Excerpt: New City <subject to change>

I’d suck her blood any day.

“Shut up,” Lori muttered through his teeth, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them, it was to find a tall, blond-haired boy in front of him, arms folded across his strong chest, which was covered in fake blood. Lori blinked, studying his opponent, who was dressed as some sort of dead sports player. His shoulder-length hair was matted in more fake blood, his face painted grey and accented with bruises.

“I thought I had you pinned down,” said the stranger, “But now it looks like you hit on freaks without boyfriends too.”

“What?”

Honestly, sometimes you are so dense.

“Don’t get me?” asked the blond, moving closer, and Lori took a step back. He felt his elbow hit the metal push-handle of an emergency exit, and he let out an internal sigh of relief.

“No...” Lori said, shaking his head and hoping he could talk it out. This had to be Julie’s boyfriend. He was taller than Lori had expected, though had the body of someone who had grown up on a farm, which wasn’t entirely surprising.

“Guess I’ll be teaching you something new, then,” the boy muttered, then motioned to the door with his broad chin. “Outside.”

“I’d rather not,” Lori stated simply, feeling his heart rate pick up and glancing into the gym to see if anyone was watching them. To his dismay, he saw no one, but he smiled as though recognizing someone. “Hey, how’s it going?”

The ruse worked, and Julie’s boyfriend turned to look behind him. Lori took this temporary lapse to push through the emergency exit, feeling the night air pick at his clammy skin. His feet were running before he’d even made it through the door, though before he’d made it three steps into the night, he found himself on dirt ground, surrounded by what could only be the rest of the basketball team: they’d been waiting for him. Julie’s boyfriend shoved through the door behind him.

“Little fucker tricked me,” he muttered, and one of the other zombies laughed.

“Wouldn’t really be hard, Brian.”

“Shut up. Pick him up.”

You. Are. So. Stupid.

Lori struggled futily as several sets of hands grabbed at his arms and clothes, pulling him upwards until he was on his feet facing Brian, who wasn’t looking at all impressed with his previous trick.

“How many times am I gonna have to tell you not to mack on Julie any more?” he asked, and Lori shook his head.

“Only once, I swear,” he said quickly, trying to pull his arms free. Brian tilted his head, moving towards him.

“Guess I better make it a good one, then,” he said menacingly. Then, in one fluid motion and before Lori could even protest, he bent his knees and drove a vicious uppercut into Lori’s stomach. The latter let out a brief yell, doubling over as much as possible while his arms were held, feeling his stomach muscles contract painfully. “Figured it out now?”

Lori nodded, staring at his feet, still pulling feebly at his arms and breathing rapidly.

“Sorry,” he muttered, and at some unseen motion from Brian, the other zombies let his arms go. Lori gently dropped to his knees, arms over his stomach.

You are so pathetic.

“Shut up,” Lori muttered insistently, and he immediately noticed a change in the shuffling of feet around him.

“What the hell did you just say?”

Lori looked up, nothing short of terrified.

“Nothing – I wasn’t talking to you,” he said, quickly standing up. It hurt his stomach, so he bent slightly. Brian stared at him, clearly in disbelief.

Like he’s going to believe that one...

“Julie said you were smart... you sure aren’t acting like it,” he said quietly, removing his watch and letting it drop into his pocket. Lori took a step back.

“Brian – I don’t want to fight you,” he muttered. Somewhere in his head, Laertes was muttering in Latin.

“You don’t? ‘Cause I think a second ago you just told me to shut up.”

“No – I wasn’t – ”

“Grab him,” Brian ordered, and Lori felt his arms seized again. His stomach contracted once more, and his head chose the same moment to receive another wave of pain, as it had been doing all week. “Time for another lesson, Lori.”

The vampire lifted his chin.

“Wrong name, fool.”

***

Laertes grinned as the human muttered something. Whatever that meant. Wasn’t important at all, was it? He neatly tore his right arm free, feeling his mortal muscles burn from the effort. This body was so pathetic.

