Last Vampire Standing
“In black leather pants, a white poet’s shirt, and his hair tied back to show the healing wound on his forehead, he looked like a Shakespearean biker dude.
His eyes, though, blazed with dead serious intent. In spite of that outfit, I realized that Jo-Jo could be as potentially dangerous as anyone else, human or vampire.
“Who the hell are you?” Gorman demanded.
“I am Jo-Jo the Jester, champion of the fair Francesca, Most Royal Highness of the House of King Normand.”
“You’re one of the freakin’ new vampires in town?”
Jo-Jo waved the sword. “Step away from the princess before I run you through.”
“Uh, Jo-Jo,” I said, having eased from Gorman and Kevin on my own. “That’s a rubber sword.”
He blinked, twirled the sword in a blur of speed, and tapped the tip on the bricked surface of the plaza.
“Zounds! Never mind, my princess. I shall fight with my bare hands if necessary.”
Gorman’s perpetual scowl contorted. The corners of his mouth twisted upward, and he wheezed a sound I realized was laughter.
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