Crossroads

stil holds the vampire in check. She wears jeans and a blouse that skims her shoulders, a denim jacket. Her hair is tied back from her face with a scarf. She looks about twenty-five.

Her thoughts are much older, much darker.

The creature before me radiates malevolence. She has kil ed for a hundred years. She has a taste for it. Lust for blood oozes from her pores like the foul smel of rotting meat.

My instinct to kil her now and quickly battles with a desire to learn what a being like this thinks she can offer me.

See? You are curious.

I backhand her across the face. She flies fifty feet and lands on a barrel cactus.

She struggles to her feet. Damn, bitch. That hurt.

I’m at her side with my hands around her throat before she can finish whining.

She stil has not released the beast. I can feel her fury building. She wants to. What is holding her back?

I have kil ed vampires before. Vampires more powerful than this sniveling female. It can be done many ways. This one, however, deserves to die slowly. The same way she has kil ed the helpless humans she’s lured to this place with a promise of a new life. She wil feel her life ebb away drop by drop until there is nothing left but an empty husk.

I am done with you.

For the first time, something besides sarcasm and confidence flickers in the depths of her eyes. Fear is there, too. She pul s away, her hands on my arms as she tries to break my grip. Her struggles are fruitless.

But I have something you want. Information I am willing to offer in return for my life.

You have recklessly taken human life. Left bodies to be discovered—

No one of importance. No one who will be missed. I have incited no threat against us. Why should it matter to you that I thin the ranks of the miserable? I do them a service, ending their pathetic lives.

Her attitude is like a red-hot poker in my gut. It is the attitude of many of our kind. Something I came to realize in my first meeting with the heads of the vampire clans. It is the attitude that holds mortals in the same class as the beasts.

I tighten my grip until I feel my fingers sink into her flesh. Do you ask these “miserable” if they want to die? Give them a choice? You kill for sport. You take their money. Worse, you offer hope, then snatch it away. You are an animal. You deserve the same fate as those you toy with, the ones you consider unimportant. I am here to exact vengeance.

Then what Chael says about you is true.

The name makes me draw back a tiny step, to look into her eyes. What does Chael have to do with you?

She takes advantage of the momentary distraction to draw herself up. Chael says you think more of mortals than you do your own kind. I see he is right. Her words drip acid.

Well, be warned. You may soon find yourself alone. There are many of us who are tired of hiding. The tide is rising.

So this is why you are here? Chael sent you to deliver a warning? He has made a grievous mistake if he thinks killing innocents is the way to gain my support for his cause.

She shas her head. I am not here to gain your support.

Chael told me there would be only one thing to tempt you away from the path you have chosen. Kill me now and you will never know how to achieve what it is your heart desires.

And how do you know what my heart desires? How does Chael?

It is obvious. You wish to return the gift of immortality, to become human again.

I make a guttural sound in my throat — half snort, half snarl.

You think you can forestall the inevitable with this foolish talk? The only reason you are not dead already is that I want to make sure the humans are safely away before I end your miserable existence. They have been traumatized enough.

I may not be so easy to kill.

Final y. The beast is unleashed. Her right hand dips into her jacket. Lightning fast. She pul s out a smal stake and lunges for my chest.

I am faster. A half turn and the stake strikes a rib. I wrest the weapon from her hand, toss it away.

She locks her arms around me, intent on bending me backward, her snapping jaws seek my throat.

It takes very little effort to break her grip. Our positions reverse. For a fleeting moment, I have a glimpse into her head. Hate boils in her blood, turns her thoughts red with rage.

And Chael is there, too. His whispered entreaties that she should seek me out. Tempt me with the secret.

Chael is there.

Who is this female to Chael?

What is the secret?

No matter.

The bloodlust burns too strong to pul back now. Nothing is more important than the hunger. I tear at her jugular. Her blood, hot and delicious, fil s my mouth, my senses. She squirms and pounds at my chest with her fists. The blood from my chest wound seems to mingle with her own blood as the one flows out and the other flows in.

She is strong. Her wil to live not easily extinguished. She is kicking at me, her hands frantical y seeking anything to use against me.

Too late I feel her fingers close around the gun clipped to my belt. She fires it without drawing it out of the holster. The roar of the gunshot rips the quiet fabric of the night. A bul et pierces my side. Convulsively, I snap her arm at the elbow.

We both scream in pain.

The bul et moves inside me, scorching a path through muscle and sinew before it explodes out. It does not penetrate organ or impact bone.

It does not stop me from tearing again at her neck.

She is getting weaker. I tighten my hold, lock my jaws. Her blood is no longer thick, but thinning out as the last drops are consumed. She no longer fights. She is no longer capable of shielding her thoughts. The atrocities she’s committed, the victims she’s tortured, the senseless agony she’s inflicted. Al threaten from the dark. There is no thought of loved ones or family. Like her victims, she has lived most of her second life alone. Only fear is left. And dread for what comes next.

I drain the last of her blood, feel the shudder as her soul leaves the body, feel my hatred ebb with the final flickering spark of her life.

She has died like her victims, alone and afraid.

It is jt.

The metamorphosis begins the instant the soul leaves the body. The young woman I held in my grasp is an old, withered shel by the time she hits the ground. It is the way.

Drained of blood, the vampire body reverts physical y to its mortal counterpart. I stand looking down at an old lady wel past her one hundredth birthday.

My metamorphosis begins, too. The human Anna comes back, slowly, reluctantly.

Slowly. Infusion of blood temporarily warms a body that is even now returning to its natural state. The warmth fades too quickly.

Reluctantly. With the return to human form comes rational thought. I wil not forget what I have done.

Twice.

I have kil ed. Two monsters. One mortal, one not.

I have no regrets. They both deserved to die. I only wish kil ing didn’t come so easily.

With rational thought comes something else — awareness of the pain that racks my side. I was right. A gunshot can slow a vampire down. Especial y one from the big.45 Max brought for me. Slowly, careful y, I draw