Page 44 of Prince with a Chance of Darkness

The others chuckled, spreading out more, closing the circle around me. It was evident this wasn’t their first time corralling prey. But, if I had anything to say on the matter, it would be their last.

”I have a boyfriend,” I said, trying to sound like I was nervous, not annoyed.

“Is that so?” asked one of the vampires. “Smells like a lie.”

Okay, he had me there. Henry wasn’t exactly my boyfriend. He was more of a man friend with benefits.

"No matter," said the leader, his fangs flashing in the moonlight. "You won't be seeing him again."

I let out what I hoped sounded like a frightened gasp. Really, I was just trying not to roll my eyes. These guys were hitting every cliché in the vampire handbook.

I whimpered, backing up another step. "Please. I don’t want any trouble.”

"Cute. I like it when they beg," the one who'd called me sweetheart moved closer, and I started to fantasize about all the ways I’d be making him beg before the night was out.

They tightened their circle, closing in on me like a pack of wild dogs. The leader reached for my hair, and I had to physically stop myself from grabbing his arm and snapping it like a twig. I did regret not having my hair in my normal ponytail though, especially as he lifted a section of my hair and let it slide through his fingers. “Such pretty hair. Silky. Long.”

“All the better to hold her head with,” said the one who called me sweetheart.

It’s like he wanted me to make his death slow and painful.

The others laughed, drawing closer still.

The leader yanked on my hair, jerking me toward him. I flinched, partly for show and partly because I really didn't want his hands anywhere near me. His breath smelled like blood. He'd fed recently. They probably all had.

I readied myself to wipe the floor with him. I was about to go for one of my daggers when I sensed something. Power. Raw. Old. Close. It slid over my skin like silk, leaving me shivering.

“Do not fear, little mouse,” he whispered, his accent thicker now. “Just a little taste. Maybe we keep you around after. Would you like that? Want to be one of us? We don’t have a female—yet.”

Been there, tried that. Got the T-shirt in Romania and didn’t want a repeat performance.

I kept that all to myself, my focus shifting from the asshole who was nearest to me to the foreign power I was sensing in the area. Power that didn't trigger my slayer alarm bells but did make my core ache. I nearly whimpered again, this time because the power was turning me on, not scaring me.

Weird.

“Let’s turn her,” said Sweetheart-guy, moving in from my left. “She’s smokin’ hot. I want to taste her first.”

The others started rattling off what they were planning to do to me, seemingly oblivious to the threat that was close. One that didn’t even include me.

Chapter Fifteen

Vlad

Vlad stoodon the steps of a college chapel, drawn by the scent of a woman who haunted his memory. He had four years’ worth of false leads, dashed hopes and endless frustration. Vlad of old would have filled his nights with countless nameless women and who knows what else, all to keep his focus from returning to her—to Ponytail Girl.

But Vlad of old was no more.

If he’d ever really existed at all. He was starting to wonder.

His demon was hyped, bouncing around within him like a caged beast.

This time is different, it said and Vlad wondered if the words were meant to reassure him or itself.

At some point over the years, his demon had become the voice of optimism and hope. The irony was not lost on him. While he wanted to believe the demon—that this time was different. That this wasn’t yet another false lead, but it wasn’t looking good.

He’d followed the smell around campus, deep into the woods, before it had begun to fade. He’d doubled back and had begun to feel as if he were on a wild goose chase when the scent had intensified, leading him to a chapel of all places.

There was no sign of Ponytail Girl.

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