look."
"And did you find Simon?" That was what John really wanted to know.
"Not yet."
Jess sat in the car waiting for the detective to finish his search of the grounds. It wasn't the waiting that bothered her so much as her total lack of defense . She felt too much like the proverbial sitting duck.
A shift in the shadows off to the side caught her attention and she watched a figure emerge. Expecting it to be John, she was surprised to discover it wasn't. Her first thought was that this could be the vampire and she squinted to bring his features into focus, but he was too far away. He moved away from the funeral home in a stumbling gait that was too slow to be a vampire's, and she allowed herself to relax a little as she watched him start across the driveway, passing about ten feet in front of the car.
As he moved under the glow of the driveway light, Jess saw that he was about her age, mid-twenties. He had a serious case of bed head, with his sandy blond hair mashed flat against the back of his head. His suit, by contrast, looked pressed and neat, although the patterned shirt looked out of place.
His attention seemed focused on the ground as he ambled along, almost as if he were drunk. The last thing they needed was a drunk wandering around with a vampire on the loose. Concerned for his safety, she considered getting out to warn him. Doubt made her hesitate.
Just then, he stopped walking and slowly turned to face her.
His eyes took on a reddish glow and when he smiled, she saw the two bloodstained fangs.
Alarm slammed through her and she reached for the driver's-side master door locks as he rushed the car. She heard the sound of all four locks snapping into place just as he threw himself against the door. Instinctively, she lurched backward, trying to get as far away from him as the car would allow.
He lowered his head to the window and stared at her, devouring her with his hungry gaze. From this close range, she saw that the decorative pattern across his shirt was actually a pattern of bloodstains.
It unnerved her to be this close without a stake or other weapon. She sat there, her fingers nervously fingering the locket about her neck as she prayed that the locks held under the vampire's efforts to get the door open. It seemed that the pounding against the door lasted forever, but then it stopped. Instead of going away, however, the vampire stared at her through the window. When their eyes met, he started to laugh.
John heard the blaring of his car's horn and swore. The damn woman was going to wake the dead with her impatience, he thought, trying to focus on what the vampire before him was saying. He tried to block the noise from his thoughts, but it wouldn't stop. Then he caught the pattern of horn blows—three long, three short, three long: S-O-S.
Trepidation shot through him and he took off running.
The first thing he saw when he rounded the corner of the funeral home was Simon Brody, looking as alive and well as he had the day his trial had ended, looming over the car. He was smashing his fist against the window, clearly intent on breaking it. John worried that he wouldn't get there in time to stop him.
Then the
Thompson
Park
vampire raced past him so fast that by comparison, John felt like he was barely moving. Brody froze in the middle of smashing the window and looked up. Then he turned and quickly disappeared into the night, with the
Thompson
Park
vampire still chasing him.
Knowing there was no way to catch either of them, John went to the car instead. He pulled the keys from his pocket as he ran and pressed the auto-unlock. When he reached the car, he found Jessica sitting unusually still, with the locket around her neck clutched in her fist. He worried she was in a state of deep shock.
"Are you hurt?" he asked as soon as he had the door open.
She didn't answer, so he ran his hands up and down her arms and legs dispassionately, searching for signs of injury. He even tipped her head from
"And did you find Simon?" That was what John really wanted to know.
"Not yet."
Jess sat in the car waiting for the detective to finish his search of the grounds. It wasn't the waiting that bothered her so much as her total lack of defense . She felt too much like the proverbial sitting duck.
A shift in the shadows off to the side caught her attention and she watched a figure emerge. Expecting it to be John, she was surprised to discover it wasn't. Her first thought was that this could be the vampire and she squinted to bring his features into focus, but he was too far away. He moved away from the funeral home in a stumbling gait that was too slow to be a vampire's, and she allowed herself to relax a little as she watched him start across the driveway, passing about ten feet in front of the car.
As he moved under the glow of the driveway light, Jess saw that he was about her age, mid-twenties. He had a serious case of bed head, with his sandy blond hair mashed flat against the back of his head. His suit, by contrast, looked pressed and neat, although the patterned shirt looked out of place.
His attention seemed focused on the ground as he ambled along, almost as if he were drunk. The last thing they needed was a drunk wandering around with a vampire on the loose. Concerned for his safety, she considered getting out to warn him. Doubt made her hesitate.
Just then, he stopped walking and slowly turned to face her.
His eyes took on a reddish glow and when he smiled, she saw the two bloodstained fangs.
Alarm slammed through her and she reached for the driver's-side master door locks as he rushed the car. She heard the sound of all four locks snapping into place just as he threw himself against the door. Instinctively, she lurched backward, trying to get as far away from him as the car would allow.
He lowered his head to the window and stared at her, devouring her with his hungry gaze. From this close range, she saw that the decorative pattern across his shirt was actually a pattern of bloodstains.
It unnerved her to be this close without a stake or other weapon. She sat there, her fingers nervously fingering the locket about her neck as she prayed that the locks held under the vampire's efforts to get the door open. It seemed that the pounding against the door lasted forever, but then it stopped. Instead of going away, however, the vampire stared at her through the window. When their eyes met, he started to laugh.
John heard the blaring of his car's horn and swore. The damn woman was going to wake the dead with her impatience, he thought, trying to focus on what the vampire before him was saying. He tried to block the noise from his thoughts, but it wouldn't stop. Then he caught the pattern of horn blows—three long, three short, three long: S-O-S.
Trepidation shot through him and he took off running.
The first thing he saw when he rounded the corner of the funeral home was Simon Brody, looking as alive and well as he had the day his trial had ended, looming over the car. He was smashing his fist against the window, clearly intent on breaking it. John worried that he wouldn't get there in time to stop him.
Then the
Thompson
Park
vampire raced past him so fast that by comparison, John felt like he was barely moving. Brody froze in the middle of smashing the window and looked up. Then he turned and quickly disappeared into the night, with the
Thompson
Park
vampire still chasing him.
Knowing there was no way to catch either of them, John went to the car instead. He pulled the keys from his pocket as he ran and pressed the auto-unlock. When he reached the car, he found Jessica sitting unusually still, with the locket around her neck clutched in her fist. He worried she was in a state of deep shock.
"Are you hurt?" he asked as soon as he had the door open.
She didn't answer, so he ran his hands up and down her arms and legs dispassionately, searching for signs of injury. He even tipped her head from
Similar Books
