volcanic ruin on a Greek island called Gloom. Then, there was the only woman in their command group, Dominique Fontaine, a six-foot-tall, black-haired voodoo woman, whose New Orleans mansion, Anguish, had a popular eating establishment and a torture chamber that defied description. To say that Dominique was a repulsive demon was an understatement, even for Jasper. One of Dominique’s passions was snakes. At the moment, she had one of the diamond-headed monsters draped around her neck like a feather boa. Both of them presented impressive fangs. Dominique bowed to him, and he bowed back. Words were unnecessary. He did not like the woman, and she did not like him.
Jasper rapped his gavel on the table as a call to order. It was the femur bone of his very first vampire angel kill eons ago. At the same time his femur gavel hit the wood, his assistant, Beltane, a French hordling, came up to whisper in his ear, “He is here.”
No need to spell out who he was. Heinrich liked to arrive late and make a grand entrance. He was dressed in his old Nazi uniform, loaded with medals, his back ramrod stiff. No tail today. Nor was he oozing slime as most mungs did. In fact, he was looking rather dapper with his blond hair parted on one side and slicked smoothly off his face. “ Heil! ” he said, stretching his arm outward toward Jasper, as if he were a frickin’ Hitler, when everyone knew Der Führer was roasting in Satan’s own version of Auschwitz.
News flash, Heinrich. You lost the war. Jasper nodded to the seat beside him and rapped on the table once again.
“Sorry I was late, everyone, but I was in conference with Luce,” Heinrich told them with an exaggerated grimace of apology. Luce being Lucifer, of course.
What a name-dropper! Jasper seriously considered sticking his gavel up the asshole’s asshole, knobby end first.
“Proceed!” Heinrich waved a hand airily, as if he were in charge of this meeting, and not Jasper. Most mungs were mute; unfortunately, Heinrich was not. How much trouble would I be in if I amputated his tongue? Hmm.
Jasper bared his teeth at the idiot and hissed. His fangs were so long they almost touched his jaw.
Heinrich glanced over at him and said, “Oops! Did I step on someone’s tail?” Then he pulled a laptop out of his leather shoulder bag and proceeded to tap away at the keys.
What the fuck is he doing now? E-mailing Satan? Holy Hades! Is there wireless in Hell? Jasper couldn’t allow the mung’s insolence to go unchecked, especially when all the haakai were watching for his reaction to his authority being undermined. “The next time you arrive late, Heiny , the doors will be locked to you. I would suggest that you check your attitude before addressing me in future. You will not like the consequences. I’m thinking you would look good with a humpback.”
Jasper turned away then, but not before noticing Heinrich’s appearance begin to revert. His pretty Aryan skin was turning red and scaly. Apparently he had no fondness for humpbacks.
Good!
Zebulan, at the other end of the table, grinned with satisfaction. Heinrich hated Zebulan with an unholy passion since he was of Jewish descent. Zebulan suffered no love for the Nazi, either. More than once, the two had tried to fang each other.
“Now, let us hear reports from each of the commanders,” Jasper said, “starting with Dominique.” Let Heinrich try to interrupt her and see what happened!
Dominique spoke of all the victims she’d lured to her dungeons by way of her four-star restaurant and she told them with relish about some of the new torture methods she was experimenting with to turn her victims more quickly. Most of them involved snakes.
“So, do you serve snake on your restaurant menu?” Zebulan inquired with a grin.
Dominique licked her fire-red lips with a tongue that would do Gene Simmons proud while giving Zebulan a lascivious once-over. “No, mon ami . Just Hebrews.”
They all laughed, even Zebulan.
After that,
Learning to Kill: Stories