*OVERALL DISCLAIMER*

I don't write this with a profit in mind, nor do i intend to misuse the names of Jim Butcher's characters, of St. Louis' landmarks, sports franchises, or political figures. This is done purely for my entertainment. TAKE THAT, ROMANTIC COMEDY!


PROLOGUE

You know, most normal people complain at the office when the coffee runs out or if the copying machine jams. They are all worried about how the damn St. Louis rush hour is so hectic. They watch the 4 A.M. news religiously just to find out where it's going to be bad, what the weather is like, who killed who last night. Man, how boring is that?

My job is much more… exciting. To say the least. I think.

Well, I guess I should know, really. Come on, what's more exciting than battling vampires, man?

Two of the half bat, half supernatural abominations jumped from the concrete floor, a whole thirty feet in the air, right at me. I ducked under the first and slashed my talwar upwards, gutting the vampire from groin to its large, flabby throat. As it fell to the floor in a soupy plop, I jumped from the rafters with it. Kneeling on the grimy floor, my gray cloak pooling around me, I prepared for the next attack.

It came from my right flank. The bloodthirsty monster that was once a mortal human being scrabbled across the smooth, dusty floor, its claws raking into it as it dashed to rip out my spine. Spinning on my knee, I thrust the curved Indian-styled sword at its gaping, razor filled maw and felt, more than saw, the titanium blade sink through its skull. Yanking it out, I turn again just in time to duck out of the way of the first jumper.

It sailed over my head, but its claws seared my back with three superficial strokes. I growl more at the vampire than the injury, and spin around again, facing the three remaining vamps lurking at the northern end of the warehouse. One stayed right in front of me, dead center. The other two stalked to my left and right, respectively. Flanking maneuvers, obviously. I sneered at the lead creature as I prepared myself.

It didn't sneer back, back they didn't attack right away. Glowing, gold-red eyes stared hungrily back at mine from a bat-esque, face. Long, pointed ears stuck up from the sides of its head, leading imaginary lines down passed its eyes and to the equally batty, up-turned nose. Wing-like flaps of skin sagged down from its arm pits, and ran down its arm to its wrists. It stood on all fours, clawing the concrete and its hideously tongue flopped lecherously, as if the dust was just a starting taste to what it really wanted.

Buh, gross.

The lead vampire shrieked, and the flankers attacked. In two smooth movements I brought up my left wrist to shield myself from one of the flankers, and dropped my sword and produced my blasting rod with my right. The first vampire got lucky; it rebounded of my shield and went flying backwards. The other, not so much…

"Ignus!" I chanted monotonously, and sprang forward, towards the lead vampire. The second vampire erupted in flame, fell to the floor, and skidded to a thudding halt, right through where I had been standing half a second before.

The lead vampire, Tiny(as I decided to dub it,) dug its claws into the metaphorical ground at roared. I faked with my blasting rod, swatting at its head with a sideways swing. It reacted just the way I wanted it to, batting the small rod of wood from my grasp. Having purposely letting the rod go, it caused the vampire to lurch forward treacherously. Without the expected resistance from me, the laws of physics did my dirty work for me. Snapping my now free right hand to my hip, I grasped my small sawed off shotgun and brought the twenty gauge barrel to bear firmly at the Vampires neck.

With a calm squeeze of the trigger, the monster's neck exploded into a cloud of reddish-black blood and gore.

Cocking the lever-action just as calmly, I turned in time to slam the butt of the shotgun into the nose of the first flanker. It reeled backwards, blood and snot and vampire saliva flying into the musty warehouse air as it did. It stood on its hind legs, perilously and awkwardly standing upright. With a smooth twirl of the stock, I jabbed the nose of the gun behind its bottom jaw, and squeezed the trigger again. The buckshot flashed through like a bullet through a watermelon.

"Adhevo," I muttered twice, calling my talwar and my blasting rod to me. I sauntered up to the whimpering and roasting last vampire. It was a testament, I think, that after getting a head on, face full of deadly fire, the damnable thing was still, if barely, kicking. It was a reminder of just how tough the Red Court Vampires were. With a final slash of the blade, its life-force ceased.

But the lesson would always remain; Vampires are as tough as hell, nails, and the entire St. Louis Rams football team combined, and then some.

Yep, office people's lives are very, very bland compared to that of a Warden of the White Council. Who needs morning rush hour and exploding coffee pots when you can slay five hideous, monstrous beasts that wanna drink your blood for breakfast and save your intestines for dinner before five A.M? Not me, that's for sure.

Melodramatic breathe in, exaggerated sigh out. Just another day at the office…