Free The Fertile Vampire by Karen Ranney Page A

told but Miss Renfrew believed your knowledge was severely lacking.”  
    I was not buying that the rest of the world knew about werewolves. Vampires, yes, because they’d had to come out of the closet.  
    Since the government started obtaining people’s health records, they began compiling a database of DNA profiles. One stockbroker’s - Target One, as he was called - profile perfectly matched that of a man who’d recently died at the age of ninety-eight. Since DNA is individual, like fingerprints, eyebrows were raised. By the time the probe was finished, over ten thousand vampires were forced to admit their status.  
    But werewolves?  
    Nope, if there were werewolves, capitalism wouldn’t be far behind.  
    As it was, there were enough commercials for vampire products.  
    Need to keep those fangs looking new? Bright and Sharp, the only toothpaste you’ll ever need.  
    Pas-true, our new blend of cow and sheep blood, pasture raised with no antibiotics - for the discerning vampire. That one was hosted by the guy who did the Mexican beer commercials. His melodic voice almost had me racing out to buy some of the stuff and I can’t stand the taste of blood.  
    So far, there were no commercials offering resorts to the furry. Need a place to unwind during the full moon? Come to the Lunar Mountain Retreat where you’re free to explore the wilderness. Lean-tos filled with clothing furnished for those embarrassing mornings after. Grooming essentials of long toothed combs and wipes provided.
    Any self-respecting entrepreneur would have jumped at the chance to sell to werewolves. They could also market to humans:  
    Anxious about the full moon? Wondering about your neighbor? Thinking your boss’s ankles are starting to itch? Wear the full moon pendant, made of one hundred percent guaranteed pure sterling silver for those nights you’re forced to be out. This emblem will protect you against the creatures of the night, make a fashion statement and show you’re aware of the changing nature of today’s culturally diverse society.  
      If the world knew about werewolves, I would have known about werewolves.  
    “So they’re real?”  
    He nodded.  
    I leaned my head back and stared at the ceiling. “Am I going to start sparkling any time soon?”  
    “Pardon?”  
    I waved my hand in the air, erasing the question.  
    “Do you do a ceremony with werewolves, too?” I asked. “You know, the one about asking me about God and that stuff?”  
    “The trial? That is handled by their packs. I only preside over newly made Kindred.”  
    “You’re a Master,” I said, remembering what someone at dinner had said. “Why are you mentoring me?”  
    This time, he was going to answer me.  
    He shook his head, still standing in front of me. I pointed to a chair and he raised one eyebrow. Evidently, one did not point to Il Duce. Still, he sat.  
    “I asked for you.”  
    Well, that was a surprise.  
    “Why?”  
    I wondered if I truly wanted to know. There were so many revelations I could take in one night and I’d about reached my limit.  
    “Do you wish to know about the other Brethren?”  
    I took another swig of wine, wishing I could get snockered. Alas, Poor Yorick, thou art doomed to sobriety.  
    “Brethren?” I finally said.  
    He crossed one leg over the other and sat back in my chair, managing to dominate my living room.  
    “You didn’t think vampires and werewolves were the only ones?”  
    Well, hell, yeah.  
    I pointed my finger at him, drew tight circles in the air, then pushed through them. Take that.  
    Maybe I was feeling the wine a tiny bit.  
    “There are more supernatural creatures in the world, Marcie, than mortals. We outnumber them.”  
    “Insects.”  
    “Pardon?”
    “There are millions more insects than there are human beings. So, you’ve just described insects. Tiny little vampires with transparent wings. Werewolf cockroaches. Bees. What would bees be?”