Pro-tip for vampires #111: Keep your enemies close so you can find new interesting ways to kill them.

Five minutes later, I found myself following Lady Vera like a lovesick puppy into an elevator at the far end of the morgue. I had been trying to find a way to break it to her that I probably wasn't the right guy for the job she had in mind, but my thoughts had been interrupted by the uncomfortable boner I got everytime the woman so much as breathed, smiled or looked at me. I did try to focus on images of Sebastien suffering in various scenarios—me shaving his head, me kissing Jaime while he sobbed uncontrollably, or even better, me ripping his fucking head off– but it was no use. It was instant boner time, all the time with Lady Vera.

Just my luck, right?

There was also this icky thing about a funeral that made me uncomfortable seven ways from Sunday. Like seriously? What could possibly be gained from something that was all ceremony and no reward? Sure I wanted to impress Lady Vera, I mean she was a real Countess and everything, but I had my limits. I just had to get it through to my stupid boner. Luckily the elevator was enormous—like the hull of an alien spaceship, just like the rest of Lady Vera's House of Horrors, so I retreated to a corner, pretending to be interested in the shiny glass control panel next to the back doors, and adjusted my crotch. Then I spoke up.

"Can't we just skip the funeral?" I blurted out before I could change my mind and act rationally and not piss off the powerful vampire. I recklessly continued, trying not to be deterred by the withering stare from Lady Vera. "I've heard it's bad luck to have a funeral on whatever today is, and more bad luck is the last thing I need. What I need is to go kill that lustrous-haired girlfriend-stealing douchebag Sebastien!"

There was silence in the elevator, the kind of silence that gets awkward pretty quickly after you've just said something monumentally stupid and are currently avoiding looking at the person who you had no doubt pissed off.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lady Vera reach out to push a button.

BZZZT! The elevator halted in its upward motion, and Lady Vera turned to face me, deadly silent.

She steepled her fingertips and glared at me over them for a moment, one immaculately-arched eyebrow communicating that I needed to shut the fuck up.

"Let me assure you, Roberto, you want this funeral," Lady Vera said. "There are whole libraries of tales based on the poor vampires who neglected this most important rite. Those who spurn the ritual have the most dreadful luck that you wouldn't wish upon your worst enemies," Lady Vera said darkly, and I could swear the lights flickered and dimmed as she spoke. "For example, do you recall a vampire named Vlad who was killed after being turned? He didn't have a funeral, and do you know what happened to him?"

I hesitated then gave my best guess. "Had a ton of books written about him, several movies, and eventually got turned into a glitter doll in a worldwide franchise that made a ton of money?"

"I would focus more on the part where he was impaled on his own blades and subsequently made into the villain in over three hundred movies, without receiving a single cent in royalties," she said with a shudder. "The more negative aspects. I must admit, though, I had forgotten about the glitter."

"Am I missing the part where this is a cautionary tale?"

Lady Vera sighed deeply and pushed the elevator button. Machinery clanked and hummed as the elevator continued its slow rise upward.

"Are you so impatient to have your revenge on Sebastien, Roberto?" Lady Vera asked. "Do you think the funeral is a waste of time?"

I nodded numbly, not knowing what else to say. "Lady Vera, all due respect, but Sebastien is with Jaime-- my ex-girlfriend. I have to do something."

"Dear boy, you've been dead for seven days. Sebastien can wait twenty minutes more. These rites have importance among our kind, and they offer a measure of protection. There are some of us who believe that until you have risen from the grave, you are not considered to be a real vampire."

The elevator dinged as we reached our destination, and the doors slid open.

"You know I'm an Accidental right?" I blustered. "Accidentals don't, you know, deserve funerals, right? And it's not like I want a funeral--"

"What? No funeral? That's some serious bad luck!" A very familiar voice rumbled.

I whirled around to the wide open back doors of the elevator. The world moved in slow motion as my blood ran cold with terror. Standing outside of the elevator in what appeared to be a loading dock, were the vampires that even monsters were scared of: the trio known as the Gentlemen. I'm not too embarrassed to say that I almost peed my brand new pants. That's the kind of effect the Gentlemen have, and you would have done the same thing, so don't even try to pretend, okay?

