florescent
lamplight. Wearing baggy jeans and a plaid shirt, sleeves removed, he looked
like a normal truck driver. He shifted his dirty baseball cap back on his head,
exposing a thatch of muddy-brown hair.
Holy crap did he smell!
Wanting to pinch her nose off from the awful odor,
her eyes watered from the stench. Drooling, the man grinned, exposing rows of
sharp, jagged teeth. She backed up, bumping into the car.
No way to escape!
“Such are a pretty little thing. Ain't she, Stan?”
A scrawny vampire materialized beside the obese one.
“Yes siree, Carl. She sure is sweet-looking,”
Two? Aw, crap. Figures. First time meeting the
Damned and they’re redneck vamps hunting at a truck stop. Great, just how my
luck’s running lately.
Carl reached out a claw-like hand to caress her cheek,
cackling when she flinched. “What's wrong, honey? I bet you’ve never met a
vampire before?”
Her dogs
were barking, clawing at the window to get out of the car and help her. With her
back against the door, she had no room to open it. Reaching out to Rathe, she
found herself looking through his eyes and saw the big, burly truck
driver he was feeding on. Rathe released the man, searching around him.
“What the hell? How are you—?”
“I'm in big trouble here.” She showed him the vampires
through her eyes.
“Stay calm and do not take your eyes off
either of them. I'm on my way to you.”
“Yeah, right, I'm about to become a snack, and
you tell me to keep calm? Sure, why not.”
Silence.
“See, Stan, she's gots the hots fer ya. Go on and
make yer acquaintances,” Carl urged his friend.
Giggling, Stan sidled next to her. “C’mere,
darling, I’ll make it real nice.” His voice changed, deepened as his eyes
turned red, “For me.” He grinned, exposing rows upon rows of needle-sharp
teeth. Saliva dripped down his chin as he flicked his tongue at her.
“Sorry, you’re not my type,” she managed to say,
trying to buy time for him to return.
“And what type are
we?” Carl asked, his eyes narrowing.
“You’re Damned, aren’t you?”
“Well, shi -it,
Stan. She knows about us. Well, lady, lucky for you, me and Stan are the only
vampires hunting here.”
“Here, as in Phoenix?”
“No, here at the truck stop, sweetness. We don’t
like Phoenix. Its hunting ground for some seriously twisted vamps. It’s safer
for us out here.” Sniffing her, he jerked upright. “You’re different. A
vampire’s tasted you before. Hell, you’ve got vamp blood in you. Why didn’t you
turn?” Pursing his lips, he stated bluntly, “A Borne fed on you. Took a little
too much, didn’t he?”
“Carl,” Stan sounded worried, “we should just let
the little bitch go. Messing with a Borne is bad. Real bad.”
“Ah, don’t get a wedgy in yer tighty-widies, Stan.
Bornes are forbidden to turn humans, remember? Whoever gave her blood ditched
her and split before any of his kind can find out what he’d done. Don’t want to
be executed for breaking their precious laws.” He grabbed a fistful of her
hair, making her wince. “Since you’re almost turned, let’s finish it. Wanna be
a vamp? We’ll make it real special for ya, we promise.” He exchanged a big grin
with his friend.
“Well, sorry to break it to you, but he didn’t
abandon me.”
“Huh?”
“He’s behind you.”
They turned around when Rathe said, “Gentlemen.”
Resting on his shoulder, he held a broadsword. “Introductions are not
necessary, are they?”
Hysterical, she thought, Where in the hell did Rathe get a sword?
“Slayer, your elders disbanded you and forbade you
hunting our kind! We’re protec—”The blade flashed
blue fire as Rathe swung his sword with both hands. Carl’s head flew, bouncing
when it hit the pavement. His body slowly crumpled to the ground. Green,
nasty-smelling blood oozed out of the severed neck,
Stan grabbed her, using her as a shield. “You’re
him, aren’t you?”
“Let her go and I might
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