Page 11 of Unbound

Donna pulls down her hood and tilts her head to one side, blond hair swaying, subtly sticking her tits out. I look at my men and every single one of them is staring at her. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and I’ll need to have words. Even Stefano is mesmerized, and Matteo is grinning. He’s used to the show but still enjoying it.

“What about a blender?” she suggests, pouting a little. “We could stick his hands in it—no, wait, his dick! Could one of you big boys go find me a blender?”

Stefano raises his hand. “Yes, ma’am.”

I give him a look, and he at least has the grace to shrug in embarrassment.

“There’ll be no need for that,” Rosa says, watching the baby vamp shriveling in front of us, trying to crawl away. “Because Rip Van Winkle here is going to share.”

“My name’s not, uh, that. It’s Howie.”

She kicks him in the stomach so hard he flies back a few feet. “You were taking a nap when we found you, dickwad, and I’ll call you whatever I like. Now spill, or Donna gets her blender … anyway. Who knows? Tell me enough and I might feel generous. Maybe I’ll let you go after all, give you the chance to redeem yourself. I’m sure you could be a better man.”

He nods eagerly. There’s about as much chance of her letting him go as the fucking moon being made of cheese, but it does the trick. He tells us everything, and it’s a strange tale. One that has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

Chapter 7

Rosa

The vamp in front of me is so dumb I almost feel sorry for him. Almost but not quite. He could have been anything he wanted once he was transformed. He could have used his strength and his power for good or at least could have remained neutral. Instead, he turned into a killing machine, completely devoid of any empathy. Not all vampires, not all supernaturals, are like this, but the ones that are can cause devastating damage. That’s what the Vecchissime Seers are here for. To take out the trash.

I’m sure he has a backstory. I’m sure he has his reasons. Maybe he was scum before he was transformed, maybe he was turned by a monster who never taught him any better. But frankly I don’t give a shit about his bad childhood or his daddy issues. He’s too cruel and too stupid to be allowed to live. At least we can get some useful information out of him before I end him. Though I think I might have competition on that front. Matteo keeps looking from that body pile to Howie in a way that suggests he has his own views on the subject.

“How did you all meet?” I ask, keeping it simple to start with.

“Um, you know, on an app?”

I blink and try to hide my shock. “There’s an app for vamps?”

I turn back, look at Luca and the others. “Is that true? Why didn’t I know about that?”

“Yeah,” Stefano says, his voice its usual super-low gravel. “There are lots of apps for vamps. For everyone. Technology hasn’t passed us by.”

I shake my head in amazement. This from a centuries-old dude who’s part of an ancient Italian family? That until very recently was headed up by a Don who thought the cutting edge of science was using leeches? I’ll have to talk to Pietro about this. He’s a Maker and knows everything there is about software and tech. Fuck, he probably invented some of it.

“Okay. So. What kind of app was it? Like, dating? Hookups, those ones you use to meet people for sex in new towns, what?”

Luca glares at me, and I shrug. “What can I say? I was lonely before I met you.”

“No, no … like, social stuff,” Howie says. “It’s brand new. Real popular. Helps you, uh, meet like-minded folk to hang out with. Play games with.” My nostrils flare at the attempt to evade what I know to be true. That by “like-minded folk” he doesn’t mean a Mahjong group or a sewing circle. He means bringing together the lowest of the low, creatures bound by their sick desires and their heartless brutality. I clamp down on the urge to stake him right now. I don’t ask anymore about the app, because I will take his phone from him and let my brother loose on it.

“I see. What games?”

“You get points. For how many mice you catch. It’s all on the app.” Mice? Mice? I hear Matteo growl, and Luca lays a restraining hand on his arm.

“Right. So, where are your friends now?”

“I don’t know … and I can’t believe those fuckers left me behind!” This has only just occurred to him and maybe contributes to the speed with which he decides to give up their last location. An abandoned farmhouse a few miles away. They’ve been there for a week or so, making hunting trips to nearby towns and the few cities within driving distance. Totting up their scores in the damned game, competing with other nests, uploading pictures. Then eventually, they decided to up the ante and took out a whole town.

Stefano finds the farmhouse on his GPS, and we’re ready to go. I’m about to ask Matteo if he wants the pleasure of ending Rip Van Winkle’s pathetic life, but an old man steps forward. He’s human, and ancient, wearing a plaid robe over his PJs, but there’s a steely determination in his bright blue eyes that makes the others stand aside for him.

“Ma’am,” he says politely, nodding at me. “If you have a suitable weapon, I’d sure appreciate it if I could have the privilege of staking the shit out of this asshole.”

My eyes widen in surprise, and I glance at Luca, opening our mental connection. No clue, he says simply. He’s called Jeremy McGee. Immune to my charm.

He sounds so hurt when he says it, and it almost makes me laugh. I pass the old man a stake, and Matteo and Donna grab hold of Howie’s arms, spreading them wide, so his chest is exposed. He screams and yells and snivels, calling me nasty names that do nothing but warm my heart. If a monster like this thinks I’m a bitch, I must be doing something right.

Mr. McGee plunges that stake into Howie’s heart like a pro and jumps back at exactly the right angle to avoid getting covered in vamp dust as he disintegrates. Huh. Interesting. “What’s your story, sir?” I ask.