Category Archives: Prophecy

Taboo Request

Mike watched Crandall pace around the room. He’d remained seated on a wobbly old wooden chair for as long as it took for him to share the details of the vampire prophecy and Judas’s demands with Father Chris, and then he was on his feet, pacing, prowling, like a caged lion, waiting for his keeper to leave the gate ajar. He could smell freedom, taste it, but didn’t know when his chance would come.

Father Chris, on the other hand, reclined against the arm of the sofa, hands folded on his stomach as he stared toward the ceiling. Was he seeking Heavenly guidance, or just thinking about the best way to tell them both they were crazy?

“Tell me,” Chris said, “Why do you feel obligated to participate in this prophecy?”

Mike glanced at Father Chris, but the priest was watching Crandall.

Crandall froze midstep, his entire body tense. Slowly, he turned, glaring first at Mike and then at Chris. “They won’t leave us the fuck alone.”

“Crank…” Mike tried to interrupt, but Crandall plowed on, indifferent to who heard his foul mouth.

“Obligated? Hell no. Antagonized is more like it. I gotta do this to make them go away.”

Mike stood, and moved between them. Chris didn’t appear bothered by Crandall’s language, but Mike was. They weren’t in the church itself, but to Mike, the building and the priest deserved the same respect, even if they were in nothing more than a small reception room that was a part of Chris’s private quarters.

“We’d ignore them if we could, Father.” Mike heard Crandall’s soft footsteps resume behind him but ignored his friend for the moment. “They know where we live and aren’t afraid to show up at odd hours to put the pressure on. They’ve come to the dojo too, and the club.” Mike paused, the excuse sounded stupid in his head, but it was true, too: “We don’t exactly have a reasonable excuse to tell the band why we can’t go to a club run by vampires when it’s the best crowd we’ve ever played for.”

Chris smiled his understanding, patient smile. “Do you need more stakes, or blessed water?”

Mike shook his head. Crandall stepped up beside him and spoke. “We need information. We need another way to kill this vampire. He’s stronger than any other I’ve met, by more than I can measure. Stakes and water aren’t going to cut it. I doubt the four of us could bring him down with traditional strategies.”

“You think I have knowledge I haven’t shared.” Chris managed to sound as neutral as possible. Mike couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or offended or amused by this.

“Of course you do.” Crank shoved his hands deep in his pockets and fixed Chris with a hard, unwavering glare. “Everyone knows the church suppresses shit they don’t want out as public knowledge. How do we get our hands on that taboo research?”

Chris bit his lip and Mike was certain it was to hide a sudden smile. Interesting.

“The church does not–”


Chris’s sort-of-smile faded and he hardened his look to match Crandall’s fierceness. “Sit down, please, Crandall.”

When Crandall sat, Mike did too, more because he was stunned Crandall complied so easily than for any need to sit. Crandall could be polite to get what he wanted, but he rarely did so without a lot more prodding.

“The church, as I said, does not have that kind of information.” Chris’s tone was low and steady, like a hypnotist. “However, I know a place that does collect ancient lexicons.”

“Great.” Crandall leaped to his feet. “Let’s go.”

Chris nodded to the chair. Silent.

Crandall stared for a moment and then another. Then with a small nod of his own, Crandall returned to his seat.

Chris continued, “The owners entertain by invitation only. I’ll make a call and see if I can arrange a visit.”

“Thank you,” Mike said.

“Don’t thank me. Prophecy or not, a vampire that strong should be destroyed. However, I can’t promise you two will get an invitation to view the collection. If you do, I strongly suggest you consider how best to approach such an opportunity. If not handled with respect, I may lose a valuable contact to a world the church would not assist us with.

“Crandall, I understand why you make the choices you do, but I’m going to ask you to let Mike do the research.”

“What if I promise not to pick a fight with your friend?”

Chris laughed and visibly relaxed. “If you are able to keep such a promise, I would accept it.”

