Vampire Business

CHAPTER 1

“How many stakes does it take to kill a vampire?” 

“I don’t know, how many?” 

“Just the one, as long as it has enough garlic seasoning” 

It was a terrible joke for many reasons, not even including the fact that most vampires had long ago become impervious to garlic. A wooden stake made from certain trees was still the sure fire way to go about it but even sunlight was now mostly just bright and gruelling on the senses (an effect that could be assuaded with a Blessed Object, a magical item or one of those cutting-edge glasses that a few tech start-ups had concocted in their lairs). Omrikhi chuckled slightly out of politeness and mostly because he hadn’t actually heard that one before. 

“Did you spend all night coming up with that one Clar?” 

Clarissa adjusted her glasses and then ran the same fingers through her coppery-red hair. 

“I did actually Rikh, I was up all night crafting it for you.” her round glasses only accentuated the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. 

Friendly flirting had become a thing between them for a few years now and it had started when he had flashed his fangs intimidatingly in a dimly lit, near empty bar and she had blushed, misreading his intentions somehow. They had spoken a few times before that but it had been mostly professional, and it still was, though now punctuated with the occasional flirting. 

“See, that's time you could have spent studying for the NAMAT.” She laughed at this. She was in her late 30’s and had taken the North-American Magical Aptitude Test at least five times now and always fell short. Those that knew her however knew she was quite the talented Mage with a proficiency in protective charms and also West-African and Far-East Runology. 

“That test needs to study for me!” This time he laughed because she was right.

“You don’t even need it Clar. With the business you get, a certification would only slow you down.” This was true based on her volume and variety of clientele; reporting to the Magicarum Americo Societas was something that would only bog down her work in red-tape, review and rejections. She took a sip of her Summer-Snare Wine and nodded knowingly. 

“I’ve told you this before, but it's still a flex on its own to be able to drink Summer-Snare. It gives demons the runs so don't even get me started on what it does to vampires.” 

“That's kind of the point aint it. For my line of work it’s both practical and a statement piece in negotiations.” A completely despicable grin played on the edges of her lips, even as her innocent looking face showed it as a benign smile to the untrained (and non-vampiric) eye. 

“I can make some more for you. I know you secretly liked it the first time.” Her voice and intonation winked at him. She had to stop doing that. 

“I suppose I’m not completely against trying another batch. It did help me out of that kerfuffle down in Kagoshima. Showing up as a venomous creature on their sensors at the airport screening was well worth all the paperwork.” 

CHAPTER 2

In reality Omrikhi was 177 years young and trepidatious about the wine. Summer-Snare was a brew of poisons, toxins, venoms and banes expertly mixed in, processed and fermented with an addition of Saint’s Serum. If expertly made it was a sour and sought after drink that felt warm and cool at the same time but proved problematic to most malicious magical creatures. If Improperly made, which was almost always the case, It was a russian roulette in a bottle poorly disguised as a tonic; even for the humans it was originally made for. It was always specific to the clientele and specialty made from someone who’s skill you definitively trusted. Clarissa raked in a fair bit of money, and had gotten an apartment above the Five-Star bar where they were seated and drinking because she supplied the place with human-geared Summer-Snare. She was also available to make ones for the variety of Elves, Yokai, Leprechauns, Fawns, Grootslangs, Adze’s, Fairies, Dragons and others that frequented the Five-Star. 

“I’ll make some more for you free of charge because you seem so keen and addicted.” 

“What a delight you are. I’ll try to return the favour when I can. Which I suppose brings me to right now. Why did you call me over  anyway?” Omrikhi took a sip of his Were-Whiskey ready for whatever bombshell she was about to drop.

“That's pretty simple, I need a book returned.”

“That does sound pretty simple, what is the book? And also to whom and where?”

“The book you’ll soon find out anyway, for the rest, you're part of a team as my proxy and you’re returning the book to Oud Moorlatif the merchant.” Omrikhi took another sip of his Were-Whiskey after hearing that. 

“I’m just shy of 200 years old and you want me to return a stolen book to an ancient Djinn who is not known for his clemency toward thieves and intelopers?”

“Actually no one knows where he stands when it comes to thieves and intelopers. You could be fine.” Another sip of whiskey went down as Omrikhi called the bartender over with his almost finished whiskey. 

“No one knows because he disappears anyone involved in thieving and interloping. You want me to break into his residence and partake in whatever it was you got yourself involved with? With a team I don't even know?” 

“You’re a vampire, you should come alive in the shadows and revel in shadow related jobs and activity.” The bartender came over and with instruction, poured a full glass. 

“Thanks Somren.” They both intoned. Somren was a gentle soul and skilled bartender, a half-gorgon who part-timed at the bar. Somren nodded at them both and made himself scarce; his mohawk of blue Garter-Snakes writhing and whispering in Slither-Speak due to whatever agitated scents they were both giving off. Omrikhi and Clarissa went back to hissing at each other. 

“He’s out of town right now, at some kind of Djinn convention down in the South-Sudan. You’ll only have to deal with whatever security he has set up. And with protective charms and runes I have you covered, that's how I got in last time. I just need someone on par with me as a proxy otherwise my associates will feel short-changed.” 

“You haven’t mentioned pay, so I’m guessing it must be pretty good. And the rest must be other magically proficient individuals, but are they handy in a pinch?” Omrikhi didn't like that he was rationalising the whole endeavour. 

“If it helps put your mind at ease we have a Saint as well.” Omrikhi reached into his shirt and pulled out one of the medallions he had of the Vampire Saint Manusfeld. 

“I do need more Blessed objects. Okay then, let's talk some more.” 

Omrikhi downed the last of his drink and headed outside for a walk with Clarissa. It was better that way to prevent any scrying. The streets were practically empty at this time and they were almost at the intersection when a gaggle of gargoloids swooped down on them from the skies. Omrikhi heard their near silent wings and reacted in lightning fast fashion to dispatch the first few through their hidden hearths that he could sense through his heat vision. Clarissa whipped out her wand nearly as fast waving her wand in seemingly random motions, and without an accompanying magical phrase blue-green energy shot out of her wand and hit the remaining winged gargoloids, neutralising their animation spell. They all fell in a clump of mud and sticks. 

“They are coming for the book and you have it on you don’t you?”

“Yes they are coming for the book and its with me. Are you still up for this?” 

“Let's see how the night plays out but so far yes.”