How Not to Vampire - Season 2

15. The Consequence of Laughing

Protip for Vampires #386: Do NOT fuck with the driver.

"I'd like to talk to Ibrahaim now," King demanded, trying to ignore the haphazard way his stretch limo whipped around the corner, complete with squealing brakes and the roar of an over-powered engine. He sat in the middle of the backseat while the rest of us passengers were trying to hang on or do our best imitation of tossed salad. I hated him at that point, mainly due to the aura of cool he tried to project as if he was better than the rest of us. Plus fundamental physics seem to didn't bother him that much. Smug bastard.

"Not gonna happen!" I snapped. The limo swerved violently again, and the remainder of my eloquently offensive answer was cut off as I was slammed facefirst into the closest window.

"Oh shiiiiiiiiit!" Sammy groaned as gravity firmly took hold of her. She grabbed the appropriately nicknamed "oh shit" handle above her head. Meredith wasn't so lucky and tumbled off her seat towards me, falling facefirst into my lap, which in other circumstances might have been hilarious.

"I'm going to murder your driver!" Sammy snarled.

I was contemplating whether or not to peel my face off the glass or leave it there to save time and effort when I realized I had a great view of the car chasing after us. Our pursuers drove a gigantic Cadillac SUV, which now caught up and raced beside us in the right-hand lane. Harry's happy henchmen had rolled down their windows, and instead of shooting at us, they made what were either obscene gestures or demands for us to pull over. Another huge black Cadillac rapidly closed the distance about three car lengths behind, reinforcements already on the scene. Bad guys brought to you by Cadillac, I thought wildly.

I should have been grateful that they didn't have motorcycles and uzis because then it would have gotten really exciting. It would be a level of excitement I couldn't devote my full attention to at the moment because Meredith's face was buried in my crotch. And yes, dammit, I somehow found the ability to have a boner in the middle of a car chase! Don't judge me!

"Goddammit, Bob!" King yelled from the backseat. "Let Ibrahaim take over so he can actually help us! We need a badass right now, not a you!"

Somewhere deep in my head, Ibrahaim, said badass and full-time resident brain parasite, went "wheeeee!" Bastard.

"Well fuck you too!" I yelled back, genuinely wounded. "I can be a badass!"

The stricken look on King's face said otherwise. "Oh, we are so fucked," King deadpanned.

"I don't know how he works," I admitted. "He usually takes over when I'm asleep or something! I don't know! It's been a really fucked up week, okay?"

"Figure it out then! We need him!" King implored, then we all hung on as the limo made a wide turn and almost immediately straightened out as we wound our way through the sporadic nighttime traffic.

"What the fuck are you even talking about?" Sammy finally snapped, then threw up her hands. "Wait! I don't fucking care because you're both fucking idiots!"

"He's got a point, Bob," Meredith pulled herself up and plopped onto the seat next to me with a saucy grin. She threw her bare leg over mine, the sweet smell of her musk threatening to overwhelm my senses, and yes, it was still inappropriate boner time. "Let Ibrahaim come out to play."

"And who the fuck is Ibrahaim?" Sammy yelled.

As a distraction and because I'd decided that King needed more attention of the negative variety from Sammy, I piped up. "In my defence, those guys don't even look like they want to kill us. They aren't even shooting at us. Are you sure Harry sent them?"