Four rules undying book.., p.11
Four (Rules Undying Book 1), page 11
“Oh yes, this is definitely an emergency.”
Georgia looked over the upholstery to see a tall, lanky form in a neatly pressed dark suit, slicked-back hair, and sunglasses, even though it was most definitely night. “Oh, not Agent Fucking Smith,”
she groaned as she buried her face again.
“Do I need to get a doctor?” he asked flatly.
“Just get changed,” the vampire ordered. “Trust me, Georgia, if I can correct you as you move, I think I can have this fixed! I just need to take a look at those elephant feet you have.”
“Fine, but why him?” she asked. “It’s not like I’m learning the robot.”
“Well, with Stefano off in Japan, I thought his boy was not being put to full use, so I thought he’d have nothing better to do,” Geoffrey said. “You keep telling me not to be wasteful, do you not?”
“I say one thing, and yet you always find a way to twist it in some strange way I never intended,” Georgia sighed. “So tell me, can this boy of Stefano’s even dance?”
“Well, as long as it’s the robot,” a dry voice said from the doorway. A completely different figure leaned against the jamb in a soccer jersey and sweatpants. His hair was not only slicked back but also captured in a teeny tiny black ponytail that splayed out like an untamed feather duster from the elastic band. His light green eyes that clashed with his classic Asian features stared impassively at the sweaty, red-faced girl on the sofa.
“You totally heard that?” she asked.
“You’re rather loud.”
“Oh, that is true, Mr. Matsuoka,” Mr. Lambley agreed. “Now, would you mind helping me show my dear assistant how to waltz?
I’m afraid that all my attempts have been futile so far, but that might be because we are just on such different levels. It’s so difficult to slow down enough for a human, you know.”
“As you wish, Mr. Lambley,” he said with a little bow. He then extended his hand toward the lump on the sofa. Georgia didn’t take it, but she did roll to her feet, take a deep breath, and offer her hand to him once Mr. Lambley started to raise a brow.
“Come on, he won’t bite,” Mr. Lambley chided as Georgia kept her distance.
“He’s probably the only one I’ll be dancing with that won’t,” she sighed. As she locked hands with him and he slid an arm around her back, she paused to take in the biceps and the little veins on his arms and just how firmly he held on.
“Is there a problem, Miss Sutherland?” he asked as she continued to stare at the edge of some unidentifiable ink peeking under his sleeve.
She shook her head and let the vampire adjust her posture for the umpteenth time. Mr. Lambley fluttered to and fro, moving an arm
and then shifting a foot until he finally got the starting point he desired. Once more the record began to play.
It started just as before, with Georgia’s partner falling victim to her amazing left feet crushing innocent toes. Mr. Matsuoka didn’t curse or snap or even flinch as he waited for her to adjust. The music started again, and she quickly tripped and planted her face right between his pecs, and still there was no reaction from her partner save a gentle nudge backward. Georgia made a sound rather like a horse as she struggled once more to move in time. This time she made it over twenty seconds before tripping up.
As Mr. Matsuoka gently nudged her back, she gritted her teeth.
By the tenth time of no reaction, she shoved away and stomped so hard the record skipped. “Come on! This is totally pointless.”
“That time you made it thirty-two seconds, by the way,” Mr.
Matsuoka said in his infuriating monotone voice.
“You’re counting?” she growled.
“I honestly am at a loss,” the vampire in the room declared. “If you will excuse me, I’m going to get some air and finish off the rat in the blender.”
Georgia slumped back onto her favorite cushion. “I can’t do this.”
“Only because you keep telling yourself that you can’t,” Mr.
Matsuoka said. “It’s rather pathetic.”
“What did you say?” she asked.
“I’m sorry, was I unclear?” he asked.
“Oh, you were clear. I was just in awe of just how much of an asshole you are.”
“Of course, honesty makes one an asshole in your universe,” he fired back. “What a fun world you live in.”
“Why you—”
“I’m just a robot, and I can manage this without looking like an idiot,” he said as he reached out his hand.
