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[English] HALFWAY TO THE GRAVE

Chủ đề trong 'Album' bởi novelonline, 25/12/2015.

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    Author: Jeaniene Frost

    I STIFFENED AT THE RED AND BLUE LIGHTS flashing behind me, because there was no way I could explain what was in the back of my truck. I pulled over, holding my breath as the sheriff came to my window.
    "Hi. Something wrong?" My tone was all innocence while I prayed there was nothing unusual about my eyes. Control yourself. You know what happens when you get upset.
    "Yeah, you've got a busted taillight. License and registration, please."
    Crap. That must have happened when I was loading up the truck bed. Speed had been of the essence then, not daintiness.
    I handed him my real license, not the fake one. He shone his flashlight back and forth between the identification and my face.
    "Catherine Crawfield. You're Justina Crawfield's girl, aren't you? From the Crawfield Cherry Orchard?"
    "Yes, sir." Politely and blandly, as if I didn't have a care in the world.
    "Well, Catherine, it's nearly four a.m. Why are you out this late?"
    I could tell him the truth about my activities, except I didn't want to sign on for hard time. Or an extended stay in a padded cell.
    "I couldn't sleep, so I decided I'd drive around."
    To my dismay, he ambled to the bed of the truck and shone his light in it.
    "Whatcha got back there?"
    Oh, nothing unusual. A dead body under some bags and an ax.
    "Bags of cherries from my grandparents' orchard." If my heartbeat were any louder, it would deafen him.
    "Really?" With his flashlight he poked at a plastic lump. "One of 'em is leaking."
    "Don't...
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    Halfway to the Grave
    Page 1



    Chapter One

    I STIFFENED AT THE RED AND BLUE LIGHTS flashing behind me, because there was no way I could explain what was in the back of my truck. I pulled over, holding my breath as the sheriff came to my window.

    "Hi. Something wrong?" My tone was all innocence while I prayed there was nothing unusual about my eyes. Control yourself. You know what happens when you get upset.

    "Yeah, you've got a busted taillight. License and registration, please."

    Crap. That must have happened when I was loading up the truck bed. Speed had been of the essence then, not daintiness.

    I handed him my real license, not the fake one. He shone his flashlight back and forth between the identification and my face.

    "Catherine Crawfield. You're Justina Crawfield's girl, aren't you? From the Crawfield Cherry Orchard?"

    "Yes, sir." Politely and blandly, as if I didn't have a care in the world.

    "Well, Catherine, it's nearly four a.m. Why are you out this late?"

    I could tell him the truth about my activities, except I didn't want to sign on for hard time. Or an extended stay in a padded cell.

    "I couldn't sleep, so I decided I'd drive around."

    To my dismay, he ambled to the bed of the truck and shone his light in it.

    "Whatcha got back there?"

    Oh, nothing unusual. A dead body under some bags and an ax.

    "Bags of cherries from my grandparents' orchard." If my heartbeat were any louder, it would deafen him.

    "Really?" With his flashlight he poked at a plastic lump. "One of 'em is leaking."

    "Don't worry." My voice was almost a squeak. "They always leak. That's why I carry them in this old truck. They've stained the bottom of it red."

    Relief crashed through me when he ceased his explorations and returned to my window.

    "And you're driving around this late because you couldn't sleep?" There was a knowing curl to his mouth. His gaze took in my tight top and disheveled hair. "You think I'm going to believe that?"

    The innuendo was blatant and I almost lost my cool. He thought I'd been out sleeping around. An unspoken accusation hung between us, nearly twenty-three years in the making. Just like your mother, aren't you? It wasn't easy being illegitimate in a town so small, people still held that against you. In today's society, you wouldn't think it mattered, but Licking Falls, Ohio, had its own set of standards. They were archaic at best.

    With great effort I restrained my anger. My humanity tended to shed like a disposable skin when I got angry.

    "Could we just keep this between us, Sheriff?" Back to the guileless blinking of my eyes. It had worked on the dead guy, anyway. "Promise I won't do it again."

