Story Time: An Excerpt of Doom

As per usual, my day drug slower than a slug on ice. When lunch rolled around, I almost missed it because I was too absorbed. Losing myself in corporate claims had been a boon; I hadn’t thought about my brother all morning.

                

Until my manager knocked on the cubicle.

Snapping my head up, I glared at her. Karen smiled widely to show off perfect white teeth. In another life, I might have liked her. In another life, she might not have been a blood whore.

Everyone knew she liked to mingle in the lower tiers and share space with Vamps. It wasn’t just the blood, though; plenty of people sold it to make an extra buck. I could have forgiven her that.

Born and raised in Tier 2, she’d never known what it meant to struggle. From her chic bob cut to her designer shoes, she was every inch the rich bitch she appeared to be. But underneath that, she was just another upper tier whore that liked a cheap thrill.

What everyone else didn’t know, however, was her unfortunate status as a carrier. One of her Vamp playmates had a strain of chlamydia that dated back to the 1700s, something modern medicine couldn’t touch. She was and always would be…Chlamydia Karen. And it made my stomach roll to even be in the same vicinity of her.

“Are you coming, Amsel?"

It took a concentrated effort not to curl my lip. Forcing a smile, I shook my head. “I’ll catch up. I need to finish this claim.” My voice was even, honeyed—fake.

She didn’t take the hint. Coming forward, she hit the save function and jerked me out of my seat, sending the rolling chair careening against the wall of the cubicle. “Come on. My treat!”

My skin crawled at her touch. A gag that masqueraded as a laugh poured from my mouth. I pulled away from her, though kept in step. I couldn’t be rude to this woman without fear of putting my job in jeopardy.

“Where are we going?” I prayed it wasn’t a buffet. I didn’t want her hands anywhere near something I intended to put in my mouth.

She waved a dismissive hand, escorting me to the elevator and outside the building. Her driver was at the curb, door open as he waited for us to climb into the back seat. “There’s a new sushi place a few blocks from here everyone has been raving about. It’s time for your review, so I thought we could kill two birds with one stone.”

Well, sushi was made to order, at least. I still wasn’t happy about the informal setting of my review. This spelled “you’re fired” in big, bold letters.

“Don’t you usually do reviews…at the office…?” I was fishing and it was obvious.

Karen just smiled again. “Relax,” she instructed, her voice flat. “We’ll talk over lunch.”

My heart pounded against my rib cage like it would try to escape. When that didn’t work, it fell into my gut and tried to force its way out through my stomach. In all, I felt ill.

If I lost this job, I wouldn’t have the income to pay back the interest on my loan and keep up rent on the apartment. My second job covered the principle, but it wasn’t enough for everything. I didn’t want to resort to…other means.

Swallowing down my misgivings and the grapefruit sized lump in my throat, I tried to maintain the cool veneer as we arrived at the restaurant. It was upscale, neons tasteful in cursive. Karen led the way inside and we took a booth against a wall…well away from anyone that might hear what she wanted to discuss.

After we ordered, she set aside her menu and gave me a level look. “I know about your brother.”

That…wasn’t what I expected. It must have shown in the wide-eyed stare, the furrowing of my brow, or maybe the gross, open-mouth gape.

Karen just laughed.

“What…?” I stopped myself, leaning back as I glanced away and got myself under control. There was no telling what she knew about my brother. I wasn’t going to supply her with more gossip fodder. “My brother is dead.”

Tsking, she put her elbows on the table, hands clenching into a double fist beneath her chin. “Do you really believe that?”

I glanced back at her just in time to catch the censoring eyebrow she raised. That was it; I couldn’t take any more of this. Job or not, nothing was worth letting Chlamydia Karen condescend to me. “I know what it means to be a Vamp, you bitch. He’s dead. And even if that’s only a technicality, he’s dead to me.”

It was true. Part of joining the Exsanguiners meant giving up his life in tier 3, any rights he had to ever come out of the darkness again. It meant he had to give up family, too. He had chosen those fucking leeches over me. Bitter didn’t begin to cover how I felt.

