Pro-tip for Vampires #17: Other vampires want to kill you.

Remember that dream I told you about? The one I never ever have about an unknown assailant grabbing me by the legs and dragging me from the bed and across the floor before I could properly wake up? That one? Well, I was having it again.

Don't worry, this isn't a dream sequence. It's actually something much, much stupider. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you a play-by-play repeat of an earlier experience.

When the pillowcase was finally ripped from my head, I was not even slightly surprised to find the familiar faces of Tanya and Doreen sneering down at me. They'd already pulled this same attack once, so the element of surprise was gone. I had only seen them once in the past six months, and I still blame them for Jaime breaking up with me, so this wasn't the best of reunions. Especially since it was exactly like last time. In my opinion, if you're going to go around brutalizing sleeping men, you really ought to apply yourself to the task. Use some goddamn imagination.

After Tanya and Doreen were petrified by Claude's connections last time, I had honestly never expected to see them again. Julio had made some half-assed apology about some kind of fucked-up loyalty test, but I had been too fucked-up over Jaime to really give a shit.

And yet, for some reason, they had decided that terrorizing me again was a good idea.

"You know Claude is going to have to kick your asses now, right?" I asked, my nonchalant demeanor completely hiding the huge surge of relief I had felt when I realized my attackers were human.

"Don't bother looking for your friend," Tanya said. "He left ten minutes ago, so we got you all to ourselves."

"Lucky me," I replied.

"Julio sent us to offer you an invitation," Tanya smirked. "It's the kind of offer you're not allowed to say no to. He wants you to stash some product for a week."

"Please don't say no," Doreen said helpfully.

"Can I go with option B and tell you both to go fuck yourselves?" I said. "Julio and I already had this conversation two months ago. We have an agreement where we don't fuck with each other, and you assholes are supposed to pretend that I don't exist."

"Doreen, why don't you be a darling and hit him for me," Tanya said with a smile.

Doreen's fist came at my face, but time seemed to slow to a crawl, and it was as if her fist was slogging through Karo syrup. It was still coming at my face, just very, very slowly. I moved my head out of the path, really more as a means of getting a better view of this perplexing situation—

Doreen yelped as her fist smashed into the floor where my face had been only seconds earlier, and pull it back with a hiss, shaking her hand and wincing. Somewhere in the middle of all of that pain, she caught sight of something completely unexpected and turned to face it, her damaged hand seemingly forgotten for the moment. "Who the fuck are you guys?"

I can say that I half expected to hear Claude's voice, but that's just me lying to myself. Even looking back now, it's hard not to lie to myself. It's a gift.

"We have business with Mister Diego," a man's voice said, and terror sliced through me like cold daggers of doom. It was the kind of voice that you listened to and prayed that you would still be alive when it was done talking. Of course it had a British accent. "Why don't you take your friend into the bathroom and beat her to death for me?"

Doreen turned, and there was a moment where all I saw was this strange smile on her face as she turned and grabbed Tanya by the hair and punched her in the face, one, two, three times, knocking her the fuck out. That done, Doreen dragged her lover by the hair into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

I was only aware of that in the periphery, more as a side note if you will. At the time, I was scrambling to my feet, knowing only that I needed to escape, to get the fuck out of there, because they weren't coming for me anymore, they were here, the Gentlemen were here—

It is like a dream, when they come for you.

Nobody tells you that even though you will try to escape, that is completely futile. You will be consumed by the terror of what's coming. You can only watch—a passenger in your own skull, wishing that this is happening to someone else.

Even in my terror, I remember that there are three of them.

An immaculate and beautiful Italian leather shoe is the first thing I see of the leading vampire, but that is quickly followed by the figure of a tall, slim Chinese man, his face ageless, his pale blue vampire eyes burning in intensity and purpose. His lips are thin and cruel, but that is by design as if he is telegraphing to everyone that he has never laughed a day in his life and will murder them for trying to make him laugh. He wears a long black coat that I have seen once before in the alley a few nights before. His suit is most assuredly made of the finest of fabrics that befits a Gentleman of his stature.

It is a wonder that he is not drinking a cup of tea just to indicate to anyone watching just how much he is not to be fucked with.

A huge gorilla of a man, easily seven-feet tall with arms the approximate size of tree-trunks, follows immediately behind, carrying a chair from my kitchen in one oversized hand. There is no way someone that huge should look graceful; it's like watching someone in a fat suit, the ease of movement completely disconnected from his bulk. It isn't fat on this man, just pure massive comic-book style muscle. His blue eyes indicate that he is also a vampire, but holy shit, he is unbelievable, as a man or as a vampire.

I look for the third one, expecting to see his twitchy and restless form materialize behind the large vampire, but nothing of the sort happens. It is only after a moment that I freeze, realizing that I can feel hot breath on the back of my neck and hear the ragged breathing of the third vampire somehow impossibly and terrifyingly behind me. I know in that instant that the only right move to make is none at all, or I will find my guts spilled across the floor before I can react.

Do not turn. Do not pass GO.

