Archive for June 20, 2011

Universe 1 Vampire Psychologist 0

Posted in Fiction, Vampirony, writing with tags , , , , on June 20, 2011 by vampirony

The first response from the Universe I received after our little chat came as a knock on my door just an hour after sundown. I had slept all through the day and awoke groggy and drooling into my pillow. I raised my head from the pillow and watched as a paper was pushed under my door. It would’ve seemed strange at this hour had I been fully in my mind.

But as I was still woolgathering from dreams spanning the centuries, I just figured it might be worthwhile to check out the paper. So I crawled out of the covers, switched the bedside lamp on, and shuffled over to the door in my premium hotel slippers, curious to see the Universe’s response to my defiance.

There was a room service cart complete with a coffee service, an ample silver lidded tray, and an orange bubbly drink in a champagne flute. Confused, I checked down both directions of the hall, seeing no one. Looking back at the cart, I saw a card and picked it up.

“Miss Quinn,

For being one of our frequent stay guests, here’s breakfast on us!

The Management”

With that, I shrugged and wheeled the cart into my room.

I got comfortably seated on the bed and uncovered the tray. Pancakes with maple syrup, scrambled eggs dusted with cheese, heart slices of bacon, a fat sausage link, wheat bread lightly toasted, and country potatoes steamed and smelled delicious as I set the tray lid aside.

The Universe had decided to respond to defiance with…breakfast. I smiled just as my stomach growled. A hot version of the most important meal of the day seemed just the thing, even if it was almost 11 PM. I was about to spear the sausage link when I took note of the bubbly orange concoction.

I took up the champagne flute and sipped it.

The Universe toasted my defiant spirit with a Mimosa. I knocked it back, felt it burn all the way down to my empty stomach and resolved to relieve the discomfort with a mouthful of banana pancake. Which I followed with that speared sausage link, and proceeded to challenge the sin of gluttony with wild abandon.

It didn’t take but a few moments before I felt very sleepy. At first, I’d thought it was all those carbs hitting my stomach like anchors showered in fairy dusted powdered sugar but after my eyelids kept drooping, it became as clear as it could in my befuddled mind that the fairy dust was not of the naturally occurring dietary kind.

With the knowledge that dumb arrogance would be trumped by belligerent righteousness, I groaned as I toppled over in bed, my whole body going numb. My eyes spotted the empty champagne glass, as if in a spotlight of a cosmic boxing ring. In this corner, the Universe, aka The Management, intended to strike back with sugary carbohydrates and spiked Mimosas.

“Shit,” was all I could manage before I fell back asleep.

57 Channels and It’s So On

Posted in Fiction, Vampirony, writing with tags , , , on June 20, 2011 by vampirony

Just after sundown, Alex the night guard had sat behind his close circuit TVs in the Hyatt Regency’s security office watching while Morena talked to a tall, athletic-looking, fair-haired guy wearing shades in the lobby. He had smirked, wondering who Corey Hart was, wearing his sunglasses after dark. After a few minutes, Morena had quickly turned and exited, like she was in a hurry. A few moments later, the tall guy had made his out of the lobby towards the hotel bar only to come back about twenty minutes later, looking rather nervous and, well, shifty.

Alex had once been one of Morena’s students in her Personal Protection Pistol Class that she had taught at the Bellevue Gun Club. Honestly, he’d signed up because one of his D-Day Reenactment buddies had told him this total babe was the teacher. Within ten minutes of the class, she had a smart ass student flipped over on his back near to kissing her boots, while she spun and shot off a perfect round. Hot for Teacher had never been so true but she turned out to be a cool chick, great at what she did and appreciative of his former turn in the Service.

Not that they hung out. But once and awhile, he’d run into her at the range and she always said hello. Not interested but hello. That was fine with him. He appreciated the honesty and not being treated like a pariah. So much so, he liked to keep an eye out for her, go out of his way to walk her to her car when it was late, opening the door when she was hauling her rifle case in.

There was a rumor that she was not only ex-military, ex-Secret Service, but also that she was ex-CIA. Or maybe not so Ex. She kept a network that was for sure. He’d heard that bust up at her bar in Ballard a few days ago hadn’t even been written up because she still had friends in the Force. So it wouldn’t have been unheard of if she’d come and asked him for a favor.

What had been intriguing was that his supervisor at his security firm had beat her to it, telling him that she would be seeking him out tonight, even switching his work location to make sure he was working the Hyatt. Occasionally, his firm did fill in work when companies had temporary security needs or training.

This landed him perusing Hyatt security cameras and wondering who this fool in the shades was. That wouldn’t be a hint of jealousy, would it? Crazy. The dude had kissed Morena on the cheek before she stormed out.

Hmm, this guy’s bad news. Looks like he’s waiting for something.

He was about to get on his cell and call in when the phone rang. It was his supervisor.

“Hello?”

“Sidewinder, time to report in,” the voice said.

“Oh, yeah, there’s this jerk off loitering about. Is this your guy? You want me to send Rob and Brock down?”

“Was he with Morena?”

“Uh, yeah but she left–.”

“Then no. He’s not our guy. He’s fine. Brock’s got road duty and Rob, well, he’ll be busy later. Send up the gift.”

“The gift? Now? It’s not morning.”

“Now, Sidewinder.”

Alex shrugged. His supervisor also did reenactments but always for the Axis side. Still, the guy had a lot of street cred and had helped him out with shifts and things for awhile. He was one to be trusted.

“Ok, Ritterreiter, I’m on it.”

He hung up his cell phone and picked up the house phone. “Yeah? Hospitality?”