    He fingered his belt as he considered me. His large belly strained against the fabric of his shirt, but I refrained from comments about his girth or the fact that he smelled like beer. Finally he smiled, exposing a crooked front tooth.

    "Go home, Catherine Crawfield, and get that taillight fixed."

    "Yes, sir!"

    Giddy with my reprieve, I revved up the truck and drove off. That had been close. I'd have to be more careful next time.

    People complained about having deadbeat fathers or skeletons in their family's closets. For me, both were really true. Oh, don't get me wrong, I hadn't always known what I was. My mother, the only other person in on the secret, didn't tell me until I was sixteen. I grew up with abilities other children didn't have, but when I asked her about them, she'd get angry and tell me not to talk about it. I learned to keep things to myself and hide my differences. To everyone else, I was just weird. Friendless. Liked to wander around at strange hours and had odd pale skin. Even my grandparents didn't know what was in me, but then again, neither did those I hunted.

    There was a pattern to my weekends now. I went to any of the clubs within a three-hour drive to look for some action. Not the kind the good sheriff thought I was into, but another brand. I'd drink like a fish and wait to be picked up by that special someone. One I hoped I could end up planting in the backyard, if I didn't get killed first. I'd been doing this for six years now. Maybe I had a death wish. Funny, really, since technically I was half dead.

    Therefore my near miss with the law didn't stop me from going out the following Friday. At least this way, I knew I was making one person happy. My mother. Well, she had a right to hold a grudge. I just wished it hadn't spilled over to me.

    The club's loud music hit me like a splash, jerking my pulse to its beat. I made my way carefully through the crowds, seeking that unmistakable vibe. The place was packed, a typical Friday night. After I wandered around for an hour, I felt the first stirrings of disappointment. There appeared to be only people here. With a sigh, I sat at the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. The first man who tried to kill me had ordered it for me. It was now my drink of choice. Who said I wasn't sentimental?

    Men approached me periodically. Something about being a single young woman screamed "Screw me" to them. Politely and somewhat impolitely I turned them down, depending on how persistent they were. I wasn't here to date. After my first boyfriend, Danny, I never wanted to date again. If the guy was alive, I wasn't interested. No wonder I had no love life to speak of.

    After three more drinks I decided to cruise the club again, since I was having no luck being bait. It was nearly midnight, and so far there had been nothing aside from alcohol, drugs, and dancing.

    Booths were tucked in the far corner of the club. As I passed in front of them, I felt a twinge of charged air. Someone, or something, was near. I stopped and did a slow circle, attempting to ferret out the location.

    Out of the light and obscured by shadows, I saw the top of a man's head bent forward. His hair was nearly white under the intermittent lighting, but his skin was unlined. Hollows and contours became features as he looked up and spotted me staring at him. His brows were distinctly darker than his hair, which appeared to be light blond. Those eyes were dark as well, too deep for me to guess a color. His cheekbones could have been chiseled from marble, and that flawless diamonds-and-cream skin gleamed from under his shirt collar.

    Bingo.

    Pasting a false smile on my face, I sauntered over with the exaggerated walk of someone drunk and plunked myself down on the opposite seat.

    "Hello, handsome," I said in my most alluring voice.

    "Not now."

    His tone was clipped, with a distinct English accent. I blinked stupidly for a moment, thinking maybe I had drunk too much and misunderstood him.

    "Excuse me?"

    "I'm busy." He sounded impatient and mildly annoyed.
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    Halfway to the Grave
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    Confusion raged in me. Could I have been wrong? Just to be certain, I reached out and ran a finger lightly over his hand. The power nearly jumped off his skin. Not human, all right.

    "I was wondering, um..." Stumbling over my words, I searched for an enticing phase. Frankly, this had never happened before. Usually his kind were easy pickings. I didn't know how to handle this as a true professional would.

    "Want to f**k?"

    The words burst out, and I was horrified at myself for saying them. I barely managed to avoid clapping a hand over my mouth, never having used that word before.

    He glanced back with a curl of amusement on his lips, having turned away after his second refusal. Dark eyes raked me appraisingly.

    "Bad timing, luv. Have to wait until later. Be a good bird and fly away, I'll find you."

