It's a bit dark - be warned.
Many, many thanks to GuardianAngel for reading through and fixing up the rough spots!(I apologize to the Josefites in advance.
)ONE HUNDRED GRAND
"A hundred thousand dollars." The rough men seated around the improvised table barely blinked as a scarred hand slammed down the cellophane-wrapped brick of bills. "A hundred thousand to whoever brings me this vampire's head in a bucket." Photos of a dark-haired man dressed in a long black duster were handed around the table as gnarled fingers stroked the bundle of money. "An extra hundred thousand if his slut is brought to me, alive." More photos were spread over the rough surface, this time of a young blond woman with bright blue eyes. Human and vampire alike picked up the photos and scoured the facial details of both intended targets.
A bruiser the size of a half-ton pickup truck flicked Mick's picture away from him with a thick finger. "I know this guy. A hundred grand ain't near enough." He pushed himself heavily away from the table and stood, staring down at the slight figure encased in a black cloak, the deep hood pulled over her face. "Keep your money. I ain't messin' with this one."
"Come now, Mr. Lewis." The contralto voice held a hint of contempt. "Surely you're not afraid of a mere child? Besides," the voice soothed, "I know your propensity for...toying with human females." A polished fingernail tapped the picture of the blond. "I only require this one to be alive, not unblemished. I know from personal experience she'll give you quite a fight before she submits. If you'd like, you can leave St. John alive long enough to watch you shower his pet with your own special brand of tender loving care."
"Don't matter." Arthur Lewis ignored the heat that swept through him at the thought of the blond underneath him and pushed himself away from the table. "St. John, he works for Josef Kostan on and off and this--" a hand waved in the general direction of Beth's picture-- "is St. John's woman. Kostan protects both and I don't want nothin' to do with no one that's in Kostan's pocket."
The diminutive figure stiffened. "I can handle Josef."
Lewis' thin lips curved into an evil grin. "You couldn't even handle St. John. How you gonna handle the likes of Kostan?" He scoffed. "Tough lady aren't ya? Couldn't even take care of a guy that hasn't even hit 100 and you're gonna deal with the head of this Tribe?" He took a step closer to the woman shrouded in darkness and black wool, his grin turning menacing. "I ain't scared of you, Lola."
Light from the neon sign blinked through the basement window, reflecting livid scars as Lola pushed back the cloak's hood. Faces that had witnessed the worst of sins paled at the sight of the furrowed rows and grooves of bright red, silver-burnt flesh on a once-beautiful face. Hair that was once thick and long hung in limp patches on the pitted skull. The vampires shuddered and the humans gagged at the extensive damage; one tough seated at the foot of the table crossed himself and muttered a prayer in Italian. A thin Hispanic vampire sporting an eye patched that bisected the vicious scar running the length of his long face recovered first and scowled at Lewis.
"Shut up, Lewey," warned the hoodlum. "Show some respect."
Lewis sneered. "She won't kill me, Hector," he said, sparing the thin man a glance. "The vamp I work for ain't as powerful as Kostan, but she don't dare cross him if she wants to do any kinda business in his territory."
Hector shrugged, jerking an emaciated shoulder. "Your funeral, dumbass."
"Thank you, Mr. Delgado, but I'm perfectly capable of dealing with cowardly scum." Lola smiled sharply. "You overestimate your worth to your employer, Mr. Lewis." Before any of the men around the table could register the motion, Lola had the big man pinned against the wall by the throat. As he choked and clawed at the cold fingers digging into his throat, she stretched lips almost burned away in a caricature of a grin. "I haven't spent centuries cultivating a relationship with Josef Kostan not to learn everything there is to know about him."
Lewis' face turned a reddish purple. "Lola...can't breathe..."
"My apologies, Mr. Lewis." Lola removed her fingers from the big man's neck. Before he could draw in a breath, she sank her fangs into his throat, tore out the skin and dropped him. Lewis hit the floor like a sack of flour, clutching at the gaping wound in his neck.
"I'll share a little secret with you, Mr. Lewis. A shame you won't be able to use it against me, as you're going to be dead in a few minutes." Lola knelt beside the big man as he gurgled and slowly drowned in his own blood. She leaned over his body and ran her tongue over his ear before putting her lips up close to it. "This is why I want St. John's bitch alive," she whispered as he grasped at his throat in a vain attempt to stem the flow of blood. "Her blood is rare, so rare that only a handful of the cattle carry it within their veins. That blood is going to heal me completely, is going to make me more beautiful than I was before her lapdog tried to kill me." Lola dipped a finger into the blood pulsing from the gaping hole in Lewis' throat. She licked at it delicately before sliding her finger into her mouth to suck it clean. "Tasty. Such a waste."
She turned to the table of criminals, Lewis' blood running down her chin. "Does anyone else care to express an opinion?" Heads were shaken vigorously in the negative. "Good. Get to work."
As the men filed out of the room armed with photos of their targets, Lola sent a macabre smile into the corner, where shadows gathered. "I hope you're not angry I used your name in vain, darling," she purred.
