Yes, it’s time for…The Rosie Hughes Project: THE END

Once again, stolen verbatim from the lovely and talented Rachel Caine:

So … if you’re not familiar with the Rosie Hughes Project, here’s a quick summary and some linkages:
——————————————-

In a nutshell, Rosie Hughes, vampire, has been forced to relocate and change her career, and now she’s a major distributor of Suzy Q cosmetics in Florida — a pink lady, living in the land that just about invented pastel.

Well, someone has to sell sunblock to the undead, now, don’t they? IT MIGHT AS WELL BE HER. As Rosie has opened up her markets (mainly through cheerfully illegal use of her vampire-based persuasion techniques), she’s made enemies, namely, the other Suzy Q reps. They’re taking it hard. And they’re not taking it lying down. In fact, they’ve hired the famed Max Hunter to put an end to Rosie’s reign of pink terror.

But, will even Max be able to stop the horror?

——————————————-

Chapter 1 - C.T. Adams
Chapter 2 - Cathy Clamp (scroll down)
Chapter 3 - Brad Sinor
Chapter 4 - Sue Sinor
Chapter 5 - Rachel Caine
Chapter 6 - Jackie Kessler
Chapter 7 - C.T. Adams
Chapter 8 - Cathy Clamp (scroll down)
Chapter 9 - Brad Sinor
Chapter 10 - Sue Sinor
Chapter 11 - Rachel Caine
Chapter 12 - Jackie Kessler
Chapter 13 - C.T. Adams
Chapter 14 - Cathy Clamp (scroll down)
Chapter 15 - Brad Sinor
Chapter 16 - Sue Sinor
Chapter 17 - Rachel Caine

And now, finally, here we are at …

Chapter 18: THE END

Okay, so the Slayer technically wasn’t one of the undead. But the look on Queen Vamp’s face when she’d announced that she, too, was a vampire had been priceless. So very Buffy Season 5, when she learned that Glory was a god. (But really, Buffy should’ve seen that one coming. Sarah Michelle — all hail — had played the stunned surprise beautifully.) And besides, whatever the Fallen (bikers on a holy mission — how amazing was that?) had done to her to keep her alive had also Matrixed her in a distinctly Neo way: The Slayer knew kung-fu. Whoa, indeed.

None of that had helped when Queen Vamp used the Slayer as a living shield and then had tossed away her like yesterday’s fashion. As the Slayer untangled herself from Ancient Hunter’s arms, she distinctly heard Queen Vamp taunt them with the classic: “Come and get me!” The Slayer saw a door marked “Private” swing shut, cutting off the vampire’s over-the-top laughter.

And speaking of over the top…what was the vamp supposed to be disguised as? A transvestite at a Julie Newmar convention? Yikes.

“Come on,” Ancient Dude said, already leaping over the piles of ash and — ooh, shiny earrings — left behind when the Slayer had, appropriately enough, slain the vampire receptionist. “She’s getting away!”

“Let her go,” one of the Fallen shouted as he rummaged through his backpack. “We’ll just take the building down around her.”

That stopped Ancient Dude. “You crazy? You can’t destroy this place. It’s a spa. There could be regular humans here.”

“There aren’t,” the Slayer said, which made Ancient Dude and Biker Dude look at her. Embarrassed, she brushed tendrils of hair away from her face; the rest of her mass of curls were pulled back in a sloppy French twist. “Hello, vampire receptionist? With a shotgun? Not exactly encouraging human clientele.” What she didn’t say was that she didn’t smell any humans in the building other than the hero and the band of bikers. That sort of squicked her out, so she kept that to herself.

“You don’t know that,” the hero said, giving her this weirdo look. “They probably have human clients and eat them.”

“Right,” the Slayer sighed dramatically. “Because the Black Rock Day Spa is easily confused with the Roach Motel. Come on, Grandpa. You really think that they could get away with killing people here?”

“Yes.”

Frustrated by how slow the man was, she started filing her nails with the stake.

“The girl’s right, Hunter,” Biker Leader said. “I’d know if there were any innocents here. We’re clear.”