Crandall snorted and shook his head. “It’s not easy.” Then he smiled an uneasy smile. “I hope I’ll be engrossed in research and Mike can do all the talking.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea.” Father Chris stood, and Mike and Crandall followed him to the back door. “I’ll give you a call, Mike, as soon as I know anything.” He turned to Crandall. “You’ll need to be patient. Sometimes these things take time. My contact has a business to run on top of managing the collection.”

“I don’t know how much time we have,” Mike said, cutting off whatever Crandall was about to spit out.

“I understand.” Chris hugged Mike, and merely smiled fondly at Crandall, before shooing them out the door and into the fragile daylight.


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Posted by on October 12, 2014 in Father Chris, Prophecy, Secrets


Secret Shit

Crank forgot to be Crank. Mike fucked him slowly. He made love with excruciating long and unhurried strokes that Crandall felt through his entire body from the intensity of being filled by Mike’s hard prick to the slide of Mike’s damp skin across Crandall’s torso as Mike flexed his abs and rocked his hips.

As if he knew exactly when Crandall needed it most, and maybe he did, Mike ran a hand down Crandall’s thigh where it wrapped around his waist and eased away, pulling out. He grabbed Crandall’s ankle and lifted his leg. “Turn over,” he said as he leveraged Crandall around to his stomach.

Crandall pulled his knees and elbow beneath him and arched his back shoving his ass high in the air. Mike didn’t make him wait. He caressed Crandall’s ass cheeks and then trailed his fingers around to grab Crandall’s hips like handles. He pulled Crandall’s ass close, nuzzling his cock against Crandall’s entrance. Crandall pushed back, already loosened up and still eager to be fucked.

And fucked was what he got. Good and hard and fast. Just the way he liked it.

As he panted out the last breaths of his orgasm into his pillow, shooting cum across the sheets, Crandall was vaguely aware of Mike pumping his short shallow thrusts that preceded his own orgasm. Exhausted, depleted, and beyond satisfied, Crandall rolled his head to one side and let his eyes drift shut as Mike’s warmth disappeared.  A moment later, the mattress shifted beneath him as Mike flopped down beside Crandall.

“You okay?” Mike asked.

Crandall half-opened one eye. He knew he was smiling. “What kind of question is that?”

“You’re stuck.”

“Huh?” He closed his eye, but then felt Mike’s hand on his hip, still up in the air. It felt like too much work to move his knees to fall flat on the bed.

Mike gave a gentle push. “Don’t you want to lie down?”

Crandall made a noncommittal grunting sound in the back of his throat but went with Mike’s touch, letting him push Crandall until he toppled to his side. Yeah, that was better. Peeking through one eye again, he reached for Mike’s hand as it withdrew. He brought it to his lips and kissed one finger before sucking it into his mouth with a happy hum.

When he let Mike’s hand go, Crandall closed his eye, intent on dozing for a few minutes before dragging Mike out of bed for their usual post-show late-night breakfast at IHOP. His mind had other ideas. With the return of normal blood flow, Crandall remembered the pink note left on Mike’s windshield. With a grumpy groan he threw one arm over his face and flopped onto his back. He did not want to think about vampires any longer tonight. There had to be something they could do to get them to back off.

“Hey, Mike?”


“Do you still talk to that priest?”

Mike was silent for a moment. Crandall tipped his cheek to the pillow and peeked at Mike from under his forearm.

“Father Chris? Yeah, sometimes. What’s got you thinking about him?”

“The church is known for its secrecy. Secret societies and shit like that. Maybe he has some secret vampire killing books at his disposal.”

“I would think he would’ve mentioned that before now.” Mike stared at the ceiling. Crandall could tell he was considering the option despite his objection.

“Have you told him about this stupid-ass prophecy?”

Mike’s brow wrinkled as he frowned. “I don’t think I have.”

“We should.”

“We?” Mike rolled to his side, his gaze locked on Crandall’s.

“Yeah, yeah, I gave you shit about the religious crap. Go ahead and tell me I have a shitty idea. I fucking dare you.”

