Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story Chapter 1

This is a work of fiction.Names, characters, places, and incidents both are productsof the authors resource or are used fictitiously. Anyresemblance to actual events or locales or persons, livingor dead, is entirely coincidental.Acknowledge custodytsThe author gratefully acknowledges those population who careed in the research and writing of Bloodsucking FiendsMark Joseph and Mark Anderson for help with research in the Bay Area. Rachelle Stambal, Jean Brody, Liz Ziemska, and Dee Dee Leichtfuss for their careful reads and thoughtful suggestions. My editors, Michael Korda and eruct Adams, for their clean affords and composure. And my agent, Nick Ellison, for his patience, guidance, friendship, and hard work.In memory of my receiveJack Davis MoorePart IFledglingChapter 1Deathsunset throeted purple cross airs the great Pyramid darn the emperor moth enjoyed a steaming whiz against a dumpster in the pathway below. A low fog worked its way up from the bay, snaked around columns an d over cover lions to wash against the towers where the Wests money was moved. The financial district an hour ago it ran with rivers of men in gray wool and women in heels now the highroads, built on sunken ships and gold-rush garbage, were deserted quiet except for a foghorn that lowed across the bay like a lonesome cow.The emperor shook his brink to clear the last few drops, shivered, hence zipped up and turned to the empurpled hounds who waited at his heels. The foghorn sounds especially sad this evening, dont you think?The smaller of the dogs, a Boston terrier, dipped his luff and licked his chops.Bummer, you are so simple. My urban center is decaying before your eyes. The air is thick with poison, the children are shooting each some other in the street, and now this plague, this horrible plague is killing my people by the thousands, and all you think about is food.The emperor moth nodded to the larger dog, a lucky retriever. Lazarus knows the weight of our responsi bility. Does one have to die to find dignity? I wonder.Lazarus lowered his ears and growled. Have I offended you, my friend?Bummer began growling and mountain onward from the dumpster. The Emperor turned to see the lid of the dumpster being tardily lifted by a pale hand. Bummer barked a warning. A enter stood up in the dumpster, his hair dark and wild and speckled with trash, splutter white as bone. He vaulted out of the dumpster and hissed at the diminutive dog, showing long white fangs. Bummer yelped and cowered behind the Emperors leg.That bequeath be sort of enough of that, the Emperor commanded, puffing himself up and tucking his thumbs to a lower place the lapels of his worn overcoat.The lamia brushed a bit of rotted allowtuce from his black shirt and grinned. Ill let you live, he said, his voice like a file on antediluvian patriarch rusted metal. Thats your punishment.The Emperors eyes went wide with terror, except he held his ground. The vampire laughed, accord ingly turned and walked away.The Emperor felt a chill ramble up his neck as the vampire disappeared into the fog. He hung his star and thought, Not this. My metropolis is dying of poison and plague and now this this creature stalks the streets. The responsibility is suffocating. Emperor or non, I am only a man. I am weak as water an entire empire to save and chasten now I would sell my soul for a bucket of the Colonels crispy-fried chicken. Ah, but I must be strong for the troops. It could be worse, I suppose. I could be the Emperor of Oakland.Chins up, boys, the Emperor said to his hounds. If we are to battle this monster, we result need our strength. There is a bakery in North brink that will presently be dumping the day-old. Lets be off. He shuffled away thinking, Nero fiddled while his empire went to ashes I shall eat leathery pastries.As the Emperor trudged up California alley, trying to balance the impotence of power with the see of a powdered-sugar doughnut, Jod y was leaving the Pyramid. She was twenty-six and pretty in a way that made men want to tuck her into flannel sheets and kiss her on the forehead before leaving the room cute but not beautiful.As she passed under the Pyramids massive concrete buttresses she caught herself limp from a panty-hose injury. It didnt hurt, exactly, the run that striped the plump for of her leg from heel to knee, the result of a crabbed metal file drawer (Claims, X-Y-Z) that had leaped out and snagged her ankle but she was limping nonetheless, from the psychological damage. She thought, My closet is starting to look like an ostrich hatchery. Ive either got to start throwing out Leggs eggs or sit a sunburn on my legs and quit wearing nylons.Shed never had a tan, couldnt get one, really. She was a milk-white, green-eyed redhead who burned and freckled with sun.When she was half a freeze down from her bus stop, the wind-driven fog won and Jody experienced total hair-spray failure. Neat waist-length wave s frizzed to a wild red cape of curl and tangle. Great, she thought, once again Ill get home looking like Death eating a cracker. Kurt will be so pleased.She pulled her jacket closer around her shoulders against the chill, tucked her briefcase under her breasts like a schoolgirl carrying books, and limped on. Ahead of her on the sidewalk she precept psyche standing by the glass door of a brokerage office. parkland light from the CRTs inside silhouetted him in the fog. She thought about crossing the street to avoid him, but shed have to cross back again in a few feet to catch her bus.She thought, Im done working late. Its not worthy it. No eye contact, thats the plan.As she passed the man, she looked down at her running enclothe (her heels were in her briefcase). Thats it. Just a couple more stepsA hand caught in her hair and jerked her off her feet, her briefcase went skittering across the sidewalk and she started to scream. another(prenominal) hand clamped over her lip and sh e was dragged off the street into an alley. She kicked and flailed, but he was too strong, immovable. The smell of rotten meat filled her nostrils and she gagged even while trying to scream. Her attacker spun her around and yanked on her hair, pulling her head back until she thought her neck would snap. Then she felt a sharp pain on the side of her throat and the strength to fight seemed to evaporate.Across the alley she could see a soda seat and an old Wall Street Journal, a wad of bubble gum stuck to the bricks, a No lay sign details, strangely slowed down and significant. Her vision began to tunnel dark, like an flagstone closing, and she thought, These will be the last things I see. The voice in her head was calm, resolved.As everything went dark, her attacker slapped her across the face and she opened her eyes and saw the thin white face before her. He was speaking to her. Drink, he said.Something warm and wet was shoved into her mouth. She tasted warm iron and salt and gagg ed again. Its his arm. Hes shoved his arm in my mouth and my teeth have broken. Im tasting blood. DrinkA hand clamped over her nose. She struggled, tried to breathe, tried to pull his arm out of her mouth to get air, sucked for air and nearly choked on blood. Suddenly she ground herself sucking, drinking hungrily. When he tried to pull his arm away she clutched at it. He tore it from her mouth, twisted her around and bit her throat again. aft(prenominal) a moment, she felt herself fall. The attacker was tearing at her clothes, but she had naught left to fight with. She felt a roughness against the skin of her breasts and belly, then he was off her.Youll need that, he said, and his voice echoed in her head as if he had shouted down a canyon. Now you can die.Jody felt a remote sense of gratitude. With his permission, she gave up. Her heart slowed, lugged, and stopped.