That was my favorite part as the Enforcer of the Blood Demons; the part when I poured all my Damien fury on one of his disciples.
Anyway, back to the treaty I couldn’t give a fuck less about.
Vamps, shifters and demons co-lived inpeace. We were all allowed to hunt. No interference from enemy clans; beasts and bloodsuckers didn’t kill each other anymore even though they yearned for it. And demons…well, we kept to ourselves. We had enough humans to feed on their negative emotions to sustain us for an eternity. No need to pick on the creatures of night. They had already bought their one way ticket to hell. If they were anything, they were homies.
But the hunt had rules.
No kids. No families. No human meal more than once a week, preferably a low life.
The rules were of high morals—as high as our morals could get—but easy to apply. There were enough wildlife and psycho loners to give the bloodsuckers and the beasts what they needed to survive.
Why mess with a schoolboy? Prefer them young? Have a baby gazelle, fuckface.
“Venom… Sire… Venom,” the kid hallucinated, his eyes barely open.
Mad Dog and I had tied him to a tree and stretched his legs on the ground while we waited for Prez and the brothers to arrive. The V-shaped bite marks on the boy’s neck were getting green, which meant he needed blood to turn into a bloodsucker or he’d die.
There were three kinds of vampire bites. The foreplay bite: just a taste to tease the vamp while getting a human high and horny. The dead bite: a cutthroat slash that drained the human out, leaving them corpses without any life left to help them turn. And the sire bite, like Venom’s. The fucker had drained half the boy’s blood and left him to fissure so the boy would seek him out for a feed and turn into a vampire himself.
More of a servant for his maker.
When a vamp did the sire bite, they made this connection with the bitten, sort of a claim. I made you, now you were mine.
Normally, the human woke up dazed, like they had been in a dream, knowing nothing but their maker’s name and the urge to feed from them.
Decent vamps, if that was even a thing, didn’t leave their turnees like that. They waited for the bite haze to fade, fed them and taught them how to survive. They took their claims in.
But Venom loved to torture his turnees and watch them suffer. Even when they were fully turned and ready to serve him, he didn’t take them in or treat them any better.
A piece of shit that had to be shoved and buried down the stinkiest sewer.
You make something, you take care of it. End of story.
I gazed at the fucked up kid, sweat covering his pale face. I was like him once. Deranged and lost. Not physically, but on the inside I was a hot mess. Until I met Prez.
Ex-military. Owned the bar I rode to that night to feed on the emotions of miserable drunks and whisper in their ears to end their or their friends’ useless lives. When I’d walked in, I could smell the blood of the hot brunette behind the bar off him. He knew what I was, and I did, too. So he bought me a drink on the house and got me talking.
He’s had the pleasure of meeting my father and despised him as much as I did. Slasher told me everything about the Blood Demons that night. Their business. Their purpose.
To save the devil’s victims and rejects.
He cleaned the streets from fuckers like Venom and took in their helpless prey.
It sounded too good to be true coming from a vampire, but I took my chances and prospected for the club. I had nowhere else to go or belong. And every day, he’d proven to me I’d made the right decision.
That was why I liked Slasher. He took care of his own vampires or not. Like he did with Dasher. And me.
With Slasher, I had finally found my place in life as Inferno, the Enforcer of the Blood Demons.
“Hey, where the fuck are you, Bro?” Mad Dog hollered.
I blinked, almost forgetting he was leaning against his bike next to mine. “Here.”
“No.” He chuckled. “What’s up with you motherfucker?”
If I told him, he’d laugh at me. Nobody expected feelings from the demon Enforcer. “I want to go back to school,” I joked.
He slapped the back of his head, his blond hair falling to his forehead. “Fuck me. You too?”
