Mated to the Mafioso

[ 15 ] - Shot in the Dark

"Andrea. Andrea...?"

She snaps out of it, shaking her head, looking towards me. "You okay? We're here. You—" zoned out. Completely. It was like she was falling into a nap, yet remained sitting, ready.

"Yeah. I'm good." she says, a little shakily.

I don't have time to make sure she's okay.

"Alright—stay here. Lau's gonna keep watch of you, and the car, while I head inside." I tell Andrea, slipping out of the car, shutting the door. It clicks—locks. Good. I step a little away, just to make sure I'm out of earshot, and I reach into the backpack. Gun, loaded with silver and lead bullets—check. Specialized weaponry—check. I got a mini crossbow that's loaded with wooden splinters; holy water sprayers; rosary beads. Some vials with potions. And, of course, the human stuff—taser, smoke bomb.

The vampire stuff will be useful today. I pull out the mini crossbow, make my necklace—the cornicello, the mini golden cross—visible.

Goddamn bloodsuckers.

The restaurant's down the road. I start walking, quickly, and re-dial my cousin. "Update?"

"Yeah—they'se holdin' the customers captive. Already killed two a' the line cooks n' turned a human customer. Louie told me; he's in there, tryin' to negotiate."

"What do they want?"

"Revenge. They'se from Brooklyn; got that hipster New American shit restaurant called Foodie. Angry 'cause we set fire to their shipment two weeks ago, but they'se playin' dirty; they was stealin' our stuff first! We used to got a thing goin', but one of them got pissed when he didn't pay the vig from Pete. Guess livin' for hundreds of years don't make them any less stunad."

I'll be honest: I'm not sure why the vampire's seeking revenge, but asking Ed won't make anything clearer. I've grown up with him, and even though he's a bit older, I feel like I'm more the older cousin looking after the baby. Even now. "Sure. I'm almost here. How many men?"

"Two in the dining room, two in the kitchen. The turned customer's also'se goin' crazy. I'm in the storage room. When you get into the kitchen, holler—I'll join. But these old bones ain't what they used to be."

"Ed, you're thirty."

"Exactly!" he says a little too loudly, before dropping his voice. "Shit—hurry up, man..."

"I need backup—I'm not going against four, five, vampires..." I stop, sucking in a breath, looking around. Where the hell is the rest of the pack? "Where are they?"

"I texted Fang; he said he's on his way, but he's in the Bronx. He'll try to pass through one of the portals, but—"

The restaurant's wooden doors swing open. A vampire strides out; pale, dyed-white hair, barrel-chested, pistol in his left hand. He's half-stuck it into his too-tight pants.

I side-step, flatten myself against the wall. I'm two stores down from the family restaurant, Ferro III—too far to jump in. Too close to get far away, unseen.

I need to think. Across the street is a vendor selling cheap Italian merchandise; shirts, knockoff purses in the back. Tourists huddle around. I look to the right—Chinatown. More vendors, shops; a dim sum restaurant. Here, in this Little Italy, everything is cramped and tight. Outdoor dining, people sharing cannoli and gelato, surveying things to buy. There are lots of people...

Which makes me question just how visible the vampire's gonna make himself.

The store said it was closed; I spotted the sign. Nobody coming in or out. The wolf-soundproofed windows didn't make noise come in...but it didn't let any noise leave, either.