arm and clung on with a grip that would no doubt leave bruises. "OK, I see what you mean about them being unpleasant to be around. They look...wrong somehow. Just wrong. Like they're empty black shells of what people are. I think I'm going to forgo my interview."