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Excerpt from BLOOD AND SOUL 3: VAMPIRE GUARDIAN by Kate Hill
(Available now from Changeling Press in the Blood and Soul collection.)
Releasing a slow breath, Woodrow grasped his cane, the handle molded into the shape of a snake, and left his room. Even before he reached the club's foyer, he heard the bouncer and Herb arguing. The distinctive scent of a mortal in the process of the change hung heavily on the air.
"I do not know or care who you are," said Onan, a stern old vampire in charge of security at Burgundy Peak. Onan and Woodrow shared the same vampiric creator, Master Zigor, the club's owner. "You will remove that woman from here immediately."
"Listen, I know Woodrow is here. I need to talk to him."
Woodrow joined them in the foyer. "It's all right, Onan. I know him."
"You know the rules. The Master allows no changes to take place here without special arrangement. We don't want it to get out that Burgundy Peak is the place for vampires to bring their mistakes to die."
"Woodrow, please." Herb's voice rose in his panic. "You have to help me. I really screwed this up."
"She smells normal enough. Onan, how does she look?"
"I've seen worse."
"Master, please!"
Herb must have been frantic to address Woodrow in such an ancient term. Unlike his own Master, Woodrow had never demanded his children call him by such an inflated title. Still, he told all his children stories of the ancient Masters, of the respect they demanded and the power they wielded. Herb only called Woodrow Master when he wanted something outrageous.
"This girl is going to die if you don't help me."
"She might die anyway. You know there are never guarantees that a mortal will survive the transformation, especially if the creator is inexperienced."
"This is my first try. I think I did something wrong."
"I cannot allow you to stand here in the foyer carrying that mortal," Onan said.
"Please, please help me. At least for her sake."
Woodrow's jaw tightened and he scolded himself for being a fool. "You may bring her to my room. Onan, I will talk to Master Zigor about our problem."
"Very well."
Herb, toting the woman, followed Woodrow upstairs.
"Put her on the bed."
Woodrow approached the mortal and placed a hand on her sweaty forehead. "Fever is perfectly normal at this stage. Go in the bathroom and get a cool cloth. How is her color?"
"White as a sheet."
"That means you didn't give her enough of your own blood."
"Not enough? It felt like she damn near drained me dry."
"Some require more blood than others. You need to give her more right now."
"Can't we just get her some from the bar downstairs?"
"No. Until she is a full vampire, any blood but yours will kill her. Don't you remember me telling you that?"
"Yes. Sorry. I'm in panic mode."
"Then you should not have attempted this delicate procedure until you were ready."
The scent of Herb's blood filled the room, so Woodrow knew he was forcing the girl to drink.
"I thought I could handle it. She was so good looking, you know, and so horny. I figured I could go ahead and give it a shot."
"Good looking and horny." Woodrow didn't bother keeping the disgust from his voice. "She means nothing more to you?"
"How could she? I just met her tonight."
"You idiot! You have bound yourself to a woman you don't even know? You have made her a vampire. Tell me, what sort of vampire will she be? Can she handle the power? Will she even want it?"
"Oh, yeah. She wants it. I asked her before I went ahead and did it."
"Thank you for small favors." Woodrow cracked his cane across the back of Herb's head.
"Ouch! Damn it, Woodrow, how come you always know exactly where to hit me even though you're blind?"
"Experience. Have you thought about how you plan to teach this girl about what she has become? When you change someone, you know they'll be with you for a decade at the very least."
"That's another thing I wanted to ask you about."
Woodrow knew what was coming next and he rebelled with every fiber of his being. "No way, Herb. You got yourself into this mess, and I will not get you out of it. It is enough that I care for my own children. Now you must care for yours."
"Speaking of your children, when you changed us, how did you know if you gave us enough blood if you couldn't see us?"
"By scent. I note the subtle differences throughout the change. I could not judge your friend because I didn't know what her scent was like before the change began."
"Always have an answer for everything, don't you, Master?"
"Stop calling me that. You only become respectful when you want something."
"Woodrow," Onan called from outside the door. "The Master wants to see you now."
"I need to explain this and ask permission for you and her to stay." Woodrow walked toward the door. "Keep washing her with the cool cloth and if she goes into spasms, see that she doesn't ruin the room."
"Spasms!"
"Is that another of my lessons you seem to have forgotten?"
"Has she had enough of my blood yet?"
"How is her color?"
"Her face is flushed."
"Then she's had enough."
"Woodrow?"
"What?"
"Thank you."
Growling with annoyance, Woodrow stepped into the hall and slammed the door behind him.
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