“Oh really?” she sputtered as she grabbed his hand and hopped to her feet.
“Really,” he said as he slipped on the record before grabbing her waist and jerking her rather roughly toward him. She responded
by stiffening and glaring right into his freakish eyes.
“Just because you think you’re so talented and this is easy doesn’t mean that it’s not hard for normal people,” she said as she shifted along with the music. “I mean, you’re so arrogant I can actually taste it.”
“I think that might just be my cologne,” he offered as he kept moving her around the empty patch cleared in the middle of the den.
“All I keep hearing is that Stefano’s boy can do this and do that and he can balance the checkbook and pay all the bills and do all the dancing and order the rats and—” she sputtered. Her partner interrupted her by spinning her outward and then yanking her back.
“I do have a name,” he said as she stopped right in front of his face.
“Oh, so sorry, Mr. Matsuoka,” she growled, taking time to exaggerate each and every syllable.
“My name is Ren,” he said with a slight sneer as he twirled her again.
“Ren,” she repeated as she suddenly noticed her feet gliding over the floorboards. Immediately she stumbled, but Ren jerked her back to attention.
“Stop thinking so much,” he warned. “It will only get you hurt.”
She started to speak, but he spun her again and this time when she whirled back, she nearly planted her face into his, but somehow his wiry arms totally managed to stop her. “Stop thinking,” he admonished again. “Let your feet just do their job.”
“Your voice,” she whispered. “Who talks like—?”
“Oh, miracles still happen!” a gleeful British accent chirped as the vampire watched Georgia drift around the room with a rather stunned look on her face. “He’s a bit taller, that’s it. It was easier for you to get the frame and the steps!”
Georgia kept looking at the chest in front of her. “Yeah, must have been that,” she muttered.
“Just let your feet do their job,” he whispered before letting Mr.
Lambley cut in. A stunned Georgia managed to keep her footing as the shorter, but even more graceful, partner led her back and forth.
“Did you require anything else, Mr. Lambley?” Ren Matsuoka asked in the same damnably calm and even tone as the music finally ended with Miss Sutherland still on her feet.
“Oh, I think Georgia had some bills to be taken care of. You can get them and go,” Geoffrey said, still giggling with delight.
“I’ll get them,” she said, still distracted. Ren followed her dutifully back toward the kitchen. Once they were safely in the oasis of fluorescents and vinyl tiles, she whirled around. “What is up with you?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said. “Mind if I grab some water?”
“You just kowtow and do whatever Mr. Lambley says.”
“I’m a servant to vampires,” he said flatly. “It’s what I do. Mr.
DeMarco is not my boss, he’s my master. My master has ordered me to take care of your boss, so I do what I am told. That is all there is to it.”
“Jesus, do you have any say in all this?”
“Are these all the bills?” he said, picking up the pile on the kitchen table.
“Oh, you do care. You changed that subject pretty damn fast.”
“Do you always swear this much?” he asked flatly.
“Only around you,” she said back just as flatly.
“It’s nice to know that I inspire you,” he said before taking the pile to the bathroom and tucking them in his gym bag along with his neatly folded suit.
“Shouldn’t you hang that?” was all she could say.
“Yes, I should. Thanks for asking. Have a good night, Miss Sutherland.”
“My name is Georgia,” she said, imitating his monotone voice with a subtle little sneer at the end of the phrase.
“Good night, Georgia,” he said before letting himself out.
- 7 -
“Wow, that Ren guy sounds like a total jerk,” Gail offered between sips.
“Oh, you have no idea,” Georgia said, taking a drink. “But he was totally right. I just had it in my head that I couldn’t dance, and he got me over that block. With only a month to prep for a vampire party, I needed to get moving and stop worrying about my feet and start to worry about the rest of me and my nervous Nellie of a partner
. . .”
“I am so terribly sorry,” Mr. Lambley said as he slouched against the kitchen cabinets.
“Why is it always carrots?” Georgia asked, bewildered as she surveyed the pile of sick in front of the fridge.