    With a flick of his hand, he dismissed me. Numbly I got up and walked away, shaking my head at the turn of events. Now how was I supposed to kill him?

    In a daze I went to the ladies' room to inspect my appearance. My hair looked okay, albeit its usual startling crimson shade, and I wore my lucky top, which had led the last two guys to their doom. Next I bared my teeth at my reflection. Nothing was stuck in them. Lastly, I raised my arm and sniffed near the crease. No, I didn't smell bad. What was it, then? A thought occurred to me. Could he be g*y?

    Reflectively I considered it. Anything was possible-I was proof of that. Perhaps I could watch him. Follow him whenever he tried to pick someone up, male or female. Decision made, I headed out with renewed determination.

    He was gone. The table he'd been crouched over was empty, and there was no trace of him in the air. With growing urgency I searched the surrounding bars, the dance floor, and the booths again. Nothing. I must have dawdled too long in the bathroom. Cursing myself, I stalked back to the bar and ordered a fresh drink. Although alcohol didn't dull my senses, having a drink was something to do, and I was feeling very unproductive.

    "Beautiful ladies should never drink alone," a voice said next to me.

    Turning to give a rebuff, I stopped short when I saw my admirer was as dead as Elvis. Blond hair about four shades darker than the other one's, with turquoise-colored eyes. Hell's bells, it was my lucky night.

    "I hate to drink alone, in fact."

    He smiled, showing lovely squared teeth. All the better to bite you with, my dear.

    "Are you here by yourself?"

    "Do you want me to be?" Coyly, I fluttered my lashes at him. This one wasn't going to get away, by God.

    "I very much want you to be." His voice was lower now, his smile deeper. God, but they had great intonation. Most of them could double as phone-*** operators.

    "Well, then I was. Except now I'm with you."

    I let my head tilt to the side in a flirtatious manner that also bared my neck. His eyes followed the movement, and he licked his lips. Oh good, a hungry one.

    "What's your name, lovely lady?"

    "Cat Raven." An abbreviation of Catherine, and the hair color of the first man who tried to kill me. See? Sentimental.

    His smile broadened. "Such an unusual name."

    His name was Kevin. He was twenty-eight and an architect, or so he claimed. Kevin was recently engaged, but his fiancee had dumped him and now he just wanted to find a nice girl and settle down. Listening to this, I managed not to choke on my drink in amusement. What a load of crap. Next he'd be pulling out pictures of a house with a white picket fence. Of course, he couldn't let me call a cab, and how inconsiderate that my fictitious friends left without me. How kind of him to drive me home, and oh, by the way, he had something to show me. Well, that made two of us.

    Experience had taught me it was much easier to dispose of a car that hadn't been the scene of a killing. Therefore, I managed to open the passenger door of his Volkswagen and run screaming out of it with feigned horror when he made his move. He'd picked a deserted area, most of them did, so I didn't worry about a Good Samaritan hearing my cries.

    He followed me with measured steps, delighted with my sloppy staggering. Pretending to trip, I whimpered for effect as he loomed over me. His face had transformed to reflect his true nature. A sinister smile revealed upper fangs where none had been before, and his previously blue eyes now glowed with a terrible green light.

    I scrabbled around, concealing my hand slipping into my pocket. "Don't hurt me!"

    He knelt, grasping the back of my neck.

    "It will only hurt for a moment."

    Just then, I struck. My hand whipped out in a practiced movement and the weapon it held pierced his heart. I twisted repeatedly until his mouth went slack and the light faded from his eyes. With a last wrenching shove, I pushed him off and wiped my bloody hands on my pants.

    "You were right." I was out of breath from my exertions. "It only hurt for a moment."

    Much later when I arrived home, I was whistling. The night hadn't been a total waste after all. One had gotten away, but one would be prowling the dark no more. My mother was asleep in the room we shared. I'd tell her about it in the morning. It was the first question she asked on the weekends. Did you get one of those things, Catherine? Well, yes, I did! All without me getting battered or pulled over. Who could ask for more?

