My Life Without Garlic (3 page)

Still, it was funny to see it happen. “Hehehehe, moron.” He took a step and squealed when his foot slid. “Ack!”

For one horrible moment, Augustin thought he was going to do the splits and possibly lose his balls. He flailed his arms but balance wasn’t part of the picture anymore. He fell, tipping head first toward the window.

Augustin flung one hand out to keep from decapitating himself. His hand slapped the glass and it gave beneath his weight. At first he didn’t even feel the pain when the glass cut him. He’d managed to grab the window frame with his other hand, so he hadn’t bashed his brains out.

But then he realized something dreadful.

His right hand and most of his arm was now outside, and he was bleeding—

And that ugly fucking vampire was reaching for his wrist. The thing licked its lips and had a hold of him in a move so fast Augustin didn’t even see it happen.

“Now who’s laughing?” the God-awful creature asked in a voice that made Augustin’s legs shake. The vampire smacked its lips. “Not you,” it said wretchedly.

Augustin jerked his arm back to no avail. The vampire held onto him. “This is just a dream. It’s just a dream,” Augustin mumbled, something very much like absolute terror clogging his throat.

“Is it?” the vampire asked. “Of course it is. So invite me in. It’s just a dream after all.”

And
that
didn’t reassure Augustin at all. He was suddenly and thoroughly sure that it wasn’t a dream. “I h-had l-lots of g-garlic with d-dinner,” he got out between chattering teeth. He pulled back harder and only succeeded in nearly dislocating his shoulder.

“Doesn’t matter, as long as you’ve already ingested it.”

Augustin could only watch in horror as the vampire raised his wrist. Then the creature licked over the bleeding wound and shuddered.

“Oh, divine,” it murmured.

Augustin wasn’t going to be dinner for the spawn of Satan or Lilith, whatever the hell a vampire was! He hauled back with his other hand, would have swung his fist except a dark figure shot out of nowhere and tackled the vampire.

Augustin’s arm was almost yanked off before he was let go. He toppled backward onto his ass.

“You idiot,” he heard a deep, masculine voice say. “You can’t attack humans!”

Augustin sat up and shrieked again when he saw another vampire at the window. “Oh my God! Go away!”

“You’re bleeding rather profusely,” the second—or was it a third? He didn’t know anymore—vampire said. “You need help.”

“Not your kind of help,” Augustin snapped. He grabbed his bleeding wrist and squeezed. It made his head spin from the pain. “Urgh! This can’t be real!”

“Let me in. I’ll help.”

Augustin looked at the vampire. This one seemed less malevolent, and he’d bet that was the fucker’s hook. “Trust me, I only want a sip,” he grumbled. “Fuck off. I prefer to keep all my blood to myself.”

The vampire—a rather attractive male with short, auburn hair and…well, damn, red eyes—smirked at him. “I’ve already fed, but a few licks can seal your wound.”

“Right,” Augustin snorted. “Do I look like I just fell off the turnip truck?”

“You look like the turnip truck ran you over,” the vampire said. “Twice.”

“I’d invite you in if I had a crucifix nearby,” Augustin ground out.

“Well, that must be good enough,” the vampire informed him, reaching through the broken glass and flipping the window’s lock.

“What?
No
!” Augustin scampered to his feet. “Out, out, back! Bad vampire! Bad vampire!”

Apparently the vampire wasn’t trained, because he pushed the window open then came in as if he’d been invited.

Augustin was totally blaming the faint he felt coming on on blood loss.

Chapter Four

“You killed him? Or was it Radney?”

Tony didn’t get to answer before he was swatted on the back of the head. “Ow! Hey, cut it out, Claude! You’re going to detach my retinas or optic nerves or whatever holds my eyeballs in my head.”

“An interesting idea,” Claude mused. “Oh, he’s not dead.”

“Duh,” Tony muttered, earning him another wallop, but he didn’t complain since he had it coming. “He fainted just like a delicate—” Boy, he caught himself in time, and was damn glad of it. “Flower,” he finished with as Chelsea came in through the window. She’d have damaged him severely had he said ‘girl’ in conjunction with ‘delicate’. One of these days, he’d remember to get with the times.

“I know what you were gonna say,” Chelsea growled at him. “I might detach your optic nerves for it.”

“I stopped, didn’t I?” Tony asked. “Anyway, he fainted, and he’s bleeding.”

