That Which Bites

chapter 5–POE ON CAPOEIRA



OUTSIDE, GRAY CLOUDS REJOICED as feelers of lightning pierced the sky, creating a smoky afterburn across the downtown skyline. Rain, not wanting to be outdone, poured out in great pelts. Wind came, slapping palm tree fronds and ejecting their rat inhabitants to the concrete jungle below. With a pillow over her head, Poe slept through the clutter. It was a little past noon. Just like the storm raging outside the window, she was oblivious to the figure that studied her sleeping form, the observer’s fist clenching and unclenching. Satisfied with what he saw, the man made a hasty exit.

Inside the library was a bustle of activity not unlike the storm outside. If the comings and goings of the lower level were viewed from the air, ant-like figures in white robes would have been seen packing Plasmacore bags into crates. Once the boxes were filled and packed in bubble wrap and foam, vampires and halfdeads lifted them effortlessly onto the waiting trucks in the parking garage. What couldn’t be seen from above were the newly awakened humans ready to replace the night shift workers. The operation was quite involved and organized. And every detail was recorded by memory by the ever-watchful eyes of a spy.

135

Rono/That Which Bites

Down in the library basement slept about four dozen vampires, getting needed respite from the night’s work and the sun. The spying eyes counted the vampires occupying the ground floor and made another mental note.

Lightning projected phantasmagoric shadow and light from the sundry stained glass and other windows of the library not covered by tar. The mole stopped within earshot of three beings talking intently by the elevator.

“I’m done with being a traveling salesman,” said Sainvire. “From now on, I’m staying put. I’ll never let anything happen to our people again because of a utopian dream.”

“It’s no dream. Many of your kind have already taken to Plasmacore,” said Perla.

“You just want to stay because of the girl,” teased Joseph. “She’s a looker, that one.”

The spy listened as Sainvire, Joseph, and Perla discussed the girl named Poe. As soon as Sainvire turned to study the pillar he was hiding behind, the operative pivoted and headed toward the escalator on the other side of the hall.

“Who was that?” Sainvire asked.

“Oh, he’s the new phlebotomist,” Perla volunteered. “He’s the human our sweepers found wandering around Santa Monica few months ago.”

“I have the oddest sense that he was listening to us from behind that column,” Sainvire commented as he followed the man’s descent down the escalator.

“How did he say he survived all this time?” asked the master vampire.

“With help from the clandestine community in West L.A. and Santa Monica, of course,” answered Perla. It was well known that the small group of stragglers and survivors had formed a working 136

Rono/That Which Bites

community thereabouts. They’d dodged cattle round-ups routinely initiated by master vampires and councilmembers. Many of them were Sainvire’s contacts.

“He’s pretty weird,” Joseph supplied. “He got on Poe’s case for spilling a packet of blood. He almost tackled the poor girl. Would’ve liked to see him try.

My money would’ve been on Poe, of course, after what Goss told us and what you witnessed yesterday.”

“Just keep an eye on him,” Sainvire ordered. “One slip and I want him gone, alright?”

His two friends nodded their assent.

“Joseph, will you escort Poe to the armory room this afternoon?”

“It’ll be my pleasure,” Joseph grinned. “Although I can’t imagine a human so slight handling such heavy firepower.”

“Friend, you haven’t seen her at work,” said Sainvire with a crooked smile. “She single-handedly killed over a dozen of Trench’s troops and survived with only scratches and a nail wound.”

“Sounds like Terminator Girl has a fan,” Joseph mocked the much taller vampire.

Sainvire didn’t deny it. He merely told the impertinent vampire to scram for he had something to discuss with Perla.

When they were finally alone, Sainvire turned to a smiling Perla, clad in yet another set of matching pajamas, only this time the yellow jammies bled with Voltron figures in various fighting stances.

“Not you, too, Perla,” Sainvire despaired, shaking his head.

“Well, Kaleb, it has been years since you’ve had a woman, vampire or human at that.” Perla hooked her arm in the crook of Sainvire’s.

137

Rono/That Which Bites

Sainvire squeezed his friend’s arm and flashed a wry smile. “Are you sure about that? I’ve been traveling a lot recently, you know.”

His retort made the round-cheeked woman chortle, and she pinched the master vampire’s perfectly firm buns.

