Read Online The Mourning Woods - 03 by Rick Gualtieri - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rick Gualtieri
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imagine an overpriced SoHo stylist. We’re talking a grade-A, bad Inspector Clouseau imitation here.
“Not you,” I replied. “In fact, would you mind giving Sally and me a moment?”
“Impossible!” he spat in a prissy tone. “The color must be managed down to ze’ precise...”
“ GET OUT! ” I commanded. Compulsion was another thing Sally had been bugging me to practice. I hadn’t thought much of it before then, as I haven’t met too many vampires younger than I am. Still, I could see how it could come in handy.
Though my compulsion wasn’t nearly the strength of some others, it had the desired effect. Alfonzo’s eyes glazed over. He straightened up and, without another word, marched from the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Finally got that figured out?” Sally asked conversationally from where she still reclined.
“Thanks to you,” I replied. “Now if you’d be so kind, can you please explain Alfonzo?”
She raised her head to meet my gaze. “I already told you. He’s my stylist. He’s been doing my hair for years. Oh, the things that man can do to a scalp,” she said dreamily.
“Fascinating, I’m sure. And has Alfonzo always been a vampire?”
“No.”
“So you turned him?”
“Yep. That’s typically how it works.”
“WHY?” I screamed.
She looked at me innocently before answering, “I’ve been stressed and Alfonzo’s salon has been all booked up.”
“So you turned him into a vampire?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time. We’re still short on members and he does great work. You really should let him give you a manicure. Your nails are looking a little ratty. He is heaven with a file...”
“I don’t need a manicure. And who the fuck gave you permission to recruit new members?”
She just arched her eyebrows at me. In front of the others, I was in charge. Behind the scenes, though, Sally was on equal terms with me...maybe even slightly more than equal. Her look told me she wasn’t about to be intimidated.
Trying another tactic, I changed my tone. “Besides, weren’t you the one who told me that only the coven master could recruit? That there were rituals that needed to be respected?”
She appeared to consider this for a moment before blithely answering, “Yeah, but you said it yourself...those rituals are stupid.”
Damn, she had me there. There were formal rites that were supposed to be performed when one was accepted into a coven, but they were idiotic, not much better than a fraternity initiation. I had told Sally as much on more than one occasion, not considering that she would probably use my words against me. I should’ve known better. Sally is a rattlesnake in a size-four dress and three-inch heels.
“Besides,” she continued. “I thought you wanted to branch out from the typical muscle heads that Jeff used to recruit.”
Again, she had me. Jeff had been a spoiled, pretty-boy, douche bag asshole. As such, all the other males in the coven had likewise been of similar caliber. They and I had proven to be a bad mix. Thanks to the Khan’s assassins, however, there were now far fewer of them to contend with. That aside, though, I had been putting off active recruitment for the coven because...well, it just seemed like such a fucking evil thing to do. Sure there are plenty of goth weirdos who would jump at the chance to be moody for all of eternity, but I had envisioned a coven populated by a more normal, well-adjusted crowd. The problem is; how do you approach someone like that with the offer of “Hey, can I kill you so you can join my army of the undead?” Apparently, Sally wasn’t concerned with minor details such as this.
“Yes,” I said. “But that didn’t mean you had free rein to make someone your eternal slave just because they happen to do a passable job of covering up your roots.”
“I’ll have you know I’m a natural
“Not you,” I replied. “In fact, would you mind giving Sally and me a moment?”
“Impossible!” he spat in a prissy tone. “The color must be managed down to ze’ precise...”
“ GET OUT! ” I commanded. Compulsion was another thing Sally had been bugging me to practice. I hadn’t thought much of it before then, as I haven’t met too many vampires younger than I am. Still, I could see how it could come in handy.
Though my compulsion wasn’t nearly the strength of some others, it had the desired effect. Alfonzo’s eyes glazed over. He straightened up and, without another word, marched from the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Finally got that figured out?” Sally asked conversationally from where she still reclined.
“Thanks to you,” I replied. “Now if you’d be so kind, can you please explain Alfonzo?”
She raised her head to meet my gaze. “I already told you. He’s my stylist. He’s been doing my hair for years. Oh, the things that man can do to a scalp,” she said dreamily.
“Fascinating, I’m sure. And has Alfonzo always been a vampire?”
“No.”
“So you turned him?”
“Yep. That’s typically how it works.”
“WHY?” I screamed.
She looked at me innocently before answering, “I’ve been stressed and Alfonzo’s salon has been all booked up.”
“So you turned him into a vampire?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time. We’re still short on members and he does great work. You really should let him give you a manicure. Your nails are looking a little ratty. He is heaven with a file...”
“I don’t need a manicure. And who the fuck gave you permission to recruit new members?”
She just arched her eyebrows at me. In front of the others, I was in charge. Behind the scenes, though, Sally was on equal terms with me...maybe even slightly more than equal. Her look told me she wasn’t about to be intimidated.
Trying another tactic, I changed my tone. “Besides, weren’t you the one who told me that only the coven master could recruit? That there were rituals that needed to be respected?”
She appeared to consider this for a moment before blithely answering, “Yeah, but you said it yourself...those rituals are stupid.”
Damn, she had me there. There were formal rites that were supposed to be performed when one was accepted into a coven, but they were idiotic, not much better than a fraternity initiation. I had told Sally as much on more than one occasion, not considering that she would probably use my words against me. I should’ve known better. Sally is a rattlesnake in a size-four dress and three-inch heels.
“Besides,” she continued. “I thought you wanted to branch out from the typical muscle heads that Jeff used to recruit.”
Again, she had me. Jeff had been a spoiled, pretty-boy, douche bag asshole. As such, all the other males in the coven had likewise been of similar caliber. They and I had proven to be a bad mix. Thanks to the Khan’s assassins, however, there were now far fewer of them to contend with. That aside, though, I had been putting off active recruitment for the coven because...well, it just seemed like such a fucking evil thing to do. Sure there are plenty of goth weirdos who would jump at the chance to be moody for all of eternity, but I had envisioned a coven populated by a more normal, well-adjusted crowd. The problem is; how do you approach someone like that with the offer of “Hey, can I kill you so you can join my army of the undead?” Apparently, Sally wasn’t concerned with minor details such as this.
“Yes,” I said. “But that didn’t mean you had free rein to make someone your eternal slave just because they happen to do a passable job of covering up your roots.”
“I’ll have you know I’m a natural
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