“I couldn’t help it. When I get nervous . . .” The vampire groaned as he clutched the blender glass to his chest.
His lip quivered, and his face grew more and more pale as his assistant scooped up his vomit and chucked it into the garbage disposal. She picked up a leaf with her pink rubber gloves.
“Did you take my spinach?” she asked.
The vampire burst into sobs. “Who am I kidding? I saw all those tempting, beautiful vegetables, and they called to me,” he blubbered.
“You had spinach and carrots! Oh, Geoffrey—”
“The ball is in a week, and I don’t think I can do it,” he moaned.
“I’m just a fangless, worthless—”
“We aren’t having this conversation again,” Georgia muttered.
“Look, if you can’t watch what you eat on my biweekly night off, I’m going to have to call that Ren to watch you.”
“Mr. Matsuoka would let me do whatever I wish,” Geoffrey protested.
“He would not put a salad in a blender for you. Oh, god, you’ve got the shakes,” Georgia said. She stopped cleaning, yanked off her gloves, and hopped over the remainder of the goo to help her boss to his feet and lead him to the couch in the den. Once he was tucked in with a blanket and a comforting infomercial on the TV, she hopped back to the kitchen and pulled out a mason jar full of bright red liquid that was marked with “G.L.”
Geoffrey wrinkled his nose as she popped open the jar and offered it to him.
“Come on,” she coaxed gently as she held up his head and poured a little into his mouth. “I want you to have this so I don’t start looking tasty in an hour or so.”
He finally choked down a little bit of plain pig’s blood. A little flush of color returned to his cheeks, and after a second round, his breath slowly settled down to normal. Georgia pushed the tufts of hair back from his receding hairline.
“You are the strangest vampire I have ever met,” she sighed.
“I’m the only vampire you’ve really met,” Geoffrey replied.
“Well, that will all change soon enough. Now, you get some rest while I clean up,” she said.
“I can’t go. I don’t care if—” he muttered.
“Look, if I can waltz, you can mingle for a few hours. Just stop thinking about it.”
“There’s so much to teach still. You need lessons on etiquette and history and—”
“You need to rest and lay off the human food,” she chided. “I’m sure I can find someone with a lot of knowledge who can teach me all this stuff while you get better. Is that friend of yours still out of town?”
Geoffrey nodded weakly.
“All right now, I’m gonna finish cleaning. If you need anything, just yell . . .”
“If there is one terrible fact about the life of an undead assistant, it’s that your support options can be limited.” Georgia sighed as she settled against the back cushion. Gail leaned in to listen with baited
breath. “I only knew one person to call, a person probably not very happy to be called on his night off once more to help another vampire in need.”
“Ren Matsuoka, right?” Gail asked.
“The one and only. He gave me the same rundown on the families I just gave you. He also showed up with a gym bag again. I guess he thought I’d had a total relapse after my dance lessons. He was also ever so quick to pass judgment on my early failures in vampire caretaking . . .”
“He did what?” Ren asked with an ever-so-slight break in his normally flat inflection.
“He puked on the kitchen floor. Do I need to do anything special to, you know, dispose of it—”
“You didn’t mention that he was vomiting. What the hell have you been letting him eat?” Ren snapped as he ripped open the fridge door.
“He broke into my carrots—”
“Carrots!” Ren snapped. “What is in the bags?”
“Pig’s blood.”
“Do you have anything stronger?” he said as he rifled through the rather sparse icebox.
“Stronger, like what?”
Ren stared right through her. “You’re telling me that you don’t keep any human blood in the house?”
“Just my own, but that is staying in me!” she snapped.
“Do you have any idea how much cellulose is in a raw carrot?”
he asked, with absolute venom in his now-expressive voice.
“Oh, I’m sure you’re about to tell me, Einstein,” Georgia snapped back.
“Cellulose is toxic to vampires. A little bit makes them high if they can tolerate it, but too much can kill them. You at least know about stakes through the heart, right?”