One of his dark eyebrows lifted. For the affront, he retaliated by placing a booming kiss on the top of her head. He was used to his friend’s very touchy and sometimes shockingly irreverent but benign actions.

Besides, Perla had a partner whom Sainvire adored and respected. “Were you able to procure what I asked for?”

“You bet. The items are already upstairs,” she scowled, giving him a significant look. “Now I think I’ll take a nap before I play babysitter today.”

(((

Poe woke up to a crowd within the terrarium they called the library.

The bed’s too comfortable. She’d lost command of her internal alarm clock. The presence of four creatures in her room – Sainvire’s room – nearly spurred a heart condition. She bolted upright, her sore muscles and myriad injuries screaming. One hand explored her head for any holes and the other reached under the pillow for scissors, her hair falling in tangled disarray around her face.

“Good morning, Poe,” Perla greeted cheerfully as she placed Poe’s freshly dried clothes and shoes on the foot of the bed.

“You mean, good afternoon, don’t you?” Joseph corrected. He flashed Poe a disapproving headshake, his trademark smile nearly surfacing.

Poe couldn’t quite get herself to speak. She was afraid a string of gutter-stutter would come out, so she 138

Rono/That Which Bites

waited until her breathing settled a notch. She saw Sainvire give her a quick nod as he fed spoonfuls of what appeared to be mashed potatoes to a groggy Penny.

A tall and thick middle-aged vampire that was sitting at the far end of the room drifted a foot from the ground toward the bed. The woman simply smiled at the weapon in Poe’s hand.

“My name’s Maple,” the vampire introduced herself, dropping a heavy sack full of bullets on the mattress. “These are for you.”

“Huh?”

“Bullets, Poe. Not just marinated bullets but bullets filled with garlic oil. Or as Sister loved to say, blessed bullets.” She extended her dead white hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

Poe stared at the hand and until she finally extended her own. The vamp’s hand was softer and warmer than she had imagined. “Um, nice to meet you.”

A little more than confused, Poe looked around the room, unsure of what to do. The huge bed dwarfed her, quite pathetic and rumpled. Her silence also added to doubts about her killing ability. Perla already had a preconception of the girl as a clumsy blood spiller.

Joseph, although he enjoyed sporting around with his new pal, had his doubts that this little leaguer could kill supernaturals even with the aid of weapons. “She’s just lucky,” he told Sainvire.

As for Maple, the girl’s inability to handle this simple social situation lost her some Kool-Aid points.

But she did concede that Poe had lived a decade or so of her life alone, which would explain the warped social skills. And they had invaded her space before she had time to dress.

139

Rono/That Which Bites

Only Sainvire had the utmost confidence in the girl’s abilities. He’d seen firsthand what Poe could do under duress. She was also a damn fine shot, accurately able to shatter two vampire heads at once. He sensed the doubts around him, but they would just have to see for themselves. Besides, Poe’s husky voice penetrated his senses like nothing else.

Perla was the first to break the silence. “Here are your clothes and shoes, dear.” She smiled as Poe’s eyes lingered on a Voltron figure on the woman’s sleeve.

“We have washers and dryers downstairs. Hope you don’t mind.” Poe shook her head, mumbling a thank you.

“You’ll find a new toothbrush in the bathroom and some ibuprofen. You must be really sore by now.”

Because Poe kept staring at her with those big eyes with a pinched look, Perla decided to be a little more specific. “You can take a shower now if you wish. You have a long afternoon ahead of you.” She indicated Joseph with her head. “Joe there will outfit you with new weapons, and Maple will show you the vampire’s most vulnerable areas, the ones Sister Ann neglected to teach you. So go on and get ready so you can have lunch beforehand.”

Poe nodded once and slinked out of the bed barefoot and into the privacy of the bathroom. None of the vampires or Perla failed to notice the tattered condition of Sainvire’s old trousers which overnight had sprouted little strings from the hacked hems. The four visitors held their urge to laugh until after the young woman had shut the bathroom door. Then they let loose.

If Poe did hear laughter, she ignored it, for among the folded clothes Perla handed her were three new pairs of cotton bras. At that moment, she simply 140

Rono/That Which Bites

wanted to get gobbled down by any miserable monsters looking to have a meal.

