Bela the Nymphomaniac Vampire Slayer

Chapter 12: Why Tristan is not in fact as big a bastard as he sometimes seems to be

We left the bar not long after I managed to heckle Tristan into giving me my share of the bet. Even though it's only around a half hour past midnight, for some reason I just don't feel like partying, and by the way Tristan and Taylan kept exchanging glances earlier I can tell something is up that is not going to lead to me having my much-deserved, now looking very unlikely to happen any time soon, night off. Particularly considering the fact that neither of them seemed to have decided I was worth filling in.

Now, I'm used to being in the dark, and I'm not talking about the fact that my usual waking patterns are nocturnal. Thing is, lot of the time in my line of work I'm flying blind. Sure I've had a few tips from Gareth and the like, and like any slayer worth their shit I check the newpapers every once in a while to see where the “disappearances” are happening. Sometimes it's not a bumpy- that bullshit that went down with that Bernie bastard being the worst, but not the only time I've ended up tangling with someone... outside my usual jurisdiction, let's call it.

But this shit from Taylan and Tristan knowing each other? Not being upfront in their little “let's break it to Bela that we are not in fact complete utter strangers and in fact like to talk about her behind her back”? That just pisses me off. There's such thing as professional courtesy. Like Tristan said, I never do seem to get a break from this shit.

And now that son of a bitch seems to have decided to add to it. Sympathy my toned, mahogany ass- one of these days Tristan is going to get his, and my only hope is that I'll be able to stand on the sidelines and laugh while it happens.

Taylan is edging his way onto my shit-list too, good looks aside.

A few cars pass us as we stroll together down the footpath, past the various neon-lit window displays of the long-closed stores, but even though during the day this area would be chockablock with traffic, right now for the most part the street is pretty deserted. This is probably fortunate, as while I did say 'stroll', the picture we must be making as we progress down the half-lit cement would be hilarious to any watchers. Tristan is swinging along at a fair clip on those fucking crutches, and Taylan is keeping up with easy, long-legged strides, whereas I...

Well, I'm sure you people can figure it out. I'm sure I've mentioned to you guys before that I'm not exactly the most statuesque on the slayers' roll-call. Frankly, I'm a short-ass. So yeah, you can probably imagine the fun I'm having right now trying to keep up with these two long-legged shit-for-brains, especially in five inch heels. Like to see them try- man that would be a picture.

“So where are we heading, boys?” I demand, struggling to keep up.

They're not slowing down. Bastards.

Actually come to think of it, the image of those two in my usual getup of stilettoes and corsets? Man, that would be fucking priceless. And awesome blackmail material, fuck, I can't even imagine what Tristan would want to pay to keep that kind of photo out of Jezebel's well-manicured paws.

And I could probably send the photos of Taylan to some gay magazine and actually get some money out of the deal since he's so drool-worthy...

Mmmm, actually that's not such a bad idea... Ooh, now there's a man who would look quite delicious in drag- think an Arab-flavoured David Bowie, only without the drug addiction, and with same-coloured eyes... though I don't know what sort of singer he'd be. It's hard to tell just from appearances. Music tastes on the other hand, fuck, what is it with people trying to integrate their music tastes with their “look”? I mean, just because I wear a lot of corsetry doesn't mean I'm into the emo scene... or the goth one for that matter. It's just easier to hide the blood and muck and for night work it's just more practical sometimes...

“You'll see where we're going when we get there,” smirks Tristan, breaking through my thoughts.

What was I talking about again?

Oh yeah, I'm pissed at both of the tossers, and I'm going to make them fucking regret it, if it's the last thing I ever do.

I trip on an unseen crack in the pavement and nearly twist my ankle.

“Motherfucking cuntlice!”

My longer legged associates both turn to stare at me.

“Fuck you and your mothers twice!”

“Uh Bela,” Tristan says, looking particularly worried. “Are you okay back there?”

I look at him with my favourite winsome children-of-the-corn expression, re: creepy like a kid out of something by Stephen King. “Why of course dearest darling sweetums, I am perfectly fine in every way that you could care to ask about,” I say, fluttering my eyelashes at him.

Ooh, he flinched. It never ceases to amaze me just how much of a coward Tristan can be sometimes. God, I'm like a foot shorter than him, how on earth could he view me as that much of a threat?

“I've been meaning to ask you, aren't those shoes hurting your feet?” Taylan asks me suddenly.

So he noticed did he? Weird, in all the years I've been wearing these things, the only other person to ask me about them was Georgie.

“They hurt like a bitch after a team of footballers on a buck a fuck night. They're narrow steel-toed five inch heels. Of course they're fucking hurting. It's sheer torture walking in these things,” I scoff at him.

Taylan's brow furrows.

