“Boss, there is an emissary from the Enemy upstairs. She is asking for you.”
Tequila looked worried and more than a little apprehension was in her voice. I looked down at the battle map and realized I should have expected this. The situation had resulted in pretty much a stalemate situation. Here and there would be a small gain or loss. The real problem is the front line in this shadow war was far more fluid and far more difficult to find at times. My guys had been looking for vampire safe houses on this side of the river and we had found two of them. One of them we had handled by breaking in destroying the coffins when no one was at home. That caused the second one to tighten its security and we had to hit it with a lot more force than I wanted to but it too was now gone. That didn’t mean there wasn’t another safe house that we hadn’t found. The counter had been for the vampires under Mr. Lies had absolutely strengthened that they controlled the opposite side of the river.
I headed up the cellar stairs and into the pub. I could cut the atmosphere with a knife. Everyone was backed against the walls and all eyes were toward the doorway. Then I saw her.
I didn’t recognize her at first. Her hair had been dyed a blood-red and she was no longer pleasingly plump but now voluptuously curvy. Sensuality poured out of every pore of her body. If it wasn’t for the simple fact that her wicked smile revealed two fangs, Most men wouldn’t think twice about following her to bed. Sister Papoofnick has never looked physically better in her life. Vampirism does that to woman. Makes them all spiders in the center of their web trying to lure some poor sap to his death. The female vampire is the ultimate black widow make no mistake. Her skin however was very pale which offset her deeply red lips. She was dressed in a manner that her old self would have protested against. Her dress was a midnight black tight and low cut strapless number with a skirt that was ridiculously short to the point that you could see the bottom of her panties sticking out. They were blood-red too. Her stockings were of the fish net variety and her boots came to just under her knee and had stiletto heels.
“Well, I see you have recovered. Nice legs.”
“Joke all you like, I still stand and my legs are fabulous.”
I was referring to the last time we fought where my BFG had basically disintegrated her left leg. It has grown back but I imagine it was still a sore spot for her. Although it should be noted that if it bothered her she had not reacted as strongly as she would have in the past. Her legs were now definitely killer.
“Ok, what’s the message.” Honestly I have no patience for this kind of thing anymore. I can guarantee you this was not a social call and The Sister as she was coded by our intelligence was probably here gathering information as much as anything else.
I looked around and could see that it was highly likely that every one of the people who worked for me had their hands on the grips and hilts of all the weapons they carried. Pint was closest to The Sister with his teeth flashing and hair raised. He was quiet at least.
“My Master bids you greetings. He however does feel your recent actions merit some discussion. Why have you destroyed our houses on this side of the river?”
“What’s the matter, feeling a little weak from having to cross the running water of the river and have no place to get you beauty rest? Sorry, if you haven’t guessed by now the war is still on.”
“Yes, my Master does offer a truce.”
“Hmmm. I don’t think I have time to be cryptic so…”
I gave her the middle finger and said two words that went with the symbol. There was a ripple of shock in her face as it was not something I normally say or do. There was a snicker that went though the pub however and that seemed to irritate The Sister.
“Now, if you don’t mind you have over-stayed your welcome. Don’t let the doors hit you in that curvy backside of yours.”
The Sister snarled but Pint answered with a growl of his own and she then fled quickly to the door. Her skirt was too short in back so it revealed a good part of the bottom of her cheeks. There was a flurry of movement and the doors opened and closed behind her. Everyone stayed tense until Scotch who was the doorman gave the all clear signal.
“Well, I see diplomacy is not one of our options.”
‘Tequila, when dealing with Mr. Lies, diplomacy should never be an option.”
“So do you really think she had nice legs?”
“Fabulous legs, second only to yours.”
“Ok, nice save.”
“Simply true, not a save.”
Tequila hugged me from behind and kissed my cheek. Then she left and went back to waiting tables. Pint curled back up in his bed and I sighed deeply. Then I headed back to the cellar. There was more work to be done.
Welcome to All Things Rabyd, your friendly neighborhood ‘clothing optional’ theology pub. I, the Rabyd Theologian and your bartender, thank you for stopping by. Please drink your theology responsibly or have a designated driver to get you home. Please tip your waitress and they might give you a kiss on the cheek. Just remember life is short so enjoy it. Blessings and Cheers!