Read Online Scary Dead Things - 02 by Rick Gualtieri - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rick Gualtieri
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thought you'd never ask,” she said in that annoyingly chipper tone she adopted whenever she knew she was pissing me off. “You're going to China.”
“What!? Why the hell would I be going to China?”
“James' orders. He called and requested your presence.”
“Why?”
“Beats me. You can ask him that in person in about two days.”
“I don't even have a passport!” I protested.
“Wow, that's kind of sad,” she said. “Not surprising, mind you, just sad. Fortunately, you don't need one.”
“Why wouldn't I need a passport to get into China?” I asked. “Pretty sure they check those things there.”
“Because it's a long flight, and since commercial airlines tend to have rules against their passengers going up in smoke when sunlight hits them, I made some alternate arrangements.”
“Define alternate arrangements ,” I said.
“You, my friend,” she replied, putting even more chipperness into her voice, “have been booked into a first class coffin in the cargo hold.”
“WHAT!?” I screamed into the phone.
“You're welcome. By the way, you might want to pack a pillow.” *click*
Bitch!
A Sandwich with a Side of Chips
I'm sure there are some powers-that-be somewhere laughing at the irony. Here I was looking for a vacation away from the coven, and I was getting a vacation alright...all the way to fucking China. Why? No idea. If Sally knew, she wasn't very forthcoming, and it's not like I had James' cell phone number. Speaking of which, travel aside, running into James again produced some mixed feelings in me.
While I wasn't exactly sure of his true age, I was led to believe that James was in the neighborhood of six-hundred plus years old. Supposedly, he had been a contemporary of Marco Polo himself. That wasn't one-hundred percent relevant. What was, however, was that James was in charge of all vampire related business in the Northeast United States. All of the covens in that area, mine included, were answerable to him. He, in turn, answered directly to the Draculas, the coven of the thirteen most powerful vampires from whom all of our rules and regulations supposedly descended. I say supposedly because, aside from James, I had never met another vampire who had ever met directly with these Draculas. Still, it was probably wise not to make too many waves with regards to them. Why? I had seen James in action.
I am told that as vampires age, their powers increase as well. James was living proof of that. When he wanted to, he could move almost faster than the eye could follow. Strength wise, I had once seen him literally tear apart a small group of gang-bangers in less time than it takes for most of us to order a burrito at Taco Bell. I wasn't too proud to admit that he scared the bejeesus out of me; however, all of the Draculas were older than James, some supposedly much older. Therefore, it stood to reason that if a run-in with James could ruin one's day, crossing the Draculas could seriously fuck your shit up.
On the other hand, I owed the guy. If it weren't for him, my tenure as a vampire would have lasted all of five minutes. He was the one responsible for giving me a chance. He was also the one responsible for jumpstarting my reputation amongst my fellow vamps, which went a long way towards getting me to where I was now. Sure, he had also been the one to put the HBC vamps on my ass; however, from what I knew, that had all been some sort of mistake. Before he could cool down any heat between our covens, he had been called away by the Draculas. They had sent him all the way to China, where I was now destined to follow, for whatever reason.
Speaking of China, there was both a good and a bad to the whole thing. The good being that seven thousand miles between myself and the disgust I felt at my inability to speak my mind with Sheila sounded pretty decent to me. I seriously doubted anything in the Gansu
“What!? Why the hell would I be going to China?”
“James' orders. He called and requested your presence.”
“Why?”
“Beats me. You can ask him that in person in about two days.”
“I don't even have a passport!” I protested.
“Wow, that's kind of sad,” she said. “Not surprising, mind you, just sad. Fortunately, you don't need one.”
“Why wouldn't I need a passport to get into China?” I asked. “Pretty sure they check those things there.”
“Because it's a long flight, and since commercial airlines tend to have rules against their passengers going up in smoke when sunlight hits them, I made some alternate arrangements.”
“Define alternate arrangements ,” I said.
“You, my friend,” she replied, putting even more chipperness into her voice, “have been booked into a first class coffin in the cargo hold.”
“WHAT!?” I screamed into the phone.
“You're welcome. By the way, you might want to pack a pillow.” *click*
Bitch!
A Sandwich with a Side of Chips
I'm sure there are some powers-that-be somewhere laughing at the irony. Here I was looking for a vacation away from the coven, and I was getting a vacation alright...all the way to fucking China. Why? No idea. If Sally knew, she wasn't very forthcoming, and it's not like I had James' cell phone number. Speaking of which, travel aside, running into James again produced some mixed feelings in me.
While I wasn't exactly sure of his true age, I was led to believe that James was in the neighborhood of six-hundred plus years old. Supposedly, he had been a contemporary of Marco Polo himself. That wasn't one-hundred percent relevant. What was, however, was that James was in charge of all vampire related business in the Northeast United States. All of the covens in that area, mine included, were answerable to him. He, in turn, answered directly to the Draculas, the coven of the thirteen most powerful vampires from whom all of our rules and regulations supposedly descended. I say supposedly because, aside from James, I had never met another vampire who had ever met directly with these Draculas. Still, it was probably wise not to make too many waves with regards to them. Why? I had seen James in action.
I am told that as vampires age, their powers increase as well. James was living proof of that. When he wanted to, he could move almost faster than the eye could follow. Strength wise, I had once seen him literally tear apart a small group of gang-bangers in less time than it takes for most of us to order a burrito at Taco Bell. I wasn't too proud to admit that he scared the bejeesus out of me; however, all of the Draculas were older than James, some supposedly much older. Therefore, it stood to reason that if a run-in with James could ruin one's day, crossing the Draculas could seriously fuck your shit up.
On the other hand, I owed the guy. If it weren't for him, my tenure as a vampire would have lasted all of five minutes. He was the one responsible for giving me a chance. He was also the one responsible for jumpstarting my reputation amongst my fellow vamps, which went a long way towards getting me to where I was now. Sure, he had also been the one to put the HBC vamps on my ass; however, from what I knew, that had all been some sort of mistake. Before he could cool down any heat between our covens, he had been called away by the Draculas. They had sent him all the way to China, where I was now destined to follow, for whatever reason.
Speaking of China, there was both a good and a bad to the whole thing. The good being that seven thousand miles between myself and the disgust I felt at my inability to speak my mind with Sheila sounded pretty decent to me. I seriously doubted anything in the Gansu
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