hard-working young waitress. But now, apparently, she’s paid her dues and gets to sit on her fat ass all night. It warms the heart to know she made the most out of the second chance I gave her back then. And all she had to do to earn that chance was slit her manager’s throat.” She smiled at the gray-haired woman again. “I suppose you left that part out of your account of the incident to the police, eh?”
The woman screamed throughout this speech.
David glanced around, becoming decidedly nervous again. Everyone in the place was watching them warily now, eyes shaded with confusion and heaping helpings of mistrust. One of the obese trio, the woman, shoved another thick strip of bacon into her mouth as she watched them. David had a sudden urge to seize her and fill her throat with every scrap of food in the place, just keep shoving it all in until she choked on it.
The waitress shot glares at each of them as she hurried to the counter and tried to engage the screaming woman. “Martha! Martha! What’s wrong? Who are these people?”
Martha pointed a shaky finger at Narcisa. “It’s her. The murdering bitch who killed all my friends in the ’70s.”
The waitress’s eyes narrowed with obvious skepticism as she appraised Narcisa again. “Martha…this girl’s barely more than twenty. She can’t be the—”
Martha resumed her screeching: “ IT’S HER! ”
The two fat men at the counter glanced at each other. One of them wiped grease from his fingers with a well-soiled napkin and said, “Somethin’ funny’s happening here.”
The other one answered, “Uh huh.”
David guessed the trio’s combined IQ might just reach the triple digits.
The waitress managed a strained smile as she addressed Narcisa. “Ma’am, maybe you and your friend should just go. Martha’s overworked and tired and needs to calm down. We’re awfully sorry for the inconvenience.”
Narcisa giggled. “Oh no, we’re not leaving. You see, she’s one-hundred percent right. I killed Martha’s friends way back when, with a little assistance from her, and now I’m back to further reduce the moron population.”
The cook emerged from behind the partition. He clutched a large caliber revolver in a meaty hand. “Get out before I call the police.”
Narcisa rolled her eyes. She leapt cat-like onto the counter, then dropped down on the floor behind it. This happened faster than anyone could blink. She pried the pistol from the cook’s big hand, pointed the barrel at his face, and squeezed the trigger.
BAM!
The bullet blew a big hole through the center of the man’s face and a bigger one out the back of his head. A spray of blood and bone fragments sailed over the partition and splashed on the sizzling oven on the other side. His big body dropped like a rock, toppling backward against a sink and knocking over stacks of just-cleaned glasses, which rolled off and shattered on the floor. Suddenly everything was chaos and noise. The Mexican janitor dropped his mop and made a run for the door. David intercepted him before he could get there. The man fought hard at first, landing a solid, hammering punch to the side of David’s head that would have turned his lights out if he’d still been human. But David the vampire was unfazed. He grabbed the man’s wrist and spun him around. The man continued to struggle as David drove him down to the floor. He took the feisty janitor out of the equation by breaking his legs. The loud snapping of bones was very satisfying. He then left the broken man squalling on the floor to deal with the waitress, who was the next to try for the door.
He got there well ahead of her, leering lasciviously as he blocked the door. “Sorry, not happening. We’re just getting started.”
Her eyes filled with tears and looked even redder than before. “Please…I have a kid.”
David smirked. “Your kid had a mom.” He chuckled. “Notice the tense I used?”
She fell to her knees before him, hands clasped
The woman screamed throughout this speech.
David glanced around, becoming decidedly nervous again. Everyone in the place was watching them warily now, eyes shaded with confusion and heaping helpings of mistrust. One of the obese trio, the woman, shoved another thick strip of bacon into her mouth as she watched them. David had a sudden urge to seize her and fill her throat with every scrap of food in the place, just keep shoving it all in until she choked on it.
The waitress shot glares at each of them as she hurried to the counter and tried to engage the screaming woman. “Martha! Martha! What’s wrong? Who are these people?”
Martha pointed a shaky finger at Narcisa. “It’s her. The murdering bitch who killed all my friends in the ’70s.”
The waitress’s eyes narrowed with obvious skepticism as she appraised Narcisa again. “Martha…this girl’s barely more than twenty. She can’t be the—”
Martha resumed her screeching: “ IT’S HER! ”
The two fat men at the counter glanced at each other. One of them wiped grease from his fingers with a well-soiled napkin and said, “Somethin’ funny’s happening here.”
The other one answered, “Uh huh.”
David guessed the trio’s combined IQ might just reach the triple digits.
The waitress managed a strained smile as she addressed Narcisa. “Ma’am, maybe you and your friend should just go. Martha’s overworked and tired and needs to calm down. We’re awfully sorry for the inconvenience.”
Narcisa giggled. “Oh no, we’re not leaving. You see, she’s one-hundred percent right. I killed Martha’s friends way back when, with a little assistance from her, and now I’m back to further reduce the moron population.”
The cook emerged from behind the partition. He clutched a large caliber revolver in a meaty hand. “Get out before I call the police.”
Narcisa rolled her eyes. She leapt cat-like onto the counter, then dropped down on the floor behind it. This happened faster than anyone could blink. She pried the pistol from the cook’s big hand, pointed the barrel at his face, and squeezed the trigger.
BAM!
The bullet blew a big hole through the center of the man’s face and a bigger one out the back of his head. A spray of blood and bone fragments sailed over the partition and splashed on the sizzling oven on the other side. His big body dropped like a rock, toppling backward against a sink and knocking over stacks of just-cleaned glasses, which rolled off and shattered on the floor. Suddenly everything was chaos and noise. The Mexican janitor dropped his mop and made a run for the door. David intercepted him before he could get there. The man fought hard at first, landing a solid, hammering punch to the side of David’s head that would have turned his lights out if he’d still been human. But David the vampire was unfazed. He grabbed the man’s wrist and spun him around. The man continued to struggle as David drove him down to the floor. He took the feisty janitor out of the equation by breaking his legs. The loud snapping of bones was very satisfying. He then left the broken man squalling on the floor to deal with the waitress, who was the next to try for the door.
He got there well ahead of her, leering lasciviously as he blocked the door. “Sorry, not happening. We’re just getting started.”
Her eyes filled with tears and looked even redder than before. “Please…I have a kid.”
David smirked. “Your kid had a mom.” He chuckled. “Notice the tense I used?”
She fell to her knees before him, hands clasped
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