Viper The Vampire Assassin

Chapter 1

Rio’s eyes widened in disbelief as I callously removed the nine inch blade from his former associate’s chest and then lapped up the blood as if the knife were a Popsicle.

What? This is what you pay me to do so this is the result, I say nonchalantly, allowing the now deceased body to drop to the ground in a heap.

But damn Viper, Rio said while running his fingers over his bald head.

Shit, man how you eat is-

What? Disgusting? I say flicking the blade at him.

Yeah, something like that. He mumbled.

Well, a girl’s gotta eat and you have never offered to buy me dinner.

I wipe down the knife with an old towel I brought along for cleaning purposes.

But Viper--

I’m a vampire Rio. I need to eat just like you do remember? What I do and the situations that I get myself caught up in forces me to expend more energy that necessary, so I have to replace that energy somehow. Besides, you appreciate my sadistic tendencies.

Whatever Viper. I’m out of here. Call Tony and tell him he needs a cleaning crew. And get rid of those fucking snakes! What the fuck am I going to do if I get bit?

Die.

Fuck you Viper.

Love you too Rio. Rio storms out of the warehouse leaving me alone with my kills. Thank goodness Rio’s and my relationship is

like that of a brother and sister. I would actually mourn his death if he forces me to kill him.

I don’t fuck. Ever. It complicates things and gives men a false sense of dominance over women, and from my experiences in my line of work, men like to use their dicks as weapons too. Rio knows where I stand and respects that and so far, so good. Rio disappears down the corridor leaving me alone in the bloody mess of a homicide I was all too enthused to partake in. Several of my victims’ so called best men lay in contorted positions until they choked on their own blood. One of the men, a child rapist that I had been stalking for quite some time after catching a glimpse of him on the late night news, I left with his face literally buried in his ass. I wanted to impale him, but I had used most of the broken metal and glass that was available in the warehouse on his associates before I got to him. 10 men in total…and I killed each and every one of them in less than fifteen minutes. I deserve a medal.

I survey the heap of blood and gore as the few rays of light creep in through the cracks of the window panes and I realize it is time for me to bounce. If you know anything about vampires, you know that we don’t do sunlight. Ever. My tolerance level is nil. I made this particular discovery a month or so after being turned. It was a few weeks after my 19th birthday, and the thirst had driven me to the point of madness, so much so that I risked leaving the protection of my nightmarish memory that created who I am today, for the coursing blue-green vein of the mail carrier. Midday. In, July. Not only did my neighbors not receive their mail that day, but I burned to a fucking crisp and the only thing I can remember is waking up to a dim light in the coroners’ office on a cold metal slab. And yes, I scared the living shit out of the Coroner, his staff and the aging security guard that night, but in my haste to escape they lived to tell about it.

Rio found me about a month or so after that in an alley. He caught me feeding on one of his men, and…we have been friends ever since.

I dematerialize to my lair, which is a two bedroom condo right in the heart of Hollywood, not too far off from the Sunset Strip, and in the belly of the beast of the Fake, the Phony, and the Fraudulent. Silicon lips, breasts, and asses sashay across the pavement after dark to seduce the minds and hearts of men concealed underneath the alluring façade of money, power and promise. I relish it all: the illusion, the dance…the so called predators unaware of a true predator in their midst. I head home. The pending sunlight and the feeding frenzy have me feeling sluggish, and in this state I am vulnerable.

Breaking down into a molecular state and then riding out the airwaves in atomic form is something that I will never quite get used to. I had no idea I was capable of such a feat for years-but that is the price one pays when their maker leaves them for dead. He will have his due, though. Guaranteed. In a matter of minutes I arrive at my doorstep, which is three stories up with a balcony overlooking the quiet, and very turned down streets of Hollywood. Sometimes, humans are a lot like vampires. They hide under the shadowy protection of night to indulge in fleshly pleasures, prey on the weak, and run from the light.

