Best New Vampire Tales: Vol 1 Part 6

The first call he made was to Jim at the plant.

"How did the old son of a b.i.t.c.h like 'em?" Jim asked.

"Oh, well enough I suppose, though I doubt we'll get any orders from him for a while. How are the European orders coming?"

"Not nearly as many changes as Moors made. Probably be ready in two weeks."

"And the automatic openers?"

"All installed."

Jim transferred him to accounting, where the secretary confirmed that the European check had cleared just that morning.

Buddy hung up the phone and pulled out his airline credit card.

"h.e.l.lo, I need to book a flight to London," he said when the agent answered the phone.

I may not be a great salesman, but I bet I'm the highest paid vampire killer in the world.

And the only one with referrals.

A Sunset So Glorious.

RYCKE FOREMAN.

The djinn thought that Herman's first wish was a valid one: "I wish I was very handsome. Appealing to women, you know." He said this in his funny little voice while bright red blossoms bloomed over his cheeks. "s.e.xy, you know. Irresistible. Sleek, even."

"Very well, Master," said the djinn. With the wave of one mighty hand, a new man emergedaaa man who would no longer be know as Herman (oh noaathat name was so inadequate for the proud new gentleman now standing before the djinn), but possibly Arman or Armond. Indeed, the Herman who had brushed his sleeve up against the lamp was gone; rips from his now insufficient suit resounded throughout the room as his biceps, triceps, and gluteus expanded. No more horn-rimmed gla.s.ses that distorted his once sheepish, watchful eyes; his meager, rounded jaw was now square and sharp. Herman (or rather, Armond) no longer slouched, but held his shoulders square and erect, his spine stiffaahe seemed to have grown a full five or six inches.

The man turned, glancing into a nearby mirror. Herman would have gasped and exclaimed "Dear me!" but Armond simply studied his new face, held fast his own magnetic-blue eyes while fluffing his already perfect hair. He smirked. "You really are a genie, then, aren't you?" he asked, admiring the newly acquired potency to his voice.

"A djinn, actually."

"But you can make magicaaI mean, truly perform it."

"Certainly, Master. Did I not state that clearly enough to begin with?"

"Well yes, but of course I thought you meant party tricks or something. Pulling rabbits out of hats, that sort of rubbish."

The mighty creature smiled, thinking in an ancient, long-dead language: In what form now comes your greed? The djinn knew he had but a moment to wait.

Armond returned his gaze to the mirror, seeming to stun even himself for a moment. "My G.o.d ... " He looked deep into the mesmerizing orbs. "No ... I don't think being an accountant will do anymore. Not for this face, this bodyaano. This is a temple that must be wors.h.i.+pped by the world. It's simply too beautiful not to, but ... but is this the face of a movie star? An athlete? Or the start of a political dynasty?" The man paused, as if savoring the aroma of a juicy T-bone steak.

"I want power," Armond said firmly, with a dark sneer that somehow complemented his radiance and added l.u.s.ter to his newfound beauty. "True Power. Nothing so trivial as a hick oil tyc.o.o.n or even the Presidency. NoaaI want the real thing, the power to hypnotize, mesmerize, influence and maintain control upon the nations. I will leave my mark and they will feed me with their undying devotion ... " Armond trailed off momentarily; the wish granter wasn't sure if the man was lost in the depths of his own eyes or the fantasy.

"Is that your second wish?" the djinn prompted.

"Yes."

"State it as a wish, if you please."

"Very well, then. You heard what I just said, so grant it now, for that is how I wish."

"Yes, Master. Your wish is myaa"

"And I know what my third wish is to be, as well." A maniacal grin slashed across his perfect features "I want immortality, too. I wish itaanow grant it."

The floating dastard nodded solemnly, preparing to gift his nine hundred ninety-nine thousandth, nine hundred and ninety-eighth and ninth wishes; the final two any bound servant was required to grant. The lastaaand mightiestaawas reserved for the wishmaster himself. But first: "May I ask of you a few questions, my Master?"

"If it's quick," the man snapped.

"Do you subscribe to a particular religious faith?"

"No."

"Do you have an affinity for Italian meals?"

"No. When I was ... him ... I suffered quite severely from indigestion."

"Do you partic.i.p.ate in many outdoor activitiesaaday hikes, swimming, sunning yourself at the beach?"

An eye-roll was enough for the djinn.

"Do you have an aversion to blood?"

Armond was growing impatient. "He might have, but I am quite confident in my own capabilities."

"Very well, Master. And now, a final caveat: There are few beings in any realm that possess true immortality, and only One allowed to grant it. However, I can bestow eternal life ... within certain limitationsaa "What sort of limitations?"

"Based on your answers, nothing too difficult to avoid." Save for one, perhaps, the djinn thought.

"Fine, fine. Just get on with it."

