MisStaked (52 page)

"Breathred, stop it! You're killing him,” Luna screamed.

Non-Breathred looked at her. For one brief second Luna swore she saw a flicker of the old Breathred. She bit her bottom lip, waiting for her words to break through to him. They had to. On some level he must know they were his friends. Somewhere in there, the Breathred she loved still existed.

"Please, let him go,” she begged, as Stud's anguished howls filled the room.

Breathred blinked. Without a word, he lowered his hand. Instantly, the energy surrounding Stud disappeared, sending the chimp shooting through the air. He came down in a cussing, smoking lump against the far wall.

"Thank you,” Luna said, weakly.

"Milady,” Breathred said with a nod of his head.

"Look! I don't know what's going on here, but I will not have it. We are here for a simple virgin sacrifice. Is that too much to ask for?” Leopold shouted.

"Leo, chill out. You're kind of losing it and beginning to look like a total dweeb,” Lewis advised him.

"Dweeb! I am over three hundred years old. People my age do not—I repeat—do not look like dweebs!"

"Well, a jackass, then.” Lewis mumbled under his breath.

Leopold gave him a harsh look. “I heard that."

"I meant you to."

"I'm so sure you did, you mutha,” Leopold snarled.

"Shut yo mouth.” Lewis grinned.

"This is no time for your retro clichés. Get my virgin!"

"Silence!” Not-Breathred yelled.

Luna's mouth fell open at the sound of his voice echoing through the room. She wasn't one bit surprised to see the entire room fall silent or when every eye turned to the possessed Breathred. Luna knew shock was the least of the things running through any of their minds at the moment.

"There he is. Go get him.” Leopold whispered to Lewis, drawing a weak chuckle from her.

"You go get him.” Lewis told him. “I'm no fool. That whatever-it-is ain't the same nerd. You risk yo’ lily-white ass if you want to, but I ain't."

"This farce is at an end. Demon spawn, it is time to pay for your unnatural existence,” Not-Breathred said in his cold, empty voice.

Luna couldn't move. This was all wrong. She was torn between her love for Breathred and the realization he may no longer exist. What was she going to do, if he was truly gone like this Antipaste character said? Luna couldn't accept that. Uncle Joan had said she could save him. How to do that was what had her stymied.

Luna heard the sound of Stud moaning from where he lay against the wall. She had forgotten all about him. With everything that had been going on, she couldn't be expected to remember everything. The chimp was moving, so he couldn't have been hurt that badly. Besides, she always thought he needed shock therapy, anyway. As much as she would have liked to check on him, Breathred needed her more.

The world behind her exploded with the sounds of battle. Well, it really wasn't a battle. Maybe a one-sided ass-whooping would be closer to the truth. In any case, however you want to describe it, it didn't sound good.

She turned around just in time to see Breathred unleash a hail of lightning after the fleeing vampires. They barely dodged the bolts by jumping behind the altar. The lightning tore holes in the marble altar. Luna was happy to see, thankfully, D'brea's body missed a direct hit during the barrage. Luna would hate to see the vampire queen come to any harm. Aside from being a shameless hussy, D'brea was good people.

Everything was happening so quickly, she didn't know what to do. This sounded so simple back at Uncle Joan's apartment. Now, it was all going to hell in a hand-basket. Where were Uncle Joan and Brogan? Luna wasn't sure how much help they were going to be, but at this point anything was better than nothing.

"Fiends, there is no sense hiding. Your judgment is upon you.” Breathred's voiced boomed.

"Can't we talk this over? I might have been a little hasty about sacrificing you,” Leopold yelled, waving a lace hanky above the altar. “Perhaps, we could work something out."

Luna watched in horror as a lightning bolt shredded the hanky.

Leopold drew back the smoldering handkerchief. “Well, that was just rude. A polite no would have been enough."

"Breathred, stop this! This isn't you.” Luna pleaded.

"Woman, I said be quiet! If you cannot control yourself, I will do so for you,” Not-Breathred said.

Before Luna could say another word, Breathred flicked his hand, sending her sailing into the air. She looked around to see the far wall rushing toward her. Luna twisted her body at the last minute, but that didn't save her from the skull jarring impact that shot through her, as she connected with the wall.

