Vampires Need Not...Apply? (3 page)

“Look, Bre—
Señorita
.” He turned and stared down at the attractive brunette wearing too much mascara and his favorite polo shirt. “I have work to do. If you need to cuddle, my cat Simon is around somewhere.”

Fury flickered in her brown eyes, and she stomped off, mumbling some profanity about Don Juans. “And my name is Belinda!” she screamed from somewhere inside the spacious apartment.

“Mujeres!”
He shook his head. Why did women always behave that way? So damned irrational and needy. It wasn’t as if he hid his true colors, either. In fact, he made it a rule to be transparent. “I don’t date anyone but my work, and she and I are happy together. Alone,” he’d say.

Couldn’t get much clearer than that. Yet they always came home with him. They always wanted more. They always left angry.

Well, too damned bad. He knew what mattered: cracking this code, saving his brother from a terrible fate, and if he were lucky…? He would finally meet this woman.

An image of her flashed in his mind. He saw himself in a dimly lit bedroom, the light from a fireplace flickering over the walls as he thrust himself between her thighs and stared at her obscured face.

A loud crackle suddenly came from the microscope.
What the…?

He bent his head and looked through the lens. The molecules shifted again, but this time they moved with such fluidity that he could swear it was a liquid, not solid.
“Qué diablos?”

The black crystals swirled on the plate and a tiny black hole opened up as if the center had disintegrated completely.

“
Caray.
It’s amazing,” he mumbled as an earsplitting snap cracked through the air. The tablet vibrated on the table and jumped as if hooked up to a lowrider suspension system.

“Coño!”
He lunged as it reached the edge and fell to the floor with a crash. An explosion threw him across the room, the wall breaking his momentum.

Antonio felt his body slide down the wall, the air sucked from his lungs. The room flickered from bright white to red to darkness. But he wasn’t unconscious. No. Not at all. The pain he felt was not a dream.

And he could not see.

January 3. Time: 6:00 p.m. Rec Room of Valley Hills Elementary, Sedona, Arizona

“Hi, everyone. I’m Ixtab. My friends call me… well, I don’t really have any friends, so it’s just Ixtab, I guess.”

“Hi, Ixtab,” said the middle-aged group of twelve men and women sitting on foldout chairs in a circle.

Ixtab stared through her black veil, down at her feet. “And it’s been twenty-two days since I caused the death of an innocent mortal.”

Applause.

“Thank you.” She took a deep breath. That had been easier than she’d thought. Normally, she wouldn’t stop to join in a wishy-washy human gathering, but she’d happened to be in the neighborhood on a job and suddenly felt the urge to share.

Of course, it was normal for Ixtab to go with the flow; that’s how the Universe directed her toward the humans most in need. Though sharing like this was a definite first, and she enjoyed it in some weird way, even though she’d compelled them all.

Ixtab sat and took a sip from her Styrofoam cup. The coffee was bitter and cold. Good. She didn’t deserve anything warm and comforting. “It hasn’t been easy steering clear of accident-prone men; though, I have been improving. But even with the extra effort, I still can’t avoid them completely. Last month, for example, I went to the fabric store—spring is coming, so I thought I’d make a new dress—pink linen or pale yellow cotton with white daisies.”

The crowd stared with perplexed faces.

Ixtab looked down at her shapeless, flowing black dress through her black lace veil. “Oh. I like to wear summery things underneath.” Why? That was a very long, emotional detour of a story.

The group nodded and murmured a collective “Aha.”

Ixtab sighed and then placed the cup at her flip-flop-clad feet. “Even though I waited just before closing time, and I swear there was no one left in the store besides the clerk, boom!” She clapped her hands together. “I rounded the corner near the pattern section, and the man ran right into me.”

What came next was always the hard part: watching them die after they touched her. Why? Simple. She was poison. Dark, bitter poison—most of the time, anyway.

“Go on,” urged one of women wearing a red sweater and name tag that said Anne. She had a bright, soothing smile. “What happened next?”

Ixtab held back the urge to cry. “Before you could say ‘Singer’ he shoved an entire McCall’s M6466—a really nice off-the-shoulder dress pattern—right down his throat.” She shook her head and sighed. “Such a shame. Such a shame. He was so good-looking, too. The accidental kills always are. Always hot. Always men. Why do you think that is?” she asked the group.

The crowd shook their heads. They didn’t have a clue, either.

