my teeth.
My head cleared for a split second.
It was all I needed.
My empty hand dragged out the cross and medal hanging around my neck under my shirt. They lit up as they cleared the cloth. Clean holy light washed over me. The little demon eating my arm whimpered in protest and tried to slide his body away from the light, deadly mouth still locked in my flesh. The pressure in my shoulder let go as his grip loosened. My fingers dug in, grabbing a spindly leg and peeling him away.
The baby vamp tried to hold on, but I was determined to get him the hell off me. I had a firm grasp on the leg, wrenching it away from me. The claws furrowed through my skin, leaving thin ribbons of cuts. Still, I yanked until I had it free except for the mouth and one arm. Its tiny body stretched from my arm to my hand. It was like a leech or a tick. Clamped on, dug in, and not letting go.
The teeth came away in a screech of protest, a gush of blood, and the loss of a small mouthful of my flesh.
The baby Nosferatu screamed and cried, pulling with the arm still, snapping at the air with a bloody mouth full of murder. I gave a heave, yanking from deepest part of my gut to tear it off. It dangled in the air, held tight by my fist around its leg.
Whirling it around I smashed it against the concrete and stumbled up to my feet. The bloodsucker bounced and skidded a few feet. Tumbling and rolling to a stop, it got its feet under itself. Those big cartoon eyes turned up at me, limpid pools of hate and hunger glowing scarlet. It crouched, gathering itself to leap, and snarled at me. A high-pitched scream tore from it as leaped in a blur. Talons out, fangs flashing, it flew for my throat.
The silver bullet took its head apart in midair.
My hand hurt from firing my back-up gun. The snub-nose .44 magnum revolver had a helluva kick. I stepped over to the baby Nosferatu. It sprawled, top of its head gone, evil mouth still biting slowly. My finger twitched over and over, emptying the cylinder of bullets into the vampire. The little bastard bloodsucker turned to dust before the hammer clicked empty.
I stood swaying, watching the water wash it away like its vampire mother. A deep breath sent me into a coughing fit, lungs burning and my throat on fire. I picked up my Desert Eagle and the flashlight and started moving down the tunnel.
It was time to get the fuck out of this hellhole.
11
Polecats was busy as hell. Girls dancing on poles, spinning like angels, and swaying on stages and tables like succubi. Men throwing money at them like rigged slot machines. The air was heavy with a haze of cigarette smoke, perfume, bullshit, and rock ’n’ roll.
I sat at my table in the back by the DJ’s booth. It was the quietest place on the floor; all the speakers that belted out rock, country, and blues were facing toward the rest of the club, and I’d had the booth built with floor-to-ceiling walls thick with insulation. You could talk in my booth without yelling into someone’s ear.
Jimmy the zookeeper sat across from me, all dressed up for a night out on the town. Mullet gelled to perfection, he was wearing a button-up shirt and a dark pair of jeans. The only thing out of place was the line of stitches over his right eyebrow where the Nosferatu had smacked him. He was nursing a longneck beer and watching Cinnamon on stage a few feet away. Cinnamon was her real name. No customers believed her when she told them so she went with it.
She was worth watching, a skimpy gold bikini and a short tasseled belt accentuated the roll of her hips and the sway of everything else. It looked good against her mocha skin. She was a sweet girl and a good dancer, which is what got her kidnapped by a cult that worshiped Ishtar. They were planning on hollowing her out and filling her with the essence of Ishtar.
I had put a stop to that, so now she danced at my club safe and sound.
I picked up my Red-Headed Slut, the most delicious adult beverage in the world. “How are
My head cleared for a split second.
It was all I needed.
My empty hand dragged out the cross and medal hanging around my neck under my shirt. They lit up as they cleared the cloth. Clean holy light washed over me. The little demon eating my arm whimpered in protest and tried to slide his body away from the light, deadly mouth still locked in my flesh. The pressure in my shoulder let go as his grip loosened. My fingers dug in, grabbing a spindly leg and peeling him away.
The baby vamp tried to hold on, but I was determined to get him the hell off me. I had a firm grasp on the leg, wrenching it away from me. The claws furrowed through my skin, leaving thin ribbons of cuts. Still, I yanked until I had it free except for the mouth and one arm. Its tiny body stretched from my arm to my hand. It was like a leech or a tick. Clamped on, dug in, and not letting go.
The teeth came away in a screech of protest, a gush of blood, and the loss of a small mouthful of my flesh.
The baby Nosferatu screamed and cried, pulling with the arm still, snapping at the air with a bloody mouth full of murder. I gave a heave, yanking from deepest part of my gut to tear it off. It dangled in the air, held tight by my fist around its leg.
Whirling it around I smashed it against the concrete and stumbled up to my feet. The bloodsucker bounced and skidded a few feet. Tumbling and rolling to a stop, it got its feet under itself. Those big cartoon eyes turned up at me, limpid pools of hate and hunger glowing scarlet. It crouched, gathering itself to leap, and snarled at me. A high-pitched scream tore from it as leaped in a blur. Talons out, fangs flashing, it flew for my throat.
The silver bullet took its head apart in midair.
My hand hurt from firing my back-up gun. The snub-nose .44 magnum revolver had a helluva kick. I stepped over to the baby Nosferatu. It sprawled, top of its head gone, evil mouth still biting slowly. My finger twitched over and over, emptying the cylinder of bullets into the vampire. The little bastard bloodsucker turned to dust before the hammer clicked empty.
I stood swaying, watching the water wash it away like its vampire mother. A deep breath sent me into a coughing fit, lungs burning and my throat on fire. I picked up my Desert Eagle and the flashlight and started moving down the tunnel.
It was time to get the fuck out of this hellhole.
11
Polecats was busy as hell. Girls dancing on poles, spinning like angels, and swaying on stages and tables like succubi. Men throwing money at them like rigged slot machines. The air was heavy with a haze of cigarette smoke, perfume, bullshit, and rock ’n’ roll.
I sat at my table in the back by the DJ’s booth. It was the quietest place on the floor; all the speakers that belted out rock, country, and blues were facing toward the rest of the club, and I’d had the booth built with floor-to-ceiling walls thick with insulation. You could talk in my booth without yelling into someone’s ear.
Jimmy the zookeeper sat across from me, all dressed up for a night out on the town. Mullet gelled to perfection, he was wearing a button-up shirt and a dark pair of jeans. The only thing out of place was the line of stitches over his right eyebrow where the Nosferatu had smacked him. He was nursing a longneck beer and watching Cinnamon on stage a few feet away. Cinnamon was her real name. No customers believed her when she told them so she went with it.
She was worth watching, a skimpy gold bikini and a short tasseled belt accentuated the roll of her hips and the sway of everything else. It looked good against her mocha skin. She was a sweet girl and a good dancer, which is what got her kidnapped by a cult that worshiped Ishtar. They were planning on hollowing her out and filling her with the essence of Ishtar.
I had put a stop to that, so now she danced at my club safe and sound.
I picked up my Red-Headed Slut, the most delicious adult beverage in the world. “How are
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