"Your wish is my command." As the djinn finished bringing Armond's wishes to pa.s.s, he quickly granted himself the millionth wish. His legsaauntil now merely a funnel-shaped mistaamaterialized beneath him, much the same way as the rest of his new life was entering the world far beyond these walls. He exercised his restored limbs with a deep knee bend. Surprisingly, they weren't too stiff either, given the pa.s.sing of so many millennia. Joints popping loudly as he stood, the former djinn (soon to be Kamal al-Mas'ud ibn Khaldun aal-Filistenni again, once he got on with his new life) made hastily for the door.

Behind him, Armond growled, "Wait a minute! What's happening? I can't see myself." Armond was looking desperately into the mirror; it revealed a room full of everything that should be thereaaexcept him. "Where is my reflection?"

Soon-to-be-Kamal didn't bother to answer. Instead, he threw the front door wide, gazing breathlessly upon a sunset so glorious. Its golden rays were warm and exquisite, seeming to gently sizzle his tender new flesh.

The sizzle of the vampire's flesh was much louder and more dramatic, popping and crackling and fizzing in a frenzied stutter, Armond's scream lingering even after he'd been reduced to fluttering ashes.

Kamal shot one last glance at the smoldering remains littered before the looking gla.s.s, then he shut the door. He took another moment to again admire the fiery gloaming before he turned, ready to give his new legs a run for the money.

The Verbpire.

FREDRICK OBERMEYER.

I'd like to think that feeding off other people's verbs is at worst a victimless crime, but there are people who feel otherwise. Diana Freswelth was one of them and thanks to her I nearly died.

Until the night when I tried to feed on her verbs, it had been bliss. We hit it off in London and from there traveled around the world to cities far and wide.

After five weeks of pleasure, we settled down together in Seattle and I continued to go on in secret for months after, consuming my daily requirement of verb forms with languages ranging from English to Spanish to Arabic. Sometimes I'd even sample the occasion adverb, but most of the time they were bloated and left me with a lot of gas.

Life was good and since people often had a surplus of verbs in them, I had plenty to eat. And unlike regular bloodsucking vampires, I never left a wake of dried out corpses after me. Just some people who couldn't speak verbs for a few days.

Now tell me, is that such a crime?

But I still shudder at her reaction the night I told her that I was a verbpire. We had just come back to her apartment after dinner. She had put some Frank Sinatra on the CD player and I leaned back and relaxed as I listened to "Strangers in the Night."

Diana fixed up two fingers of whiskey sour, gave me one and sat down on the couch next to me. We clinked our gla.s.ses together and then drank.

Afterwards, she slid closer. I took her in my arms.

"I love you, Larry," Diana said.

"I love you too." I kissed her on the cheek, sighing as I tasted the edge of her first person verb. The word "love" is perfectly concise and put in its best verb form. "I love" is probably the most delicious verb ever made. I wanted to suck even more I loves out of her. But I held back. I had to tell her who and what I was.

"Shall we ... "

"Yes, but first I need to tell you something," I said.

"It's not that you're really gay or that you have genital warts, is it?"

"No, it's not that. It's just ... " My voice trailed off and my stomach rumbled. I wanted to taste her verbs so bad it made me ache, even though I had consumed a maitre d's worth of conjugated verbs back at the restaurant during a supposed cigarette break.

"What? Spit it out."

"I'm a verbpire," I said.

"A what?" Diana blinked and stared at me as if I had just started babbling incoherently.

"A verbpire."

"What's that?"

"A vampire that thrives on verbs to stay alive and live forever." I licked my lips, feeling hungry at using up so many verbs.

Diana looked at me for a moment. Her lips trembled. Then she broke out laughing and my heart dropped into my shoe.

"Verbpire, that's a good one." She snorted and laughed so hard that tears rolled down her cheeks. "Honestly, where do you make up this stuff? I know you're a writer, but-"

"But I'm telling you, it's true. I really am a verbpire."

"I think you need to loosen up a little. Have another drink."

She reached over for the whiskey bottle, but I grabbed her hand and said, "No, I'm being serious here." I let go of her arm and she lowered it. "Before we get any deeper into this relations.h.i.+p, I want to be open and honest with you. And I want us to have no secrets between us. Normally I wouldn't have told you, but you're the first person I've met in a long time that I feel I can be totally open and honest with."

Confusion tightened her normally smooth face and she stared at me for a moment.

"I agree that we shouldn't keep secrets," Diana said. "But what you have just told me doesn't sound like a secret."

"Then what does it sound like?"

"Bulls.h.i.+t."

"You need proof?"

"That might be nice."

"But I don't want to make you verbless."

"Shall I bear my neck for you instead?" She tilted her head, exposed her neck and laughed again.

"Knock it off." I waved my hand.

"I'm serious. If you really are this thing, then prove it. Take my verbs away from me."

"Let's just drop it, okay?"

"No, really, how do you do it? Do you drain them out of my forehead?"

"Actually I use the lips."

"Then do it."

"I really ought not to. I already had my fill."

"Then why did you bring it up in the first place? Are you trying to spoil the mood?"

"No, I just-"

"Show me that you're telling me the truth."

"Fine," I said. "But just remember you asked for it."

I grabbed her shoulders, pulled her right up close to me and pressed my lips hard against her own, forming a tight seal. For a second, she started kissing me.