DVDs, many of which were about love. Love soothed and so did friends. But they weren’t enough.
“How can I take Sister Ann’s advice when the woman of God stuffs three sawed-off double-barreled shotguns under her habit for a living? Preaching to me about love while staking hearts and decapitating vampire heads with a crazy smile on her face is too much,” she’d complain to the television when alone.
Besides, love could not kill Kaleb Sainvire and Quillon Trench, leaders of the two most powerful vampire factions in the city. Fear and hate, however, would do the trick. Poe was banking on those emotions for the courage to shoot their dead hearts, if she could only force herself to swallow her phobia of leaving her bunker and infiltrate their well-fortified domain.
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Unlike Sister Ann and Goss, she had never caught even a glimpse of these two master vampires. No matter.
“Trench has set up another blood bank on Sweatshop Alley,” Goss announced, taking off his jacket. “There’re about a dozen cattle, a handful of leeches, and two janitors – one of them’s my contact.
Time to clean up the filth.”
“What happened to your arm?” Poe asked, noticing for the first time his bandaged arm stained with blood. She’d never seen him injured in any way.
“It’s nothing,” he shrugged. “Just some canvasser trying to mark my building. I blew his head off before he could decide that he liked the place. Getting back to Trench, his blood farm will be destroyed today so get your gear ready.”
“Heard anything about Sainvire?” Poe asked quietly, a finger tracing her five-inch scar from forehead to mid-cheek. They only spoke of the master vampire living in the Central Library when they thought Poe was out of earshot.
“Nothing at all,” Sister Ann answered.
“We have to focus our energy on shutting down Trench’s newly sprouted farms. Right now,” Goss insisted.
“But Sainvire’s more dangerous, w-we ought to–”
“Not now,” Goss cut in. “Trench is priority one.
He’s the one with LAPD cops working for him.”
Trench had a thing about turning police officers and magazine-cover stick people into his personal blood brigade. The master vampire, an advocate of creating more vampires through old-fashioned hunt, bleed, and feed, was famous for thinking with his many appetites. Brawn and beauty were known to be his worst vices. At least he didn’t discriminate on that score. Anyone eye-catching, no matter the skin color, 18
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he would gladly add to his entourage. More than once he defied the Council’s decree of zero vampire creation.
“Sorry, Goss. You said to question everything, and that’s what I’m doing.” Poe stood her ground, her stubborn streak igniting. Even her stutter seemed to have taken a hike. “We’ve been on Trench’s trail for almost nine months now. Only makes sense to take another angle to throw some slack off our operation.
Trench is getting nervous. I mean, he’s planting random new farms around downtown to throw us off.
Doesn’t it make sense that one of them could be a trap?
Maybe it’s better to let things cool off and hound Sainvire for once.”
“Always good to voice your opinion, Poe,” Sister Ann said, patting her back lightly, patronizingly.
Briefly the nun met Goss’ eyes and an unspoken agreement was made between them. “But I agree with Goss. Quillon Trench is certainly more dangerous at this juncture than Sainvire.”
“How can that be when Sainvire was the one who came up with cattle milking?” Poe insisted, the back of her throat starting to hurt.
Kaleb Sainvire was the vampire who convinced the Council to ban the addition of new minions a few months after the confounding gray matter carried by the Pacific winds wreaked death and devastation, razing almost the entire human population on the spot.
As they were now the majority, the vampire underground came out of hiding, rejoiced, and feasted indiscriminately on the human populace that survived the Gray Armageddon. Sainvire, however, reported to the Council that the few humans that survived weren’t enough to quench the hunger of the new vampire realm. So he developed the self-sustaining process of systematically “milking the cattle”.
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“You’ll have to settle for getting Sainvire next time,” Sister said rather politely.
“Now’s not the time, Poe,” added Goss who sat cross-legged on the floor to be more level with the women.
Poe nodded, swallowing hard. She hated it when they didn’t include her in the decision- making.
“Don’t just hook your pepper spray on the side like that,” Sister loudly pointed out, shaking her head.
“Really irresponsible,” the nun muttered. “How’re you going to detach it