Ancient Dude and Biker Dude did the male eye-lock thing, and the Slayer wouldn’t have been surprised if they would’ve whipped out their yardsticks and had a pissing contest. But the hot old guy shrugged and said, “I trust you, Ryk. Okay, fine. What’ve you got in mind?”

Ryk grinned. “Say hello to Anita.” With that, he pulled out a stuffed penguin from his backpack.

Ancient Hunter laughed. “Penguins. Had to be penguins. I left a few at the vamp’s lair, but the flamingos went first. Anything after that was overkill.”

“Hey,” the Slayer said with a frown. “Not that I’m opposed to cute flightless birds. But what’s the big, exactly?”

“Anita’s filled with enough C4 to blast this place back to the Stone Age.”

“Penguins and explosions,” the Slayer mused. “Cool.”

“And just to be sure we get her…” Ryk motioned to the other bikers, and they each pulled out their own birds. And not the kind you do with your finger.

“Sweet,” Hunter said. He was grinning hugely, and his eyes were shining, almost overflowing with passion.

The Slayer smiled at thim. So what that the dude was like thirty? He was throw-me-down-on-the-floor hawt. He was…

His neck so strong so large and the artery right there just pulsing with life and bet it’s better than chocolate–

…totally lickable.

She frowned, touched her fingers to her forehead. Huh. For a moment there, she’d felt…

You know you want to. Look at him. So filled with blood. Just waiting for you to take a taste–

“Mary Ssss?”

The Slayer blinked, then stared up at Max Hunter.

“Why’re you drooling?”

Oh. Oh no she didn’t…

Do it, Mary Ssss. Bite him. Or one of the bald biker fellows. But they’ll probably be quite smelly. Road dirt, you know. Better to do it to Max. Bite him, Mary Ssss —

“Mary Ssss…? Why’re you licking your lips?”

The Slayer threw back her head and screeched, “MY NAME IS MARY BETH, YOU LOSERS! GET IT RIGHT!!!” And then she barreled through the door marked “Private.”

#

“Huh,” Max said, staring at the door as it swung shut.

“Yeah,” said Ryk.

“Kids can be so sensitive.”

“Tell me about it. You should’ve seen what my boy did when he turned thirteen.”

“Tats?”

“I wish. He turned preppie.”

“Sorry, man.” Max frowned at the closed door. “You saw, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Between her eyes flashing red and the fangs…well.” Ryk sighed. “We did the best we could. But it wasn’t enough.”

“Rosie got to her,” Max said, feeling strangely empty. He should have been furious, or sick to his stomach, or…something. But all he felt was a gap where his heart should have been. Mary, the poor, stupid wannabe Buffy, was gone.

“Your call,” Ryk said. “You say the word, we’ll still have Anita do her job and blow the vampire to hell. Or we can try to go after them both.” He didn’t say the rest of it: they’d have to take down the kid along with Rosie.

Ah, hell. “Line up the penguins.”

#

It only took her a minute to find the vampire, even with all the twisty turns and weird hallways and flights of stairs. It was like the vampire was reeling her in, and she was flopping along like a good fishie.

The Slayer should have been scared. Instead, she was practically skipping with joy. The things she could see, even in the dark! The things she could smell! God, it was better than watching Hugh Jackman as Wolverine!

When she found her prey, the Queen Vamp was sitting in a plush chair as another vampire filed her nails. Queenie glanced up and smiled, showing fang. “Hello, dear. Did you stop to have a bite before you came to see me?”

“Can’t say as I have.”

“Well, here.” Queenie flung the other vampire to her. The Slayer caught the flailing creature on the business-end of her stake, and poof: ash-shower. “No, dear,” Queenie chided. “You’re supposed to drink from the vampire, not slay her.”

“See, that’s a problem,” the Slayer said, still drunk from her strengthened senses. “Because I’m a slayer, not a drinker.”

“A vampire with a drinking problem?” Queenie said. “How droll. At least you’re not broody…”

“I’m not a vampire,” the Slayer said, slowly approaching her prey.

“No? You said you were.”

“I lied.”

“Terribly unsporting of you.”

“Probably why I always got picked last for dodgeball.” She lunged at the vampire, but the creature moved like lightning, sidestepping easily, and now snaking a hand around the Slayer’s throat.

