Page 53 of A Bond with the Dark

Who knows.

A biting breeze blows the scents of so many different flavors of people my way. To a mortal human, it would be chilly, but because our blood is different, we don’t feel temperature the same way they do.

There’s a scent on the breeze that smells like jasmine and strawberries. I spot a young girl stumbling out of a bar, lighting a cigarette, and teetering down the narrow passageway between two buildings.

Standing, I follow her slowly, delicately maneuvering fast between glances of bar patrons.

Up ahead of me, she takes a drag of her cigarette and trips over her own feet, falling down ungracefully on her knees.

“Fuck!” she spews.

Flashing up to her, I catch her eyes and hold her gaze; before she can startle I begin my veilweave.

You are not afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. You will let me drink from you, and then you will go home, forgetting you ever saw me.

Her green eyes gloss over stonily, and she robotically tilts her head toward the sky, her fingers lifting the cigarette toward her red lips. Pulling smoke from the filter, the tendons in her neck flex, and my mouth waters. My fangs slither out from my gums, and my eyes compress into vertical slits, the dryness indicating the white has siphoned all the green from them.

Her skin is salty and tastes like bathtub jungle juice, but as soon as my teeth pierce her skin and the delectable nectar hits my tongue and slides down my throat, I am soothed. Blood is like a balm to a burn, soothing a deep and unyielding hunger.

As I drink from her, I feel the presence before I see it.

Before I can race away, the creature jumps on my back and tries to gnaw at me. Dodging the first attempt, I duck right and try to grab its arm, catching the sight of the grotesque being before me. The features of her face have melted together, skin covers her eyes, and her nose is flattened; only a gaping mouth with rows of razor-sharp teeth remain.

The only weapon that I have on me is my thimble, and I know they aren’t as reactive to silver as we are, but I jab up anyway and slice cleanly across the grim’s face, brownish-black blood gushing out.

The creature shrieks and comes at me faster, almost taking a chunk out of my arm. Narrowly escaping the attempted carnage, I flee to the left as it clings to my pant leg, dropping me to my knees.

Drawing all my power, I whisk upright just in time to see her razor-sharp teeth directly in my face.

Her breath is hot and sour, the smell of rotting flesh and body odor ripple through me, and I think of Sayah before I’m ripped apart. Her ocean blue eyes are like a salve for my damned soul, a calming thought before the end…

A silver machete pulverizes through the top of her skull, halving her face. The top half falls off and lands on the ground with a thud as her lifeless body collapses onto mine. The acrid stench of the rotten blood is enough to make me gag as I heave her off me and corral the retching feeling, stumbling to the side.

“That one nearly got ya there,” a female voice says to my right.

Raising my gaze, I notice a buxom, brown-haired individual with a button nose and full, crimson lips. She gives off the vibe of someone heading to a college kegger rather than resembling a typical vampire, her maroon leather jacket contrasting her pale white skin.

“Yeah,” I respond, hoisting myself off the ground and dusting my pants. Not that it’s going to get the awful grim guts off them. I need a shower. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” she replies, bending down and wiping the machete blade clean on the grim’s pants.

“Do you just always carry your machete on you, or?”

She rises, her prominent chest bouncing with laughter. “No. I live up there—” she inclines her head at the metal fire escape scaffolding lining the east side of the building we’re under. “I heard the bastard shriek. They’re getting worse.”

“You’re telling me. My family and I are looking for ways to get a handle on the influx in New York, but it’s leading us nowhere fast.”

“Yeah, I don’t know anything about that,” she says, offering me a bemused smile. “I just kill ‘em when I see ‘em. You’ve gotten no leads?”

“Maybe a coven in Vegas can give us insight on the warlocks. But that’s all so far.” I don’t know this broad from Adam; I’m not about to tell her anything more than that. Even though her energy is tingly, like she’s very upbeat and positive, I don’t trust any old vampire I meet on the street.

“I’ve got friends in Vegas that can show you around. They may know more than I do. My friend Jesse. You got a phone?”

Retrieving the phone from my back pocket, I hold it to my face to unlock the screen and hand it to her.

“There,” she says after plugging her friend’s number in. “Just hit him up when you’re there, and they can help you.”

“Thank you, um. . .”

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