I find myself praying fervently that this isn't the moment Claude chooses to return, because I'm sure they'd kill him too, just for fun

The tall Chinese man sits at the same instant that the Gorilla places the chair behind him. It is so smooth it is almost as if they were mentally in sync, the chair clopping down, the Gorilla stepping back, the button on the Chinese Gentleman's jacket coming undone as he adjusts himself. All perfectly timed to a private rhythm.

"My name is Mister Flynn," the Chinese man introduces himself. "I, along with my associates Mister Bryce," he indicates the huge Gorilla behind him, "and Mister Sinnel," a nod to the unseen lurking monster behind me, "are currently seeking the whereabouts of your friend, Louise. You will tell us where she is."

I realize then that I can hear the sounds of Doreen choking Tanya to death in the bathroom. Tanya is not giving up without a fight, but she is still losing. Neither of them have a choice in their fate, and it occurs to me that I also have no choice. The witty comeback that comes to my lips flees in terror.

"I don't know where she is," I reply, and I marvel that my voice isn't trembling. I don't even have time or the mental capacity to process that Louise was out there still alive somewhere. "The last time I saw her, she was running off to fight you guys."

Mr. Flynn frowns. "I see. That is indeed regretful," he says and then, raises one eyebrow, his gaze suddenly more intense. It is like he can see into my soul."Is there anything else you would like to tell us Mister Diego?"

I shake my head. "I really want to tell you to go fuck yourself, but that would be rude, and I don't want to be rude to you, because that would be bad," I reply, wanting to stop myself and completely unable to.

Mr. Flynn seems to sense my conundrum and waves my concerns away with a lazy flick of the wrist. "I wouldn't worry about it, Mister Diego. You cannot lie to me. I have that effect on people."

"So I can't lie to you?"

"Not even if you wanted to."

"I'm bored. Can I kill him now?" Mr. Bryce asks in the worst stage whisper ever. "I want to squish him like a little bug."

"Isn't it against the rules to kill another vampire?" I plead, not liking how Mr. Sinnel's breath is so damn close against my neck, hot and unbearable, and stinking like freshly devoured roadkill.

"You are an 'accidental' Mister Diego." Mr. Flynn says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Nobody wants you," Mr. Bryce agrees. He grins as he makes a fist, the knuckles cracking one by one as that enormous hand clenches shut.

The kitchen door bursts open, and a hooded woman rushes in, leaving the bright glare of sunlight behind. She is covered head to toe, her face deep in the shadows of the enormous fur-lined hood, the same hood that pulls back to reveal—

"Wazzup motherfuckers!" Beatrice says by way of greeting. It is immediately clear from the looks on the faces of Mr. Flynn and Mr. Bryce that Beatrice is neither expected or welcome.

"Beatrice," Mr Flynn says levelly and with great disapproval. "Just what do you think you're doing here?"

Beatrice holds up a paper bag with the McDonald's logo, and I can instantly smell the eggs and the sausage from the breakfast McGriddle inside.

"I'm bringing my boy here some much-needed food. He had a pretty busy morning you know. Gotta feed him and keep him strong." Beatrice pauses, and still smiling, says, "now as pleasant as it is to see you boys from the old firm, it always makes me nervous in a stabby kind of way. What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Come now, Beatrice, you know exactly why we're here," Mr. Bryce purrs, more dangerous than any predator.

"We were taking out the trash," Mr Bryce rumbles.

"Still alive there, Bobbikins?" Beatrice yells.

"Don't call me that!" I grumble.

"Does this mean that you have taken responsibility for Mister Diego, then?" Mr. Flynn says drily.

"Yup!" Beatrice says with a grin. "He's my bitch now. Claimed him earlier this morning." Beatrice throws the sandwich to me, and I utterly fail to catch it, you know since I'm still too terrified to move and all that. The sandwich collides with the side of my face and falls to the ground.

Mr Bryce's face creases in disappointment. "We still get to kill him though. Mr. Flynn promised."

Beatrice's face turns icy. "Anybody who touches my bitch is going to be eating his own guts for breakfast instead of a tasty fucking Egg McMuffin."

Mr. Flynn rises to his feet, much like an ultra-stern headmaster who has finally had enough of the petulant student, and Mr. Bryce grins expectantly.

"We have rules, Beatrice—"

"And according to rule four seven six, dash three B, subsection H, if a vampire were to claim an accidental within a twelve-hour period following said vampire's survival of sunrise immolation, the accidental becomes her bitch. I'm paraphrasing the last part for emphasis."

Mr Flynn tilts his head and sighs deeply.

"And I suppose Mister Diego has quite conveniently happened to have survived immolation in the sunlight this very morning?"

I raise my freshly healed arm high into the air, the baby soft skin still significantly paler than the rest of me.

"As a matter of fact, yes," I say a little too enthusiastically. "All the yeses."

