She smiled at me, without flashing fang. A trick that the older vampires learn. She was tall and slender with dark skin and long ebony hair that swung around her waist. She wore crimson Lycra bike pants that clung so tight, you knew she wasn't wearing underwear. Her top was red silk, loose and blousy, with thin spaghetti straps holding it in place. It looked like the top to slinky pajamas. Red high-heeled sandals and a thin gold chain set with a single diamond completed the outfit. The word that came to mind was "exotic." She glided towards me, smiling.
"Is that a threat?" I asked.
She stopped in front of me. "Not yet." There was a hint of some other language in her voice. Something darker with rolling, sibilant sounds.
"That is enough," Jean-Claude said.
The dark lady twirled around, black hair like a veil behind her. "I don't think so."
"Yasmeen." The one word was low and dark with warning.
Yasmeen laughed, a harsh sound like breaking glass. She stopped directly in front of me, blocking my view of Jean-Claude. Her hand stretched towards me, and I stepped back, out of reach.
She smiled wide enough to show fangs and reached for me again. I stepped back, and she was suddenly on me, faster than I could blink, faster than I could breathe. Her hand gripped my hair, bending my neck backwards. Her fingertips brushed my skull. Her other hand held my chin, fingers digging in like fleshy metal. My face was immobile between her hands, trapped.
Short of taking my gun out and shooting her, there was nothing I could do. And if her movement was any clue, I'd never get the gun out in time.
"I see why you like her. So pretty, so delicate." She half-turned towards Jean-Claude, nearly giving me her back, but still holding my head immobile.
"I never thought you'd take in a human." She made it sound like I was a stray puppy.
Yasmeen turned back to me. I pressed my 9mm into her chest. No matter how fast she was, she would be hurt if I wanted it. I can feel how old a vampire is inside my head. It's part natural ability, and part practice. Yasmeen was old, older than Jean-Claude. I was betting she was over five hundred. If she had been the new dead, high-tech ammo at point-blank range would have shredded her heart, killed her. But over five hundred and a master vampire, it might not kill her. Or then again, it might.
Something flickered over her face; surprise, and maybe just a touch of fear. Her body was statue-still. If she was breathing, I couldn't tell.
My voice sounded strained from the angle she held my neck, but the words were clear. "Very slowly, take your hands away from my face. Put both hands on top of your head and lace your fingers together."
"Jean-Claude, call off your human."
"I'd do what she says, Yasmeen." His voice was pleased. "How many vampires have you killed now, Anita?"
"Eighteen."
Yasmeen's eyes widened just a bit. "I don't believe you."
"Believe this, bitch: I'll pull this trigger and you can kiss your heart good-bye."
"Bullets cannot harm me."
"Silver-plated can. Move off me, now!"
Yasmeen's hand slid away from my hair and jaw.
"Slowly," I said.
She did what I asked. She stood in front of me with her long-fingered hands clasped across her head. I stepped away from her, gun still pointed at her chest.
"Now what?" Yasmeen asked. A smile still curled her lips. Her dark eyes were amused. I didn't like being laughed at, but when tangling with master vampires you let some things slide.
"You can put your hands down," I said.
Yasmeen did, but she continued to stare at me as if I'd sprouted a second head. "Where did you find her, Jean-Claude? The kitten has teeth."
"Tell Yasmeen what the vampires call you, Anita."
It sounded too much like an order, but this didn't seem the time to bitch at him. "The Executioner."
Yasmeen's eyes widened; then she smiled, flashing a lot of fang. "I thought you'd be taller."