Page 30 of Good Vampires Go to Heaven

“Four days!” He jackknifed up into a sitting position and about passed out from the pain. “What’s happening in the world? Jasper must be raising havoc somewhere at our escape. And, bloody hell, what about Michael and your gang?”

“First of all, we can’t get your TV to work, most of the time. The reception is horrible. If I see another Die Hard DVD, I’m going to puke. If that’s not enough, Patience has played the Mary Poppins movie ten times so far. Really, Zeb? Mary Poppins?”

He ignored her jibe and said, “You need to jiggle the antenna on the roof.”

“Beau has tried that. As for Michael and my gang, I don’t know. For some reason, my telecommunication skills have died.”

“Uh-oh! Not a good sign.”

“Once you’re better, I figure we should go to Transylvania and face the music, whatever it is.”

“All of us?” He arched his brows at her.

“I was thinking we could leave them here until we can scope out the mood back home, assuming they would be willing to wait here.”

“Dream on.”

“What do you suggest?”

“For now, hop on up to the bed so I can fang you.”

“I’m not sure I can do that in the daytime.”

“Why?” He tilted his head in question, then guessed, “You’ve never had sex in the daytime?”

“Hah! I’ve hardly ever had sex, period, let alone in the daytime.”

“Ah, then you have something new to look forward to.”

“I liked you better when you were asleep.”

“Yeah, but wait until I show you this new way of fanging. I put my mouth on your bare breast and pierce the edges of your areola with my fangs, at the same time laving and licking and sucking on your nipple. I’ve been told it’s a great way to increase the blood flow.” He batted his eyelashes at her. He had the longest eyelashes she’d ever seen on a man.

He could swear she just dampened her shorts, and maybe she’d even had a mini-orgasm, while she held onto the bedpost for support. But then, before she stomped off and slammed the bedroom door after her, she told him, “Why don’t you go fang yourself?”

Or she might have used that other F word.

Zeb smiled. He felt better already.

Another war to end all wars! . . .

Jasper was in a livid, demonic uproar. He was about to declare war unlike anything humankind had ever witnessed before. People would think the Apocalypse was coming by the time he was done.

It all started when he’d sent Beltane to bring his ermine cloak after he’d gotten a sudden chill from drinking too many iced Bloody Marys (real Marys’ blood, of course). And the cloak was nowhere to be found. The fact that the cloak was priceless was incidental to the fact that someone must have stolen it. It was not the kind of thing one misplaced.

But then, Jasper discovered other things that were missing. Like his prized prisoner and former friend, Zebulan the Hebrew, along with three witch Lucipires who’d helped some female vangel gain his prisoner’s release. A vangel in his house and he hadn’t even known it! He knew now what had happened because it was all caught on security cameras, much to his embarrassment.

The nerve! The audacity! The daring!

He seethed at the thought of the vangel witch who’d masterminded this plot. He had a special torture planned for her. She would wish she’d gone to Hell when she first died all those centuries ago. And she would turn into a Lucipire, that he guaranteed. Mayhap even his love slave. Hah! Hate slave would be more like it!

Then there was Zebulan. His former friend thought he’d been tortured before, but it was nothing compared to what was to come.

As for the three witch Lucipires . . . Beauregard, Patience, and Grimelda . . . who’d aided Zeb in his escape . . . there was no doubt Jasper would catch them. They were mere hordlings, no match for a high haakai like himself. They would regret ever leaving the comforts of Horror. Jasper planned to skin them alive and turn their flesh into purses. He’d sell them on eBay for a fortune. The first ever demon bags. They’d be hotter than Coach or Michael Kors or vintage Chanel.

He’d already killed Craven for failing to secure the prisoner. His body had then been cut into bite-size pieces and fed to rabid wolves out on the tundra. He probably should have kept him alive for endless torture but he’d been in such a rage at the time, he had to vent his fury some way.

“Are the commanders ready?” he asked Beltane, his young assistant.