“Then why do you wear them? If they're causing you so much pain, what's the point in wearing such impractical shoes?”

I shake my head and sigh. “They aren't impractical. These are my vamp-killing boots. If I have to explain it, you won't ever understand, so I won't bother.”

Taylan looks like he's about to reply to that when suddenly his eyes widen considerably, looking at something that's over my shoulder.

I turn, and that's when I see him. It.

Them.

He has minions.

Fucking fuck we're fucked.

“So you're a slayer are you lovely,” the leading vampire drawls, gesturing to his minions to surround us. Oh shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! “I was considering waiting for a more... tempting target, but it's always much more fun to take down prey that has a few more, shall we say, preconceptions about what is about to happen to them.”

I can hear Tristan and Taylan shifting behind me, but I don't dare look back at them. I really dislike that I can only see three of the vampires now that they've surrounded us- the others are no doubt flanking the guys. I hope they weren't dumb enough to leave home without some kind of weapon, though if one of these shopfronts gets smashed up the glass could do at a pinch... I have no idea about Taylan's abilities, but I damn well hope that he learnt something from his friends at the Cooperative other than wrestling. It's about this point that I remember Tristan is injured, and thus not going to be mobile enough to make a run for it, even should such an unlikely opportunity arise.

Okay, glorious no-holds barred fight to the death in the middle of the CBD it is.

Okay, stay cool Bela. There's only five of them. Tristan can be trusted to handle at least one of those behind you, even injured. So even if Taylan proves to be fucking useless, then it's only four I've got to deal with.

Yeah, because you've totally dealt with only four before, haven't you Bela. Face it lady, you can do two at a time when you're feeling daring, but that was relatively young and stupid vamps, and they weren't expecting you to put up any kind of a fight. Shit, shit shit...

Oh, and of course, by the look of the clothes on the back of the drawling leader, he's probably a few centuries old. Velvet and lace is so 1600s. Someone should really mention to him that his look only counts as vintage if he's too young to remember when the “New World” was still called that.

That someone sure as hell isn't going to be me though- most of the younger vamps don't really care who they kill, so long as their blood supply doesn't run low. Just by the way this one is observing me, mentally weighing me like a butcher might a bovine source of prime beef, already considering where the best slices might be made to produce the finest cuts of meat. Only, normally a butcher would wait until the animal was dead before beginning their work. This vampire looks like the type that's become bored with merely enticing his victims- I've only heard of the “larders” that are whispered about, full to the brim with humans that are more than three quarters dead, eaten in portions so as to stop them from turning until the last possible moment...

Fuck I am so screwed.

“My, you are quite the specimens! I must applaud you, slayer for the... delectable company that you are keeping...” It seems that Velvet and Lace is feeling chatty. He's been monologuing for the last brief while or so, accompanied by occasional jeers from his cronies but I've been tuning him out, taking the time to figure out a way to get out of this alive, or at the very least, properly dead. The minions, vampires that can't be older than a few decades or so, keep licking their chops and pretending to snap at us. So far they haven't come within arm's reach, but it's only a matter of time... I just have to be ready- I'll only have split seconds to react when my chance to take some of them with me comes.

“Oh, by the way, slayer, I was wondering if any of your friends had mentioned crossing paths with a certain vampiress named Carlotta recently. Such a beautiful girl, so, vicious,” Velvet and Lace practically licks his lips, as though recalling some enjoyable meal...don't think about it. “She was a favourite of mine though I recently had to reprimand her for disobedience, and she hasn't been seen for quite a while. I would hate to think anything might have happened to her?” his tone makes the question clear. It's unusual for a vampire to ask a slayer about one of his minions. This Carlotta chick must have really impressed him before she upset him... no doubt somehow she managed to offend this one's honour or dignity, or some similarly archaic bullshit.

Carlotta, Carlotta, why does that name ring a... oh hell. That vampire chick, the stupid bint from the other night who couldn't control her own urges enough to even play with her food a little. Huh, however Velvet and lace reprimanded her must have had some element of starvation for her to be so clumsy... and come to think of it, this vamp doesn't seem to consider me able to off his squeeze.

And he's only calling me slayer- he's practically ignoring the other two- must think they're Aware but not a threat...

Put those two bits of information together...

I can work with that.

Time to indulge in a little vamp baiting. Now what did Taylan say Carlotta's master was named... must ask him later where he gets his information...who was it? Pepe? No, no, now I remember!

“Your name wouldn't happen to be Giuseppe perchance?” I ask him, ignoring the slight sinking feeling in my stomach as little voices in my head start screaming at me that this ploy could get me killed.

I'm probably already dead and just don't know it yet. This could be my chance to make sure it's worth something.

