to late thirties, but looks could be deceiving. The only true way to tell a vamps age was by the iris. Somewhere around the hundred year mark the iris begins to turn a shade of red, the hue growing deeper and richer with age.
He and the women were placing large flat stones before the fire, almost like an altar. What was this?
This was occult stuff, not vamp. Vamps were more the drink ‘em and kill ‘em type.
I didn’t have to wait long to find out what was going on.
The third vamp returned, towing the limp body of the girl. Her head flopped, her feet dragged, it was clear she was unconscious maybe even comatose if the smashed in nose, distorted face and sliced bottom lip had anything to say about it.
The three grabbed the girl and placed her on the altar. One had her by the ankles, another by the wrists, the red head then walked around to the side of the girl and shucked off her robe. She was nude save for a Kopis she had belted at her waist—a wicked knife with at least a fifteen inch blade and curved at the center.
Clearly red head was the leader, which meant if she went down the others would likely flee. I’d kill her first.
I stretched my senses trying to feel that shiver of paras. Trying to make certain what I saw in front of me was all there was. I frowned. I felt the shiver all right, but my gut told me something was off. I didn’t know what it was and I didn’t have time to dwell on it longer. I just hoped whatever it was didn’t come back and bite me in the ass later.
Red head grabbed the blade and held it high over her head. The stance dramatic and theatrical.
The girl groaned.
I threw the knife at the redhead but at the final second the bald vamp shifted to the side of the alter just enough for the blade to find him instead. His knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground.
“Dammit.” I reached for another knife, but it was too late. Rather than run, which is what I would have expected the pathetic excuses for life forms should have done, the red head sank her blade into the girl’s chest.
The unholy scream shivered down my spine. I ran, the time for stealth was over.
The other robed vamp came at me, throwing its body into mine, dragging me to the ground with a strength belying the small frame. It punched me; its green eyes glowed with satisfaction. I rolled, still taking the punches to my face and chest, but was somehow able to hook my leg around the vamps waist and pin it beneath me. In the scuffle I’d lost my knife.
Thankfully I had plenty more.
The red head rushed me.
“Sick, perverted freaks,” I snarled, reaching into the leather at my cleavage and pulled out another blade.
She screamed, her nails clawing at my face. The body beneath me bucked. Does anyone have a clue how hard it is to fight sitting down? This was ridiculous. Angry, I tightened my thighs on the vamp below me and punched red. I didn’t have much momentum, thank God I was strong.
It only diverted her attention for a second though. She shook her head and then dived at me again. This time though I was able to snap open the blade and bury it in her neck. Hot blood sprayed my face.
She grabbed her neck, sick gurgling sounds fell from her lips.
My eyes burned from the salt. I wiped at it, trying to clear my vision. My distraction almost cost me.
The vamp beneath me shoved me and I had to put a hand out to steady myself, freeing it just enough that it could wrap its hand around my neck.
I gasped for air.
I punched at its temple; knocking the hood back and revealing the baby smooth skin of an adolescent boy. Twelve, no older than thirteen.
I reached into my other boot and grabbed my black razor fan, snapping it open.
In one fluid movement I sliced the fan through the kid’s neck. He blinked twice, hand on my throat relaxing. I took greedy gulps of sweet fresh air, ignoring the ache I felt in doing so. My stomach heaved and I looked away, I’d done what I had to do, regardless if I liked it or not.
I reached
He and the women were placing large flat stones before the fire, almost like an altar. What was this?
This was occult stuff, not vamp. Vamps were more the drink ‘em and kill ‘em type.
I didn’t have to wait long to find out what was going on.
The third vamp returned, towing the limp body of the girl. Her head flopped, her feet dragged, it was clear she was unconscious maybe even comatose if the smashed in nose, distorted face and sliced bottom lip had anything to say about it.
The three grabbed the girl and placed her on the altar. One had her by the ankles, another by the wrists, the red head then walked around to the side of the girl and shucked off her robe. She was nude save for a Kopis she had belted at her waist—a wicked knife with at least a fifteen inch blade and curved at the center.
Clearly red head was the leader, which meant if she went down the others would likely flee. I’d kill her first.
I stretched my senses trying to feel that shiver of paras. Trying to make certain what I saw in front of me was all there was. I frowned. I felt the shiver all right, but my gut told me something was off. I didn’t know what it was and I didn’t have time to dwell on it longer. I just hoped whatever it was didn’t come back and bite me in the ass later.
Red head grabbed the blade and held it high over her head. The stance dramatic and theatrical.
The girl groaned.
I threw the knife at the redhead but at the final second the bald vamp shifted to the side of the alter just enough for the blade to find him instead. His knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground.
“Dammit.” I reached for another knife, but it was too late. Rather than run, which is what I would have expected the pathetic excuses for life forms should have done, the red head sank her blade into the girl’s chest.
The unholy scream shivered down my spine. I ran, the time for stealth was over.
The other robed vamp came at me, throwing its body into mine, dragging me to the ground with a strength belying the small frame. It punched me; its green eyes glowed with satisfaction. I rolled, still taking the punches to my face and chest, but was somehow able to hook my leg around the vamps waist and pin it beneath me. In the scuffle I’d lost my knife.
Thankfully I had plenty more.
The red head rushed me.
“Sick, perverted freaks,” I snarled, reaching into the leather at my cleavage and pulled out another blade.
She screamed, her nails clawing at my face. The body beneath me bucked. Does anyone have a clue how hard it is to fight sitting down? This was ridiculous. Angry, I tightened my thighs on the vamp below me and punched red. I didn’t have much momentum, thank God I was strong.
It only diverted her attention for a second though. She shook her head and then dived at me again. This time though I was able to snap open the blade and bury it in her neck. Hot blood sprayed my face.
She grabbed her neck, sick gurgling sounds fell from her lips.
My eyes burned from the salt. I wiped at it, trying to clear my vision. My distraction almost cost me.
The vamp beneath me shoved me and I had to put a hand out to steady myself, freeing it just enough that it could wrap its hand around my neck.
I gasped for air.
I punched at its temple; knocking the hood back and revealing the baby smooth skin of an adolescent boy. Twelve, no older than thirteen.
I reached into my other boot and grabbed my black razor fan, snapping it open.
In one fluid movement I sliced the fan through the kid’s neck. He blinked twice, hand on my throat relaxing. I took greedy gulps of sweet fresh air, ignoring the ache I felt in doing so. My stomach heaved and I looked away, I’d done what I had to do, regardless if I liked it or not.
I reached
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