"Madam, are you aware you just shoved a sizable stake through my heart!"

I found this to be a most peculiar question since I had — in fact — just slammed that sucker home. Perhaps I’d located the only halfwit Vampire in town to go up against for my first time as an officially sanctioned Slayer of the Holy Order of St. Vlad. It would certainly explain how easily I’d taken the dirty bloodsucker down. Not to say I’m not a fantastic Slayer, but this being my first night on the job I doubted it resulted from anything but dumb luck with a smattering of innate skill. Then again the stupid Vampire theory could prove to blow that out of the water but I didn’t want to focus on that aspect. It was time to focus on the important issue. I'd just taken down a flipping Vampire not three hours out of the gate!

The euphoria from that alone would quell the little voices pointing out all my inadequacies.

Oops, I had better get back to the Vampire. He was getting a little squirmy. Sitting back on his rock hard stomach, I gave the stake another tap in hopes that the vamp would get the idea he should be dead by now. Or, at the least, stop mumbling obscenities about me under his breath.

Note to self: Try not to think about the rock hard abs or the pokey thing tapping at my back door that was not a stake but just as hard. Both were distracting me, and quite frankly, Slayers shouldn’t be thinking about jumping a Vampire’s bones, especially when they’re in the process of killing them.

"Ouch! That friggin’ hurt!" He slapped at my hands as I added a twist and spin to my tap-taptap.

Maybe next time I should bring a rubber mallet or something. The threat of carpal-tunnel haunted the careers of many a promising Slayer, and unfortunately wasn’t covered under our current health plan. If we had a union, this wouldn’t be an issue, but serving a higher good came with certain drawbacks. An inadequate health plan being one of them.

"I should hope so," I growled through clenched teeth as I tried not to lose my seat. "I’d hate to think I staked you only to have you enjoy the experience." But with creatures of the night, you really couldn’t be sure. They sucked blood. Who knew what kind of freaky crap they might be into?

Watching him squirm around, I found the lack of him turning to smoke — or a decent pile of ash— disconcerting to say the least. This being my first time actually slaying, I hated to admit it, but I could have missed the heart. You’ll understand if my nerves weren’t all they should be at the moment.

Training aside, being this close to a real live vamp had my knees knocking a Tommy-Lee-worthy drum solo. The fact he looked so normal threw me, too. If he had the common decency to look icky, I’d at least know to start screaming my head off. Instead he looked like a cover model. The only thing I was truly afraid of was throwing my legs open and saying "Take me!", which would kill any chance I had to get First Time Slayer of the Month. Not that I expected to have that honor, but you got a spiffy trophy and a gift card to Starbucks.

Back to work. I gave the wooden missile a good shake, waiting to see if it might pierce an artery, or at the very least, puncture something other than my hopes and dreams. In my defense, the textbooks never actually said what part of the heart you needed to hit. For all I knew, you had to wiggle the thing around until the heart turned all soggy and squishy. Or, maybe using ash had been a big mistake. I’d always thought a good piece of maple did the trick, but the guild only pays for ash. Until I got a few paychecks behind me, I was a slave to The Man. For all I knew a stake took a while to work, like when you take an antacid. Those things take for-friggin’-ever to work. As much as I hated it, I’d just have to stick around until he died. Bummer, Idol went into the final round tonight.

"Would you please stop doing that? A stake through the heart won’t work," the Vampire whined, not that I believed him for one minute.

"I’m pretty sure it does. All the books say so." He wouldn’t fool me with some weak-ass mind trick. Vampires are notorious for trying crap like that. I’d just have to wiggle it some more.

"Okay, I’m through playing Mr. Nice Guy."Before I could put my wiggle into action, the Vampire tossed me into the air. I twisted my body, trying to do one of those reverses the professors said were so easy a six-year-old could do them.

Needless to say, it wasn’t. I managed a passable look over the shoulder, but that didn’t stop me from going the opposite direction of where I wanted to go. Sailing through space is not as delightful as it sounds, especially the hitting the ground part, which explained the bruise I knew had to be forming over my left eye. The imprint of cheap linoleum sooo didn’t match the textural definition of my wardrobe.

