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I sigh and snatch the pliers from him, letting him grip the guy’s head while I pull. I yank his right incisor out, ensuring I get the whole damn thing, root and all, and dangle the two-inch long bloody fang in front of Monroe.
“You know what? Fuck it. Take both. He’s pissing me off, and I think it’s the last one we’ll need.” Monroe jerks the vampire’s head back again, pressing his thumb into the guy’s gum to force his remaining fang to click and extend fully. “He looks like a rip and spitter anyway. Look at the pattern of those blood stains. Such a fucking waste.”
I don’t look, keeping my gaze trained on his other fang. “Hold him tight.”
“Take a couple extra while you’re at it. Force him to be civilized or maybe turn him into a gummy.” Monroe chuckles at his own joke. The last thing I want to think about is him gumming a cock.
“You’re a psycho ass,” I mutter, gripping the man’s other fang. He bucks and tries to break free, but I’m too quick, yanking out his other incisor.
Monroe slides his gun from the prick’s mouth and whacks him hard on the head with it. We vanish from his shadowed shelter outside of the Ri and only slow down at the sight of the bald watchman at the door.
Monroe shakes the bag of fangs. “Let us in, asshole. I’m looking for Mesquite. Tell him some bastards from Bella want to make an arrangement.”
Flicking his gaze from the empty street and to Monroe, the fucker lifts an eyebrow but doesn’t respond.
I groan at the guy’s mistake.
Yanking a short sword from a holster on his shoulder, Monroe stabs the guy in the throat, surprising him. The bastard doesn’t even get a chance to open his mouth to try to scream as Monroe severs his head, dropping his body to the floor.
“Damn it. You think Ri will speak to us now?” I ask, kicking the guard’s body in the gut.
Laughing, Monroe swings the dripping head back and forth. “Guaranteed.”
I sigh and follow him inside the tall tower, lit up with neon lights. The casino chimes, but the place is nearly dead. Only a couple vampires sit at slots, and a man in nothing but a speedo strolls around, carrying a tray of blood to offer guests. I don’t know why this crew bothers. It’s nearly impossible to bring in vampires when the blood is watered down, the machines never pay, and the only benefit is getting out of the daylight. But this time of night? The guests here must have credit. It might be the only hotel still willing to give it.
Monroe releases a wolf-whistle. “Hey, Mesquite! Come fucking accept this damn gift I brought you!”
I straighten my back and peer around the casino, but no one comes rushing to greet us.
“Yo! Don’t make me pick another. You only have three assholes here. I doubt they’d even put up a fight.” Monroe races and stands behind a guy smacking buttons on a machine.
I shake my head, twisting my lips to the side. “Really?”
He shrugs. “If Mesquite doesn’t show his ugly mug in three, two—”
A figure blurs from the back of the casino, flying in our direction. I tense and unsheathe a dagger from a hidden holster in my leather jacket. Monroe and the guy blur in a fight, and I tap my fingers on the top of one of the machines.
It takes thirty seconds for Monroe to pin the short, buff vampire. He aims a knife at the guy’s heart and flashes his fangs.
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t cut your heart out and take control of this hotel?” Monroe narrows his eyes, glaring at Mesquite.
“Because the plumbing is shit, the top ten levels are trash, and I have twenty male donors and no females. But you know what? You can have this bullshit.” Mesquite grins with his words. “I’ll give you a rub and tug just to take it.”
Monroe breaks his glower and the two of them laugh and wrestle until Monroe helps Mesquite to his feet. I haven’t dealt with the guy much that I can remember of from the last century, but he’s right about this hotel being garbage. It’s worse than ours and still the same as the day it was taken over.
“Stop trying to seduce me, you asshole. Have you forgotten we share a blood bond? I don’t care if we’re on different crews now.” Monroe whacks the guy upside the head. “Plus, my cock has been claimed.”
“Finally giving in to the ass, huh?” Mesquite hollers a laugh at Monroe’s expression. With the female population down, and desperation for fun with something else that isn’t a damn hand, many male vampires have decided pleasure is pleasure. Hell, if you find a donor that doesn’t cut his hair, it’s easy to pretend, according to Walcott.
“Fuck no. Fifty years or a hundred, this horny bastard dies and falls limp at just the thought no matter how much I reason with the big guy.” Monroe cups his groin and shakes his junk through his pants.
Mesquite laughs harder, flashing his fangs with his smile. “Give it two hundred.”
“Don’t need to. I found my snake tamer. She’s fucking sexy as sin, talented, and will be my perfect little princess if we can manage to fucking put Aris in his damn place.” Monroe fists his hands, growling deep in his throat at the thought of the bastard.
Mesquite flicks his gaze to mine and back to his blood cousin twice removed. I knew Monroe had a relative on the Strip, but I hadn’t realized it was a crew head. Like with legitimate covens, crews don’t have members with blood bonds. It keeps power more even and stops bloodlines from dominating. Like donors were divided and separated from each other, so were vampires who were blood related in the back-world. All of my relatives were massacred in the first year of the Vampire Uprising after I was turned by a patient that I killed in defense, so it’s never really bothered me.
“You better not be fucking talking about Ruby Aris, you dickwad,” Mesquite says, flaring his nostrils. “I got an invitation an hour ago about an auction.”
