#slyeye

The scent of blood filled the air as buckets of the stuff poured out of my left side. Victor ‘No Teeth’ Church laid in a heap on the ground, pinching the bridge of his knows in an attempt to stop the relentless bleeding. I would be lying if I said the wet crunchy sound of his nose breaking beneath my fist wasn’t the most satisfying thing I’ve ever heard. I would also be lying if I said that fighting him, the brief moments that our skin touched, wasn’t the most euphoric feeling I’ve ever experienced.

Josephine was yelling for a medic. I wanted to tell her that it would’ve been much worse if I hadn’t had an ace in the hole, a silver dagger in the back of my chaps, hidden from Victor.

“You’re really dyin’ to head over to bone orchard, aren’t ya?” She spat, holding my wound closed with her hands. “You shoulda backed off as soon as you saw him dig for his canon.”

I shoved her off. “Well, it’s not like I was in apple pie order, Josie. Next time he wants to try anything, weather it’s with a shooting iron or nothin’ but his two fists and a death wish, I’ll shut his big bazoo before he can say “Let’s have a shoot off.””

Just as I was starting to feel wheezy, ol’ Boone Cassidy, the one and only vamp medic for miles pulled up. He fixed me up real good, a couple stitches in my side to plug me up, and a lollypop just for not cryin’.

I was lying helpless in my hospital coffin, an IV full of blood plugged into my arm, when the heavy, antique door flew open, taking some dust with it.

Well, blow me down, it was Victor ‘No Teeth’ Church. A band-aid draped across his nose, his right arm in a sling.

I tried to sit up, but my body wasn’t having it. It nothing short of squealed when I breathed too hard.

“What in God’s name are you doing here?” I growled, my heart pounding just from his eyes on me.

“I’m here to acknowledge the corn,” he said, titling his cowboy hat down. “I didn’t start fightin’ with you because I felt like it, y’know.”

I gritted my teeth. “So, why? Why start barkin’ at the knot if you didn’t just feel like it.”

The world was full of people who tolerated Victor ‘No Teeth’ Church. His walk was smooth, stoic, captivating. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the way he slinked around, face covered by a shadow cast by the brim of his rabbit skin hat, carrying a toothpick loosely between his lips. People often compared him to a rattlesnake, reserved and calm until you disturb him. Then all hell breaks loose.

My furious staring was interrupted by a soft knock against my shoulder. A fist the size of a mango. I looked over to Josephine ‘the Deceiver’ Lockhart. She was leaning against the crypt’s damp wall, wearing a simple cow print skirt and a red checked shirt. She was chewing tobacco.

“Making the eyes at ol’ Vic, are ya partner?” She teased. “You should take one of those digital photographs, and make a little shrine.”

I resisted the urge to smack her. “You’re about as funny as tumbleweed, Josie. I can’t believe you haven’t tried to be one of those comedian city-lickers.”

“I can’t believe you haven’t tried to have a roll in the hay with ‘No Teeth’ yet,” she threw at me, her fangs peeking through her sinister grin. “And to think, you could’ve spent hours upon hours admiring him from up close.”

I sighed, and looked around the poorly illuminated crypt. Someone had the bright idea to bring firewood to light up the place a bit, and little Jimmy Beers had a heart attack. He’s a newbie vampire, the holes in his neck haven’t even healed yet. We sat him down and told him about all the dangers. Sunlight, garlic, crosses,…and stakes. When he saw the bundle of wood, he freaked out, said something about undercover spies, which made us all groan.

“Woah there, little foal. Settle down,” Dimitri, our certified handler of things none of us want to handle said. “We’re not spies. If we wanted to kill you, it would be easy enough. We wouldn’t need to go undercover!”

Which made him burst out into tears.

So the crypt was lit with a torch in each corner, offering some light to the scattered bones, goblets of blood, and the bean bag chairs in the middle of the room. The dark blue cobblestone offered a creepy vibe, even though Dimitri just suggested that we hang a pinata and try and rip it open with our little bat claws.

“Alistair?”

I looked lazily towards Josephine. “What?”

“Your boy’s looking at you.”

“Lord Byron? He’s here?”

“No, you idiot,” she said, shaking her head. “Victor. He’s looking at you.”

I looked up beneath my hat. She was right. Two tiny black holes were staring right at me, studying me carefully. I was terrified to breathe underneath his gaze, not wanting to give him a single thing he can make assumptions about.

“Reckon he’ll try somethin’?” She whispered.

“I got an apple peeler,” I muttered back, looking at the pocketknife in my boot. “If he tries anything, and don’t back down, I’ll send him into the otherworld.”

Victor lifted his arm and pointed a dagger right at me. My stomach squirmed, but I wasn’t sure if it was out of fear or utter adoration. He really was a good sort.

“You,” Victor spat, stepping out of the shadows, one hand on his holster. “You’ve been giving me a lookin’ all night. Is there something you wanna say?”

I shook my head. “Not at all, partner.”

Victor squinted, tilting his head to the side. He wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t have to be. “You even a vamp?” I said nothing, just flashed my fangs. He let out a low laugh. “You’re the type of kid I’d kill, you know that?”

I took half a step forward, looking up at him through my eyelashes. Victor’s fingers grazed his revolver. I gave him my best crooked smile.

“If you wanna try and kill me, that’s as fine as creamy gravy. You can try all you like.” I lowered my voice, hyper-aware of the equaliser at his side. “But you won’t be above snakes at the end of it. And I won’t be responsible for what happens to your lifeless body.”