(((

Acutely aware of the prying eyes hoping for a repeat of the night before, Poe made it a point to eat more slowly, savoring the flavors of hash browns, pancakes, and veggie sausages.

“Are we correct in assuming you’re vegetarian, Poe?” Habib asked in a prim British accent. He and the other three chefs joined the girl, Perla, Maple, and Joseph during brunch.

“Um, I never thought of that, but I guess so,” Poe answered, drinking a draught of freshly squeezed orange juice. “My dad could drink a gallon of this stuff without taking a breath.”

It looked like she would have three escorts for the rest of the day. As she finished her O.J., Poe surreptitiously checked out Joseph who poured some Plasmacore into two glasses, handing one to Maple.

Her gaze turned to Perla, dipping a piece of toast in the yellow part of her eggs. She stopped her scrutinizing when she noticed Janice, one of the chefs, looking at her.

“How’s breakfast, young lady?” she asked.

Poe swallowed and enthusiastically answered,

“Delicious! You guys are the best cooks in the world.”

The chefs beamed, promising dinner to be a truly lavish affair. Poe smacked her lips and rubbed her tummy in anticipation. “I can’t wait.” Joseph ended all the food talk, feeling rather hungry himself for something altogether different than his liquid meal.

“Enough about food already,” Joseph begged.

“We need to vamoose to the Dirty Harry Room.”

141

Rono/That Which Bites

Poe thanked the chefs again and took her leave, her belly round from the amount of food inside. She wondered about the Dirty Harry Room but decided to wait it out.

It didn’t take her long to utter, “Oh, I get it.” The Dirty Harry Room contained weaponry of all kinds from as early as the 1600s. The room used to be the special library reserve for newspapers, magazines, microfilm, and CDs. Now it carried hundreds of axes, knives, bayonets, crossbows, and of course, guns. The end of the long, bare room boasted nothing but three large target sheets tacked on a wall of wood and tough fibers to blunt the bullets.

Poe’s eyes warily drank the sight of such magnificent weaponry. Her parents, avidly anti-gun, were probably looking down on her with terrible disapproval. But what could she do in such dark times?

Eyeing the row of axes, she quietly said, “I want one of those.” She’d always had a hankering for a Hawkeye axe.

“Should we start with the guns? You’ll need a few,” Joseph suggested.

Poe followed him to the rows of perfectly shelved handguns, rifles, semi-automatics, and shotguns. Poe gravitated to the Walther PPK, hoping to replace her dear James.

“I prefer a Walther PPK and a Beretta.”

“Try handling other guns first. You might be surprised,” Joseph advised.

Reluctantly Poe inspected the automatic pistol that Joseph, uncharacteristically clad in a Watchmen shirt, handed her. It was a 10mm Remington, a bit heavy and large for her hands, but she just had to please the smile-heavy vampire looking over her shoulders. At least he was fully dressed this time. She didn’t even 142

Rono/That Which Bites

bother to step at the shooting line. Poe fired from where she stood at the corner end of the room.

Perla and Maple, deep in conversation, were startled into attention by the blast, their eyes alternating between Poe and the target. Her shot was a few millimeters from the bullseye, but it was still in the red circle. They looked at the girl who made a face at Joseph and said that the Remington was too heavy.

Their conversation stopped for good to watch Poe select several guns and fire them. Holding a gun in each hand, Poe shot at two separate targets simultaneously, hitting the center of both. The two women exchanged looks.

“I take back any doubts I had about her skills,”

Perla whispered to Maple.

“Ditto. Taken back.”

As surprised as Perla and Maple, Joseph was decidedly awed by the shooting prowess of the young woman. He grinned as he handed the Glock, his favorite weapon, to Poe.

The pasted look of cynicism on Poe’s face faded as soon as she held the small G-19 pistol that held 18

rounds of ammo. It felt feather light and fit perfectly in her hand. It was made out of synthetic polymer that was stronger than steel, yet was hugely lighter than most pistols. She took the other gun Joseph held out to her. It was a Glock 33, also known as one of the smallest .357s ever made. For such a powerful handgun, it was surprisingly buoyant.

Poe moved to the firing line. Extending both hands into fire position, Poe sprinkled bullets on the three targets on the opposite side of the room, hitting the bullseye over ninety-nine percent of the time. To her surprise, the Glocks proved better than her old guns. The change saddened her, but for safety sake, she chose accuracy over loyalty.