Mike winced and shook his head. “We can try it. Couldn’t hurt.”

It could. All of that vampire shit could hurt. And that was exactly why Crandall wanted it out of his life. He’d find a way. Even if it meant killing the biggest, baddest vampire of all time. He was starting to think that really was their only way out.


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Posted by on September 14, 2014 in Prophecy, Yum! (NSFW)


Day’s Dawning (part one)

Mike tensed as Crandall stepped forward. Crank shrugged from the arm Mike had had around his waist. Crandall gestured at Mike’s gaming chair. It was old and worn and dirty. It appeared as if it might fall apart if you looked at it wrong. “Sit,” he said, and then turned his back on Nica and grabbed a small wooden decorative box off an end table.

“I’ll stand.” Nica wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms.

“You’ll sit.” Crank pointed at her with the box. “Or, you’ll leave. I don’t have the patience for melodramatic pacing.”

Nica stepped in front of the chair, giving it a dubious look before sitting, slowly, and perching on the edge of the cushion. She folded her hands in her lap, and looked up at Crandall like a chastised and petulant child.

Crandall glared at her a moment longer, and then flipped open the lid of the box. “Fuck me.” He slammed it shut and tossed it on a nearby shelf.

“Not the best choice right now.” Mike whispered the words; his gaze on Crandall’s every moment, while keeping Nica in his periphery.

“It’s empty.” Crandall’s frown turned into a brief, hungry grin. “That’s why I called you.”

Mike glanced at Nica. She hadn’t moved, and looked very unhappy about it. He returned a questioning gaze to Crandall.

Crandall shrugged. “Work sucked more than usual. I wanted a distraction.”

“But you said…” Mike snorted, trying to hold back a sudden chuckle. “Okay, whatever, we can talk about that later.”

“Guys,” Nica started.

“Shut up.” Crandall disappeared into the kitchen and returned with an open bottle of beer.

“Good stuff,” Nica said, eying the bottle.

“Just talk. And keep it short. What are you going to do to make this happen?”

Nica sighed. “I don’t know. What questions do you have?”

“Shit. You insist on coming here and talking, but you don’t have anything to say?”

“I’m supposed to help you, but I can’t just say, ‘Go to Quincy Market at midnight and he’ll be waiting.’” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “If he knew you were coming, you’d never survive anyway.”

“I’m only going to ask once more. Why are you here?”

“To help.” She made some meaningless gesture with her small, pale hands. “I can… I don’t know. Feed you information. Answer questions. Maybe help you figure out his routine.”

“Okay, so what’s his routine?”

“So far?” She looked at the blank TV. “There hasn’t been one.”

“For fuck’s sake–”

“But, I could suggest he make one. Something you guys could figure out.”

Crandall rolled his eyes. Mike crossed his arms. He wasn’t sure why Crandall agreed to let her stay and talk, and now it seemed even more unlikely that Nica would do anything but piss off Crandall.

“You do that.” Crandall took a long drink from his beer.

“I’m serious,” Nica said. “He can’t just lie down and let you stake him. That’d be suicide. But he doesn’t have to be so cautious either. You’ll need to figure out a way to take him by surprise, because he will fight back. He has to.”

“So when you tell him to create a routine, tell him to do it in a steel and concrete box, so we can lock him in.”

Nica wrinkled her nose as if an odd odor offended her. She opened her mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it. After another moment of silence, she said, “You mock me, but if you could find a way to set up a trap somewhere you knew he’d be, you might actually have a shot at this.”

“You don’t think we can do it, so I can’t imagine your advice will be all that fucking helpful.”

“You’re right. I have my doubts. But he’s disrupted my life with this prophecy too, and I wanted it over, one way or another.”

“You’re not that cold-hearted.” Mike leaned against the wall, near the hall to the bedrooms. He wanted to get the first warning should Ash wake up and hear Nica in the apartment.