Deftly he jammed his fingers into the fleshy crevice under another human’s chin. That one dropped like a ragdoll, as expected. Laertes let out a cackle, feeling his sore stomach clench and his lungs burn. It felt like fire, sure, but it felt alive. He smiled wickedly, grasping a handful of human hair. He bent the next one over with relative ease, then drove his bony knee into the human’s stomach. That one dropped as well; two down.

He felt his left arm being released and neatly slipped it free, like a dancer from his partner. Still dance-like but with a viciousness the humans hadn’t expected, he turned a practised round-house kick into the face of another human, who didn’t end up looking any less vacant than before, really. He smiled at the remaining two, labcoat settling about him.

“Only five on one? Did you really expect to win? Even starving, you’re only boys,” he gloated, a grin still playing about his lips. One of the boys fled. The last one – this ‘Brian’ – was apparently too dull for such a decision, and stood his ground instead. Or, “Did I catch you flat-footed?”

Brian opened his mouth, staring.

“How did you do that?”

“Gracefully,” Laertes supplied lowly, hearing his rich voice escape his lips as that of the too-kind Irish boy. He sighed, “Artfully, like a dancer. Wickedly. Neatly. Carefully. Oh, so carefully. Purposefully, of course. Oh so easily.”

“But... but you’re...”

“I am your undertaker,” Laertes said with a falsely pleasant smile. “I am your maker and your unmaker. You, mortal, are my dinner.”

“Wh – what?” Brian stammered, completely at a loss. Laertes strode towards him, already feeling his muscles burning. He’d exerted them too much, far past what they were used to. But for now he had to ignore that – this was food, after all. The human could deal with his woeful aches and pains later.

Laertes held Brian’s eyes, and the human didn’t move – as expected. In moments he was close enough to grab the boy’s pants – and damn him for not wearing a shirt, it was cold! Laertes pressed himself against the body before him, certain his own clothing would be covered in this boy’s fake blood. What annoyed him even more than that was the fact that Brian was a fair bit taller than him – or was this new body just sadly short? He raised himself up onto his tiptoes.

“Mmmmmm I can smell your fear, you know that?” he murmured, gently brushing Brian’s hair away from his neck. The human’s strong neck tilted his head away from Laertes’ touch, and the vampire merely smiled. “Practically taste you...”

“What the hell are you – ?” Brian began, but was cut short by his own strangled whimper as Laertes bit. Hot. Salty. Oh, how he had waited. He felt Brian’s hands against his chest – trying to push away, maybe? Whatever. It was a pitiable effort worth little more than the reward it earned; Laertes moaned.

The human eventually stopped struggling at all, an effect of his saliva, Laertes knew, as it functioned as a weak tranquiliser. When Brian’s legs stopped moving completely, the blood would settle there, and the human would fall, he knew. He prepared to let go, recalling many friends and enemies who had broken teeth by being too greedy.

Brian didn’t disappoint, and soon his knees gave way. Laertes let him go, watching as the human rather unceremoniously crumpled into the side of the school building. He knelt, feeling roughly for the boy’s weak pulse, but before he could find another decent spot to bite, a door opened somewhere, letting light flood into the schoolyard. Laertes looked up as two girls exited from the school’s front doors. Was the dance over already? Couldn’t be...

Laertes stood.

“Push my luck, or not push my luck..?” he muttered aloud, looking about himself. One of the other humans was already stirring – apparently he needed to practise his technique. Quietly he knelt next to Brian and pinched very hard at the human’s neck around where he’d bitten. Blood squeezed out of the small holes and trickled off the boy’s neck. It was a waste, but it had to be done. After roughly pinching several times Laertes stood up again, knowing the area would soon be so bruised that the bite marks would be unrecognizable except by a doctor – and who the hell would dare tell that story at a hospital? He smiled, flipping the lab coat off his shoulders as he walked away.

Time to play, while the night was still young.