143

Rono/That Which Bites

“I’m sold on these two,” she said to Joseph.

“Wise choice.”

Poe ended up with a Walther PPK and three Glocks, including a mini-Glock, a palm sized firearm that could be easily sheathed at her ankle. Maple also supplied Poe with a mini-Uzi that was more high-tech than the one sliced by vampire nails back at Goss’. For what it was worth, the manufacturer guaranteed that the Uzi wouldn’t lock.

“No, really. I don’t want a shotgun,” she said adamantly. “I’ll kill myself with the recoil. But I wouldn’t mind a small axe and some knives.”

Perla helped sharpen the chosen Hawkeye axe, while Maple and Joseph looked for the right-size shoulder and ankle holsters for the girl. Poe filled her backpack with ammunition. She was used to heavy weights on her shoulders.

Maple gave a brief but informative lecture about the vulnerable spots of vampires. Poe was surprised to learn a thing or two. For instance, she hadn’t known that a vampire’s spine could be severed if hit two or three times with blessed ammo. The bacteria in the garlic would prevent the bones from soldering back together. Since the vampire was nice enough to share such prime information, Poe felt more at ease. So much at ease that she asked Maple in a whisper if it was true that male vampires reacted like human males when kicked in the groin.

Maple didn’t even bat an eye and answered her question as if it had been asked in a classroom. “A little, Poe, but not enough to bowl them over or keep them from doing their business. It’s more psychological than anything.”

For some reason, the conversation turned to sex.

Joseph was the one who answered the questions most asked by humans.

144

Rono/That Which Bites

“Yes, we can have sex with humans and vampires alike,” he sighed. “No, we can’t spawn any half-human, half-vampire brats – we’re dead. But there are those pesky rumors that vampire babies begat by dead partners can sometimes take seed. Supernatural anomaly. Since I haven’t seen any fanged vamplings with my own eyes, then they must be myth. And no, we don’t feel sexual and turned on by drinking blood like what oversexed novelists insisted upon drilling into the public’s head. Blood’s just food. You don’t want to have sex with your bowl of oatmeal, do you?”

He looked at Poe, a little annoyed. “Any more questions before the lesson?”

Poe crossed her arms. “I didn’t ask you those questions, you know.” She looked at a mischievous Perla. Peevishly, she continued. “And what lesson?”

Joseph opened the door to a gymnasium and let the three in. “Just a little something so we can gauge your self-defense skills.”

Poe’s eyes widened. “Man, I’m all cut and bruised up from yesterday. I can’t be thrown around and kicked by subcreatures.”

“Don’t worry about it, Poe. We know about your injuries,” he smiled. “Besides, I’m not the one who’s going to kick you around. That would be these gentlemen over here.”

As if on cue, three humans – one thin, one burly, and one extremely muscular – wearing white sparring outfits appeared from around the corner. The lounging crowd clapped readily.

Poe had an intense urge to punch Joseph’s gleeful mug. This wasn’t funny at all. These guys looked like they belonged in Bloodsport. She limped from her nail wound, her cuts still fresh. And she was bursting from lunch, for Pete’s sake. She felt like unlatching the 145

Rono/That Which Bites

safety of one of the Glocks and shooting everyone in the room who’d come for the spectacle.

“Poe, this is Jim. He’ll be your first sparring partner.” The thin but sturdy man bowed to her. His face screamed pain in Poe’s opinion. She flared her nostrils at the man. She pulled down at her Pixies tshirt. “If you would take off your holsters and backpack, the games can begin.”

Poe scowled at Joseph, her five-inch scar turning white . This isn’t a gladiator show. Miserable f*cker!

She threw her new guns unceremoniously by Joseph’s feet hoping one of them would go off and shoot him in the ass. Perla gave her a squeeze, looking mighty nervous for the girl. Maple whispered in her ear,

“Remember, anything goes, Poe.”

Poe nodded at the two women, too tense to give a proper smile. Her butt was hurting, too. She thought she should just refuse, but she knew Joseph would never let her hear the end of it. And unbelievably, her new bra was giving her grief. Too stiff and itchy.