In case you forgot who the Gentlemen were (and I don't know how that's possible), I'm going to give you a refresher. The big Gorilla in the suit was Mr. Bryce, the main muscle of the trio. He scared the shit out of me with his seemingly mindless brutality, but to be honest, Mr. Flynn scared me even more. He was the leader of the group in as much as they actually had a leader. A tall, thin Chinese man in a suit that always looked flawless, he was the perfect vampire, pale, dark-haired with burning blue eyes. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had a castle somewhere with a dungeon just for torturing anyone he didn't like; ie: everyone. The twitchy meth-head looking member of the group was Mr. Sinnel. Dude creeped me the fuck out due to his ability to turn up in places he couldn't possibly be. Scared of something breathing heavy in the dark? It's probably Mr. Sinnel.

Did I mention that they hated Accidentals? And me?

Yeah: I ran for it. Or at least I tried to. I had a decent head start and the element of surprise. I even had a whole technique that was perfect for running away from large men who wanted to kill me. It involved me pushing myself backward like so, getting a good speed and-- HOLY SHIT, MR. BRYCE WAS FAST! For such a large man, he moved with a certain fluidity that should have only been possible for cobras deciding to casually break the sound barrier. I saw him move forward impossibly fast and I turned--

What felt like a very small semi-truck slammed into my back, and I flew through the air like a ragdoll, my feet still feebly trying to push me into the running position. The ground rushed past below, a blur of carpet and I had the crazy thought that this is not what flying was supposed to feel like at all. I collided with the floor a moment later, and rolled a couple of times ass over head before tumbling to a very painful stop.

"Ouch," I managed to gasp, the act of breathing suddenly becoming an exercise in how much pain I could take.

"Bobbikins!" a familiar voice said from above, and then a face popped into view, her long platinum blonde hair stunning in the light, her pale blue vampire eyes dancing with mischief.

"Help!" I rasped, my arm flopping over my head in a failed effort at pointing.

Beatrice glanced up lazily and shrugged. "Oh that's just Mister Bryce," she said casually, then added in a stage whisper, "I think he's looking for you."

I tried to roll over and caught a glimpse of Mr. Bryce as he walked down the hallway towards me, his pace steady and inexorable. He was the inevitable, and I was quite simply fucked.

If I hadn't been about to die, I would have admired the gorgeous thirty-foot high ceiling in the hall, the architecture a stark contrast with the spaceship level technology down below. There had been all metal and glass, and here was all marble, richly textured wood and fucking expensive looking oil paintings in the type of gaudy frames you only see in museums and churches. The ceiling even had a fucking mural, like Sistene Chapel level. All pointing to the fact that Lady Veara was really fucking rich, maybe even richer than Harry de Biers III himself. The bringing vampires back from death business must pay very well.

Since I was about to die, I took in the hall in a glance and focused on the fucking monster who was coming to fucking murder me.

"You're not going to help me?" I asked Beatrice, incredulous at her lack of urgency or movement. She had taken on Mr. Bryce before, and had easily defeated him, so it was a good thing she was on my side, right?

"Nope," Beatrice replied, and glibly popped some gum into her mouth. "You got this."

Fuck!

Somehow, I managed to get to my very unsteady feet, only stumbling once as I watched the behemoth close in on me, clearly intent on killing the hell out of me once and for all. Fucking hell, I had just come back to life, and he was going to end it, just like that?

Fuck that!

The rage built in me at the unfairness of it all, the utter futility of everything, and I gritted my teeth, my hands shaking from the sudden rush of adrenaline. I flicked my tongue to the spot oh the roof of my mouth just behind my teeth and felt my top canines slide into place. An extra boost of adrenaline ripped through me like the finest cocaine, and my stance steadied.

I raised my fists, ready to fight.

Mr. Bryce stopped in front of me and stuck out his oversized hand as if to shake.

I stared at the hand and then at Mr. Bryce's face, then back at the hand. Was this some kind weird ploy?