“That might be more due to your combination skin and the unfortunate bumper crop of pimples on your brow.” She lifted the Slayer off the ground and started choking her. “Really, hasn’t your mother taught you anything about concealer?”

“Gak,” said the Slayer, meaning: “Go to hell, you spawn of the Devil!” She kicked out, but the vampire held her at arm’s length. Black spots danced at the corners of her vision.

“And your hair is just dreadful. Conditioner, child. It was invented for a reason.”

“Ffff.”

“Such language.” The vampire shook her, and the Slayer dropped the stake. “And your eyes. Let’s have a look. My. So very red.” With a laugh, the vampire dropped her.

Gasping, the Slayer lay on the floor and tried to take a full breath.

“Don’t bother, dear. I’ve crushed your windpipe. Oh, don’t look so sad. You’ll heal in a moment.”

The Slayer wheezed.

Queenie stooped down and picked up the stake. “So much fuss, and all because I wanted to make a living. Really,” she said, frowning at the Slayer, “it’s not like I asked for any of this. Do you know what it’s like to lose a lifetime’s investments, all because your pathetic human financial adviser was more crooked than Hades himself? And when I say ‘lifetime,’ I’m talking in millennia.”

The Slayer pulled herself to her knees.

“I’ve worked so hard to steal people’s fortunes over the years. And then it was all gone.” The vampire sighed as she crushed the stake into splinters. “I had to start over. And really, what was I supposed to do? Feed on waitresses?”

Now the Slayer was staring up at the vampire, and their gazes locked.

“Suzy Q Cosmetics was a dream come true,” the monster said. “So lovely and pink, and so convenient, once I figured out how to strengthen the sunblock so that it lived up to its name. It’ll take more than Max Hunter and his little wannabe protege to stop me.” She smiled, her lips shining wetly. “But of course, you’re not exactly his protege anymore, are you?” She held her hand out.

And, to the Slayer’s extreme surprise, she took the vampire’s hand.

“You and I will be a wonderful team,” the creature said. “Once we get you a proper makeover and increase the iron in your diet, you’ll be a new person. What do you say to that?”

“Two things,” said the Slayer. “First, you know that this building is wired to explode any second now, right?”

The vampire’s eyes widened, perhaps in fear.

“And second, I read Colleen Gleason.” With that, the Slayer whipped out the stake from her hair and slammed it into the monster’s heart.

The vampire let out a startled “Oh,” and then she poofed into nothingness.

The Slayer stared at the pile of ash. And then she hauled butt out of the spa.

#

“Three…two…one…boom.” Ryk pressed the detonator, and…well, like he said. Boom.

Max watched the building fall in upon itself, burying the evil within…as well as the victim of that evil. You’ve been avenged, Mary Beth, he told himself. He still felt hollow, even cold. Maybe that would change when he got the rest of his money from his clients.

Maybe it wouldn’t.

They couldn’t stick around, of course; the police were notoriously unforgiving of vampire hunters blowing up property. But as Max slid into his car, he thought he saw a teenage girl bursting out of the dust and debris. He blinked, and the figure was gone.

Had to be a trick of the light. Or of his heart.

He gunned out of there, leaving the smoldering ruins of the Black Rock Day Spa far behind him…along with the memory of a girl whose full name he’d never gotten.

Rest in peace, Mary Beth.

And Rosie, give the Devil a kiss, would you?

Max Hunter drove off, backlit by the flames of righteous fury.

#

The Slayer watched the hunter and the bikers leave. She’d always wanted to learn how to drive a Harley. Maybe, if she asked really nice, the Fallen could teach her, even hook her up with some awesome leather pants, like the sort Sarah Michelle — all hail — wore in Season 4.

Like the pink ones. Yeah. Pink leather sounded…lovely.

She smiled, her fangs dimpling her bottom lip. Once she completed her makeover, she’d have to find Max Hunter. And then, they could…talk.

The Slayer laughed, the sound caught in the roar of the fire. And then she walked out into the afternoon, the sun not damaging her skin, the bloodlust still a thing of the future.

STAY TUNED FOR THE EPILOGUE!!!