Free Accidentally Married To...A Vampire? by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

it. He hoped.
    Niccolo held up his palm, signaling for the other men to stay put. He quickly found a set of narrow cement stairs and sifted part of the way down, remaining out of sight as he listened to the conversation and whimpering.
    One man, who the others referred to as Luis, was trying to defend his actions. “But as hard as I try, my victims only laugh at me when I show myself,” he sobbed. “How can any self-respecting vampire face himself knowing his food doesn’t take him seriously?”
    There was a low rumble of agreement from several voices in the room.
    “Luis!” Another male barked. “How many times do I have to tell you? Image is everything! You dress like a biology professor and speak like Mr. Rogers. Of course, they don’t fear you! You’re there to kill them, not….not—teach them the ABC’s!”
    Another whimper escaped from Luis’ mouth. “I know. I know,” he whined. “But I can’t bring myself to growl or wear leather pants. It’s just not…me.”
    No. Clearly he’s not cut out for such manly clothing. He’d be a disgrace throughout the lands to all vampires and other supernatural bad boys alike, thought Niccolo.
    “Luis,”—was it the leader, Franc, speaking?—“being an Obscuro is an honor. And if you’re not going to uphold our ways, then you’ll be demoted to a coffin boy or, if lucky, my manicurist.”
    Niccolo winced. That sounds low. A coffin boy was the equivalent of a human’s pool boy, but without the sexy connotation. And a vampire’s manicurist…well, let’s just say that if there were a Vampire Dirty Jobs show—Niccolo had watched a lot of television recently to acclimate quickly—being a vampire’s manicurist would be right up there with vampire dry cleaner.
    “No. Please, give me one more chance. I beg you. I can be evil. I can do it!” Luis argued.
    “All right, but I want to hear you growl like you mean it this time,” said their leader impatiently. “I want to hear you bring terror to my ears—like we showed you.”
    “Grrrr. I’m here to suck your blood,” Luis said sheepishly.
    Franc growled. “No! That’s not it at all. Say it like you really mean it! Grrr! I’m going to fucking drink your blood!”
    Evil vampire lessons? Niccolo crept up the stairs, shaking his head. He’d never heard such an oddity. He signaled the men to follow him outside. As soon as they’d gathered around, he told them what he’d heard, but instead of being disgusted by the undignified behavior, they looked at each other shamefully.
    “Am I missing something?” Niccolo whispered. Several awkward moments passed. “I demand you tell me.”
    Viktor whispered, “We—um—role play, too. It’s part of our HPT process.”
    Were these vampire soldiers off their undead rockers? “HPT? What is this?”
    “High Performance Teams. It’s a technique to build trust, motivate, and increase output.”
    “You know, sir,” one of the younger male vampires cut in. “We’re only as strong as our weakest link.”
    Niccolo’s men grumbled in agreement, nodding.
    Oh, for bloody heaven’s sake! What had the world of ruthless warrior vampires come to? Where were the ethics from the days of old? Only the strong survive. Dog eat dog. Carpe diem!
    Niccolo shrugged. “I cannot deny how well the team works together. I must look for the golden lining.”
    “That’s silver , Sir,” whispered Sentin.
    Niccolo frowned. This new English was very confusing. Any self-respecting vampire would want his coffin lined with gold—it was worth far more than silver. “Very well. I do not believe in coffins, anyway…On my count, we rush the room and take them out. I heard twelve voices below, evenly distributed throughout the room. Watch out for the humans they brought in earlier. They might be used as shields.”
    The men nodded. Niccolo counted down. Then they rushed back into the building toward the stairs. The room was dark, except for a few small candles burning in the center of the