Mr. Bryce snorts. "Enough talking," he rumbles, "time to die." He turns and runs at me faster than he ever should have been able to, his enormous hand reaching to squish my head, and I know that this is it, this is the moment where my brains are going to be squished out of my exploded skull. Maybe Mr. Sinnel will eat me with those terrible teeth of his, but I won't care, since I'll be dead. So there's an upside.

Mr. Bryce's dead blow stops inches from my face, and if I pee myself a little, that's none of your goddamn business. There is a brief moment where I glimpse the surprised look on Mr. Bryce's face, but then he is sailing through the air as if he has been struck by a Mack Truck. He collides with the bathroom door, ripping it off its hinges and tumbles as he hits the floor and then the wall. A terrified and bloodied Doreen shrieks incoherently against the far wall, traumatized beyond belief.

It takes me a moment to realize that it is Beatrice who has thrown Mr. Bryce. The same Beatrice who has rescued me and is apparently a fucking badass, not to mention a mastermind for making me go out into the sun, knowing full well what would happen. Holy shitballs!

Beatrice reaches into her coat and produces a katana, the sword sliding from its scabbard with a sharp sounding schnict! Mr. Flynn smirks, unimpressed. He raises a hand and gestures dismissively with his finger.

"Stand down, Mister Sinnel. This one is spoken for," he says as he glances toward the bathroom where Mr. Bryce clambers to his feet. "Mister Bryce, we are leaving. We have been outplayed on this occasion, something that we will not forget soon." He says the last words directly to Beatrice, the threat more than implied.

Beatrice raises her hands in mock surrender. "Oh, by the way, Harry wants to see ol' Bobbikins here. You remember Harry right? Harry, your boss, my boss, total asshole. That Harry." She screws her face up in fake concentration and then smiles broadly, ignoring the steely glare of death from Mr. Flynn. "I think maybe I should have led with that and avoided all the random violence. I mean you guys get so butthurt when you don't get your way..."

Mr. Bryce looks me dead in the eye, and his lip curls.

"Mister Bryce!" Mr. Flynn snaps and looks at Mr. Bryce, who freezes, caught in the act of raising an oversized fist at Doreen. "I implore you not to kill that woman."

Mr. Bryce angrily tears his eyes away from mine. "I never get to kill anything anymore," he sulks.

"Nevertheless, we are leaving," Mr. Flynn says. He nods curtly to me. "Good day, Mister Diego. For now."

I watch them leave. Two large black umbrellas have been leaning against the wall, and they are claimed by both men before they make their way out into the blazing sunlight that should have killed any ordinary movie vampire. The door swings shut behind them with a tortured creak.

Reality snaps into place—

Beatrice peered into the bathroom at the sobbing Doreen and then looked expectantly at me. "Well? You coming?"

"Is he still behind me? The other one?" I asked. I could no longer feel Mr. Sinnel's hot breath on my neck, but that doesn't mean anything. Not today.

"He's gone," she replied absently. Beatrice looked back to Doreen as I walked away from the open bedroom door as quickly as possible, still not daring to look behind.

"Hey," Beatrice said to Doreen. "I need you to look at me. Can you do that?"

Doreen wiped at her face and red eyes looked up. Her face relaxed, became more rested, at peace, as she gazed at the beautiful blonde woman in front of her.

"Leave her alone," I said, with a quick glance into the seemingly empty bedroom, looking for some sign as to where Mr. Sinnel has vanished to. The bedroom window is too small and too high-- I caught a glimpse of Tanya's dead face, eyes still open, bloodied and broken, surprised at the turn of events. What was freaky as shit was how Doreen seemed to have forgotten about her dead lover only a few feet away.

"You're pretty," Doreen murmured to Beatrice.

"I hope that means we can be friends," Beatrice said, and Doreen eagerly nodded. "Good, then I'm going to need you to take care of this body and clean yourself up. Can you do that for me?" Doreen nodded again.

"Anything you need," Doreen said with a smile. Her tears have dried, all emotion forgotten as she glanced down at Tanya, suddenly all business. She smiled coyly at Beatrice, blushing red. "Will I get to see you later? I'd really like that," Doreen said.

"Oh I'll find you; don't you worry about that."

"What did you do to her?" I asked Beatrice.

"Glammered the fuck out of her," Beatrice replied and winked at Doreen, who just blushed and continued to cleanup her lover's dead body. "Much better than what old Flynn did to her, if I say so myself, and believe me, I do say so myself. She will do anything I want now, and it's because she thinks she wants to."

My brain was still catching up to everything that had happened in the last ten minutes and was in fact still happening. The presence that the Gentlemen had left in the room made everything feel so empty and lifeless, it felt like my ears should be popping from the change in atmosphere. The one thing that was clear, and very real, was how much Beatrice had just saved my fucking life. And to think I had almost written her off as some crazy drunk.

"Did I mention before that you were a badass?" I asked her.

Beatrice grinned as if it was bloody obvious. She pulled the gigantic hood up on her coat, ready to take a walk in the sunlight.

"Come along Bobby. It's time to meet the vampire king."

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Soundtrack: Looks that Kill - Lauren Jenkins (Motley Crue cover)