toe.
“What the hell…” I breathed, staring at his boot. He snapped his teeth like a feral dog and again they glinted in the moonlight. This time I saw why.
Silver. He had fangs of silver.
I recoiled with a little shriek of alarm and landed hard on my butt. “TRAVIS!” I cried desperately as I scrambled to my feet. “TRAVIS, GET OUT HERE!” My heart was pounding like a drum inside my chest. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Didn’t
Grinning lewdly, the man ran his tongue across his top lip in a provocative gesture that turned my stomach. “Best run along home, little girl,” he said. “You cannot save your precious Travis now.”
“Who are you?” I demanded. I almost said ‘what’ are you, but I stopped myself just in time.
“I have gone by many names. I have been many things. Come inside,” he coaxed, his blue eyes filled with cunning. “Come inside and I will tell you everything you want to know.”
I actually took a step forward before I stopped myself. Part of me actually wanted to go to him. That was his power, I realized with a shudder. To create action with a mere suggestion. To coerce with an idea. That was why Travis had gone so willingly into the house. In his mind, there had not been a choice.
“I’m calling the police. I’m calling the police and they’re going to come and arrest you.” I dug my phone out of my pocket and dialed 9-1-1. The man slouched against the side of the doorframe and watched me, his expression bored.
“Hello?” I said when I heard the click of someone answering my call. “I need to report a – um – a kidnapping! At – uh – 233 Turner Street. There is a man here and I think he’s dangerous and he -”
The laughter cut me off. It cackled through the phone, raising every hair on the back of my neck. A woman’s laughter, high pitched and cruel. When the laughter stopped she whispered one word before the line went dead.
CHAPTER FOUR
I ran. I left my best friend behind and I ran for my life. The screams chased me. They seemed to come from every house I passed. Horrible, gut wrenching screams for help, for mercy, for death. I stayed off the street and ran through stranger’s back yards. I ducked under clothes lines and crawled over fences, skinning my knees and ripping my hands apart with splinters. I tucked the pain and the fear and the terror away in some distant, dusty corner of my mind and allowed only one thought to circle round and round inside my head. One goal: get home, get Dad, and get Travis.
Halfway across a neatly manicured yard I heard the back door slam and I dove into a cluster of bushes just in time. Helpless to do anything but cower in silence, I watched as a woman dressed in red jumped off the side of the porch and went sprinting across the lawn.
Something was chasing her. Something fast. Something dark. It grabbed her arm and swung her around like she was a rag doll, slamming her into the side of her own pool. She crumpled to the ground, motionless, ten feet from where I hid behind a rose bush.
Overhead the moon shifted free of the clouds that had been binding it, allowing a trickle of silver light to bathe the fallen woman and I saw, I saw even when I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my mouth to keep myself from crying out, that she was not dressed in red clothes. She was dressed in blood.
The thing that had chased the woman stopped and sniffed the air. It was human yet not human. A girl yet not a girl. She could have gone to my school. She could have sat next to me in math class. Her hair, brown and sleek and swept over one shoulder, was normal. Her clothes, blue jeans and a gray sweatshirt, could have been worn by any teenager the world over. But her piercing blue eyes… and the blood that dribbled down her chin… That was about as far from normal as you could get.
Her head swung towards me. Those unnatural eyes searched the bushes, traveling leisurely back and forth across my hiding spot. I held my breath.
“I smell you little human,” she said in a sing song voice. “You smell like sugar and spice and something quite nice.”
My right foot was cramping up. I flexed my toes, fighting off the pins and needles. The tiny movement nearly made me lose my balance. I wavered to the right and managed to catch myself. My fingers touched something hard. Something metal. Slowly, silently, I pulled it from the ground and clutched it to my chest. A horse shoe. The big, heavy kind people threw in sand pits. No, not a horse shoe. A weapon.
“I want to play a game.” The girl pouted. She nudged the bloody woman. Sighed. “And now I’ve broken my toy. Come out, come out, wherever you are. I promise to be much more careful with you.” She started to walk in a big, wandering circle. When she turned away from me I attacked.
Holding the horse shoe tightly in my right hand I launched myself at her legs, just below the knees. She went down instantly and I swung the horse shoe without pause, striking her head again and again and again until blood splattered up and coated my face and chest. She tried to fight back but surprise and a healthy fear of not dying had given me the advantage.
I straddled her waist, pinning her down beneath me. With a strength that defied logic she managed to flip herself over and her nails, filed to points, raked out and whipped across my cheek. The cuts burned like someone had poured acid in them and I screamed, but didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Instinct had taken over, and I was more animal than human as I fought for my life.
Her nose shattered, then her jaw. Her eyes bulged and I jammed my thumb to the hilt in the left one, just like Mrs. Hamilton had taught us to do in self defense.
The girl howled like a wild animal and bucked her hips, trying to throw me off, but I clung to her with the knowledge that if I didn’t knock her out – or worse – I wouldn’t be leaving this backyard alive.
“I will kill you for this,” she snarled, glaring daggers at me with her one good eye. Her teeth snapped an inch from my face and caught my hair. She ripped a chunk of it out by the roots and spat it in the grass beside her.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I kept repeating the same words over and over, not realizing until they come out all choked up that I was crying. I brought the horse shoe down again. And again. And again. So many times I lost count. When the girl went limp and her head fell back, mouth open, eye closed, I leaped to my feet, ready to run. But something stopped me. Something pulled at me.
I stared down at the girl I had beaten with a kind of horrified fascination. With her mouth open I could see her fangs. Like the man’s they were silver and looked like daggers, slightly curved and deadly sharp. I wondered if they were natural, if they were real, or if the girl was just part of some crazy cult that had decided to attack the entire town.
The horse shoe dropped to the lawn with a soft thump. Slowly I knelt down beside the girl’s head and reached out with one trembling hand. If I could just touch the fangs… If I could just feel them… They really were quite beautiful. The way they glistened in the moonlight… It was unlike anything I had ever seen before.
My fingertips brushed against one fang and it happened in an instant. One second the girl was motionless and the next she had her teeth clamped down on my hand and was shaking her head back and forth like a dog worrying a bone.
I screamed and fell back. She released my hand and I clutched it to my chest,