“I’m not. Judas is determined to die. Max has tried to dissuade him. So have several others. You may have to catch Judas without his entourage. They’ve been told to flee if you attack, but I wouldn’t assume they will. They…” She smirked and did nose thing again. “They kind of worship him, in a way.”

“So kill the fucking groupies first.” Crandall finished his beer and set the bottle aside.

“I didn’t say that.” Nica pushed to her feet. “Day will dawn soon. I should go. Do you need my cell number again?”

“No. Just go. I wouldn’t want to be stuck with you all day.”

“Forget that.” Nica shuddered, and Mike didn’t think it was just for show. “I wouldn’t want to be that vulnerable in this apartment.”

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Posted by on December 1, 2013 in Nica, Prophecy


Skin’s Crawling

With the dojo opening in a few hours, Ash headed to bed. Crandall stretched out on the couch and dropped his head in Mike’s lap with an exaggerated yawn. He wasn’t tired. Not really. Their cat nap before Ash got home had done the trick.

“We should go to sleep,” Mike said. He lazily caressed Crandall’s stomach. Crandall tried to enjoy it, but he sensed a vampire nearby. Maybe two. He tried to ignore the feeling, hoping they were just passing through. He focused on Mike’s touch, but the itch behind his eyes warned him the creatures weren’t moving on. One was in the building, drawing closer. His skin crawled. He couldn’t focus on Mike at all. Fuck.

“Not yet.” Crandall’s voice was low, quieter than usual. “That pain in the ass is on the way up.”

Mike frowned. “Who?”

Crandall sighed and sat up, swinging his feet to the floor. He walked to the door and opened it. After a moment of waiting, he spotted her as she stepped off the elevator. As she approached, obviously wary that he was waiting, he said, “Be fucking quiet or I’ll stake you. I do not want to have to pull Ash off you again.”

When Crandall stepped back, bright red curls filled the doorway as they cascaded around Nica’s face and down over her shoulders. “I assume you mean he’s asleep? I don’t want anything to do with him either.”

“How do you do that?” Mike stood, but remained near the sofa.

Crandall shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know.  Don’t care.” He faced her again as Nica shut the door. “What do you want?”

Nica sighed and flipped her hair over one shoulder. “We have to do this. Trust me, I don’t want to either.” She cocked a hip to one side and braced a defiant fist on it.

“Look here, you pain in the ass, I don’t need to do anything.”

Mike crossed the room, wrapped an arm around Crandall’s shoulder, and pulled him back against his chest. “Calm down,” he said. “Both of you.”

“I don’t need your help.” Crandall remained tense, but pressed against Mike, finding comfort with his warm, strong body at his back.

“You have to do something.” When  neither man said anything, Nica pressed. “They’re not going to let you back out now. You agreed to do this.”

“Fuck that.” Crandall stepped away from Mike to get in her face. “I did not agree to anything. You stupid fucking fangs just assumed we’re going to help you with this crazy ass shit. Well I don’t believe in prophecy. If I see that Judas fucker, I’ll stake him, but I’m not basing my life on his need to give his up.”

“Crank…” Crandall heard the note of warning in Mike’s voice.

“Shit. Go the fuck away,” he hissed in a stage whisper.

“Crandall, please.” Nica looked past him. “Mike?” She looked at Crandall again and sighed. “I didn’t want to do it like this but…”

She looked away, and when she met Crandall’s gaze again, her green eyes were cold and maybe a little bit scared. “They won’t let you walk away from this. You either finish what you’ve started, or they’ll hunt you down. Seems to me it’d be much better for you if you take my help and be the predator, instead of constantly looking over your shoulder like a startled deer wondering if she’s lost the hunter.”

Crandall just stared at her, through her. She shifted from foot to foot. He wanted her gone, but she had a point. Those vampires – her fucking friends – were stronger than any of the ones he’d staked before. It hadn’t taken Crandall long to figure out those vamps were organized and strong, and his friends – fuck, they’d probably only hunted the weak ones that didn’t have the benefit of the pack.

