My Bad Boy Werewolf Quadrillionaire Space Lord

Luca's True Superpower

There are a lot of women out there who dream of what just happened to me. They dream of being accosted in the dark, and being claimed by a vampire. Of being the object and subject of passions that overwhelm reason as a rich, well-manicured creature of the night satisfies themselves.

They're obviously batshit crazy.

Admittedly, I did enjoy it. But only because the moment that pasty shit broke my skin and had my blood in his mouth, Jacoby Edwardo started convulsing like he had just won a billion dollars. His legs gave out, he thrashed limply on the street for just long enough that I could enjoy the sight, mouthed something suitably morose for a pasty emo hipster, and died.

"I did warn you," I said. For emphasis, I gave the dead fool's ribs a good kick, only to see his body give like I had just kicked a pillow. A puff of glitter shot into the air, and all that was left of Edwardo Jacoby or whatever he was called, was the designer jeans with the strategic rip, and the t-shirt likely made in a sweatshop billionaires keep for the sake of 21st-century nostalgia.

"Did he just turn into glitter?" One of the mercenaries asked. As she asked the question, she sprayed something on my neck and then applied some gauze.

"Well, I guess vampires do sparkle in daylight," I replied.

The other mercenary crouched down and put his finger into Jacoby Edwardo's now glittery remains. "Wow. That's actually body glitter. Like the stuff they use in strip clubs."

"And how would you know that?" The first mercenary asked.

"Because I had to wash your uniform when I had laundry detail," the other one remarked. He looked up at me from the glitter-corpse and said, "Go on back to the others."

I didn't need to be told twice. Other vampires had already begun to gather around the pile of body glitter, and more than a few of them looked like they were willing to slice me open. I hurried back to the others, just in time to see Alcuard take something that BIRD was holding in one foot.

It was a five-dollar bill. Alcuard pocketed it, and took another from Luca.

"So, I'm loving the chivalry and grandeur in this corner," I chided them. "Vi's totally off the hook, except for the fact that she came down in a Mech suit but didn't bring any guns. But neither of you supernatural creatures even lifted a finger to save me!"

"You weren't in any danger," Alcuard replied calmly. "If you were a virgin, that would have been different."

"Oh, so because I've been defiled I'm not worth it?" I scathed indignantly. I wasn't actually angry at the time. If Alcuard knew I'd be fine, the smart move really was to let it play out and get that appallingly named vampire killed off.

Alcuard at least had the decency to look sheepish, but Luca's smug grin was apparently impervious to any sort of self-reflection. "Izzy," Luca said. "Do you really doubt we'd be there to help you if you needed it?"

I sighed, annoyed that he went ahead and forestalled my indignation. "No," I admitted. "But you still didn't save me because I wasn't a virgin. I want that on the record."

"Looked at another way, your love life is too decadent for vampirism. The surest sign of being a real woman," Alcuard said.

"Ooh, that wasn't bad," Viviana said.

"Yeah, that was a pretty good line," I agreed.

"But how did you know Jacoby Edwardo would quote twilight in his death throes?" BIRD asked.

"I asked myself what would disappoint me most," Alcuard admitted.

"So BIRD," I asked the little robot. "Had your fill of ruining lives yet? Or do you need to cut Luca open and read his guts like tea leaves?"