"Lady Vera wants me to apologize to you," Mr. Bryce mumbled like a petulant little boy who had been spanked only moments ago and was determined to not show how hurt he was. "I'm not supposed to try to kill you no more, and I'm sorry I hit you," he continued, screwing up his mouth as if the words tasted bad.

"I'm sorry you hit me too," I said, completely truthfully. "Did she say if it was okay if I hit you back? I'd have to go find a truck big enough that you'd actually feel it--"

Mr. Bryce looked at me from lowered eyes, a decidedly evil grin splitting his face. "I'd like to see you try."

"That will be enough of that," Lady Vera announced as she joined us. "Mister Bryce, I believe you have business to attend with your associates. Do not let me detain you further."

Mr Bryce hesitated, and from that angle I could see the left side of his head was bloody, a jagged knot of flesh all that remained of his ear.

"May I have my ear back now?" Mr. Bryce asked, and was he actually embarrassed? Yes I think he was.

"Oh, yes, I gave that to Mister Flynn," Lady Vera said dismissively, and turned to me and Beatrice, ignoring Mr. Bryce's bow of respect before he trundled away from us back to the other end of the gigantic hallway. Lady Vera smiled and raised her hands magnanimously.

I looked at Beatrice in astonishment and she shrugged. "No fighting in the house," she said by way of explanation. "You gotta respect the rules or you're disrespecting the Countess."

"I do apologize for that bit of nastiness, dear Roberto," Lady Vera said. "What incredibly bad timing. One could almost say it was bad luck." She turned to Beatrice and feigned shock. "Would you believe our dear Roberto doesn't want a funeral?"

Beatrice stopped chewing and looked at me as if I were the biggest idiot she had ever seen. "You have to have a funeral Bobbikins! You'll have the worst bad luck if you don't!"

"Fine!" I said finally giving in. "I'll do it!" I glanced back through the heavy wooden doors as they effortlessly swung shut. I caught a glimpse of the Gentlemen at the far end of the hall, and they were watching us. Maybe Lady Vera did have a point about the bad luck after all. Running into the Gentlemen like that had been the exact opposite of good luck.

"Excellent!" Lady Vera said brightly and led the way quickly down the corridor.

"Beatrice?" I asked the first question that popped into my head: "Why do you have two eyeballs?"

"Oh, it always grows back," Beatrice said with a grin. "I decided to let it stay this time."

I nodded, hoping that my face wasn't showing how much that statement freaked me the fuck out. A lot had happened in the past ten minutes and this wasn't even the strangest thing.

"I really don't want to do this," I whispered to Beatrice.

"Money," Beatrice said slyly sliding her arm into mine and matching her step so we were in sync. It felt natural and easy and made me a little uncomfortable. I tried to focus on her face. She had said the magic word.

"You have my full attention."

"Do you know what the price tag is on all of the services you've received in the past week? Might be somewhere north of a hundred thousand at this point."

What the fuck? My stomach dropped as I realized I had been ambushed by Beatrice. I developed an instant eye twitch at the mention of that amount of money. Money that Beatrice was saying that I now owed. Money that I could never ever come up within a hundred lifetimes. My heart didn't speed up: it slowed the fuck down.

"Last I checked," Beatrice continued, pressing her point, "reconstruction surgery was pricey and then there's all the drugs, the advanced medical tech in the pods and everything else! Damn, just saying it sounds expensive!"

"Just shoot me now and get it over with," I groaned.

Beatrice leaned in close, savouring the moment. "Of course, if you happened to have a tall, beautiful sponsor who happened to be filthy rich, things might be different," she said, batting her eyelashes dramatically. "Oh wait: that's me! I could make all of this go away, and all you have to do is get in the fucking coffin and don't be a dick. You'll upset Lady Vera and I don't like to see Lady Vera upset."

I latched on to the one thing that made sense. "Are you saying that you're actually going to train me?" I asked doubtfully. "You ran out on me last time."