Unable to hold back the vitriol, I glared at her and continued my tirade. “You don’t know anything, Karen. So whatever this little ‘friendly’ lunch is about, I’m over it.”

When I scooted to the edge of the booth, she muttered, “And here I thought you’d want insider info about how he’s doing.”

My ass hit the seat hard enough to bruise my tailbone. Slowly, I craned my neck, my eyes wide as I pinned her with a bewildered stare. I felt like my chest might cave in. “You—”

“I told you,” she interrupted, “that I know about Ben.” Inclining her head, she dropped her hands and raised that perfectly sculpted eyebrow again. “Should I call my driver, or would you like to discuss this?”

Edging back into the booth, I cleared my throat. I felt like the biggest ass on record. Even if Karen was disgusting, Benni’s choice wasn’t her fault. I tried to work up an apology, but she didn’t give me the chance.

“I find it ironic that you hate Vampires so much.” Her tone was inquisitive without being derogatory, something I had yet to master. Flicking her eyes up to meet mine, she smiled. “Everything considered, I thought you’d be grateful.”

My stomach rocketed toward my throat as my mouth went dry. All of my energy drained out of suddenly numb fingertips. I was grateful for that; if I’d had even an ounce of nerve control, I would have launched over the table and strangled her.

“How…” I had to clear my throat and start again when the word emerged as a breathy croak. “How can you say that? They took him from me.”

The conversation paused when the waitress brought us a porcelain flask of sake. Karen took the liberty of pouring us a drink. Using a knuckle, she slid one of the tiny cups over to me. I downed it without hesitation, barely tasting the rice wine as it slid down my throat. All I felt was the heat. It burned in counterpoint to my anger.

“I say ironic because the Exsanguiners were only a doorway. In opening it, Ben has found a labyrinth. And once he navigates his way through, he will have the power to strike back at the one who took”—she shifted and a metallic clang rang out—“this.”

Had she just…? I looked down and fairly shook with rage when I saw her peep-toe pump hovering near my leg. She had. That bitch had kicked my prosthetic!

My head snapped up so fast my neck threatened to snap. “If you ever touch me again, I will end you,” I whispered. “Now tell me what you know so I can get the fuck out of here.”

Chuckling, she poured another round of sake. Despite the threat, she didn’t appear fazed in the least. Rather, it seemed to invigorate her.

“Have another drink, Amsel.” She flicked a lock of black hair from her face, raising the porcelain cup for a sip. “You and I should really have a better relationship at this point.” Tipping the glass back, she drained the rest of the rice wine and smirked. “I am the only link you have to your brother.”

Though I wanted to hurt her, I forced the desire into submission. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I exhaled, I felt ready to face her again, but I refused to open my mouth. I knew it would be nothing but a spray of acidic words. That was getting us nowhere.

When I remained silent, she shrugged and adjusted herself more comfortably on the cushioned bench. “Very well. As I was saying, Ben did this for you. Your attacker is released… When was it?” Her brow furrowed.

“Next week.”

“Ah.” She tilted her head up as if the information was enlightening somehow, as if she didn’t already know the answer. “That’s right. Next week. And, as we all know, once a Were goes feral, there is no therapy in the world to scratch that itch. She’ll be free to attack someone else. Perhaps…” Sighing, she put on a mask of emotional distress. “Well, you were the one that put her behind bars. That would be horrible, of course, but one never can tell what those pesky furballs will do.”

I couldn’t wrap my mind around this. Benni had never hinted his time with the Vamps had anything to do with me. It always seemed like a rebellious teenager thing. I mean, everybody had that phase, right?

It got even harder to mesh the ideas together when I thought about my brother as he’d been. This was the kid that ran around the house screaming, “Kunta Kinte,” when his father tried to make him answer to Benito. He wasn’t the type that infiltrated a Vampire gang just to get revenge.