    I was in such a good mood, in fact, that I decided to try the same club the next night. After all, there was a dangerous bloodsucker in the area and I had to stop him, right? So I went about my usual household chores with impatience. My mother and I lived with my grandparents. They owned a modest two-story home that had actually once been a barn. Turned out the isolated property, with its acres of land, was coming in handy. By nine o'clock, I was out the door.

    It was crowded again, this being a Saturday night. The music was just as loud and the faces just as blank. My initial sweep of the place turned up nothing, deflating my mood a little. I headed toward the bar and didn't notice the crackle in the air before I heard his voice.

    "I'm ready to f**k now."

    "What?"

    I whirled around, prepared to indignantly scald the ears of the unknown creep, when I stopped. It was him. A blush came to my face when I remembered what I'd said last night. Apparently he'd remembered as well.

    "Ah yes, well..." Exactly how did one respond to that? "Umm, drink first? Beer or...?"

    "Don't bother." He interrupted my hail of the bartender and traced a finger along my jaw. "Let's go."

    "Now?" I looked around, thrown off guard.

    "Yeah, now. Changed your mind, luv?"

    There was a challenge in his eyes and a gleam I couldn't decipher. Not wanting to risk losing him again, I grabbed my purse and gestured to the door.
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    "Lead the way."

    "No, no." He grinned chillingly. "Ladies first."

    With several glances over my shoulder, I preceded him into the parking lot. Once outside, he looked expectantly at me.

    "Well, get your ride and let's be off."

    "My ride? I-I don't have a ride. Where's your car?" I fought to remain cool, but I was inwardly rattled. This was all off my normal routine and I didn't like it.

    "I drove a bike here. Fancy a ride on it?"

    "A motorcycle?" No, that wouldn't do. No trunk to carry his body in, and I wasn't about to balance it on the handlebars. Plus, I didn't know how to ride one. "Umm, we'll take my vehicle instead. It's over there."

    As I walked to the truck, I reminded myself to stagger. I hoped he'd think I had been pounding the booze.

    "Thought you didn't have a ride," he called after me.

    I stopped short, turning back at him. Crap, I had said that.

    "I forgot it was here, is all," I lied breezily. "Think I drank too much. You want to drive?"

    "No, thanks," was his immediate response. For some reason, his strong English accent grated on me.

    I tried again with a lopsided smile. He had to drive. My weapon was in my right pants leg, since I was always in the passenger seat before.

    "Really, I think you should drive. I'm feeling woozy. I'd hate to wrap us around a tree."

    It didn't work.

    "If you just want to beg off until another night..."

    "No!" There was desperation in my voice, which raised his eyebrow a notch. "I mean, you're so good-looking and..." What the hell did one say? "I really, really want to get it on."

    He stifled a laugh, dark eyes glittering. A denim jacket was casually thrown over his collared shirt. Under the streetlights, his cheekbones looked even more pronounced. I had never seen such perfectly chiseled features before.

    He looked me up and down, his tongue tracing the inside of his bottom lip.

    "Right, then, let's be off. You're driving."

    Without another word, he climbed into the passenger seat of the pickup.

    Left with no other option, I got in the driver's side and pulled away, heading for the highway. Minutes ticked by, but I didn't know what to say. The silence was unnerving. He didn't speak, but I felt his eyes as they moved over me. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore and blurted the first question that came to mind.

    "What's your name?"

    "Does it matter?"

    I glanced to my right and met his eyes. They were so dark brown they could have been black. There was that cool note of challenge in them again, almost a silent dare. It was disconcerting, to say the least. All the other ones had been perfectly willing to chat.

    "I just wanted to know. Mine's Cat." I exited the freeway and turned onto a nearby gravel road leading to the lake.

    "Cat, hmmm? From where I sit you look more like a Kitten."

    My head jerked around and I shot him an annoyed look. Oh, I was going to enjoy this, all right.

    "It's Cat," I repeated firmly. "Cat Raven."

    "Whatever you say, Kitten Tweedy."

    Abruptly I slammed on the brakes. "You got a problem, mister?"

    Dark eyebrows rose. "No problem, pet. Have we stopped here for good? Is this where you want to shag?"

    There went that pesky flush again at his bluntness.