They were different, a step ahead, and there was a very good chance Miss Curls-and-Fangs wasn’t bluffing about any of it.

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Posted by on November 10, 2013 in Nica, Prophecy


Blood Boiling

It took several attempts and a lot of cursing before Crandall dragged Ash’s devoted focus from the vampire sitting on his couch. If it had been anyone else, Crandall would’ve assumed her ultrashort skirt and creamy pale thighs held his attention, but Ash was obsessed with hunting. It probably hurt his head to let her sit there, unharrassed, even if he still couldn’t draw in a full breath after her vicious kick. Fuck, this Judas shit was going to be even harder than Crandall had thought if they had to do it without Ash.

Ash stared at Crandall. He didn’t blink. He didn’t move. Crandall, used to staring at people with intensity, finally understood the depths of discomfort he caused with that behavior. He knew it unnerved most people, but he’d never realized just how much such a stare could make his skin crawl. He wanted to throw a pillow case over Ash’s head to get away from that look that seemed to bore through his skull, his brain, and every pore of his existence.

“You didn’t turn into Terminator when Max showed up unannounced. What the fuck gives?”

“I wanted to stake that one too,” Ash said. “But…” He looked away, shooting a glare at Nica before meeting Crandall’s gaze again. “Something held me back.”


Ash shrugged. “Can we talk about it later?” He paused for a brief moment, leaving Crandall to wonder why Ash couldn’t resist attacking Nica, but had appeared much more under control when Max barged into their training room. Ash interrupted Crandall’s thoughts as he said, I know you told us about her, and I’m all for destroying vampires, but I don’t know if I can do this.” He gestured at Nica. “I can’t be allies with them.”

“We promised,” Crandall said. “We agreed not to attack her, or Angelo’s bastard family. She’s supposed to be helping us.”

“She can’t.”

Crandall snorted. He had his own doubts on how much they could trust Nica. Mike did too. Crandall wanted to believe Max didn’t have an ulterior motive giving her to them, but the whole Judas shitstorm didn’t make sense on the surface. Something wasn’t right. No, a lot of things.

He turned to Nica. “You should go.”


“Yes you fucking can.”

“Nope. Max told me not to come home until we’ve worked out our differences.”

“So you can go. Leave. I don’t care where the fuck you go. I suggest the bottom of the fucking Charles River.”

Nica scowled. “Jerk.”

“Yep. Get over it.”

Ash moved to stand, but Crandall caught his arm and forced him back to the sofa. “I need to think,” Ash said. He looked at Nica. “You’re a vampire–”

Immortale. Some vampires don’t like the v-word.” She rolled her eyes, letting him know she didn’t care herself.

“We can’t be allies,” Ash said.

“Let’s start with not being at each other’s throats. The time is going to come that you need my advice. If I’m pissed at your attitude, you’re less likely to get it.”

“Max said you have to help,” Crandall said.

“He can only force me to do so much before it becomes more work than it’s worth. I’ve known Max since I was killed. I’ll talk with you, but he can’t make the decisions on how much to say for me. I’m not the dumb bimbo you think I am.”

“I think you’re a violent, evil creature.” Ash spat out the words, daring her to attack since he’d been forbidden.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Crandall shoved Ash back and stood up. He glared at Nica, gesturing wildly with his fisted hands. “Just fucking go. We’re good, for now. Get out before you make things worse.”

She rose slowly, narrowing her eyes.

“If you’re as manipulative as you just claimed, you should have no trouble convincing Max you’ve succeeded for now. Get the fuck out!”

* * * *

When Mike burst through the door calling Crandall’s name, he started for the bedroom, but caught the sight of the living room out of the corner of his eye before he’d made it three steps. He stopped, turned, and took in the scene before him.

Once he’d killed the vampire in the parking lot, he’d remembered thinking someone was waiting for someone when he saw movement in the car. Then he’d panicked when he’d thought about who that might be. Vampires didn’t hang around their building, and even if they did, Crandall’s weird vampire senses would’ve warned them if the beast had drawn too close to the apartment. Not once.