By the slightly surprised and yet thoroughly arrogant look on the vamp's face, I'll assume that's an affirmative on the name.

Good.

He's going to get suspicious in a moment and wonder why I know that information. If he figures out I killed his squeeze, then I'm not going to have time to retaliate. I need to redirect his attention.

“See, because, this guy Taylan over here,” I jerk my head in his direction, hoping Taylan is going to live to eventually forgive me for this,“he's been gloating about how he'd... what's the word you old-fashioned types use? Oh yeah, cuckholded some Giuseppe guy by sleeping with this Spanish bint who had a taste for vinyl before he put a stake...”

The next part goes fast enough that before I have a chance to finish my sentence, before Taylan has even had time to swear at me for “selling him out”, Giuseppe is staggering back from jumping right into my knife. Fuck I fucking love my reflexes! For a moment I worry that I missed the heart, but Giuseppe only has enough time to look up at me, shocked, before he explodes into dust that dissipates in the breeze..

Talk about being “blown away”, heheheh.

Teach him to underestimate me.

Focus Bela, use that adrenaline. You sure as hell are not out of the woods yet.

For a few moments, everyone is frozen. The minion vamps don't seem to understand that their master is dead, for good this time, for a moment or so.

Naturally that couldn't last.

One of them, some seventies remnant in a fringed jacket, dives right at me with a howl, screeching something about revenge and how he's going to kill some stupid bitch.

I assume he meant me, but since I stick him at the end of my heel with a spinning kick, guess I'm never going to be able to check.

Nothing says “fuck you” like a stiletto through the heart. After a sickening squelch I pull free, as the vampire starts to rapidly decay.

Two down. Three to go.

“I'll kill y-” A stabbing sound followed by a meaty thud.

Make that three down two to go. Yelling things out before it struck- now that's just plain stupid. Definitely too dumb or too arrogant to live- most vamps only make that mistake once with an experienced slayer, and he'd just seen how quick I am.

I turn in time to see Tristan pulling the end of his crutch out of a dead body, and Taylan almost simultaneously killing the remaining vamps with a move that makes me almost green with envy- I don't know where the fuck the sword came from, but suddenly he does this double figure eight and both the vamps are beheaded, with Taylan coming to rest in a fighting stance that looks well-trained as he waits for more foes.

They're all dead.

I survey the dessicated bodies, and note vaguely that of the five, only one turned completely to dust- the others seem relatively fresh. Looks like I picked it like a snotty nose- old Giuseppe was trying to show off to a couple of newbies.

Lucky us.

No seriously. If it hadn't been for Giuseppe being an arrogant fool and his cronies being complete idiots, then me and the two T-guys would have been screwed black, blue and probably undead.

I honestly don't know how in the sulphurous hairy armpits of the lord of hell we just survived that one. Honestly, not a fucking clue. We should be dead or turned- Gareth is going to ream me and Tristan out for not noticing those leeches coming up behind us... though that in itself was weird- since when are the vamps coming out that boldly? Isn't it more normal for them to let the prey come to them instead of looking for trouble?

“Bela! Bela!” Tristan interrupts my train of thought. Weird, the way he's yelling my name, you'd think he'd been calling it for a while. Huh, I'm sitting on the ground. When did that happen?

Tristan's hobbled over, vampire gunk staining the end of one of his crutches. Classy.

Why is everything feeling hazy?

“Bela! Answer me, damnit! Bela!”

Numbly I shake my head, trying to clear it, and notice that my hands are shaking. Apparently my body didn't appreciate that near- death experience and so has decided to go on strike until further notice, pending union action.

“Tristan, I think she's going into shock. Have you ever seen her do this before?”

“Are you kidding? It's Bela. I've seen her rack up the kills and notches on her bedpost without batting an eyelash. I hear she barely even flinched when her boyfriend got dragged off by a pack of vamps when she was still a teenager- she snagged Gareth's spare crossbow and got three of them, and was still swearing the air blue at the last two who vanished with her boy when Gareth caught up to her- I've never seen him as upset about being stuck in that chair as he was that night. But in anycase, I've never seen her like this.... oh shit, she didn't get bitten did she?”

“I don't think so. I can't see any abrasions. I think she stuck Giuseppe before he could lay a hand on her, let alone a fang. I don't see any blood, unless you count that crud on her heel.”

“Hardly. Come on Bela, snap out of it, we need you up and helping to get these out of the way before some Unaware genius decides to call the police on us.... shit Taylan, do you know any good ways to get a person out of shock? She's completely out of it- I doubt she can even hear us at the moment- I've seen it before, but never with Bela. Christ girl, you couldn't have picked a better time, could you.”