Beatrice rolled her eyes. "Pshaw! That wasn't even me anyway. Some bitch with one eye and an eyepatch." She smiled reassuringly. "Sure I'll train you, but first you have to play nice, okay?"

"All I have to do is get in the coffin?" I asked.

So yeah: that's how I ended up in a very official looking chapel, looking at my own coffin. It was next to the altar, almost buried in a huge mound of flowers, and of course it was very expensive looking, all polished brass and rich mahoganies or whatever it was made of. Perfect for padding out the already expensive bill. It was also very empty, clearly waiting for someone (me) to take up residence. A large poster with a selfie from my phone was on the easel next to the coffin. There were a couple of people in formal clothing scattered among the pews.

"I don't know these people," I pointed out helpfully.

"Of course not. They're rentals. So much more convenient than finding your real friends. Besides, real emotions are so difficult to deal with. These friends will do very nicely, and for a half an hour they'll be your very best friends in the whole world. Only the best for you, darling."

"Plus, I'm here," Beatrice pointed out.

"Great, just great," I murmured and allowed Lady Vera to hustle me down the aisle like some macabre not-wedding. My rented friends, a couple of girls and three guys who looked like they came right out of an Abercrombie commercial, started to sniffle on cue. I had to admit, at least my friends were pretty. The organist struck up a tune, and Lady Vera escorted me to the casket.

"Now, into the nice coffin, you go."

I relaxed and went with it, settling into the satin-lined casket as best as I could, and yes, it was really fucking bizarre. Two attendants appeared, and Lady Vera ordered them around like the general she was, getting them to fix the flowers and making sure everything was perfect. I grinned and bore it, wondering how the hell anyone had managed to talk me into the macabre ceremony. Oh yeah, I remember: money and threats and something about bad luck.

It was the shortest ceremony in the history of ever.

A priest appeared out of nowhere, his blue vampire eyes a dead giveaway that he might not be a rental.

"You were dead, now you're not, be blessed under God, in blood we share and welcome back."

"In blood we share," the small congregation repeated, and a chill ran through me from head to toe as I remembered it was the translation of the latin motto on the wall downstairs. I have no idea why it affected me in that way, okay?

The priest turned to me and held out a hand. "Need a hand outta there son?"

I took his offered hand and pulled myself out of the coffin. As I did, I noticed Lady Vera crying, actually crying, as if this was all for real. Beatrice caught my eye and shrugged helplessly. The rented friends were already filing out.

"You're a vampire now son," the Priest said, still gripping my hand tightly. "In blood we share."

"In blood we share," I repeated, and that got an approving smile from the Priest.

Lady Vera came over and slipped her arm through mine, dismissing the priest with a smile and leading me through the chapel in an easy movement.

"There's no such thing as bad luck you know," Lady Vera mused, "but there is a power in ritual. Words shape reality. They have the ability to make you see yourself as something different." She looked at me with a sad smile. "You see yourself as human, Bob, but you are so much more."

I looked desperately at Beatrice who trailed a few feet behind us, then back at Lady Vera. We had reached the doors of this palace, held open by a waiting staff member. Snow swirled gently outside, illuminated by the glow of exterior lights that showcased the extensive gardens and the long driveway. There was a black SUV waiting at the bottom of the steps, steam rising from the muffler as the car sat idling. I felt a slight panic that I was about to be thrown out so quickly, then suspicious of Lady Vera's empowering speech.

"Please don't tell me I'm the chosen one," I said to the Countess, "because I've seen that movie--"

A pair of staff members appeared bearing scarves and coats for me and Beatrice. I shrugged my coat on, a stylish wool coat that was a subtle reminder that the vampires around me were stupidly rich and used to the fine things in life.

"Oh please!" Lady Vera snorted with laughter. "Chosen ones are a dime a dozen and all they want to do is save the world. All I require of you is to be you." She smiled and turned to Beatrice. "Take care of this one, Beatrice."

And just like that, we were out of the presence of the Countess, watching the door close.

"So what now?" I asked the inevitable question.

Beatrice turned her stunning smile on me.

"We go to meet the rest of the family of course!"

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