Mike sucked in a sharp breath. Time froze. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind, but only two stood out. Devastation and vengeance.

“Crandall,” he whispered, the name nearly a sob.

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Posted by on November 4, 2012 in Immortale, Prophecy



The vampire’s smile warmed, but he did not move from the doorway. After several long seconds, he nodded once and stepped back. “Come,” he said. “I am Nicolucci. I am…what you might consider the right hand of the head of the New England vampires.”

“Nico. Nica. Don’t you Fangs have any original thoughts?” Crandall shoved the stake back into its holster and strode into the now quiet club. Mike held his breath, pausing a moment for a reaction from Nicolucci but, after getting none, he followed Crandall preferring to keep his belligerent singer in sight.

“There is no history between us. Nicoletta is much younger, and from another family well separated from my own line. A coincidence, nothing more.”

“Yeah right.” Crandall started walking toward the stairwell that led to the second floor. “It’s fucking lame. Big, lame vampires. I prefer mine with some balls, like in horror movies.”

Mike, desperate to interfere before Crandall pushed too far, stepped in front of Nico and said, “So you work for Angelo? Or Max?”

Nicolucci politely gestured for Mike to continue, and then fell in step beside him as they crossed the vast dance floor. “Neither,” Nico said. “My mistress has remained outside of this…power play. She observes, but like Angelo, has no direct effect on what is expected from you or your friends.”

“In other words, what Judas wants, Judas gets?” Mike tried to make it sound light and joking, but he was aware of the painful truth in his words.

“When one has as much life experience as Judas Iscariot, one has many methods of acquiring desires.”

“Are you hedging,” Crandall asked without looking back. “Or do you always speak in riddles?”

A soft chuckle echoed from the dark stairway and Crandall stopped in his tracks. His hand returned to the stake at his belt.

“Nicolucci is trying to be polite and answer your questions without revealing many of our secrets.” A shadow drifted forward. In the dim light of neon surrounding the bar, Judas’s features appeared sharper and darker than before.

From the corner of his eye, Mike noticed Nico bow to Judas before moving forward, slipping past the older vampire and up the stairs. Crandall hadn’t moved, but Mike could see the tension crawling up his spine. He took two quick steps to Crandall’s side, ready to grab him should he try something stupid.

“I’m not stupid,” Crandall said with a growl. Mike glanced away from the vampire to meet Crandall’s gaze. “I know damn well I can’t take him like this.”

Mike forced a weak, shaky smile. “Instincts are strong, and we haven’t worked them as well as we should.”

“Shut up, Mike.” Crandall faced the vampire. “You know why we’re here—”

“On the contrary, popular myth says we read minds, but it is just that – a myth. Now, body language is another thing altogether, and your drummer’s concern was not unfounded. Was it, Mr. Jacobsen?”

Crandall snarled, and Judas laughed without mirth. “You demanded us,” Crandall said. “Here we are. Get to the fucking point quick because I have shit to do in the morning.”

Judas’s expression hardened. “I will assume you are here to finalize our deal. If not, you may get the fight you’re itching for, young hunter.”

Crandall visibly relaxed, but his hand remained near his stake. “I’m getting really tired of having to deal with a hundred different people. Max called. You’re being evasive, and Nico/Nica are worse than Brangelina gossip at the office.”

“Max is my, as Nico said, right hand. You only need worry about me, or him. The others are inconsequential.”

“I’m sure they’re thrilled to know that.”

“They know their places.” Judas took a step forward. Crandall sucked in a sharp breath but held his ground.

“Yeah, we’re here to finish this,” Mike said, hoping to shift the conversation back to the purpose of their near dawn visit. “Do we get Nica’s assistance?”

Judas turned away from Crandall and nodded at Mike. “You do.”