Fortunately, three years of training equipped me with the stamina I needed to recover. Well, it helped me stagger to my feet without dotting the other side of my face with a crappy flower pattern. I kept my feet under me at least. As it was I was lucky I caught my balance before the fiend had the chance to get away. Thanks to my amateurish handling of the situation, he’d made it to the door. Speed wouldn’t help him. My skills with a crossbow had earned me many awards, including Grand Champion Marksman three years in a row. If the first stake didn’t work, I’d just try another. Dad always expounded the virtue of two stakes in the heart were better than one to anyone who cared to listen. Or, were trapped by the confines of a legally binding birth certificate.

The crossbow rocked against my shoulder as the bolt flew — yet another future bruise to thank Mr. Fangy for. The vamp already had the door open when the arrow struck him right between the shoulder blades. Not a direct heart shot, but good enough to throw him into the doorjamb and back intothe room. That was one escape he could kiss goodbye.

Tossing the useless weapon aside, I pulled a silver tipped blade from the sheath strapped to my thigh and dashed across the room. With his hand propped up on the doorjamb for leverage, the Vampire struggled to rise, but I moved faster. By the time he’d made it to his feet, my silver friend began its downward stroke.

I let fly a semi-hysterical giggle as I smelled the scent of my first kill, only to have it just as quickly taken away. Vampy twisted out of my way and the blade slashed harmlessly through his jacket. His move forced him into an impossible position, one he quickly reversed. Instead of going over him,my weight carried me right into his waiting arms. I tried vainly to twist out of the way, but his steely arms clamped around me preventing me from doing anything but melt against him.

It didn’t matter how nice his broad chest felt against me or the way being there made my tingly parts all… well… more tingly. And they were quite tingly. Nothing could change the fact I found myself at the mercy of a Prince of the Undead. Unlike some of my weaker co-workers — not naming any names but Joe Sidesburn knows who I’m talking about — I wouldn’t go out without a fight. The blood-sucking fiend might claim my life, but by God, the Vampire wouldn’t take my soul!

An option on my body was still up for grabs… or a tickle or two. I might have acquiesced nonetoo-gently to a lecherous fondle, even an unlecherous fondle would have been acceptable. What can I say? Slaying seemed to have brought out my inner slut.

Several moments of struggling forced me to rethink my bravado. I knew in theory Vampires were incredibly strong. Cuddle-bunnied in the arms of one told me incredibly strong didn’t begin to cover it. It felt like I’d just got engaged to an anaconda. If I didn’t figure out a way to leave him at the altar and soon, I’d end up a big heaping slab of Vampire toast. Unless a radioactive spider came along, I might as well get ready for that all liquid diet to end all diets. I’m not talking about SlimFast until I fit into a size none-of-your-damned-business again. Not likely to happen, but a girl can dream.

"Okay, you’ve won. Do your worst, but even though you will in all likelihood make me your undead sex slave, I will fight you with every maggoty filled breath you leave me." Great speech, maybe they’ll put it on my tombstone.

"Cut that out!" His gravelly voice snarled into my ear.

"I will not, if you’re going to turn me into a creature of the night I deserve to rail against the injustice of my plight."

"It’s not your railing that concerns me, but could you possibly try to be less Shakespearian about it? The last time I heard such a melodramatic display, we hung the actor and guillotined the director."

How rude could you get? Bad enough he planned to do me soul wrenching bodily harm, but to belittle my dying words before he ended my perky blonde life? I’d never live down the infamy. Thankfully, I’d be dead and not in need of therapy as a result. "Just get it over." Flinging my head back, I bared my neck to his Vampire kiss. "I just hope your fangs get a rotting case of gingivitis for damning me to become a blood-sucking fiend."

"Sorry to disillusion you, darling, but you’re not my blood type," he said, dropping me unceremoniously to the floor with a less-than-feminine grunt on my part.

I’m not ashamed to admit I sat there on the floor in complete befuddlement. Not his blood type? What the hell did that mean? He was a Vampire. Anything with a positive and a negative in front of it fit his type.

What if I had some incurable disease and he didn’t want to catch it? I could have Mono. Okay, who have I kissed in the past six weeks? Uh, nobody. I tried not to think about all the whos and whoms I haven’t kissed. Slayers don’t tend to date much. At least this one didn’t. On the flipside, I unequivocally refused to think my blood might not be good enough for a Vampire to suck.