Luna had five seconds of lucidity before everything went black. Disbelief splashed through her mind, as her consciousness faded. Her last thought was that Breathred wouldn't hurt her.

Stud smacked the smoke from his eyes at the sound of Luna's impact. He turned around just in time to see Luna's body crumple next to him. He slapped out the last of the embers from his head and shuffled over to her side.

Lightly moving the hair from her face, the chimp saw a thin line of blood ran from Luna's mouth and cascaded down her cheek. Stud held his breath, fearing the worst. The sound of his beating heart drowned out the fighting going on in the room around him. She had to be all right. He couldn't lose Breathred and her all in the same day. Who would pick up his dry cleaning? R.J. sure as hell wouldn't.

Stud wasn't even sure what had happened to her. One minute he was lit up like a Christmas tree, then the next he was doing his impression of a cigarette butt, which wasn't his idea of a fun night out on the town. He couldn't see Breathred, even if he wasn't possessed, hurting Luna, so that left the vamps. Dirty-ass bloodsuckers were bound to have done it.

A sound escaped Luna. Stud's eyes instantly fell to her. She still looked like hell, but some of the color was coming back to her face. Her chest moved with the slow rhythm of steady breathing. Stud let out a sigh, although he didn't want to let her see he was worried.

Her eyes snapped open to Stud's relief. She tried to get up, but he pushed her back down. “Don't even think about it. Now lay there and tell me what happened.” He placed his hand on her shoulder.

"He's gone,” she started sobbing.

"Who's gone, Sweetie?” Stud was confused, but a thousand volts tended to do that to you.

"Breathred,” she whispered; tears swelled from her swollen eyes. “He hurt me, Studie."

Stud's heart went cold. He could understand Breathred taking a swipe at him. You could only repress anger for so long, but Luna? Breathred would never hurt Luna. The idea was so insane Stud had problems even processing it. He would have still been sitting there with his mouth hanging open if she hadn't reached up and grabbed his neck. “He's not in there anymore. Th-that whatever it is, has taken him over.” Stud could barely hear her words through the sobs tearing through her.

He didn't know what to say. She wouldn't lie to him. The thought sent a wave of anger boiling through him. His Gilligan was gone. The asshole in his place had hurt the only other person in the whole flaming world he cared about—besides Estelle Getty—who wasn't returning his e-mails anymore, so she didn't count.

Stud wasn't about to accept that. One way or another, he would get his damn Gilligan back and, if any way possible, a Ginger. He knew just how to do it. The same way dear old mom would do it. He'd sneak up behind him and hit with something big and heavy, like a statue of a big naked guy with a little weenie. Which Stud grabbed as he put phase one of his plan into action.

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Don't go to the bathroom yet, this is the part you've been waiting for.

Slinking around the edges of the room, Stud kept his eyes on Breathred and the two vamps. So far, he had been able to get close without any of them noticing. Maybe they had forgotten all about him. Dodging lightning bolts and trying to electrocute your enemies kind of blocked everything else out, or at least Stud hoped so.

A stray bolt of lightning raked down the room directly in front of him. Stud ducked and hit the ground. The slick statue shifted in his hand and he had to scramble to catch it before the thing went ballistic. Stud let out a mumbled curse. The last thing he wanted was to lose his only weapon.

From his floor-eye view, Stud could see Breathred was making mincemeat of the two vampires’ hiding place. A full-on blast rocked the altar from the floor up, cleaving the block of marble into two uneven pieces with the vampire mother's body thrown haphazardly between them. Somehow, either by blind luck or poor marksmanship, D'brea's body had missed any damage from the goob's barrage. If Breathred kept it up, that wouldn't last too much longer. The only other thing working in their favor was that Breathred was so intent on the two vamps he'd forgotten all about anyone else being in the room.

Chimps have a saying:
He who turns his back on the baboon, has a shitty hairdo to show for it
. Well, Breathred was about to get a pompadour from hell.

The chimp was about to make his move, when two shadows moved in the darkened doorway behind the fighting. Hunkering back down, a flash of scarlet lipgloss about six and a half feet in the air told him reinforcements had shown up. ‘Bout damn time too! Chimps were thinkers, not fighters.

He caught a glimpse of Brogan slipping away from the other man. Joan angled to the right. It was a classic flanking move Stud had learned from hours of video games.

