You Suck: A Love Story

couldn’t ask. He was staring at Abby’s neck, then looked away when she appeared to notice.
    “Where’s Jody?”
    “She’ll be here soon,” Abby said. “She sent us back to find you. We called but your cell wasn’t on.”
    “Where is she?”
    “She went to the new loft. She said she’d bring some money and what was left of William’s blood back for you. You can stay in a hotel. Jared and I can guard you.”
    “She went to the loft? Where Elijah is?”
    “Oh, that’s not a problem,” Abby said. “My Samurai prince burned him up while rescuing me from the blond vampire ho and her grocery-store vamplets.”
    Tommy looked at Jared. “’Splain please.”
    J ust knock,” Drew said. “They’ll unlock it for you. You’re almost naked.” They stood by the front door of the Marina Safeway. Drew had healed a little from his burns, but was still bald and covered with a dusting of soot. Blue was completely healed, but wore only her charred underwear and the beige high heels that had looked so lovely with her linen dress.
    Since the first time she took the stage in high heels and a bikini back in her first Fond du Lac beauty pageant, right through her career stripping and then bonking for dollars, she thought the whole idea of high heels and underwear patently absurd. Yet here she was, rich, powerful, and immortal-yet still standing around wearing high heels and underwear. This time, however, there was some rationale for the outfit beyond that it floated some horndog’s hormonal boat. At the zoo, while the Animals had pursued their prey among animals, she had found two night watchmen, each isolated on his rounds, and took them down. Unfortunately, she hadn’t taken their clothing because she didn’t want to have to explain to the Animals why she was dressed like a night watchman, since they had suddenly decided to take the moral high ground on slaughter.
    The Animals had not fared so well. Drew was the only one in better shape than when they’d first been burned. He’d gone for a llama, because he’d always thought they were cute. He was able to feed only a little, however, before he was bitten and spat upon, and decided to call it a night. Gustavo had gone for a zebra, under the mistaken assumption that his experience with horses as a boy in Mexico would somehow give him an edge in handling the African equine. Consequently, he had been summarily stomped, and now had several broken bones, including a nasty compound fracture of one leg, in addition
    to being burned up. Jeff, the basketball failure, was still embarrassed about having been taken down by a girl, and so picked a jungle cat as his victim, thinking that he would take on the strength and speed of his donor. His right arm was attached only by a few muscles and much of that shoulder was gone altogether.
    His skin was still crusty black from the waist up.
    “Fuck knocking,” said Blue. The big front window had only that day been replaced, but she was going to lead her charge right through it. “Get in, find them, and take them.” She found she was falling back on her dominatrix experience a lot lately, which was not a skill in which she had complete confidence, having only recently been killed while performing it.
    She took three quick steps up, snatched up the steel-reinforced trash can that Jody had used on the window only days ago, and flung it underhanded with all her strength. The can rocketed through the air, bounced off the new, double-impact-resistant Plexiglas window, and knocked Blue on her ass.
    Blue climbed to her feet without making any eye contact with her undead posse, dusted off her bottom, then snapped her newly broken nose back into place.
    “Well, knock then, fuckstick,” she said to Drew. “Knock, knock, knock. We don’t have all night.”

29 – Don’t You Hate Running into
    Your Ex?
    As soon as she unlocked the new loft’s security door from the street, Jody smelled blood, burned flesh, and shampoo. A case of the willies that felt like an electric serpent slithered up her spine. She went up the stairs, light on the balls of her feet, ready. She heard every tick in the apartment, the refrigerator motor, floorboards shifting, the huge cat Chet snoring in the bedroom, and, of course, someone breathing.
    The lights were off. He was sitting in a canvas sling-back chair, barefoot, in a pair of Tommy’s jeans and a T-shirt, drying his hair with a towel. Jody stopped by the kitchen.
    “Fledgling,” said the