“It’s not right. Why do I have to be so… deadly?” Ixtab reached under her veil and whisked away a tear. “Is it too much to ask? To touch a handsome man without killing him? I mean, really. Just once. Just one damned time, I’d like to bump into a nonevil guy and have him smile at me, maybe give me his number. But noooo. Their eyes haze over like a week-old fish, and then they find the nearest deadly object.”

Anne reached for Ixtab’s shoulder to comfort her, but then snapped her hand back. “It’s not your fault, Ixtab. And remember our first rule? Acceptance. We must accept the things we cannot change. And sometimes we can’t change the fate of others. Sometimes, their time is simply up.”

Ixtab shrank on the inside. That’s what Francisco used to tell her.
Don’t think about him. Don’t think about him. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this anymore.
Surely two hundred years of suffering for accidentally causing the death one’s soul mate had to be long enough. Wasn’t it?

Ixtab didn’t know, but she desperately wanted to move on. It was time. Maybe that’s why she was here tonight, trying to take a step forward.

Or maybe she was there for another reason: justice.

Ixtab cleared her throat. “The only thing that really keeps me going is that in between the accidents, I really do save lives.” With the right amount of concentration and a little help from the Universe, she had the ability to extract the darkness from a good soul. “Just this afternoon, for example, the Universe led me to a very sad girl—sweet as bag of kettle corn. She’d obviously been feeling down lately—lots of bad energy buildup around her heart—and thought it would be fun to try these pills her boyfriend gave her.” Ixtab opened her hand and showed everyone the pills. “She would’ve died and not gone on to fulfill her destiny of being a pediatric surgeon.”

Murmurs of approval erupted.

“See, Ixtab. There’s always a ray of sunshine to be found in every situation,” said the other woman to her left named Jess.

Ixtab smiled appreciatively at the two young ladies. “Yunno, I’m really glad I found you guys. It’s nice to have someone to talk to for once. And, yes. You’re right. There’s always a silver lining.” Ixtab got up, walked across the circle, and stood before a shabby looking man in his early thirties. His head was too small for his body and his bulging brown eyes matched the stain on his wrinkled T-shirt.

“What the hell are you looking at, freak?” he said.

“Jerry, right?” Ixtab’s heart tingled with giddiness.

He shifted in his chair. “Yeah. That’s right. Jerry’s the name.”

Ixtab slid off her veil.

The man jerked his head back and then flashed a lusty grin. “But hey, baby, you can call me anything you want.”

Ixtab leaned down, putting them at a breath’s distance, and stared into his pupils.
Ah, the eyes. They never lie.
Sometimes they showed an image of what one might become later in life, but this guy?
Nada.
The only thing to gaze upon was his bleak soul and the reflection of her own turquoise eyes.

“Baby, huh? Aren’t you sweet?” She smiled and placed her index finger on the tip of his chin. The man’s mouth dropped open and she popped the pills inside. He instantly convulsed and frothed from the mouth.

“How about I call
you
dead?” she seethed.

The man leaned forward, pulled a knife from his boot, and stabbed himself in the heart. He dropped to floor.

“That’ll teach you to sell drugs to children, you shit.” Ixtab turned toward the crowd who sat motionless in their chairs. “Wow. I really do feel better! Thanks for letting me crash your Road Ragers Anonymous meeting. Same time next week?”

The group nodded.

“Excellent.” Ixtab turned to leave. “Oh. Everyone will be kind to their fellow drivers from now on. You’ll also forget you ever saw me. And Jerry there? He flipped out and ended his life after taking his own smack. ’Kay?”

The crowd nodded with an absent gaze.

Yes, being the Goddess of Suicide wasn’t all shits and giggles—it was mostly shits—but it did have its moments.

An Hour Later, Kinich’s Estate

Ixtab looked at her pastel yellow watch and frowned. Dammit. She was ten minutes late to the gods’ summit meeting and would be left with cleanup duty. Again. She only hoped her brother Belch, God of Intoxication and Wine, hadn’t brought his keg this time. Or the donkey with the sombrero. And that he’d remembered to wear pants.

As Ixtab hurried through the modern, southwestern-style estate toward the summit room, she wondered what would become of the place. With its large skylights, indoor cactus gardens, and warm desert colors, Kinich, her brother, would likely want to move. But where would he go? He’d always loved the desert and the tropics.

