Crossroads by Jeanne C. Stein

Latino or Middle Eastern?
    I point to the humans. Let them go.
    The vampire tilts her head to one side, studying me. Physically, we are evenly matched. She is weighing her options.
    You have no options.
    She is cloaking her thoughts. Then, abruptly, she says, Perhaps you are right. These two are of no consequence.
    Do they speak English?
    A nod.
    I drag my eyes away from her, motion to the couple. “The border is three miles straight ahead. There is a tear in the fence. You can make it on your own.”
    I am trying very hard to sound human. Even to my own ears, my voice is rough. It comes from my gut, not my vocal cords. A growl.
    The humans are mesmerized. They can’t look away from my eyes.
    The vampire raises a hand, strokes the hair of the woman. They want to stay with me.
    She has not shown her true nature. The woman steps behind her for protection. The vampire laughs.
    The fury in me builds. I realize her intention. Her mouth opens, her teeth gnash. She reaches behind to pull the woman forward.
    I have her neck before she can grab the woman. I pull her away and spin her around, showing the cowering couple the true face of their savior.
    They jump back, mouths open in astonishment.
    The vampire laughs again. I force her to her knees. Reach into the pocket of her jacket. Pull a wad of bills from inside. Toss it to the man.
    “Take your money. Go. Now.”
    This time, there is no hesitation. They circle around us in a wide arc, uncomprehending, fearful the creatures might change their minds. Then they’re off, running across the desert floor.
    I hold the vampire on the ground until the rustle of their clothes, the sound of their footsteps is a distant echo.
    You could have let me keep the money.
    She is not afraid.
    Why?
    Do you know who I am?
    Everyone of our race knows who you are.
    Then you know I can’t let you go.
    Still no reaction. Her mind is closed. Mine is not. Do you think because you are not resisting I will spare you?
    I think you will spare me because I have something to offer you.
    I pull her to her feet. She faces me squarely. We are the same height. Her dark eyes have changed back, she still holds the vampire in check. She wears jeans and a blouse that skims her shoulders, a denim jacket. Her hair is tied back from her face with a scarf. She looks about twenty-five. Her thoughts are much older, much darker.
    The creature before me radiates malevolence. She has killed for a hundred years. She has a taste for it. Lust for blood oozes from her pores like the foul smell of rotting meat. My instinct to kill her now and quickly battles with a desire to learn what a being like this thinks she can offer me.
    See? You are curious.
    I backhand her across the face. She flies fifty feet and lands on a barrel cactus.
    She struggles to her feet. Damn, bitch. That hurt.
    I’m at her side with my hands around her throat before she can finish whining.
    She still has not released the beast. I can feel her fury building. She wants to. What is holding her back?
    I have killed vampires before. Vampires more powerful than this sniveling female. It can be done many ways. This one, however, deserves to die slowly. The same way she has killed the helpless humans she’s lured to this place with a promise of a new life. She will feel her life ebb away drop by drop until there is nothing left but an empty husk.
    I am done with you.
    For the first time, something besides sarcasm and confidence flickers in the depths of her eyes. Fear is there, too. She pulls away, her hands on my arms as she tries to break my grip. Her struggles are fruitless.
    But I have something you want. Information I am willing to offer in return for my life.
    You have recklessly taken human life. Left bodies to be discovered—
    No one of importance. No one who will be missed. I have incited no threat against us. Why should it matter to you that I thin the ranks of the miserable? I do them a service, ending their pathetic lives.
    Her attitude is like a