“Well, I didn’t stab a carrot into his chest. He just mixed my juice into his blood—”
“Vampires are colonial parasitic organisms. It’s not stabbing them in the heart that kills them, it’s the wood,” he snapped.
“Well, of course! Everyone knows that,” Georgia laughed.
Ren pulled his phone to his ear. “Not everyone knows that, but you should,” he said as he waited for an answer. He suddenly turned from Georgia and launched into a flurry of some melodic Asian language. After a few nods and a quick pace around the room, he jerked his phone away and turned back to the red-faced girl in the kitchen. Georgia took a few deep controlled breaths before finally looking him right back in the freakish eyes.
“Well, did I kill him?” she asked.
“Mr. Lambley is not completely cellulose intolerant. In fact, he has a rather extraordinary tolerance, but if he has gotten to the point of vomit, he is sick and needs to detoxify. Vampires need pure proteins to survive. They are obligate carnivores. Do you know what that means?”
“Do you know what condescending asshole means?” she fired back.
It was his turn to take a deep breath or two. “Gary is going to be by in about twenty minutes with a bag of human plasma. It should be enough for you to thin with a bit of water, salt, and vinegar and feed him for about three days.”
“Human . . . blood?” Georgia asked. “How on earth—”
“Gary works for the local Red Cross blood drive. He also has a fetish for being tied up while dressed as a large gopher. His beaver buddy is a friend of mine, and she took many incriminating pictures.
Thus we can get small batches of quality human blood with very little cost or effort,” Ren said.
“Why is that somehow more disturbing than feeding a vampire?”
Georgia asked.
Ren looked back in the fridge. “There are a lot of vegetables in here. The solids aren’t tempting, but when you put it in juice form, it’s like offering a beer to an alcoholic,” he muttered. “Mr. Lambley has always had a problem with watching what he eats. How do you think he lost his fangs?”
“I never—”
“You never asked?”
“You know, I don’t think it’s very polite to ask your boss, ‘Hey, how did you lose your teeth?’”
Ren just shook his head. Georgia stomped off to check on her boss. He gave her a little thumbs-up from the sofa as he watched a woman with very large hair crying over her second husband leaving her for her evil twin.
“Did I hear the door?” he asked.
“Our friend Mr. Matsuoka stopped by to help me get ready so you could rest. I think we’re going to get you a little snack too.”
The vampire grinned, showing off the gaps in his teeth. “I’m so sorry I made a mess in the kitchen,” he apologized again.
“Don’t you worry about it, but no more carrots for a while, OK?”
“Oh, I just had a few too many,” he snorted. “So what is Stefano’s boy teaching you? His family has served our kind for centuries, you know. He’s rather an expert.”
“Oh, he just seems to know everything,” Georgia said with a forced smile. “Need anything else?”
As he shook his head, she wandered back to the kitchen to find Ren spreading a bunch of old papers and Mr. Higgins’s journal on the table. He would glance at a page for mere seconds before filing it back in a pile. “You know, you have a wealth of information here if you choose to use it,” he said, not even looking up.
“I’ve read some bits and pieces, but it’s not that easy to follow,”
she said.
“Apparently Mr. Lambley has done this quite a few times,” Ren said as he continued to scan. “Oh, and I poured drain cleaner into the disposal. That plus some hot water should dispose of any infection left over from the vomit.”
“Infection?”
“Shall we start at the beginning?” he asked.
“That depends. Are you going to keep going through Mr.
Lambley’s things and dismissing me?” she asked.
Before he could start again, his phone vibrating on the table interrupted them. “Gary is fast tonight,” he muttered before heading to the door. Georgia watched the strange man who showed up in the
middle of the night in a suit and tie as he drifted to the door and whispered to the rather unassuming-looking courier in a hoodie and jeans. She managed to get a quick glimpse of puffy cheeks and dark eyes behind coke-bottle glasses before Ren’s back blocked her view again. Neither one of them spoke a lick of English as Ren passed a small wad of cash over in exchange for a little red lunch bag with a local insurance company logo on the side.
