Page 1 of Vampires Don't Give Hickeys
Chapter One
If I were going toget sprayed with vampire blood, I preferred it happen at night, and not in the summer when the word “moist” was an everyday part of my vocabulary. Lucky for me, it was fall, the end of October to be exact, but not quite the dead lull of Halloween. Unlucky for me, I had blood trickling between my boobs right now.
I flicked some of it to the vampire I’d just dispatched, who’d had the nerve to actually fight back. You would think, me being a slayer and all, and coming at you with the business end of a stake, you would just accept your fate and be okay with it. Some did. Most tried to run, but they never made it far.
But this guy... Well, let’s just say I might’ve staked him more than once.
A thick fog had rolled in about midnight and now clung wispy fingers to the headstones behind the iron fence. The fence I stood outside of. Yep, I hadn’t even made it inside the cemetery to do my duty, and I was already kind of done with tonight.
Once the vampire’s body went poof and went to wherever it was dead vampires go, I eased the chain away from the lock on the gate and slipped inside the cemetery. The cemetery’s grounds man, Tim, and I had made a deal that he’d make it look like the gate was locked if I actually locked it when I was finished. Easiest deal I’d ever had to make. He hadn’t even asked me why, and judging from his age, I suspected I wasn’t the first slayer he’d made this deal with.
I stuck to the rocky paths, aglow in the moonlight, my stake at the ready. More were stuffed at various points on my body, like down inside my boot, the inside pocket of my black leather jacket, and even one shoved horizontally through my messy bun like an odd fashion accessory. Or, I had to admit, like Pebbles fromThe Flintstones.
I didn’t care what anyone said, my love of cartoons would last me well into my sixties or better. My childhood had been put on hold at age nine because I’d been chosen as the slayer. The old one had apparently died. That was a lot of pressure for my nine-year-old self. Even at close to twenty now, I was still embracing the childhood I’d never finished.
Around the first bend in the path, a faint rustling sounded. The fog smothered it, almost carrying it off and swallowing it altogether, but I zeroed in on it. Rocks crunched under several footsteps. Whatever it was, it didn’t move stealthily. It was either a dinosaur or a newly risen vampire.
Please be a dinosaur, please be a dinosaur...
Just this once, I would love to be surprised. I wished the world would throw something else at me.
Famous last words. That’s the last time I’ll ever wish for anything, thank you very much.
Following the curved path with my stake held high, I found a man with red eyes, hovering two feet above the ground. Vampires don’t hover. They also don’t have red eyes. Vampire eyes were amber, as if the natural color had bled from them when life had drained away. These, though... These were demon eyes.
Below him, a small pit of hellfire boiled, and I would bet myAnimaniacsT-shirt that was where he’d just come from. No wonder his dark suit was smoking with the scent of brimstone.
Without wasting a second on introductions, I hurled my stake at him. He plucked it out of the air and dropped it into the incinerator below him with all the nonchalance of ridding the world of a pesky fly.
“You mother fucker,” I hissed. Multiple stakes or not, that one had been my favorite. My fingers had fit the grooves in the wood just right and everything.
He arched an eyebrow and dropped lightly to his feet beside the pit. Hellfire glinted in his spiffy, shiny shoes. “Belle Harrison, I presume?”
His velvet voice wrapped a chill around me and squeezed. That was the kind of voice meant to trick you into all sorts of wicked things, but it didn’t work on me.
“Never heard of her,” I said.
“Right.” He smirked but it twisted into a glower just before he lunged.
I dodged to the side, arming myself with the stake in my bun. With him, I probably needed to pull out the big guns though. I just wished I knew what those big guns were. I’d never fought a demon before. Never seen one up close, either, and they weren’t pretty. His skin was ridged with what looked like lava boiling behind it and crisping it black in places.
We circled one another, staring each other down and gauging the other’s weaknesses. Hopefully he didn’t see that I had hundreds of those.
“What do you want?” I demanded.
“The slayer,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Whether you’re Belle Harrison or not, you’re armed with stakes at night in a graveyard, so I’ll go out on a limb and say youarethe slayer.”
What could he need me for? Were there vampires in hell too? I’d never thought about asking them where they went after I killed them.
“I don’t know who Belle is, but we all need a hobby, and walking around cemeteries at night just happens to be mine.” I shrugged.
He stopped suddenly and sighed, the lava cracks in his face steaming. “You’re wasting my time, Belle Harrison. His Majesty has chosen you as his bride.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I’m going to be honest with you, Belle Harrison.” He steepled his fingers in front of him and looked down his nose at me. A lock of black hair fell across one red eye. “He’s offering you a way out for what’s to come.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
