Andrew Fox - Fat White Vampire Blues

He should be ecstatic. Or glad. Or at least relieved.

But Jules was none of those things. Malice X was gone. Yet that fact hadn’t brought back Maureen. It hadn’t even brought back a single King Oliver platter from his melted record collection.

One of the wolf-dogs-the leader-seemed to sense his melancholy. It nuzzled his hand gently; its cold nose on his fingers felt good in the humid night air. Another of the pack tried to cheer him by example, prancing around Jules and leaping boisterously, bouncing its paws off his stomach and chest.

Now Jules was able to take a closer look at his rescuers. Were these really his… pups? Wasthat why they’d seemed so familiar to him outside the Trolley Stop? All of the wolf-dogs had light brown spots on their chests and upper forelegs. His canine companion in Baton Rouge had similar markings, hadn’t she? It was hard for Jules to remember; he hadn’t been in his most lucid frame of mind during that night of amour. But the wolf-dogs’ scent was so viscerally familiar, and he was sure he’d gotten more than a noseful of the friendly bitch’s scent in that alleyway. His human-self might not remember that particular odor, but his buried wolf-self certainly would.

If theywere his pups, how did they get born and grow up so fast? It was barely a month since Jules’s trip to Baton Rouge. Dogs didn’t gestatethat fast, did they? On the other hand, it wouldn’t exactly have been any normal pregnancy. He’d never knocked up anybody before, human, vampire, or otherwise. Who knewwhat the rules were when a vampire was involved?

Jules sat on the front steps of a shoe repair store and let the wolf-dogs lick his face while he patted their noses and scratched behind their ears. There was another possibility, he realized suddenly; the wolf-dogs didn’thave to be his pups, not necessarily. Maybe Doodlebug hadn’t left town when he said he had. Maybe his old friend had stuck around, watching him from the shadows, waiting for a time when Jules would really need him.

But Doodlebug wouldn’t want to help him as Doodlebug. No-doing so would toss all that self-esteem/self-reliance psychobabble he’d regaled Jules with out the window. Doodlebug would figure out a way to be sneaky. He’d try to help in a way that would make it seem salvation had been the universe’s reward for Jules’s own actions. Hadn’t Jules taken pity on a poor, stray animal, gotten her food, and kept her warm for a night? His karma had come full circle, Doodlebug might say; the universe had saved his big, fat behind a month later.

Maybe. Or maybe not. Jules gave each of the wolf-dogs a final scratch behind the ears, then stood up. They sureseemed like real wolf-dogs. But then again, Doodlebug was a very talented vampire.

It didn’t really matter, he supposed. Either way, Doodlebug or pups, beings he’d had a hand in creating had stood by him in his time of need. After all, in a world where some men could turn into bats and preferred the taste of blood to andouille gumbo, what was one more mystery? Maybe he’d discover the truth someday. Or maybe he wouldn’t. He’d lived this long not knowing where the first vampire had come from, or why the Saints had never made it to the Super Bowl.

The pack voiced friendly, parting barks as they loped up the deserted downtown street. One by one, they transformed into clouds of mist and began drifting west. Toward Baton Rouge. Or California.

“So long, guys,” Jules called after them, waving. “If you’re Doodlebug, thanks. If youaren’t Doodlebug, thanks. Next time we meet, the biscuits are on me.”

Jules continued walking up Tchoupitoulas Street to where he’d parked his Cadillac. Now that he was alone he felt the weight of loneliness bearing down on him again.This ain’t over. The three words mocked him, haunted him. He didn’t want to spend an eternity fighting for turf. All he wanted was for things to go back to the way they had been. To be able to drink a cup of coffee in peace. To be able to listen to the soaring clarinets of a New Orleans jazz band without constantly looking over his shoulder. To chow down on a plate of red beans, smoked sausage, and trout almondine-well, that was pushing it, but he could dream, couldn’t he?

A large, round shape stepped onto the sidewalk from the shadowy entrance foyer of Vic’s Kangaroo Cafй. It wasn’t a kangaroo. It was a woman. A very familiar woman.

“Hail the conquering hero,” she said.

It was Veronika. “You weremagnificent, darling,” she said. “I heard the whole fight sitting in our operations center. It came through loud and clear on the bugs we had the construction crews plant when Malice X built his underground compound. If only you hadn’t run away the last time we were together! I told you I could’ve helped you beat those black vampires! But you had to be a big silly and do it all on your own.”

Jules winced and shut his eyes tightly. Was it true? If he hadn’t run out on Veronika, could he have confronted Malice X nights earlier? “I could’ve maybe polished him off before Doc Landrieu bought it,” he murmured. “Before-before Maureen…”

He felt Veronika grab his hand and squeeze it playfully. “Oh, but it doesn’t really matter. You didgreat! Iknew you were the horse we needed to bet on. But those pansy superiors of mine wouldn’t commit to one side or the other until they’d seen ‘decisive action’ of some kind. So I helped you.”

Jules opened his eyes. “ ‘Helped’ me? Helped mehow?”

He saw what might’ve been the tiniest of blushes light up her cheeks. “I hope you don’t mind, dearest-I gave you a little push. You were waffling so-I wasn’t sure if you were going to fight or run away to Argentina-so I decided to give you a reason to do the right thing.”

“What-what are you talkin‘ about?”

“Well-llllllll…” Her dimpled face took on a Shirley Temple expression of mischief mixed with innocence. “You see, what happened was, I went to Malice X and I sort ofimplied that your friend Maureen had ratted him out to you. I thought maybe he’d rough her up some, just a little, enough to make you really angry and give you that enraged-macho-testosterone edge you needed. And it worked-I mean, Malice went a littleoverboard, the big doofus, but theimportant thing is that you finally stood up for yourself. Youkicked his sorry behind, sweetie! You’re my champion!”

Jules felt his hand go cold and clammy in Veronika’s tight grip. He pulled loose. He’d rather have his hand up a squid’s butt hole than be touching this woman’s hand. “Gee. Thanks.”

Her beautifully sculpted mouth arched into a frown. “Oh, now don’t go all sulky on me! It was you or them, don’t you see? I only did what I had to to make sure it would beyou! And now that you’ve proved to the agency what a good fighter you are, they’ll back you to the hilt. You can make me your vampire queen, just like we talked about before, andtogether we’ll clean out these nests of vampires here in New Orleans. Then the agency will relocate us down to Mexico or Colombia. They won’t give a hoot how many necks we bite down there. In fact, we’ll get bonus payments if we help the Drug Interdiction Force kill off some drug traffickers before they sell their poison to American children. It’s a win-win situation all around, see? Vampire paradise for two!”

Jules felt the beginnings of nausea in his gut. He didn’t want to look at her. He stared at the worn stoop and broken sidewalk behind her. Something stirred in the shadows. Something small and furry. Jules wished they could trade places. “And what if I don’t wanna have nothin‘ to do with your ’vampire paradise‘?”

Veronika laughed sweetly and grabbed both of his hands. “Oh Jules! Silly boy! Whoever said you’d have any choice in the matter? I have a very capable team backing me up who can track you wherever you go. And where would you run to? Back to Baton Rouge?” She laughed. “But really, darling-why would you want to turn me down? Isn’t ‘vampire paradise for two’ way,way more tempting than a nasty old stake through the heart?”