I have no need for keys when I can just poof myself inside with just a thought, and once inside I strip right at the door. Rio had automatic blinds installed so that at a certain time, just before dawn they automatically collapse, providing me with enough darkness for me to rest in comfort. But before resting, I have to shower. There is no way I am going to jump into my clean, white satin sheets without washing away the night’s atrocities from my body. Some vampires lose all concern for their physical appearance, and I cannot exactly blame them considering that blood and violence are the only driving forces that keep any of us going. Well, except for me: revenge drives me, and blood sustains me.

Making my way to my luxury bathroom with the marble flooring and dual head shower with enough space for two, I cut the water on to maximum heat and close the shower door behind me. You should try showering in the dark. Water and darkness calms the senses, and creates a level of tranquility unmatched by any spa or massage parlor. I can think; unwind and return to a very private space that refuses to abandon me. I can remember my earlier years of life when I was a normal 19 year old girl filled with hopes, dreams, and a certain future. I had a family, lived in the quiet neighborhoods of the suburbs in Canoga Park, and had just completed my first year at USC. I was going to be a doctor. And then, the shit hit the fan.

My father deserved what he got, but why did all of us have to pay?

I lather myself from head to toe with my favorite Shea butter body wash, and allow the water to beat down on my skin for an additional ten minutes before stepping out. I shut off the memories that were threatening to consume me, and slip on a pair of black yoga pants, a sports bra, and tie by braids up tightly high on the crown of my head, and hit the cushiony comfort of my Temperpedic mattress. The sun is shining brightly in the sky and it is lights out for me just as my face hits the pillow. I barely made it in the house in time.

My eyes snap open to the sound of my IPhone going off in this annoying melody that is supposed to be an audio version of pure sunshine. I hate it. There is only one number stored in my phone and that of course is Rio. Tonight was supposed to be my night off-not that I don’t mind putting in some extra overtime, but still-so whatever it is, it must be crucial. In a flash I am out the bed, and I yank the expensive device from its charging station and answer with a snappy, What? Rio informs me that he needs me to meet him at his studio, and to come as soon as I am ready. This better be important. The sun’s rays had barely disappeared beneath the horizon, but I could still the residual sting of ultra violet light burning through the atmosphere.

This better be good.

In minutes I am fully dressed: saggy combat fatigues, Timberland boots, cut off tank and matching jacket. I pull the tomboy look off pretty well, and besides, I am not looking for love. Love no longer lives in this dark heart of mine and never will. I take my braids down and watch how they drop to below my waist. I honestly love my look, and to a certain extent, I can appreciate the fact that I will never age beyond 19. There is a level of vanity that rests within the fact that one is an immortal: humans have spent entire lifetimes searching for it, when the powers of immortality rest in the most purest of darkness and evil. I braid my hair into a single braid, conceal a couple of knives and my cute little 9 mm Glock on me, and then I am out in the wind.

I don’t even bother to lock my door.

I know the city of Los Angeles like I know my name, and as I travel through the particles of the heavily polluted city to my mentor’s music studio, I can’t help but feel the electric vibes as the city came alive with activity. The great city of L.A. is busy in the day, with the hustle and bustle of street vendors coming alive to make sure that at the end of the day there is bread on the table to feed their families; business men and women, dressed to the nine’s in their expensive and finely detailed attire to entice potential clients with the impression that they had it all under control; and then the regular working class Joe’s, whether by bus, car or train, bills had to be paid, kids needed to be fed, and jobs needed to be done whether they liked it or not. I remember my mother being one of those working class Joe’s, and my father- a successful business man with long list of clients that he worked for privately, would rise every morning to meet the sun and deal with the day’s stress and grind… But now that the sun has set, a different kind of hustle has taken over: the streets have awakened, and I feel invigorated. My gum line tingles with anticipation of trouble, as my fangs prepare to lower, and my body tenses from the surge of adrenaline I hope Rio sends me on a mission tonight. Otherwise the city of Los Angeles will be met with a terror the streets had not experienced in a long time.

