In the end, Billy Jean guzzled down five bags of blood, and the Zompige got one.

  A pretty fair split, if you ask me.

  The Zompige had never tasted anything so scrumptious before.

  After slurping it up, it was raring to go.

  It made up its mind to hitch its wagon to its friend's star, follow her around, and live the high life.

  Like they say, even fools get lucky sometimes.

  Judging by its friend's smarts, there were still plenty of good things in store.

  “Coo… You two hang tight. I'll scoot in and scope out the scene."

  The Zompige was all fired up.

  Keeping in mind that if it got banged up, there'd still be blood to chug, it wasn't too worried.

  “Roar… Then go. But be sneaky. I'll even ring the doorbell for you."

  Michael Joke jumped in quick.

  “Hold up a sec…”

  The Zompige froze.

  “Coo… Wait a…"

  “Ding-dong, ding-dong…”

  The second the doorbell rang, the girl and the bird were rooted to the spot.

  What happened to playing it cool?

  Before long, there was some rustling inside.

  Sounded like someone was making their way over.

  Michael Joke straightened Billy Jean's sunglasses and yanked her behind him.

  “Zip it. Stay put and let me handle this. Got it?”

  “Mm.”

  Billy Jean nodded like a bobble-head.

  Michael Joke shot a look at the Zompige.

  It got the message and flapped off.

  Michael Joke tuned his ears into the footsteps inside.

  There were a bunch of them.

  Not knowing what kind of firepower they were packing, he wasn't about to go guns blazing if he could help it.

  The door swung open.

  Before Michael Joke could get a word out, “whoosh,” a dozen guns were pointed right at them.

  Michael Joke:!!

  Billy Jean had never been in such a hairy situation.

  She was so spooked she threw her hands up like she was surrendering.

  “Michael , put your hands up! You wanna get shot?”

  Only then did Michael Joke slowly raise his mitts.

  “Step inside. And don't try anything funny.”

  The big, burly bruiser up front barked.

  Michael Joke glanced back at Billy Jean.

  Billy Jean nodded.

  Then, with their hands in the air, they shuffled into the villa like two meek lambs, guns trained on them.

  “Boom…”

  The door slammed shut.

  The Zompige, perched on a telephone pole, had a front-row seat to the whole fiasco and was pacing like a caged tiger.

  “Coo… We're toast. We're done for…"

  It didn't know what those things in their hands were, but it knew one thing: if you took a bullet to the head, you were a goner.

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  It'd seen plenty of vampires and humans bite the dust that way.

  “Coo… No way. I gotta round up some backup to save my friend. She's my first vampire pal. I can't let her go out like this."

  The Zompige spread its wings and took off.

  Michael Joke and Billy Jean strolled through the villa courtyard and spotted their military vehicle parked there.

  Guess the Zompige hadn't led them astray.

  But they were in the dark about why these guys had made such a ruckus and hauled them in without so much as a “by your leave.”

  One thing was for sure, it wasn't to offer them tea and crumpets.

  “Have a cuppa, you two.”

  Two steaming mugs of tea were plunked down in front of Michael Joke and Billy Jean.

  Michael Joke:!!

  Billy Jean:!!

  “Our young lady will be here in a jiffy. Sit tight and wait a spell.”

  The tough, burly bruiser stepped aside and clammed up.

  Michael Joke gave the villa interior the once-over.

  It was decked out like a palace.

  There were at least ten guards posted everywhere, so security was tighter than a drum.

  But here's the kicker: not a single woman in sight.

  Even the servants scurrying about, the ones fetching tea and water, were all men.

  Could it be the young lady had a thing against the fairer sex?

  Just then, the sharp click-clack of high heels echoed down the staircase.

  “Click… click…”

  Then every man in the room dipped their heads in the direction of the middle of the stairs and said, in hushed, respectful tones,

  “Young lady.”

  It was like a scene straight out of a gangster movie, when the underlings pay their respects to the big boss's dame.

  Pretty slick.

  Michael Joke and Billy Jean craned their necks and saw a stunner, about twenty-seven or -eight, with a figure that could stop traffic.

  She was rocking a dark green embroidered cheongsam, and every move she made was pure elegance personified.

  Facing this bombshell, Michael Joke's eyes didn't so much as twitch.

  He might as well have been looking at a block of wood.

  Billy Jean, on the other hand, couldn't take her eyes off the woman's face.

  There was a glimmer of doubt in her eyes.

  The cheongsam-clad lady sashayed down the stairs and made a beeline for the sofa.