“What’re you waiting for?” Chelsea asked, floating over to him. She really dug being a supernatural creature and hardly ever let her feet touch the floor. “That’s free fresh blood!”

“I can’t steal it,” Tony said, prepared to argue.

Chelsea widened her eyes at him then somehow made them bulge enough to creep him out.

Claude bellowed out a deep, rich laugh.

Tony told himself to get his head out of his butt. The wound needed closing and he could do that. There would be the temptation to sink his fangs into warm, bloody, human flesh, but—

Chelsea grabbed at the unconscious man’s arm. “I’ll do it.”

Tony managed to move said arm so she missed her grab. He stuck his tongue out at her first then quickly dragged it over the wound. “Ungh goth!”

Sweet baby Jesus, blood, blood, blood!

God damn, his brain was always like that when it was time to feed. Never mind that he wasn’t hungry, having had a pint the day before. That was all any of them needed to make it through a week before the hunger struck again.

That wasn’t exactly true. The
hunger
was always right there under the surface like a bad case of jock itch, infecting them beneath a few layers of skin.

Well. If that description didn’t work wonders for my self-control.
Thinking about a virulent form of crotch fungus happened to work great for that. Tony was able to lick the blood off and seal the wound. Vampire spit was good for that, which was awesome because otherwise they’d have a bunch of dead bodies all over the city.

No, they wouldn’t, because humans would have caught on for real, not like the nutjobbers out there pretending to be vampires. Tony scoffed at them like all the other real vampires did.
Wannabes.

“Are you just going to sit there making out with his wrist?” Chelsea asked.

Tony realized that was kind of what he was doing, which was mortifying. He was already the youngest vampire in their coven—forgetting himself would only give the others more ammunition than they already had. And while he had kicked Radney’s ass for being a bigoted turd, Tony couldn’t take on everyone else for giving him shit.

“It’s a nice wrist,” he pointed out, raising his head up and eyeing it. “Thick, hairy on the back but not the underside. Nice veins.
Nice
veins. What’s not to love here?”

Just then said wrist was yanked out of his grasp. He heard someone utter, “Fuck.”

“Oh lovely. He’s awake.” Claude squatted beside Tony. “What’s your plan now?”

Tony was about to ask why he was the one who was supposed to have the plan. After all, Claude was over five hundred years old and should damn well have an answer for everything.

But he didn’t get a word out.

“Oh my God!” the man screeched, scampering sideways-ish like a confused crab. “Out! I uninvite you giant mosquitoes!”

Tony gawped but Claude chortled. Chelsea smacked her lips loudly, then asked, “Remember how we used to deal with humans that found out about us?”

“What? No!” The man began to wave frantically. “I won’t tell anyone. I’m crazy. Ask my mother, she’ll tell you that! Only a crazy man would say no to that nice Melissa Pattinson down the street!”

“I’m thinking he maybe really
is
nuts,” Claude whispered. “Look at his eyes. Those suckers are rolling around like they’re loose in there.”

“Get your mind off the optic nerve already. That joke has passed.” Tony gestured with his chin at the human. “He’s going to piss himself or worse if we don’t calm him down.”

“Worse? What—” Claude grimaced. “Oh for God’s sake, don’t let that happen!”

“What’s your name?” Tony asked loudly, cutting through the man’s babbling.

“A-Augustin,” he stammered.

That was when he looked at Tony, and Tony really looked at him back. Something inside of Tony went
Oh
and something about two and a half feet down from his head went
sproing!

“Augustin,” Tony repeated, trying to get other words to form, but he was kind of lost looking into the dark green eyes across from him.

“For fuck’s sake,” Claude groused. “Are you going to drool, too?”

Tony pulled his gaze around to glare at Claude. “Jealous?”

“As if.” Claude sniffed. “You’re far too old for me now.”

Tony snorted. “You’re going to wake up a pile of ashes a lot sooner than I will,” he pointed out.

“Then I won’t be waking up at all, will I? What a ridiculous statement.”

“It could happen sooner than you think,” Tony mumbled. Only he wasn’t joking or threatening and Claude knew it.

“The human,” he said, nodding toward Augustin. “What do you propose we do?”

“Why are you asking me?” Tony asked.

At the same time Augustin answered with, “Oh! I know! I know! Let me live! I have high cholesterol anyway and would probably poison anyone who tried to eat me.”

