Writing Contests! by @IamnotintheER ... Prompt Chapter: Round 1 ... Prompt: Pick a song and write a short story about the song. ... Due Friday, February 23rd, 2018

I chose the song: "My Type" by Saint Motel

"She's just my type," DeSoto said with a gleam in his sinfully black eyes.

"Yes," Arless replied sounding vaguely disgusted. "And what type is that DeSoto?"

"She's got a pulse and she's breathing," the younger vamp answered with a sensual smile that spread slowly across his perfectly symmetrical and intoxicatingly handsome face. Clearly there was some kind of hidden meaning in that ridiculous statement.

Arless responded with an undignified snort while watching, with keen interest, as DeSoto cast his eyes on the woman in question. She was casually leaning against the window case behind the settee DeSoto was lounging on. The two shared a look. An intense look. Arless couldn't tell whether they hated each other or they had some deep connection. Either way, he didn't like that look and he scoffed at DeSoto's cryptic comment.

DeSoto ignored him and continued to lay there peacefully, which irritated Arless to no end. Unable to sit still any longer, he rose with impatience from the wing-back chair he'd occupied the last hour. Clearly, his young friend was not taking the countless assassination attempts against him seriously if the person he chose as his personal bodyguard was nothing more than a half-blood Nahual. How could a half-human/were-jaguar hybrid possible protect DeSoto against the dark forces conspiring to bleed him dry, stake him and behead him? It was obvious that she was not up to the task at hand. The best she could be was a shield, but she was so small, no more than 5'8" and 140 lbs, that he doubted she'd make an effective one.

Arless caught DeSoto looking back at him with a subtle but mischievous glint in his eyes. It was a look Arless had seen too many times before. And, even though it was beneath him, he rolled his eyes at his friend. He couldn't help but feel that DeSoto was holding back, that he wasn't telling him everything there was to know about this half-blood Nahual.

Not being in-the-know really irked Arless. He pinned the half-blood with a glare. She pinned him right back with a predatory look that sent a foreboding chill down his spine. He couldn't be sure she wasn't part harpy with that death glare of hers. Regardless, he didn't trust her, and he never would. The truth was, he hated anything that came between him and DeSoto. Especially, something as innocuous and unimpressive as a human-feline hybrid.

She was so far beneath him, beneath DeSoto too, that Arless found it galling she was even in their presence. To add injury to the insult of her mere existence, she wasn't even afraid of either of them, when, by all rights, she should be quaking before them or at least looking the part. They were practically vamp royalty and what was she? Nothing! Less than nothing! A filthy half-blood! His canines elongated as his temper rose to new heights.

"Put your fangs away Arless," DeSoto said with a charming laugh. "Nya's are three inches longer and will do far more damage than yours." DeSoto was well aware of his friend's prejudices and tolerated them for old-time's sake.

Arless snarled at DeSoto and fixed him with a disgusted look before launching into a condescending lecture about his safety. "Honestly DeSoto, I couldn't be more disappointed with your choice of a protector. Even though you've never shown any true taste or class, I never realized that you had no standards at all. A pulse and breathing are hardly qualification for a pet, let alone a personal bodyguard. Your life is in danger DeSoto. You need to take this more seriously!"

Arless watched in dismay as DeSoto just closed his eyes and kept resting comfortably. He didn't know whether to cry, scream, or run the half-blood out of his home right away.

A moment later, as if aware Arless was about to internally combust, DeSoto said, "Give it up Arless. Nya is here to stay." He gave Arless a secretive smirk. "Honestly, I can vouch for her. She was a worthy choice. You won't be disappointed when the time comes." DeSoto tried to convince his overprotective friend. Seeing his words had no effect, he turned his head a little and graced his new protector, Nya, with a handsome smile. She wasn't the least bit interested in their conversation even though it was about her.

Arless felt like retching. It was one thing, when it came to meals, if a vamp loosened his standards a little. Even Arless had been desperate enough, a time or two in his excessively long life, to lower himself and drink from a throat or wrist that he wouldn't normally be caught dead touching. However, when it came to status symbols like pets and protectors (too often one and the same thing) a vamp of DeSoto's birth and rank should want the best, have the best, and never settle for anything but the best.

The best, in this case, would have been a Class One (or military grade) vamp, witch, or even vamp-lycanthrope hybrid. Any one of these would have done the job nicely and preserved a certain level of respect and dignity due DeSoto. Perhaps even a military grade werewolf might have sufficed, if DeSoto wanted to go bargain hunting for a bodyguard. If one got an alpha-grade werewolf, it could do some serious damage. However, what DeSoto had wasn't a Class One, Two or even Three protector? He had a half-blood Nahual human hybrid, which was equivalent to dragging in a beggar off the street as far as Arless was concerned! DeSoto's choice would almost be laughable if the circumstances weren't so dire.

Arless took another look at the half-blood who hadn't moved and was still leaning up against the window casing looking like she didn't have a care in the world. This thing was not military grade for sure. There was nothing about her, besides her predatory eyes that followed Arless everywhere he went, that indicated she would be any kind of threat toward the increasingly dangerous attacks that had been piling up against DeSoto. What Arless wanted to know was, how could this scrap of a human hybrid possibly protect DeSoto form assassination by creatures and beings who were hundreds of years older than her and a hundred times more powerful? She didn't stand a chance and DeSoto had to know it. So, why keep her by his side?

When Arless saw that DeSoto was not inclined to fill him in about his choice in bodyguard, he continued pressing him for information. "And just how is this creature supposed to protect you? She's not even a pure-blood Nahual. What can she do? What can she transform into? Or is she just a woman with some feline enhancements?" Arless waited for a response from DeSoto but none came. So he demanded to know, "Is she going to lay her life down for you when push comes to shove? Tell me that?"

He was shouting now, or nearly, which said a lot because Arless prided himself on always behaving like the aristocrat he was. Truthfully, he was at his wits end. DeSoto was sabotaging himself by bringing the hybrid on as his personal bodyguard. It was suicide for her and for him! And Arless could not wrap his brain around it.

Did DeSoto have a death wish now? If so, he didn't need some pathetic little hybrid to accomplish it. So, why drag her in to all of this and mess up their tidy little life and friendship with such a distasteful creature? Arless was sure DeSoto had to know how her presence would drive him mad. It was all so infuriating.

"She'll do just fine Arless," DeSoto asserted with some amusement. "Stop fussing like an old woman!" He teased with a shameless smirk. "Besides, as I said, she's just my type."

"Yes, yes, I heard you before," Arless said with exasperation. "She's got a pulse and she's breathing."

He couldn't stand it anymore. He had to get out of this room and away from that awful creature who was going to end up getting his dearest friend killed all because she was a weak and feeble half-blood Nahual.

But, when he reached the door and turned the handle, a sinister thought occurred to him. He half turned looking back at DeSoto, who was now standing up and watching him about to exit the room. Arless smiled morosely saying, "Well, she wont be your type for long if you live through the next assassination attempt. She's unlikely to survive and so I don't think she'll have a pulse or be breathing for much longer." Arless paused for effect and sneered at the woman triumphantly before adding, "I don't imagine a dead half-blood is your type at all DeSoto."

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