Ixtab shivered imagining him living in a gloomy, depressing vampire lair, which made her wonder,
How can humans like vampires so much? They’re so… icky—except for Kinich, of course. Poor guy. But surely if humans knew how horribly morbid vampires were, they’d come to their senses!
Maybe she should start a list and publish it.

Vampires are icky, reason number one: they hate sunshine.

Reason number two: they’re not really alive.

Reason number three: they drink blood.

Yes, but many creatures live on blood: mosquitos, flees, Cimil’s unicorn…

Okay, skip that reason.

New reason number three: vampires are violent.

Speaking of violent, she paused outside the hand-carved double doors adorned with the Mayan sun on one side and the Mayan calendar on the other.
Phew, no screaming. Not yet, anyway.
Her brethren were such an unruly lot.

Ixtab pushed open the doors of the giant Mayan-esque meeting chamber decorated with hieroglyphs, a big screen TV, and fourteen thrones seated around a large stone slab table. Eight frowns immediately greeted her, the only smile coming from Penelope who, like usual, wore a plain tee and a pair of jeans with her dark hair pulled back into a sleek bun. “Hey, Suicide. We’re just getting started.”

“Ixtab. The name is Ixtab.” She curled her fists and took the thrown baring her Mayan glyph toward the middle of the table. Damn, she hated this chair. It depicted her with giant, pointy nipples, a noose around her neck, and decaying cheeks.

Stupid Mayans, nooses are so last baktun.
“And my nipples are cute and perky,” she grumbled.

“Um. Thanks for sharing?” Penelope looked around the room. “Anyone else like to share a description of their nipples before we get started?” Penelope shot a glance toward the end of the table. “It’s a rhetorical question, Belch. Put your hand down.”

He slowly removed his greasy palm from the air and wiped it down the front of his green Puma sweatshirt. As usual, he had his dark brown hair styled with a nonflattering bedhead look. “I wore pantsss today,” he slurred proudly.

“Actually,” Ixtab pointed out, “those are called underwear. And they’re not even men’s underwear.”

“But they
are
spectacular,” Mistress of Bees added. “Who knew they made thongsss in transparent plastic?”

As usual, Bees wore a large living hive atop her head and something beeish. Today, it was a tight yellow bodysuit that hugged the curves of her tall, athletic body.

Belch glanced around the chamber. “When did I leavvve the costume party?” He shrugged and then took a swig from his supersized Playboy tankard.

“Okeydokey, then.” Penelope picked up her official Ruler of the House of Gods writing tablet—now an iPad instead of stone since she’d insisted the gods start upgrading their technology—and took roll call. Present were Acan, God of Intoxication and Wine (aka Belch); Ah-Ciliz, God of Solar Eclipses (aka A.C.); Akna, Goddess of Fertility; Camaxtli, Goddess of the Hunt (aka Fate); Colel Cab, Mistress of Bees; K’ak and Zac Cimi, who had yet to find their special gifts, but were quite powerful physically and very popular with the ladies; and last but not least, the Goddess of Forgetfulness. Sadly, no one ever remembered her name and Penelope forgot to count her, as usual.

Missing were Chaam, the God of Male Virility; Kinich, ex–God of the Sun and recently turned vampire; Votan, God of Death and War (aka Guy); Cimil, the ex–Goddess of the Underworld; and the One No One Spoke Of, more affectionately referred to as Máax, which meant “Who?” in Mayan. Ixtab really missed the stubborn bastard, but what was done was done.

Penelope then moved to setting the agenda. Unanimous votes passed to discuss the news of this mysterious tablet and some physicist named Antonio Acero. The topic of Emma’s evil Maaskab grandmother would be postponed until later; her survival after Penelope’s Maaskab BBQ special was uncertain.

“I wish to discuss the fate of Kinich,” Zac said acrimoniously.

Penelope glared at him. “What’s to discuss?”

Ixtab felt the negative energy spike through the thinning ozone.
Here we go.
Everyone knew that Zac loved Penelope, and though she tried to hide it—no doubt because of her deep love for Kinich—Penelope felt some attraction for Zac, too. Like the other gods, Zac was tall, recklessly handsome (by mortal standards, not Ixtab standards), well built, and quite sharp. His only shortcoming was that he hadn’t discovered his gift. Yet. Although Ixtab and the others suspected he was the God of Love.