As if the whole thing wasn’t painful enough, Sainvire came striding in looking cool and collected, ready to watch the bullfight. Poe’s breath caught in her throat. Why did he have to be so damn tall and interesting-looking? And those freaky eyes! Why didn’t Joseph choose three women to spar with me?

“Please, Mom and Dad, don’t make me look stupid in front of Sainvire,” Poe prayed silently. She squatted down to tighten the double-knot of her shoelaces.

As soon as Poe stepped on the mat, Jim circled her as if she were prey, and assumed a fighting stance not unlike Ralph Macchio’s “Crane” from The Karate Kid. F*ck me, Poe thought as she stood. She couldn’t remember any of the stances she had learned from 146

Rono/That Which Bites

Goss and her videos at home, and she had no idea which style she would sport. I’m dead.

Economy of movement, Poe, said Bruce Lee in her head. Before his voice finished, however, Jim had already snaked a punch in her direction. Poe barely avoided the full impact of his fist as she did a Cassius Clay and stepped back, dancer style with her chin tucked in.

The smack she took instead of a punch served to piss her off since she knew at least a dozen folks were watching. Some she recognized from the cafeteria.

When another punch came at her, Poe blocked with her elbow, trapping her opponent’s hand. She returned with a back kick, cracking his kneecap. It was always a good move to go for the knee. As Jim fell, Poe continued to work on his hand, snapping back his wrist.

“That’s what you get, jerk!” A dirty fighter, Poe didn’t stop with the wrist. She kicked at the man even when he was down, concentrating on his face and privates. “Die!”

“Jim will never be able to have kids,” said an onlooker sweating on a treadmill.

Maple had to carry the defeated man away from the still kicking Poe, while she let loose a string of Scarface lingo. Maple flashed Poe a one-down, two-to-go look as she handed Jim into the waiting arms of a medic.

Beet-faced and pacing, Poe smoothed back the long strands that escaped her ponytail. For some annoying reason, her sweat glands set their headquarters on the tip of her nose. She wiped the offending droplets with her lucky Pixies shirt, her mother’s favorite band.

A burly man named Biff with long sideburns stepped on the mat. Poe urgently wanted a break.

147

Rono/That Which Bites

Didn’t boxers get five-minute rests? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!

She snapped the many black rubber bands on her left wrist until the pain reminded her that it could be worse. Poe reluctantly stepped up to join Biff. Better get used to something harder than a thwack on your arm, Poe thought bleakly.

“Your dirty tricks ain’t gonna work on me, missy,” he drawled. “I learned from the same instructor as Elvis. You do know who the King is, don’t cha?”

Biff threw out, disgusted at the girl’s lack of honor.

“Um, sure. Elvis of Clam Bake and Kissin’

Cousins fame. King of cheese and swampy movies.”

She let the number one fan have it. “Oh yeah, he was into karate-choppin’ and sequined jumpsuits, too.”

Ticked off, the yoked man kicked at her bad leg, causing her to fall on one knee. “Never insult the King!”

I hate this guy, she thought. C’mon, Master Lee.

Give me a sign! While she waited for inspiration from the Master, Poe stood up and blocked each kick with her left leg, positioned Thai boxing style. An elbow blocked each punch. Evidently she had not developed sufficient calluses on her leg bones and elbows. Lightly kicking a baseball bat while watching movies or reading books and chewing old gum wasn’t sufficient training.

Each massive block caused her to clamp her teeth shut from pain. His bones were definitely gargantuan compared to hers. Finally the Master spoke, just in the nick of time.

Lesson A, Tape 2: Playing with Human Instinct stole into her mind.

“Thank you, Master Lee,” she murmured, parrying Biff’s punch and lashing at his ankle with a kick.

148

Rono/That Which Bites

The burly man deflected the blow with his massive arm. Poe targeted his ankle again with her foot but was blocked by a knee. The third time, she kicked toward Biff’s ankle, but she aborted the move midway and hit Elvis #2 with a jarring right to the face. Faked out! The shit really works!

Red and furious, Biff ran at her. He succeeded in grabbing the scrambling Poe from behind. He lifted her off the floor, her legs dangling uselessly. JKD move number 23: Do whatever the hell it takes!

