Tom’s cover was simplicity itself. He sported a half bottle of Jack and was acting like he was pissed to the gills.

I saw Dusk Reaper turn in my roommate’s direction. He tensed for a moment, but then relaxed when he saw it was just some drunken dipshit. So far, so good. I glanced further down the block, scanning for headlights. Even with my night vision it was hard to tell one car from the next, but I didn’t worry too much about Ed. He knew the plan and was reliable. Chances were he was in position and waiting for his signal.

Should Tom ascertain that Reaper was armed to the teeth and, assuming he was allowed to go on his way, he’d signal me with a loud drunken rendition of Hit Me Baby One More Time. That would be my cue to text Ed to drive down the block and run the asshole of a vampire over.

What? I never said I planned on being sporting about this. Besides, that was just our emergency equalizer.

A part of me was definitely hoping we’d need to use it, though. After all, seeing that twat-waffle get mowed down would be intensely satisfying. At the same time, I needed to remember it was a worst case scenario.

Tom reached where Dusk Reaper leaned against the side of a building, smoking like he was in an eighties Motley Crue video. Still acting the drunken fool, something Tom had a lot of experience with, he wandered over and tried starting up a conversation, all of it easily audible to my ears.

“Spare a smoke, man?”

“Fuck off,” Reaper growled. A real people person that guy.

“Come on, bro.” Tom staggered forward right into Reaper. He practically fell into the vamp’s arms, giving him a good chance for an impromptu frisking.

I held my breath. The problem with vampires was that, much like a rabid animal, they could be unpredictable. A psycho like Night Razor might have just snapped a person’s neck right out in the open, not caring who saw it. I was betting, though, that Reaper didn’t have quite that set of balls on him.

“Get the fuck off me, motherfucker!” Reaper gave a shove and my roommate went stumbling back, the bottle falling out of his hands and shattering on the sidewalk. I tensed up, ready to race over, regardless of whether it might be into a hail of gunfire.

Fortunately, the vamp hadn’t put everything he had into the push. Tom lifted himself off the ground, apparently unhurt. Thank goodness. Despite their insane enthusiasm to help me, I still hated getting them involved in the affairs of the supernatural world. Shit could turn sour in an instant and, even with my speed, I doubted I’d be fast enough to always stop it.

Tonight, though, the stars appeared to be smiling down upon me.

“That all you got, tough guy?” Tom slurred. “You’re just a dickless loser!”

That was it―his signal that he hadn’t noticed anything on Reaper. It wasn’t the most eloquent of call signs, but then again Tom had come up with it.

Our version of “whiskey, tango, foxtrot” given, I slipped the bat out of my trench coat and gripped it tight in my right hand.

Sadly, Tom’s code phrase also had the downside of being just a tad infuriating to people who actually were dickless losers. Before I could spring into action, Reaper had crossed over to my roommate and grabbed him by the jacket.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“When I’m done with you, we’ll see who has no dick,” he spat, baring his fangs.

Shit!

“Maybe,” Tom replied, all trace of drunken slur gone, “but at least mine won’t be on fire.”

With that, he pulled Ed’s stun gun from his pocket and made himself a fried asshole sandwich.

♦ ♦ ♦

The weapon had been at my insistence. Though I hated to lose the advantage it afforded me, there was no way I was letting my friend walk into danger without at least something to help even the odds.

Despite my hope that he wouldn’t need to use it, I found myself smiling nevertheless as I took off at full speed toward the two, especially since Tom was giving him a good long jolt.

Unfortunately, vampires are a hardy bunch. Reaper went down twitching, but he still managed to have enough sense to get a foot up and kick out at Tom – catching him in the chest. My roommate went flying, landing in the middle of the street.

Judging from the chorus of curses that erupted from his mouth, he was just stunned. Now to only hope Ed didn’t accidentally run over his stupid ass. As for me, I raced past my roommate, doing my best to not convey any sort of familiarity just in case things went south.

Reaper was already up on one knee by the time I reached him. That was mighty obliging as it put him at the perfect height. His eyes opened wide with surprise just a second before I connected with a left-handed uppercut.

Unlike my first outing with Firebird, where I tried to hold back a bit so as to give no clues to my preternatural strength, I put everything I had into it. My armored fist connected with his jaw and there came the distinct sound of teeth shattering – oh so satisfying a noise when it wasn’t my own.

Dusk Reaper went rolling ass over teakettle back the way he’d came, spitting blood as he went.

Sadly for me, his age gave him a bit of extra resiliency over the others I’d introduced myself to. However, it hadn’t done much for his courage. He managed to roll back to his feet before I could use his noggin for batting practice and turned tail―no threats of revenge or not seeing the last of him, he just spun around and ran.

In hindsight, I should have accepted my victory and been happy with it. Instead, I took off after him. He was, after all, the primary source of my irritation as of late. Between being a steadfast supporter of the old guard, trying his best to turn the rest of the coven against me, and actually getting some ass whereas my dating life lately consisted of Pornhub… well, he was the living embodiment of all the shit I thought I’d left behind when I’d taken over.

The dumb fuck didn’t even try to be subtle as he ran, accelerating quickly to a speed no human could hope to match. Oh well, it’s not like the streets were packed. Our only witness was Tom and it wasn’t like he was gonna tell anyone. I followed suit, matching his pace. I wanted to put a hurt on him. Then, when I showed up at the loft later, complete with the battered remnants of my stalker outfit, there would be no doubt left in his mind that I wasn’t someone to fuck with, even if it was all smoke and mirrors.

Screw it. I wasn’t proud.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out where Reaper was headed―the warehouse. He was probably hoping to double back and catch me by surprise in the warren of crates that filled the building like some sort of rat maze. Worst case, he could always try to slip down the sewer entrance and make an escape. Pity for him that I wasn’t nearly as ignorant of the layout as he was no doubt hoping.

He raced around the side and my ears picked up the distinct sound of the main door being shoved open. Fine, I could play this game.

But that didn’t mean I cared to play it stupidly. I slowed down and reminded myself that Dusk Reaper was a vampire. Pussy though he was, if cornered he could still be deadly. I needed to be coy about this, give him a false sense of hope.

Making my way to the warehouse entrance, I hesitated for a few moments, waiting until a human pursuer might reasonably have made it here.

That done, I used my bat to push open the door just in case his big plan was to hope I was stupid enough to stroll in and be ambushed. No sign of him, so I entered.

The lights were off. That didn’t mean shit for a vampire, but I didn’t care to show my cards quite yet. I crept forward, my hands reaching out in front of me, pretending that I was feeling my way along blindly.

All the while, I was scanning every nook and cranny for movement while keeping my ears peeled for any sound that might give him away. I debated how I wanted to play this. It might make sense to let him think he got the drop on me, give him a false feeling of superiority before bringing down the hurt.

I was considering making some noise, maybe pretending to stumble, when the choice was made for me.

My damned cell phone began to ring.