Turning my head to inform him of that fact, I caught him performing open-heart surgery on himself. Ick!  With a grunt, the Vampire pulled the stake from the center of his chest with a wet pop. Never saw one come out, and I quickly reminded myself not to watch it again. Even with my advanced Slayer training, it took everything I had not to upchuck myself to death.

Still, I couldn’t stop watching the train wreck. My eyes were glued to the sight of him twirling the bloody stake while poking at the gaping hole like it should have instantly healed up. All the thing did was just oozed more blood. Can I get another ick from the audience?

That proved it! He needed blood and mine wasn’t good enough for Mr. High-and-Mighty Bloodsucker. Let him wait around for a better class of donor if he wanted to, because I wouldn’t be anybody’s second choice.

Suddenly, a bigger question occurred to me. As a Slayer with a wounded and dying Vampire standing not ten feet from me, why didn’t I just head over there and finish the job? His dazzling good looks aside, my brain refused to come up with an answer. I’d been zapped with the Vampire mojo. It was the only thing that made sense.

When this night began, I’d been on the hunt for a Vampire stalking the mean streets of New Orleans. Contrary to what I thought at the beginning of this whole debacle, the last few minutes had convinced me that while this guy might be a vamp, he might not be the vamp I’d been sent out to find.

For one thing, my neck didn’t have two holes in it and he hadn’t made me drink blood from anyplacegross , like there was any other kind. Drinking blood kinda implied gross by definition. Slowly getting to my feet, I pondered the outbreak of insanity on my part. The only good vamp was a… Oh please don’t make me spout the rest of that tired cliché.

He raised his head just enough to peer at me with those dazzling emerald eyes, effectively giving me a shiver that told me whatever I thought, he still amounted to one big helping of trouble. Instead of stopping right there and getting my crossbow, I walked up to where he sat and dropped to my knees in front of him. His face sat even with mine but I saw no malicious tendencies behind his tired looking eyes. For lack of a better term, he looked sort of resigned and maybe a little peeved, but nothing screamed kill it quick!

My bubble brained mouth opened before I could stop it. "Uh… So does that hurt?"

He rolled his eyes, and not in that I’m about to die way I’d hoped to finally see. "No, I always like to ooze blood from a gaping hole because it’s so orgasmic."

"Good, I’d hate to think you couldn’t handle a little pain." He wasn’t the only one who could display a higher level of snark when the situation demanded it.

"A little pain? A little pain! Lady, let me shove a stake in your chest and see if you still want to call this a little pain." The look on his face told me I should have kept my sarcasm to myself.

"It’s what you get for drinking the blood of innocents instead of dying like any upstanding human would have done in your situation. And speaking of which, why aren’t you dead? I mean, a stake in the heart generally does the trick."

Well, it did.

"And where did you discover that priceless bit of knowledge?" he growled.

"Movies, comic books and the textbooks at school all agree staking is the only sure way to kill a Vampire," I said with a decisive nod. I thought for a minute. "Unless you count beheading, burning, and a good soak in holy water."

"Well, they’re wrong, and none of those other things work either, except for the burning. That works whether you’re human or Vampire," he sighed.

"How can you be so sure?" I mean, I’d be pretty stupid to take his word for it without some evidence to back it up.

"Because, you stupid bitch, I’m not frigging dead!" he screamed.

"Well there is that, but you could be an exception."

"Are you always so hardheaded, or were you saving it all up for me?" The Vampire fell back into the chair with a disgusted harrumph throwing a cloud of dust into the deserted storeroom.

"You know for a Vampire, you sure do whine a lot. I’m just doing my job here. There’s no reason to get huffy about it."

"Excuse me, but having some crazy woman chase me through an alley to a deserted building only to shoot me not once — but twice — tends to make me a bit edgy." The snide comment may have affected a lesser person, but I chose to rise above his snarkiness.

"Since you’re not going to die like a good Vampire and your attitude tells me you’re not even going to try to be nice about it, maybe you’d like to tell me why you were skulking around the scene of five murders?" I might have felt sorry for the guy, but I still had a First Time Slayer Award to think about.

"I was looking for the killer, you silly twit. That’s my job!"

Totally confused now. A Vampire Vampire Slayer? That definitely hadn’t been covered in the handbook.