The shadows parted for the tall, well-built vampire that emerged from their embrace. He was dressed in a black leather jacket and jeans, feet encased in black boots. The feeble light reflected off auburn hair and the smile on his lips didn't quite reach eyes the color of aged whiskey. "Of course not. It was a necessary ruse." He gave a leftover picture of Mick an idle glance. "You've done exceptionally well, Lola. Some of the best killers in the country, human and vampire, were represented here tonight. One of them should be sucessful in satisfying your thirst for revenge." Josef brushed an imaginary speck off the jacket's sleeve. "I'd even put money on Delgado if I was a betting man. If he can get the drop on Mick, it should all be over quickly. Hector's quiet as a snake when he chooses to be. In addition, he has an unhealthy respect for women. Ms. Turner should come to you fairly unharmed, which is preferable. Her blood should be put to better use than healing any wounds she might receive if handled....roughly." Josef pursed his lips and tapped his finger against his chin. "I wonder if perhaps Mr. Delgado should receive a bit of a helping hand to ensure his success."
"I'm sure that can be arranged." Lola's bravado slipped and what was left of her chin quivered with uncertainty. "Are you sure this will work, Josef? Are you sure the human's blood will heal me?" Deep brown eyes, the only undamaged part of her, glittered with tears before they slipped through the waxy scars on her ruined face.
"Don't cry, lover." Josef took Lola gently into his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder and dissolved into wracking sobs. "Shhh, now," he soothed. "My scientists have made great strides in unraveling the mysteries of Ms. Turner's blood. Her blood must be the reason Mick was strong enough to defeat you...we're so close to discovering why." Josef pushed Lola back and tipped her chin up with a finger, then brushed his lips over hers. "Once Mick is dead, she's ours for the taking."
"You're so good to me, darling." Lola's words were muffled against his chest as she wrapped herself around him.
"Nothing but the best for you, lover." Josef caught his reflection in the dirty mirror on the wall. His eyes were cold and calculating, his lips curled into a sneer, his face twisted by the disgust he felt for the withered hag soaking his expensive silk shirt with her pathetic tears. What luck an annoyed Lance DuVall had dumped this hideous creature on his doorstep a few months ago - she was the perfect pawn to use to punish Mick for his betrayal. Mick had turned his back on the Community and had made Josef look weak, and for what? A human? Josef would see Mick sent to Hell with the knowledge that Beth would suffer for his insolence.
He'd told Lola the truth, in a way - he was determined to crack the secret of the restorative properties of Beth's blood. Since Mick had begun to tap that keg reguarly, he'd become stronger and had healed injuries faster. Selfish bastard that he was, Mick wouldn't allow any of Beth's blood to be used for experimentation, stating his Beth wouldn't be a lab rat for the Nation.
His Beth. As if Mick had sole claim on what could possibly be a very effective way for vampires to survive silver or fire. As if he had a say on how things would be handled in Josef's territory.
Mick had sealed his own fate the night he'd informed Josef that he and Beth were going to marry and Beth no longer wished Mick to be involved in Community affairs. Josef had been incredulous, then furious.
You can't have it both ways, boyo. You don't get to enjoy the benefits of the Tribe without sharing some of the burdens.
Mick, damn him to hell, had faced his friend, his brother, his blood and had quietly chosen the path to his certain demise.
Then I'll do without the benefits. Beth and I will be fine - I can protect her.
Perhaps, Josef had mused. But who's going to protect you?
Mick had chuckled and made his goodbyes. He had whistled as he walked out the front door and crunched down the driveway to climb into the vintage Mercedes, blissfully unaware that his life had just acquired an expiration date. The damage Josef had caused to his study after Mick had left had taken months to fix.
Mick would pay with his life. Beth would pay with her blood - and her body. Josef felt himself harden satisfactorily when he imagined Beth at his mercy, under his control. If he was careful with her, she would last many years. She would beg him to kill her, of course - but until she ceased to be of use to him, he would use her as he saw fit. Lola, thinking his arousal was for her, ground her hips into him and moaned, a soft, needy sound. When her hands fumbled for his belt buckle, he caught her wrists in a light grip.
"Not now, Lola...you're tired," he whispered in her ear before licking the burnt lobe. It felt like lumpy rubber under his tongue and he forced himself not to gag. Once Mick was dead and Beth was on her knees, Josef was going to take great pleasure in ridding the world of Lola. If she served her purpose well, he'd make her death quick and painless.
He was not, after all, a cruel man.
"Have the driver take you home so you can rest. I'll be along once I clean up here."
With one last grateful kiss, Lola pulled the cloak's hood back over her head and left, as silent as a cat. Once she was gone, Josef spat, trying to rid his mouth of her taste. He looked at the table and scowled; the stupid bitch had left the brick of money behind. He laid a hand on it, contemplating the currency.
Whoever had said one couldn't put a price on friendship was wrong.
In this case, it was worth a hundred grand.
*is skeerd of PNWgal's imagination*
Love me some evil Josef 
I love Josef and know he can be ruthless but this side of him scares me.