“You damn fool, we’re vampires, not cannibals,” Chelsea snapped. “Don’t be gross.”

“Gross?
I’m
gross?” Augustin retorted with a lot of anger for a human surrounded by vampires.

“You know why I’m asking you,” Claude said then. “You know.”

“I don’t know why you think I’ll be a good coven leader,” Tony argued. “Chelsea—”

“Would end up killing every dumbass vamp that couldn’t get his or her shit together like this,” Chelsea snapped. “That’s why it won’t ever be me. I’d extincticate our kind.”

“Extincticate?” Tony repeated, shaking his head. “That’s not even a word. Eradicate, maybe?”

“Fuck off,” Chelsea snapped. “I’ll show you what extincticate means!”

“You sound like an excellent leader to me,” Augustin chimed in. “I vote for her.”

Tony groaned. “Aw, man. I am so not prepared for this crap.”

Chapter Five

“Not prepared for what crap?” Augustin asked. Maybe if he acted friendly, these…overgrown leeches would think he
was
a friend and he could find something to stab them with.

It has to be a stake, right? Wooden? Shit, I don’t have any wood! Well, I mean, when I’m turned—
Augustin’s internal rambling was cut off by the geezer vampire, Claude. Or Clod, as he was going to think of him.

“You have the look of a man plotting something devious.”

Augustin fluttered his lashes. “Why, whatever do you mean, Clod?”
Shit!
“Er, Claude?”

“Clod?” The cute younger male vampire, Tony—and wasn’t that an Italian name? He didn’t
look
Italian. Well, Augustin didn’t look Latin, or Roman, or
whatever!
He looked like a slightly overweight American guy who was too pathetic to get a date.

“At least try to be original with your insults, Augustin. At my age, I doubt there’s anything new you could throw at me,” Claude said.

Augustin narrowed his eyes at him. “Well, you’re just a snotty fuck, aren’t you?” Oh hell. He was so going to die.

Claude stuck his pointy nose up in the air. “Heard
that
one more times than I can count.”

“If you get tired of it, I can suggest a cure.” Augustin sat up so he could maybe make a run for it.
Oh, who am I kidding? I can’t get my ass up in under thirty seconds.

“Would it involve his death or yours?” Chelsea asked, smirking at Augustin. “Because I’m thinking we off him and Radney both and be done with this shit.”

Augustin really didn’t like her at all. “Please tell me you’re all sterile. I’d hate to think of you spitting out kids.”

Chelsea bared long, scary fangs at him. “I only phit them out after I dwain them.”

“That’s disgusting, and I don’t believe you and you would sound more impressive without the lisp,” Augustin said, but his heart was trying to escape out of his chest because she did seem like a mean, psychotic—

“I can hear your heartbeat,” Chelsea said. Then she sniffed loudly, her nostrils flaring. “And I can smell your fear. It’s delicious.”

“That’s just gas,” Augustin said. It
was
fear, but fuck her if he’d admit it.

Chelsea hacked and Claude scooted away from him. Tony pinched his nose shut. “You’re lying, right?” Tony asked.

Augustin took advantage of their fear to get to his feet. Who knew vampires were such wusses?

“You are,” Tony said, letting go of his nose. He sniffed delicately. “That’s fear, and a little bit of arousal.”

Augustin was insulted. “Then it’s one of you pervs who’s aroused. I’m single, but not desperate enough for necrophilia. I’ll never be that hard up.”

Claude raked him with a cold stare. “Are you certain about that?”

“Why hasn’t someone staked you yet?” Augustin asked. “And you know, none of you seem particularly bright. You can’t tell the difference between gas and fear?”

“They both reek,” Tony muttered. “And I didn’t get to finish high school. I was kicked out at fourteen and— Oh, what do you care. We’re all just dead freaks to you.”

That’s right
. Augustin had almost felt sympathy for Tony there for a minute, but Tony had fixed that. “That’s nicer than— Eek!”

One second Tony was several feet away from him, and the next,
whammo!
Augustin was pinned between the wall and a really irritated vampire.

A cute, hard-bodied vampire.

No! Dead guy! He’s a dead guy! He’s—
“What’s jabbing my hip?” Augustin asked, not sure he really wanted to know.

“Nothing,” Tony snapped, twisting his lower body to the side.

For all the good it did him, because Chelsea cackled and shouted gleefully, “Hey, lookit that! Tony’s got a hard-on for Fat Boy!”