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IMAGINE SHOVING A cattle prod up a rhino’s ass, shouting “April fool!”, and hoping the rhino thinks it’s funny That’s about howa vampire
Personally, I don’t have anything against shroud eaters They’re just another kind of addict in a city of addicts Since e of decent vaular people Right now, though, I’ completely up my ass It isn’t fun work, but it pays the bills
The vampire’s name is Eleanor Vance In the Xeroxed passport photo Marshal Wells gave me, she looks like she’s about seventeen Probably because she is A pretty blond cheerleader type with big eyes and the kind of sround Bad news forvampires are all assholes It’s part of their job description
I love older vampires A hundred and fifty, two hundred years old, they’re beautiful The smart ones mostly stick to the El Hombre Invisible tricks that urban monsters have worked out over centuries They only feed when they have to When they’re not hunting, they’re boring, at least to outsiders They couy who runs the corner bodega What I like best about old bloodsuckers is that when you’ve got one cornered and it knows it’s coffin fodder, they’re like noble cancer patients in TV nity Young vampires, not so much
The young ones have all grown up watching Slayer videos, Scarface, Halloween, and about a million hours of Japanese anihtsaber in one hand and a chain saw in the other Eleanor, tonight’s undead dreaot a homemade flamethrower I know because when she blasted e, she fried one of my eyebrows and the left sleeve of my new leather jacket Ten to one she found the plans on the Web Why can’t vampires just download porn like normal jailbait?
It’s Sunday, about a quarter to six in the evening We’re don I follow her along South Hill Street toward Pershing Square I’ sleeves and carrying an u happy, like she owns the air and everyone has to pay her royalties whenever they breathe Only she’s not really relaxed I can’t read a juicer’s heartbeat or breathing changes because they don’t have them And she’s too far away to see if her eyes are dilated, but she keeps ht She’s trying to look around without looking around Hoping to catch my shadow or reflection Eleanor knows she didn’t kill irl I hate sirls
At the corner of Third Street, Eleanor shoulder-butts an old lady and what’s probably her grandkid into the street, in front of a flatbed truck carrying a backhoe The driver slaround Cue the screa tires Cue the sheep who stand around pointing and the Captain Americas who run to help They pull the old lady and the kid back onto the sidewalk, which is great for theone
But it’s not hard to find her Fifty people must have seen her pull the stunt and half of theht onto Broadway I take off after her I’m fast, a hell of a lot faster than the flat-footed civilians trying to chase her down, but I’m not quite as fast as a vaet out of the sun before she turns into chicken-fried steak
She’s gone when I hit Broadway This part of town isn’t that crowded on Sundays I have a clear view in both directions No perky blondes running down the street in flas down here, but all the offices and most of the stores are closed There are a few open doors in the set cornered in one of those little cracker boxes There’s only one place a so
God said, “Let there be Light, and cheap take-out Chinese,” and the Grand Central Market appeared The place has been on South Broadway since before the continents divided Some of the meat they use in the burritos and Szechuan beef is even older I think I once saw Fred Flintstone’s teeth marks on some barbecued ribs
Inside, I’ down tacos and pizza There’s a liquor store to ainst the far wall Every spice known tomeat Not too much of a crowd at this ti up receipts I don’t see Eleanor down the central ay or either of the side ones I start down the ht, and walk by a fish stand I’ theto pick up any tiny vibrations in the aether I’ Ambush predator stuff as opposed to o down quite as well in the streets of LA as they did in the arena
Subtle hunting, acting like a grown-up, I really miss Hell sometimes
A tourist dad asks et back on the freeway to Hollywood fro about his taxes and how co addicts
Six months after the New Year’s bash at Avila and I’m still not used to this place, these people In a lot of ways civilians are worse than Hellions because at least Hellions know they’re hterhouse shit More and more, I want one of these mortal types to have to face down a valiht into a beast’s red ry for the souls of the terminally clueless
Be careful what you wish for