Free Vampires! A Bundle of Bloodsuckers by Lynda Hilburn Page A

tossed onto the table and spread out a stack of photos.
    “Don’t play dumb. You’re obviously not yourself.” Elliott shifted his eyes to the images. “Wow. Who’s that?” He pointed to the top photo showing a woman dressed like a scantily clad bloodsucker.
    Devereux rearranged several photos. “I am selecting employee costumes for the club Halloween party.”
    Laurence shuffled through the pictures, recovering the one with the almost-nude woman. “I choose this one. I think Luna would look wonderful dressed – er, undressed – like this.”
    Devereux shook his head. “Good luck with that. It is hard enough to keep her from accidentally dismembering customers who grope her through her usual clothing. All hope would be lost if she were forced to wear a thong.” He pushed the photos away and heaved another deep sigh. “I used to enjoy this process, but this year it feels tedious.”
    “You’re making my point.” Laurence retrieved the photo. “Everybody knows something is wrong with you. You’re listless. All work and no play. The three of us have known each other forever – almost literally forever – and we know when you’re closing down. When’s the last time you went on a spree?”
    “A spree?” Devereux said, his voice dripping disgust. “Don’t insult me with euphemisms. Let us call it what it really is: a killing spree, the execution of captive humans by vampires. It is barbaric.”
    “On the contrary,” Laurence replied with a shrug. “It is one of the last bastions of the natural order of things.”
    “Natural order? You think invading an isolated island prison and draining several of the human inmates is something to be celebrated? A worthy competition?” Devereux stared hard at his companions. “And you think there is something wrong with me ?”
    “Since when have you become the protector of the mortals? Super-Vampire to the rescue?” Elliott picked through the photos again.
    Devereux said, sadly, “I am not protecting them. I am protecting us. After every one of those events, the human internet explodes with rumors of vampires. Somehow the word spreads, even after the memories of the survivors are altered. We now live in a very small world and every decision affects the future. And besides, it is simply asinine. Why kill caged mortals when there are so many willing donors?”
    “See?” Laurence said and slapped his hand on the table. “Now I’m really concerned about you – and the fact that you don’t remember how glorious it feels to feed through the kill. I think you need to get back to your primal roots, my friend.”
    Devereux dropped his head against the top of the cushion again. “I clearly remember my primal roots, thank you very much. I have worked hard to evolve, to be more than my primitive urges.”
    “Well, we’ll simply have to agree to disagree,” Elliott said, holding up a photo of a naked, well-endowed, orange-painted woman. He slid his finger across the model’s cleavage and grinned. “Most of us don’t share your enlightened views. Nothing will ever be better than fresh, fear-infused human blood. But there’s an equally important primal urge you definitely need to get back in touch with. And we’ve taken care of it. Tell him, Laurence.”
    “Tell me what?” Devereux asked, with no real interest.
    “We were talking to Charlie Dickens when he was in here a few weeks ago about that little story he wrote back in the 1800s – the one about the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future. And it gave us an outstanding idea.”
    “What idea?” Devereux opened one eye.
    “Wait,” Elliott said, “don’t forget the other part – that show we saw on TV about a bachelor choosing from among several women who were competing for his affections.”
    “Right,” Laurence agreed. “It was a combination of both those things.”
    “What was?” Devereux opened his other eye, beginning to get suspicious.
    “We’ve set you up with three enticing