Page 18 of Bitten Vampire
The waitress checks on them, then turns to me. My stomach dips. This is the perfect chance to ask my questions, but do I blurt them out or attempt something subtler?
She lingers beside my table. “Enjoying your meal?”
“Very much, thank you.” I clear my throat. “If you have a moment, may I ask a few questions?” I flick my hair, leaning into the dizzy-blonde act.
She folds her arms, glancing about. “Sure. What’s up?”
“I’m a delivery driver from the Human Sector.” I jerk a thumb towards the border. “I had a drop-off here and like the area. Would you recommend living here? Is it safe?”
She exhales. “Pretty safe, just don’t wander at night, but that’s normal.” Her laugh is brittle.
“Must you belong to a Clan to work?”
“Yeah. Apart from jobs like yours, everything’s clan-owned,” she says. “Big firms, corner shops, this restaurant.”
“Oh, really. Which Clan owns it?”
“Clan Nocturna. I’m family.”
“How does one join?”
“You look the type, and the vamps would love you.”She hesitates. “You would need a vampire’s sponsorship, and most Clans aren’t taking new members.”
“Oh, okay, thanks for the info. So are you happy here?”
She drops her gaze. “It’s… fine.” Leaning closer, she lowers her voice. “The pay’s good, the vampires are gorgeous, and being bitten”—she shivers—“is bliss. But they’re sociopaths. Not human. Some try to care, but they don’t. Do you care about a carrot? You might if it wilts, yet it’s still food, and that’s how they see us. They’ve evolved past us.”
Her candour jolts me. I drop the act. I’m no good at game playing anyway.
“I lied. I’m here for answers. My friends Amy and Max Fisher were murdered four weeks ago.”
“I remember.” She wipes the table, hands trembling. “We closed while the police investigated. I’m sorry for your loss, but you shouldn’t ask questions, not around here. Speak to the wrong people and you’ll end up getting hurt, or worse, killed like your friends.”
“Do you need help?” I whisper. The house has two spare bedrooms.
She shoots me a look of flat disgust. “I don’t need rescuing.”
Unnerved, I thank her, settle the bill, and add an oversized tip. With her warning echoing in my ears, I step outside and straight into a sheet of rain.
The downpour batters me as I dash across the car park and dive into the driver’s seat, silently cursing my forgotten coat.
Instead of signing in and starting work, I pull updirections on my phone to where Amy and Max’s bodies were found.
Whenever vampires kill, speculation follows. A loud, angry group called Human First publishes everything it can dig up. The members claim to seek justice, but they merely revel in pain. Still, thanks to them, I know the exact spot.
Rain drums on the windscreen as I drive. Reaching the location, I pull over. The area feels wrong. Why would Amy and Max have come here of all places?
The only explanation is memory magic: a vampire must have manipulated them into coming here.
I stare through the rain-slicked glass for five minutes. When the weather eases, I get out, kick at rocks, dandelions, and stubborn weeds. Hands on hips, I scan the ground. Nothing.
I expect a stain, a scrap of blood, something to mark the place where two remarkable people died. There is nothing. Not even a forlorn strip of police tape.
Ahead stands a derelict industrial building. I wander closer, but a sudden noise startles me. My nerves are shot; I feel silly and skittish. Low clouds roll back, heavy with more rain.
I dash to the car and slam the door. Coming here was pointless. I know there is nothing I can do—however much I wish otherwise. Common sense tells me to head back to the Human Sector. But I’m here now, and a day on double pay is hard to surrender. I open the delivery app, log in, and a cascade of orders fills the screen. I do not know the street names, yet the money is worth the learning curve.
I grind through job after job. The novelty breakfastkeeps me going, though the bacon leaves my tongue arid; I gulp a bottle of juice just to unglue my mouth.