“But first,” Crandall said. “You’re going to make sure she’s useless to us.” He stepped to the side, putting space between him and Mike. His fingers closed around the stake again. “Tell her all the things she can’t tell us.”

“Not at all,” Judas said. “I want you to succeed, but I also must ensure my family will not suffer unnecessarily.”

“You don’t trust her.”

“Crandall,” Mike said. “Stop pushing–”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m pushing his buttons, but you know what, he’s not going to do a damn thing about it.”

“Why is that?” Judas asked with an amused smile.

“You need us. You said the four of us made the prophecy. If you kill me, you’ll only have three again.”

Judas laughed and it sent shivers up both the hunters’ spines. It rang with danger and something much, much darker.


Up Next: Friendship Reluctant


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Posted by on December 18, 2011 in confrontations, Nicolucci, Prophecy


An Unlikely Ally

“Yeah, whatever,” Mike said, wishing her to leave, but at the same time grateful to be done with the ‘coming out’ conversation. For now.

“No,” Crandall said.

“No?” Mike asked. “Why not?”

“No.” Crandall shot him a nasty look, and then stared at Nica for several seconds before continuing. “If you knew the story, they you could help us out on this. I’d ask him for that after the show, but if you don’t know shit, then you won’t be helpful, and I don’t have a thing to say to that bastard Fang.”

Nica met his stare with as much force of will as Crandall’s. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s say it’s not too difficult to accidentally overhear stuff once you’re stuck with the vampire bug. Let’s say, I might’ve accidentally overheard some stuff I shouldn’t’ve been a part of. So what? How’s that help you?”

Crandall’s glower shifted slightly. Not quite a smile, but not a frown either, he shrugged and looked over her shoulder as if the wall itself held the solution to the vampire’s prophecy. “Since you need it all fucking spelled out, it goes like this: we have to kill a vampire, and you’re a vampire, so you can provide us useful information about them.”


He ignored the warning tone in Mike’s voice and continued, “So do you know what’s what, or not?”

Nica eyed him, apparently debating her choices before admitting or denying what she knew.

“Don’t bother trying that vampire mind trick shit. I don’t bullshit.”

“I don’t need to read minds to know that,” she said. She visibly relaxed, and then smiled and nodded. “Sure, if Max approves, I’ll help you guys out. I might have to hang out with you at practice and stuff, so I can, you know, be available for questions, or whatever.”

“We practice during the day,” Crandall said.


He frowned. “Fuck you.”

Mike stepped forward, a wary hand resting on Crandall’s left arm. He wouldn’t put it past him to swing his stake at the girl simply for standing up to him. Not that he’d ever threw a punch at anyone, but the Hunter blood did weird things to their instincts, and Mike wouldn’t risk it feeding off Crandall’s natural born fury at the world at large.

“The dojo?” Mike asked.

Nica nodded. “I’m probably out of line here, but I suppose Max’ll want an agreement on actually attempting the… thing. You know, in exchange for my help? Because if I’ve overheard anything, I’d be fairly certain that’s why he’s been shadowing you.”

“What?” Mike’s head snapped up, searching the woman’s face for a clue. “He’s been following us?”

“If you can’t say it, I doubt you can help,” Crandall said with a snarl. He shook Mike’s hand off his arm, but otherwise did not move.

“I won’t say it because I technically don’t know what “it” is yet.” She winked at him. “I’ll deliver your message and let you know what Max says. ‘Kay?”

Crandall said nothing, but Mike nodded when she looked to him. “Great,” she said. “Have a great show!” She stepped forward, pushing up on her toes, she kissed Crandall’s cheek. She spun around and headed back down the hall. At the doorway, she paused and looked back. “Beryl knows, by the way, and Jon suspects. It’s all good around here. Timelessness tends to overcome short-lived society hang-ups. Or whatever you want to call it.” To their confused stares, she shrugged one thin, pale shoulder and then ducked through the doorway and into the crowd.


Up Next: She’s Right


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Posted by on October 16, 2011 in Nica, Prophecy, Secrets