The chimp scooted back. Why should he risk himself, when there were two humans more than willing to do it for him? The fact they had no idea what had happened to Breathred didn't even occur to him. The way Stud saw it, they'd find out soon enough. Well, he was just a little monkey. The minute he popped his head up to say, “Hey, the big human with lightning bolts shooting out his fingers is possessed,” he'd be a fire-grilled chimp. The safest thing to do was sit back until the two heroes were the ones getting their asses kicked, then sneak up and whomp Breathred upside the head. If he were lucky, the two vamps would be out of the picture before that happened.

It was a good plan. Too bad Luna didn't get the memo.

She rose on shaky legs. Blood caked her face. It did little to mar the determination that called her face home. Her first step threatened to send her back to the marble floor. Luna shook away the pain, coiled it around the beast that begged to be called to freedom. Breathred was her only concern. Her only thought.

Luna vaguely noticed the fact Brogan and Uncle Joan had finally arrived. Her centered mind did not even acknowledge the existence of the two vampires, who sat huddled behind the shattered altar. Her footsteps were muted echoes under the screaming power of Breathred's attack.

Her stealth mattered little. Luna wanted the bastard who had put the hoodoo on Breathred to know she was coming. It had taken the only man she would ever love from her. He was going to pay for that. Even if she had to kick Breathred's ass to do it, that sucker was going back to hell where he belonged.

"Breathred!” Luna howled above the ungodly din. Every head stopped what they were doing and turned toward her.

"Woman, your would-be lover is gone. Only I remain.” Smoke curled from Not-Breathred's fingertips.

"I figured it out on my own, Dipshit,” she spat.

"I have ignored your aberrations because of the misplaced emotions of my host, but no longer.” Breathred stepped around the broken altar, placing himself but feet away from it.

D'brea's desiccated body was nestled between the altar's two halves. Leopold and Lewis peeked warily over the mummified remains of their queen. Neither made a move to flee. Like everyone else, they were rooted in place by the tableau playing out before them.

Antipaste's attack came so fast Luna didn't have time to react. A blue fireball shot from his outstretched hand and engulfed her. The spinning orb threw her into the air, the eldritch energy holding her at the ball's center. Stray offshoots of energy crackled and sparked over the ball's surface. Luna screamed as the energy spiked into her.

Stud did something that, if you knew him, would have surprised the shit* out of you.

*Excuse my French.

He leapt from his warm, safe hidey-hole and ran for Breathred. His short, stumpy legs propelled him past his cowardliness—no mean feat. With the marble naked guy high overhead, Stud closed the distance between them and swung.

Stud had less than a second to think how crazy he was acting. Sure, Breathred needed a good knock upside the head, but preferably not when he was a ghost-poxed nutcase. The thought hung there for the span of one heartbeat. Then the smack to Breathred's head got in the way of any doubts he might have had.

The sound of the impact of the statue wasn't the gunshot you've read about. It wasn't even as loud as a pop-fart in a library. It was more like the sound of a wet noodle slapping a plate, only it wasn't marinara shooting off that plate.

Breathred's head rocked forward, his eyes wide with surprise. The power ebbed and sputtered from his hands, sending Luna crashing to the floor. Her body let out a weak whimper as she hit.

Breathred staggered back. His face was a clear map to the confusion that played across his mind. Blood trickled down his forehead from a cut high above his right eye. He stumbled backwards, giving Stud a hurt look before collapsing into the shattered altar.

"Stud! What the hell's going on?” Brogan rushed into the room.

"What's it look like? Everything went FUBAR while you and Joan were tiptoeing through the tulips,” Stud snarled, as he ran to Luna's side.

The chimp ignored the rest of the man's comments as he dropped beside Luna. Except for a perm from hell, she looked okay. Her breathing was steady. Stud let out a sigh. Now he could check on Breathred.

Stud turned around to see Leopold and Lewis heading for the door and sprinted to catch them, yelling, “Brogan, the vamps are making a break for it!"

The two vamps stopped like deer in headlights. It was more than a reactionary move. You have a chimp, a hairy Canadian, and seven-foot-tall transvestite running at you, and see if you don't freeze up like Frosty in a Dairy Queen. The vamps never had a chance.