Vaguely, I feel a pair of arms going around me, lifting me up into a mockery of a standing position like I'm some sort of ragdoll. Part of me feels like I should struggle or something, but this part is practically drowned by the numbness that I feel. I don't mind the numbness. It feels comforting and safe, and so long as I'm numb, I won't have to worry about dealing with the fact that I nearly died three minutes ago and it was only pure luck that got me and my mates out. As I note the texture of a lump of blackened chewing gum stuck to the pavement, I can hear conversation going on next to me. I feel as though it's distant, about some other person.

Nothing feels real right now.

“We've got to get her out of here. Taylan, if I stay here and get Sam and some of his mates to clear this shit up, can you get her over to Wheels? Gareth will know what to do with her. God knows I wouldn't have a clue. Women.”

“Show some respect. She staked two vampires in less than half a minute back there and managed to put the rest of them enough on the back foot that our collective bacon was saved. That's nothing short of incredible, particularly since she's never had any sort of formal combat training. I know even you had your stint in the SAS, but by Gareth's estimate this woman is responsible for the deaths of maybe a thousand vampires throughout her career, and she's never even had a partner, unless you count her... relations with a couple of slayers.”

“You can say it Taylan. 'Fucking'. 'Unless you count her fucking a couple of slayers'. I should know, I was one of them, and damn. The things that girl can do with her tongue... it's small wonder she can distract the vamps so much they don't realise she's going in for the kill.”

“You're disgusting. How you can reconcile saying such grotesque things about a woman whose skill you boast about?”

I notice that for some reason I seem to be shaking more. Oh wait, that's not me, that's whatever is holding me up. Weird, it's like being in an earthquake. A tiny distant part of me notes that perhaps the thing holding me up is Taylan, and he is the one doing the shaking, perhaps from some repressed emotion. Anger?

The larger, more present part of me has no opinion about this. The distant part notes that perhaps this is a sign that something is wrong with me.

“Hey, if you don't like the truth, pretty boy, then I'm not going to be the one to baby you. That girl you're holding is a Mata Hari- she might be fighting the good fight, and getting results but she's still a whore.”

“You utter-”

“Don't confuse me telling the truth for me wanting to see anything bad happen to her. Don't get me wrong, Taylan, I don't want to see her getting hurt. Bitchiness aside, Bela's a decent sort- Gareth wouldn't keep her around if it were otherwise, and she's good company so long as you don't piss her off or have any qualms about her working her way through the roll-call of your associates. But before you get tangled up in that girl you have to know that she's not the relationship type. I've seen this happen before- well meaning guy... or girl for that matter, falls for that charm of hers then tries to get her to commit, to slow down and give up the crazy life. Don't deny it- I can see the beginnings of it in your eyes- admiration. If you don't watch out, you'll be just another notch on her bedpost with nothing to show for it but memories of a night of passion and a bad taste in your mouth. Shit, there's practically a support group going for people who get burned by Bela because they don't realise she's serious about the casual part of their relationship.”

There's a moment of silence. The distant part of me realises that this conversation is about Tristan warning Taylan away from me. That part is divided about how it feels about this. Perhaps he would be better off avoiding me- everything I touch seems to turn to shite lately.

The main part is still taken up by the numbness, and that part is having a hard time caring about anything.

“You're the founding member, aren't you Tristan.” Taylan sounds quite certain.

Tristan snorts. “Hardly. I might have been one of the earlier ones, but there were quite a few before I joined the list. I just do my best to warn people before they get sucked into that black hole that seems to rest between Bela's legs.”

“You really are quite a crude man.” Oh Taylan, so ridiculously (/adorably?) formal, murmurs the distant part of me. “I will have you know that I can take care of myself, and am not the type to get.., 'sucked in' to anything without much thought going into it first. I thank you for your concern, but now I really have to take Bela somewhere safe and quiet, and you need to call this Sam person.”

Dimly I notice him lifting me up, bridal style, carefully avoiding the knife that the distant part of me realises is still in my right hand, in some sort of deathgrip. Good to know I remember the important things, even when I'm feeling this detached from reality.

Then again, maybe that's part of why I'm holding my knife so tightly.

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Poor Bela, she really never does get a break, does she? In a bit of shock at the moment, which is hardly surprising, as she's been at the end of her tether for the last couple of chapters and then wham! An unexpected near-death experience. The description of Bela's symptoms psychological shock (not to be confused with the physiological sort) is loosely based on Wikipedia's description. If I've screwed up, someone let me know and I'll fix it- I'm pretty sure I've never been in shock before so I was going via second hand information and a couple of educated guesses here.

Oh, and a huge thankyou to my reviewer- thanks sweetie, I'm glad you're enjoying this.

Okay people, I'll try to get another chapter out soon, but in the meantime: loved it? Hated it? Got any questions?
Review!

Erisah