I arrive as soon as it is dark; the night sounds a symphony of life and energy to my ears. His studio is located in a three bedroom house in the uppity black neighborhood of Baldwin Hills. I hate this part of town. It is nothing but a snobby mixture of D list black actors and working class professionals who feel that a Bachelor’s degree in some right brained field grants them the right to separate themselves from the rest of society’s degenerates and the uneducated. His three bedroom townhouse is situated right on top of a hill, in a cul-de-sac community that makes my blood boil. I don’t even knock on the door because one his unnaturally large body guards answers the door the moment I appear at his doorstep. The burly Mexican man with the thick accent and the body built like a fortress does not intimidate me whatsoever. I have worked with this brute before and if anyone is feeling slightly unnerved, it is him. He eyes me carefully before stepping to the side and letting me in without a word.

A thick cloud of smoke blankets the halls and I wonder why humans, whose bodies are more fragile than what they like to believe, are so willing to suffer themselves to slow deaths. I bypass a couple of thugs who eye me appreciatively, and I shake my head. Nothing but wannabe’s: they want to rap, they want to be gangsters but cannot rhyme two words together and have never seen a single dead body, let alone been the cause of one. I pass the living room which is decorated with an all -white theme and I chuckle at the idea of splashing it with a little red. I continue down the hall and down the cream carpeted stairs to the basement, where I found him sitting next to the engineer, bobbing his head to the beat and the fire hot bars that a rapper spat behind the glass. I eye all three and then lean against the wall and wait until the rapper steps from behind the glass and slaps Rio and the engineer a high five, before making them aware of my presence.

So I take it you disturbed me from my slumber for a private listening session, I say sarcastically, my eyes narrowing at Rio, the engineer and then the rapper.

What the hell? I told you about that shit! Rio jumps up along with the very startled engineer, glaring at me.

You need better bodyguards, I add coolly. Because you are slippin’

Rio does nothing more than shake his head, and I can tell that my Brazilian acquaintance is not pleased with my obvious lack of respect for his reputation nor his ego.

Ay, Rio who dis? The rapper asked, eyeing me suspiciously but at the same time giving my body an appreciative once over. She looks a bit young to be of your company, he added jokingly.

Rio brushed his fingers over his perfectly bald head and sent another heated glare in my direction before offering an appropriate introduction.

Kevin, this is Viper. Do not let her looks fool you. Trust me.

Viper huh?

I detected a slight hint of a southern accent coming from a platinum grilled mouth and a nice smile.

What could you be possibly into that would render you with the name Viper? What’s your government name shawty?

I swear I want to bite this man…and in a way that would only be pleasant to me.

First of all my birth name is none of your business and if you are interested in how I acquired the name Viper, I would be more than happy to demonstrate-

Let’s not have any demonstrations, Rio interrupted nervously.

Kevin, her name is Viper and let’s leave it at that. She is older than she looks and she is the best at what she does. She is swift, clean and ain’t brought no trouble to me since I found her. Viper, I called you here because…well walk with me so we can talk.

Rio gets up and slaps both men, who continue to eye me with a high level of confusion and resentment, and then leads me up the stairs and does not stop until we are high up on the third floor in his private office. He takes a seat on his chocolate brown leather recliner in front of a wide, polished woodened desk draped with stacks of paperwork and a desktop. He offers me a seat on the matching sofa but I decline. No need to relax if it’s business.

So, again you called me here for? I demand with my arms folded across my chest.

Kevin is my new protégé and the first artist representing my record label Get Money Records-

-Since when did you have a record label? I ask feeling slightly surprised and annoyed at the same time. I know everything about everyone that I deal with, and the fact that I did not know that Rio had started a record label was not good. Not good at all.

You have been busy, he argued. And while you were out doing what you do best, I was making sure that I can retire without any interference from the law. Music has always been my thing and when I finally came up with the money to start a label, I got right to it.

Retire?

Yup. From the streets. How long do you think I can keep this up without at some point ending up in federal custody? That is why I hired you: to help me clean house so everything can go as planned.