“Um, there’s something about you, Biff,” Poe said with difficulty. “Being this close to you makes me realize that you smell rancid.” She pried off a finger digging on a rib and snapped it back, breaking the digit with a pop. Biff immediately let go, falling on his knees and yelling profanity Poe had never heard before.

To shut him up, Poe released a high kick squarely in Biff’s mouth, making him keel over and swallow a tooth. Once on the floor, Poe grabbed his thinning hair and rammed his already bloody face on the mat over and over until she was again dragged to the sideline.

She cussed at the semi-conscious Biff who was having difficulty breathing from the blood oozing out of his broken nose. “And a blue aloha to you, too, f*cker!”

“I thought you said she was no contest,” the blubbering man, spitting out blood and teeth said accusingly at Joseph as he was escorted from the mat.

For the first time, Poe noticed the shocked faces of the humans in the gym. Some of the bolder vampires acknowledged her with a nod, and a few didn’t even want to make eye contact.

A second after the blood and teeth were wiped from the practice mat, the last sparring partner cartwheeled onto the mat in unbelievable speed, drawing applause. Poe felt a thrill of apprehension. She 149

Rono/That Which Bites

didn’t know shit about Capoeira, the Brazilian martial arts that stocked a lot of dance and twirl movement.

Miserable Mission Impossible with Tom Cruise.

That’s what I get? Poe thought, searching for a useful defense maneuver.

“It’s an embarrassing form of martial arts,” Goss once said, shaking his head. “You don’t need to learn that crap because it leaves you wide open. You don’t want a ballet recital anyway, kid. You want something ugly and rough that will hurt your enemy something fierce.”

But something was off about the man called Rufus, and it wasn’t just his lack of shirt, either. He was too fast. As soon as the third contender landed on his feet and winked, Poe realized what it was. Rufus was a halfdead as indicated by his short fangs. F*ck me. I’m dead.

Poe gestured to Joseph for a timeout.

“Why? It’s almost over, Poe. Do you think you’ll get a break during a vampire attack?”

“This isn’t a vampire attack! And that guy is a halfdead!” she screeched. “It’s not fair–”

“That’s how life is sometimes,” Joseph smiled patronizingly. “Now get in there and fight the mutha!”

Poe held her tongue and gave him the finger instead. She looked up at Sainvire staring intently. The vampire looked nervous for her. For good measure, she flipped him one. At least I’m not the only one afraid for me, thought Poe. Taking deep breaths and exhaling slowly, Poe faced the half-vamp. There are guns for these sorts of things.

“I’m the Great Ali’s daughter,” Poe mumbled to herself. “I’m too pretty to…”

Rufus flamboyantly cartwheeled toward Poe, stopping directly in front of her. Quick as a flash, he kissed Poe on the tip of her sweaty nose. Everyone in 150

Rono/That Which Bites

the gym roared with laughter, except for Sainvire.

Humiliated to say the least, Poe lashed out, slapping the beaming halfdead.

Rufus’ expression soured. He grabbed Poe by the shoulders and hurled her in the direction of her three companions. Her shoulder blade hit the back of a metal chair, igniting an electric shock of pain.

“Aray ko!” she said in Tagalog.

From the floor, Joseph loomed over her with his yellow smiley Watchmen t-shirt, raising his eyebrows as if to say, “Well, what are you waiting for?”

Despite the pain, Poe got up and spat a thick one on Joseph’s bare feet. She jogged to the bastard, Rufus, and snarled at him. Poe easily dodged the lead straight punch he threw at her, watching the cords on his neck instead of his eyes. The tightness of the neck was a more accurate gauge of where the next punch would originate.

As soon as Rufus retreated, however, Poe executed one of the dirtiest tricks she knew. She stomped hard on the tender part of his foot. Rufus’

scream didn’t matter, for she knew that the pain in his foot would keep him occupied. She made sure to maintain the pressure on her Adidas. One second, two seconds, a punch. The halfdead tried to pull away but couldn’t. The girl hung on his neck, and he was stuck like an Everlast punching sack, just like in Lesson 32.

She was the most lowdown fighter the gym had seen yet. The halfdead had to grab Poe by the neck and lift her off the floor to pry her off of him. Poe’s sore knuckles were worse than useless. She couldn’t even pry Rufus’ big fingers off her neck. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Perla and Maple looking tense, and Joseph, for once, didn’t have a trace of a smile. But the weirdest of all was Sainvire. He was no longer sitting and looked positively murderous. Before the pressure 151

Rono/That Which Bites

around her neck could make her pass out, Master Lee’s voice rang in her ear. Remember the three-pound pressure rule.