  Then she perched herself across from Michael Joke and Billy Jean, as graceful as a swan.

  With a demure smile on her face, she didn't seem the least bit threatening.

  In fact, she was downright charming.

  Billy Jean wrinkled her nose ever so slightly.

  When the woman sat down, she caught a whiff of something familiar.

  But when she sniffed again, it was gone.

  She kept her eyes glued to the woman's pretty face, convinced something was off.

  “It's like she's wearing a mask or something.”

  Billy Jean mumbled under her breath.

  Michael Joke, sitting beside her, narrowed his eyes.

  At that moment, the cheongsam lady's dulcet tones filled the air:

  “I saw you two ringing the bell and thought I'd invite you in. My boys can be a bit overzealous. Hope you'll forgive the rough welcome.”

  When she spoke, Billy Jean's suspicions grew.

  It was like her face was a mask.

  The skin didn't move, but the muscles underneath did.

  “It's we who should apologize for barging in. You're very kind to overlook it. Thank you, Miss.”

  Michael Joke said, smooth as silk.

  He was like a blue-blooded aristocrat, all charm and grace.

  Paired with his drop-dead gorgeous face, he was impossible to ignore.

  The cheongsam lady beamed.

  “Guests are always welcome. No need to apologize. I'm Kelly, the lady of the manor. Welcome.”

  “Hello, I'm Michael Joke, and this is Billy Jean.”

  “Then who are you…”

  Kelly gave them the once-over.

  Michael Joke was about to speak when Billy Jean butted in.

  “Sis… ter.” She croaked.

  Michael Joke's face darkened a shade, but he kept mum.

  “Oh.” Kelly smiled and said,

  “I thought you two were an item.”

  “Miss Joke, is the light too harsh? Shall I have someone dim it?”

  Kelly asked, all concern.

  She was eyeballing the sunglasses on Billy Jean's face, and something flickered in her eyes.

  “Miss Kelly, my sister's blind. She's self-conscious about it, so she wears the shades.” Michael Joke said.

  Billy Jean kept a smile plastered on her face, but inside she was fuming:

  “Michael , you jerk. You couldn't come up with a better lie? I'm a knockout. Who'd buy that?”

  “I don't believe it. Unless you take them off and let me see.”

  A young stud walked in from outside the villa and said, loud and clear.

  Billy Jean adjusted her sunglasses and played it cool, but inside she was seething:

  “Michael , see? I told you. I'm a babe. No one's gonna believe it. Now look what you've gotten us into.”

  The young buck who walked in was about twenty-five.

  One of his arms was a shiny metal prosthetic.

  He was easy on the eyes, but there were dark circles under his eyes, a dead giveaway that he'd been burning the candle at both ends.

  He plopped down next to Kelly and draped his arm around her waist, all lovey-dovey.

  “Kelly, did you see the ride in the yard? Top-notch defense, performance, and safety. I snagged it just for you. You'll be cruising in style and safety.”

  “You're so sweet.”Kelly nodded, beaming.

  “That poor schmuck who owned it must've been gobsmacked when he saw it was gone. I swiped a ride with primo anti-theft tech like it was nothing. Haha…”

  The young man threw his head back and laughed.

  He had no clue the “poor schmuck” was sitting right across from him.

  Michael Joke's face was as red as a beet.

  Hehe! Very funny.

  No wonder he'd made off with his car so easily.

  So he was a metal-attribute superpower.

  Sensing Michael Joke's glare, the young man sneered at Kelly:

  “Where'd you dig up these losers? They're rude as hell. Strutting around in shades like they own the place. I bet they're con artists.”

  When he spoke, his gaze swept over Michael Joke and Billy Jean.

  Especially when he saw Michael Joke's movie-star looks, his face soured.

  “Albert, be nice to our guests. Apologize.”

  “Okay, I'll eat crow.”

  Albert eyeballed Michael Joke and Billy Jean.

  “I'm sorr…”

  Before he could finish, his eyes narrowed to slits, and his metal arm shot out at Billy Jean's sunglasses.

  Michael Joke's face turned to ice.

  He moved like lightning and blocked the metal arm.

  Billy Jean watched the metal arm inches from her face and didn't bat an eyelid, like she really was blind.

  “This guy's got a strange way of saying sorry.”

  Michael Joke sneered and dropped the nice-guy act.

  Lightning crackled in his palm and zapped into the metal arm.

  “Ah…”

  Albert yelped in pain and yanked his arm back.

  Sparks danced across the metal arm.

  “A thunder-attribute superpower.”

  He gasped.