Sainvire’s silence over the looming Council meeting didn’t help. Poe would have been delusional to deny that she was more than a bit apprehensive.
Shouldn’t he have prepped her about what to expect and what to say before the oldest vampires in town?
“Over a thousand!” she spat in the rain, talking quietly to herself. “More like five and two of them are dead. I’ll get tortured over semantics.” She would not spill the beans on her friends hiding out in Pico Rivera.
But under torture? Waterboarding? I hate pain!
“Shouldn’t we discuss strategy?” she began. “Or at least tell me something useful.”
“The less you know, the better you’ll be,” was the only thing Sainvire said.
She asked again.
“Can’t you tell the Council that I got away, that I outsmarted you and Maple?”
“It’s too late for that,” he replied, his voice hardening. “We have company.”
161
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Poe opened her mouth to ask the vampire if she’d heard him correctly when Sainvire and Maple quickly flanked her on each side, their dead bodies tense. The family of rats swimming alongside them in search of solid ground was not the reason for their caution.
Taking the hint, Poe took out both Glocks from her shoulder holster and readied herself. She could barely make out Sainvire now that he positioned himself ahead. He wore black like her. Maple was easier to spot because she had on a white raincoat that reflected in the dark.
Scuttling sounds and sloshing feet on the flooded streets were heard, followed by laughter. Like a formulaic diabolical laugh from Vincent Price in the Thriller video, the snickers and bellows were meant to petrify.
They worked on Poe, for she couldn’t see a thing.
She was ready for the plucking, alright. The only thing she could do was to tighten her hold on the newly acquired guns.
Sainvire’s heavy arm draped around her shoulder and led her to the right.
“Be prepared for anything, Poe,” he whispered in her ear. His cold lips so close made her shiver. Great Ali, help me!
Her two companions remained stalwart and silent despite the exaggerated malevolent laughter. Their reaction didn’t make Poe feel any better. She would have liked to hear them fight back with dirty words.
Gutter talk would have fixed it for her.
When finally the three resumed their trek in the midst of their unwanted entourage, Poe wondered why they hadn’t been attacked yet. Then a voice, well remembered in its venom, addressed her personally.
162
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“Even if you survive the Council tonight, Julia, we’ll be waiting for you. To escort you back to our banquet table.”
It was Pengle, the ugly vampire whose hand she had hacked off with the Rambo knife. She was in the shits. There were only three of them, and from the echoed sound of laughter all around, a contingent of vamps and subvamps from Trench’s camp surrounded them.
“You hear me, Julia?” Pengle taunted. “After we feed on you tonight, until not even a drop of blood’s left, your body will be hacked to pieces and stewed.”
He chuckled, “To feed our poor starving cattle, not that they would get more than soup from your brittle bones.”
Poe swallowed hard. Some visual! She hated that Pengle. She should have finished him off, but he returned to mess with her mind. Hadn’t she read a tedious paperback by Machiavelli she had found lying around the upstairs hotel? The man said something about never leaving enemies alive, no matter how young or old, for they might come back to haunt you.
The kook was right!
“Maybe four or five of us will have fun with your body first. You’ve titillated us with your unfettered breasts–”
That was it. Poe could stomach talk about cannibalism and blood drinking, but never her top parts. Especially since she hadn’t thought to wear a bra until the night before.
“How’s the hand, Pengle?” she asked calmly when everything about her wanted to scream.
Stuttering be damned. “Did the stump sprout some digits yet?”
The vampire took time to coherently answer, confirming Poe’s thought that Pengle was as pissed as 163
Rono/That Which Bites
Adam after biting on the apple at the behest of his woman.
“You bitch!” was the best he could do. “I’ll send twenty vampires to stomp you, then–”
“Then you’re going to suck all of my blood. Then you’re going to make me into stew to feed your cattle,”
she finished. “You already said that, stumpy!”
Again, silence from the far end.
“You dumb bitch,” he repeated.
“So you’ve already said. But if I’m so dumb, then how come I’m holding two pistols with my two bare hands?”