Her eyes widening, Poe grabbed Rufus’ left ear, and with all her might, pulled down. She came tumbling on the floor, her fist grasping the halfdead’s ripped ear. So it was true. It only took three pounds of pressure to pull someone’s ear off. She did learn a lot from watching videos and reading books. Who needs to go to school?

Rufus’ wail was deafening, as his hand tried to cover the gaping hole made on the left side of his head.

Sainvire was beside Poe, helping her up. At least three people tried to calm the distraught Rufus, but he would have none of it. Poe dislodged Sainvire’s hand from her elbow and walked toward her fallen nemesis. Rufus looked up at the small woman, five-foot-two and three-quarters to be exact, who had ripped his ear off and belted out a murderous series of curses.

Poe forced herself to smile sweetly and say, “This is for kissing my nose without my permission you disgusting halfdead!” She hurled the bloody ear in the daywalker’s face and strode out of the gym.

(((

She didn’t really know where to go, so Poe decided to go back to Sainvire’s room. She could check on Penny and use the bathroom. Her hands shook. The rich meal and the bodily injuries she had received seemed to wreak mayhem with her already traumatized system.

“Everything is a joke with that moron,” she seethed, talking to the air. “I could’ve been killed! But then again, he’d probably laugh his head off if I got pounced to death.”

152

Rono/That Which Bites

Her body ached from being thrown around the room and kicked repeatedly. Punks! As soon as she could get Penny out of there without injuring the mutt further, they would be off. This library was just too crazy for her.

Penny lay on her side, half awake. When Poe sat down to face the dog on the sofa, she whined. The area where her tongue had been was still swollen and the cut fresh, but because of her healing doggy saliva, Penny was happily on the mend. Poe exhaled on the dog’s face. Penny seemed to find the warm breath comforting and gave a little sigh.

“Poor ratty dog.”

With Penny safely dozing, Poe went into the bathroom with an old Time magazine in hand and did her business. She was one those people who could read or think on the porcelain throne until their legs turned numb. Her sister Sirena had taught her well. She did her best thinking that way.

When she came out a cool forty minutes later, Sainvire was looking out the Spanish-style window, patiently waiting for her. Oddly, the vampire wasn’t affected in the slightest by the weak sunlight that struggled to emerge in the downpour. This revelation disturbed her strongly.

Instead of blushing at being caught using the commode for almost an hour, Poe pursed her lips and looked up at the ceiling. She was sick of feeling embarrassed. She’d already done her job as the freak gladiator of the day.

“What?” she asked the vampire who turned around to face her. He was wearing the same outfit as yesterday, black t-shirt and dark slacks.

“Just wanted to give you these,” he said as he pointed to the bed. There lay an Uzi, an axe, three Glock pistols in holsters, and her favorite James Bond 153

Rono/That Which Bites

gun, a Walther PPK – the weapons she’d left at the gym.

Poe didn’t even thank him. She just took the holsters and slipped them around her shoulders. The smaller one she strapped to her ankle. The Uzi and axe she threw on the bed. She demanded the time.

“Five-thirty,” Sainvire answered in a calm voice, following Poe’s every move with his unnerving eyes.

The girl has the right to be mad, he thought. Joseph was a prankster who didn’t know where to draw the line. His friend certainly overdid it with the sparring demonstration that afternoon. Since he had allowed the spectacle to continue, he blamed himself for the carnage.

Like those at the gym, he couldn’t keep his eyes off Poe and her unscrupulous fighting skills. The combat was the closest thing to television he’d seen in years. A small person brought down three skilled fighters. The girl was intriguing him more and more.

“What time is dinner?” Poe asked hungry again after her vampire-slinging excursion.

“There’s food around the clock. If you wish to have dinner, you can go now.”

Not wanting to appear like a hog, Poe covered herself. “Habib, Janice, and the other chefs promised to make something really good in my honor tonight. I don’t want them to think I’m rude by showing up late.”

She hurried out the room before Sainvire could say anything further. She smiled at the fact that she wasn’t stuttering anymore.