Page 8 of Angel Of Darkness

“Shit. Ma’am, is that blood?”

Yes, she had blood on her hands. Her blood? Her attacker’s? Probably both. “I was...attacked.” For all the dryness of her throat, her voice came out perfectly normal. Actually, she sounded way too calm. Maybe she was in shock because she sure didn’t feel calm. Her insides were churning, her heart racing, and—oddly enough—her teeth were starting to ache.

The cop crept closer. “Where are you hurt?”

Nowhere. “I-I killed him.” She’d never lied to the cops before. Why start now?

Silence. Then she followed the slow sweep of his light toward the ground and the dead man.

“He was biting me.” But she didn’t have the bite marks anymore. And surely, she’d just imaged those too-long teeth. “He was so strong. He wouldn’t let me go and I?—”

Shoved a chunk of glass into his throat.

The wind whispered against her cheek, and the breeze brought the scent of blood to her. Blood and the faintest aroma of flowers. “Someone else was here.” Certainty filled her. She tried to remember the other figure, but could only recall a dark shadow. A big, strong shadow of a man.

And his eyes had been blue. Bright blue.

“A second assailant?” The cop came even closer. “Ma’am, I want you to lift both hands for me.”

She lifted them, aware of the clench in her gut. Why was she so hungry?

“That’s good, that’s real good.”

A pounding filled her ears. A fast, wild pounding. And suddenly, she could smell everything—blood, flowers, sweat, cigarettes, alcohol, and even incense from the cathedral. Too much.

“I’m gonna radio for backup and we’re gonna get you taken care of, okay?” The cop was right in front of her now, and Nicole realized the pounding seemed to come from him. Her eyes drifted over his face and on down the strong column of his throat. There. His pulse hammered against the base of his throat in a double-time beat.

His pulse. His blood. So close.

Her hand lifted toward him.

“Is all that blood his, ma’am?”

She shook her head, and the move made her feel dizzy. “I think some of it’s mine.” Nicole couldn’t take her eyes off his neck. Then the ache in her mouth turned into pain, and she cried out as she slapped a hand over her lips and tasted the blood on her fingers. As she hunched over, Nicole’s hair formed a curtain over her face, blocking her from the cop’s view.

The blood on her fingers slipped into her mouth.

Need more.

The cop reached for her. Nicole snarled as she jumped forward. Something wild and desperate broke loose inside of her. She grabbed the cop’s throat and pushed him back. Nicole slammed him into the alley wall.

“Lady, lady what the hell?”

That pounding was even faster now.

“S-sorry...” The word sounded funny. When had she gotten a lisp? And what was she doing? He was a cop, she couldn’t?—

“What’s wrong with your teeth?” he demanded, and he was fighting her, pushing and shoving, but she barely felt his struggles.

The beat of his heart drowned out his voice. She leaned in closer, so thirsty—no, hungry—and she just needed to bite. Her teeth sank into his throat. His blood spilled onto her tongue, and it was good. Better than good. The best thing she’d ever had. Warm and hot. Life. And it was?—

Nicole staggered back, gagging, horrified as she fought through the blinding hunger. No, no. This wasn’t right.

The cop watched her with terror filling his brown eyes.

“I-I’m sorry!” She’d attacked him and shoved him against the dirty wall, just like?—

Just like that bastard did to me. She’d even bitten the cop. Her tongue ran over her teeth, and Nicole felt the impossibly too-long and too-sharp points of her canines. No.

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