This man has no idea how close I am to killing him and everyone else in this house. He never told me that my purpose was to help him prepare for retirement, and he still owed me a favor.

So what is going to happen once you are fully out of the game? I ask, as I take a step closer to him and lean over the desk so I can look into his eyes.

Viper, now look again, how long did you think I could keep any of this up before someone snitched on me and has me sitting behind bars for life? What good would I be to you then? He glanced at something behind his desk, a gun probably, and I could sense his fear escalating to an intoxicating level. I step back and sigh dramatically.

And what good are you to me now? You owe me ‘a favor. I could give a rat’s ass about you retiring truthfully. I want Lucas Barnes. You said you would help me find him! He shushed me and jumped up and ran to close the door behind him, before smiling at me wickedly.

That rapper that you met downstairs is his brother. Lucas dropped his own brother from his label, after robbing him blind of his platinum sales, appearances, and sell out shows. I told you that I had your back since you have more than had mine. My eyes widened at the knowledge and it was more than tempting to dematerialize back down to the basement and rip Mr. Kevin limb from limb as a sort of payment for his brother’s crimes.

Why is he not vampire? I ask, my mind racing a million miles a minute. I start to pace, trying to assess the situation and figure out what exactly I should do.

Kevin seems to be unaware of what his brother is. I think in recent years, Lucas has adopted a more…deceptive way of thinking. He is about survival, and if he is to survive, he can’t go around turning family members into things of the undead-

He stops mid-sentence before correcting himself. He knows how I feel about being referred to as a member of the undead. I am not a goddamn zombie. I breathe, I walk and talk coherently and I am not suffering from decay. I am not undead; more like transformed into a living, breathing curse.

…he can’t go around turning family members into vampires. He is more secretive and like I said, deceptive. He has done a great job confusing the hell out of humans.

So what will you have me do? If this is his brother, this makes my job very, very easy. I say with a grin.

Not really. Kevin hates Lucas, true, for everything that he has done to him creatively and professionally, and not to mention personally. But, Lucas is deeply covered by the lords of the underworld, and from what I have discovered; he is the equivalent of a modern day Dracula. You plan on going on a suicide mission against a master vampire whom has probably been around longer than the history of this country!

All vampires share the same weaknesses, regardless of their age. He is just more experienced in avoiding such weaknesses. He can be killed.

You are talking about doing this alone and using his brother as a tool to get to him!

His brother will not be harmed by me in my pursuit Rio, I say as calmly as possible. And what other option is there for me other than hunting this creature alone? Rio’s eyes soften, and as nice as it is to know someone actually cares, he is going to have to suck it up or risk me killing him.

You don’t have to do this Viper, he pleads.

What is the reason for my visit tonight? I ask as I casually brush him off. I know it has nothing to do with you convincing me to change my mind on something we both agreed on a few years ago or does it? Rio’s hardened gaze returned as he matched my stare with his, and I knew I had won.

I summoned you here because I need for you to act as a hired guard for Kevin. Since he signed with my company, he has received nothing but attempts on his life, and death threats and a few of my guards have proven unworthy of such a mission. In the meantime this will give you an opportunity to cozy up to Kevin and learn as much as you can about him and his brother while I do some more digging about Lucas and his origins. Rio sighed before plopping down on the couch.

I wouldn’t dig too much about Lucas, I warn. Leave that up to me. If you do, you are going to find yourself in a world much more violent than the one you live in, and you are lucky I am the only vampire you have stumbled upon. There are more of us out there, and some of them are much more instinctual and violent than myself…and besides, Lucas I am sure does not need to get wind of some lowly human drug lord turned record label CEO asking about him. He is I am sure not too thrilled about his brother signing to your company. Watching a very tanned, hardened Brazilian man lose his coloring was a sight to see. No matter how hard a man is, there are some things even he knows he shouldn’t tamper with. He simply nodded in agreement.

When do I start? I ask.

Tonight Kevin is flying out to Miami for a show tonight, followed by a number of press conferences that are going to announce his new label home which will introduce my company.

"So you