Austin raised a finger to the bear’s lips and pressed, while he continued explaining a line of people who may or may not exist. Clyde smirked and shook his head.
Austin said, “Found a man chopped in half.”
I crossed my arms. “And?”
“All the guy’s blood was drained. Telltale sign,” Austin said. “Some redhead was heading out to bury the body in the woods.”
I turned to Clyde. “I thought you said you had something for me.”
“I’m getting to the good part,” Austin said. “Patience is a virtue and whatnot.”
“They say there were teeth marks, and vampires have been confirmed in the area,” Clyde said.
If Clyde said it was confirmed, it was true.
“Where?” I asked.
“Forbidden, Kentucky,” Austin said. “Shifter territory. Lots of weird shit happens there.”
I didn’t care if it would be a complicated mission. I wouldn’t be satisfied until every immortal monster had been eliminated.
“I’ll do it.”
2
KELLY
Gazing down at the felines cavorting in the alley, I decided that Snowball was going to become a problem.
It was obvious her dramatics would introduce another betrayal. What I couldn’t tell yet, and what I avidly watched to discover, was whether that betrayal would come in the form of spurning her current lover, Meowcus Anthony, for His Lordship King Snugglebumpkins, or whether the betrayal would revolve around bringing in another cat to their soap-opera-style kitten shenanigans.
Darkness fell over the alley, plunging it into shadow. Portions of the stage were lit only by a far-off streetlamp. That wasn’t a problem for me; with my nighttime vampire vision, I could see just fine.
His Lordship King Snugglebumpkins gave a lazy-sounding meow as Snowball approached. Her tail was in the air like the strumpet she was and her gaze flicked back and forth. Ostensibly, she was here for His Lordship King Snugglebumpkins, but Meowcus Anthony lurked off to the side, the wanker. He was a tabby, gray and black striped, with a glossy coat that should have put to shame the scraggly black coat of His Lordship. However, what His Lordship lacked in polish, he more than made up for in swagger.
“I see what you’re doing, Meowcus,” I said, gripping the edge of the window frame. Thirst made my throat tight. I needed to go out and find some unfortunate Forbidden resident to sip blood from, but I was too wrapped up in the soap opera playing below. There were a few bags of stolen hospital blood languishing in the refrigerator, so perhaps I would make do with one of those.
Tearing myself away from the view in the alley, I marched to the fridge and grabbed a bag of blood. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as drinking from the source, but I preferred it to leaving the sanctuary of my small apartment. The tattoo parlor was closed today because it was my day off and Marla was away with her new mate, Grayson. I could stay home and enjoy a brief holiday. Plus, I’d had a vision that my shifter ex was on his way to Forbidden. If I didn’t leave the building, I wouldn’t have to see him. Win win.
Rather than doing the civilized thing and pouring the blood into a glass, I punctured it with my fangs and drank straight from the plastic. While I sucked the bag dry, I flipped on the radio. I’d found the antiquated piece of equipment in the alley one night and I’d liked the look of it, like it had been fashioned in the eighties. To my surprise, when I’d put in some batteries, it still worked. When the quiet got to be too much for me, I’d turn it on and listen to the local stations. Now that it was late, I got to listen to Yelling Man’s garbled voice. I immediately had to turn down the volume, because, as usual, he was yelling.
This guy seemed to be a staple personality in this little town. Today, he shouted about demons creeping amongst us.
“They’re sneaky! They’re insidious! They’re inconceivable!”
“I do not think that word means what you think it means,” I murmured, because The Princess Bride was everything, as far as I was concerned.
While Yelling Man’s rants echoed through the apartment, I tossed my empty blood bag into the waste bin and made my way back to the window. Truly, I ought to get more of a life. Or rather, an undead life. With Marla and her one true love, Grayson, off visiting his nephew, I’d been reduced to making up stories about alley cats. I’d met a few of the shifters that lived in town, but I hadn’t put in much effort yet to build any bonds. If I was going to make this place my home, I’d need to do that. I was fond of Cordelia, the town’s witch, so I’d probably start there.
Snowball sat in the center of the alley and licked a paw.
“I see what you’re doing, you little hussy,” I whispered.
Both His Lordship and Meowcus Anthony were staring at her, feline desire plain on their faces.
Then, out of nowhere, a calico raced into the alley, bearing down on Snowball. I gasped. This was Cleocatra, here to defend her man!
“Look out, Snowball,” I whispered, even though I was secretly eager to watch her get taken down a peg or two.
Yowling and hisses floated up, punctuating the cats’ fight. Mostly it seemed to be posturing. His Lordship leaped from the top of a dumpster and wandered over to the two females, watching with what appeared to be mild interest. Cleocatra lifted a paw and swiped at Snowball, who arched her back and spun.
“The demons are approaching!” Yelling Man shouted from the old radio. “Protect yourself with hemp! Protect yourself with tinfoil! Do not let them take root in your soul!”
A loud banging sound reached my ears. It seemed to come from the tattoo parlor’s front door. I pulled a jumper on over my camisole and went downstairs, curious as to who
