The Book of Death (Bourbon Kid 4)

it.’
    The Santa sat down on Rick’s chest,
pinning him to the floor. ‘You just said it was in the Reference section. I can
find it myself.’
    ‘Okay, fine. We’re good then,
right? You can leave me alone now?’ said Rick, hoping that the situation was
resolved.
    The Santa reached inside his red
jacket and pulled out a brown paper bag. From within it he pulled out a small
silver hip flask. He reached down with his spare hand and grabbed Rick’s nose,
pinning his nostrils shut and pushing his head down onto the floor. He put the
bottle to Rick’s lips. ‘Open wide,’ he said. ‘You’ll like this!’
    Rick could feel his lungs
gasping for oxygen. Having his nostrils held shut brought on a feeling of
helplessness and panic. All he could do was open his mouth and hope to suck in
some air. Instead, as he opened his mouth he watched on in terror as the heavy
set vampire in the Santa outfit held the bottle over his mouth and poured a
small amount of a warm green liquid down his throat. The liquid had a lemony
taste to it, not totally unpleasant. Certainly better than some of the piss
Rick had been served by Sanchez over the years.
    The Santa eventually stopped
pouring the green liquid into his mouth and eased his grip on his nose,
allowing him to suck in some air. It caused him to cough and choke a little and
he felt the taste of the liquid in his throat and nostrils.
    To his surprise the Santa stood
back up. It relieved the pressure on Rick’s chest for a moment. He took in a
deep breath, only to then feel his chest begin to tighten again. A warm
sensation came over him. It was a relatively pleasant feeling after the cold
wet weather outside and the suffocation incident of a few seconds earlier.
However, the warm sensation lasted only momentarily. It was followed by a
numbness that swept from his shoulders to his toes in a matter of seconds. He
tried to speak, only to find that his mouth and tongue didn’t move to say the
words he wanted, which would have been “What’s happening?”
    The Santa took off his red hat,
revealing a head of thick dark dirty greasy hair. Then he grinned his huge
vampire-fanged smile at the stricken coffee shop owner.
    ‘What you’re experiencing right
now is a form of paralysis brought on by what you just drank,’ he said. ‘I want
you to lie there and enjoy yourself while I go to work on you. I usually save
this stuff for kids, but I’m making you a special case. You’ll feel all the
pain as I drain your blood from your veins. You just won’t be able to react to
any of it. It should only take a few hours.’ He unleashed an evil smile, then
added, ‘Merry Christmas.’

 
    Twenty-Six

 
    Kacy awoke from a very deep
sleep. She was naked beneath the covers of a bed in a room she didn’t
recognise. She felt hung over too. As the recollection of the previous night’s
events came back to her she realised why. After leaving the Tapioca and the
Bourbon Kid, she and Dante had headed out in search of some fresh blood. They
had found it a lot harder to come by than either of them had expected. Neither
of them wanted to murder an innocent person and drink their blood, so after some
half-hearted attempts at attacking strangers they had headed back to the Swamp
empty handed. As it turned out they needn’t have worried because Vanity kept
fresh bottles of blood behind the bar in the pool hall.
    They had arrived at the pool
hall to find an after hours drinking club in full swing. Vanity had invited
along the other surviving members of the Shades clan and a few other hard
drinking vampires. He was a generous host so there were free bottles of a drink
named “Bloodweiser” available all night. It was a blood based drink designed to
look like Budweiser beer. It hadn’t been anywhere near as satisfying as the
blood of Archie Somers, but it had done enough to cure the craving that both
Dante and Kacy had.
    Kacy had found Vanity to be a
pretty reasonable guy and quite a charmer. The guy knew how to throw a party
and make the guests feel welcome and he didn’t come across as terrifying in the
way she had imagined a vampire to be. But then, she too was a vampire these
days and she didn’t consider herself to be a blood crazed lunatic either.
    Alongside her in bed, Dante was
still sleeping. She got up and showered in the en-suite bathroom without waking
him. He’d always been a late riser, particularly after a night of drinking, so
she was able to make as much noise as she liked