    "Um, no. A little farther up. It's prettier there." I steered us deeper into the woods.

    He gave a low chuckle. "I just bet it is, luv."

    When the truck stopped at my favorite rendezvous spot, I glanced over at him. He sat exactly as he had been, immobile. There was no way I could go for the surprise in my pants yet. Clearing my throat, I gestured toward the trees.

    "Don't you want to go outside and...shag?" It was a strange word, but much better than f**k.

    A quick grin lit his face before he responded. "Oh no. Right here. Love to do it in a truck."

    "Well..." Damn, what now? This wouldn't work. "There's not much room." Triumphantly I began to open my door.

    He didn't budge. "Plenty of room, Kitten. I'll stay here."

    "Don't call me Kitten." My voice was sharper than romance dictated, but I was seriously aggravated. The sooner he was truly dead, the better.

    He ignored me. "Take off your clothes. Let's see what you've got."

    "Excuse me?" This was too much.

    "You weren't going to shag me with all your clothes on, were you, Kitten?" he taunted. "Guess all you'll need off is your knickers, then. Come on. Don't take all bloody night."

    Oh, I was going to make him sorry. I hoped this hurt like hell. With a superior smile, I looked back at him.

    "You first."

    He grinned again with a flash of normal teeth. "Shy bird, are you? Didn't peg you for the type, what with walking up to me and practically begging for it and all. How about this? We'll do it at the same time."

    Bastard. It was the filthiest word I could think of, and I chanted it in my mind as I warily stared at him while unbuttoning my jeans. He nonchalantly loosened his belt, unbuckled his pants, and pulled out his shirt. The action revealed a taut pale belly that was hairless until it met his groin.

    This was way further than I'd ever let things progress before. I was so embarrassed, my fingers shook as I peeled off my jeans while reaching inside them.

    "Look here, luv, see what I have for you."

    I glanced down and saw his hand close around himself before quickly looking away. The stake was almost in my hand, all I needed was another second...

    It was my modesty that did me in. When I turned to avoid seeing his groin, I missed his hand clenching. His fist moved unbelievably fast to connect with my head. There was a flash of light followed by shooting pain, and then silence.

    Chapter Two

    S OMETHING SEEMED TO BE DIGGING AT MY brain. With agonizing slowness I opened my eyes, squinting at the unshaded lamp nearby. It made the sun seem pale in comparison. My hands were above me, my wrists ached, and the pain in my head made me immediately lean forward and throw up.

    "I thawt I thaw a putty tat."

    The mocking voice caused my pain to dissipate in a rush of terror. When I saw the vampire close by, I shuddered.

    "I did, I did thee a putty tat!"

    Finished with his Tweety Bird imitation, he grinned unpleasantly at me. I tried to scoot back and realized my hands were chained to a wall. Both my feet were also cuffed together. My top and pants were gone, leaving me in only my bra and underwear. Even my trademark gloves were missing. Oh God.

    "Now, then, luv, let's get down to business." The bantering left his tone and his eyes hardened into pools of dark granite. "Who do you work for?"
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    This surprised me so much, it took me a moment to answer him. "I don't work for anyone."

    "Bollocks." He bit the word out precisely, and I didn't have to know what it meant to guess he didn't believe me. I hunched when he moved nearer.

    "Who do you work for?" With more menace.

    "No one."

    My head snapped back as he slapped me. Tears came to my eyes, but I held them there. I was going to die, but I didn't have to grovel.

    "Go to hell."

    Immediately there was another ringing in my ears. This time I could taste blood.

    "Once again, who do you work for?"

    Spitting it out, I blazed up at him defiantly. "No one, ass-munch!"

    He blinked in surprise, and then rocked on his heels and laughed so loudly my ears rang. Regaining control, he leaned in until his mouth was inches from my face. Fangs gleamed in the light.

    "I know you're lying."

    His voice was a whisper. He lowered his head until his mouth brushed my neck. I held myself rigid, praying for the strength not to plead for my life.

    Cool breath blew on my skin. "I know you're lying," he continued. "Because last night I was looking for a bloke. When I spotted him, I saw the same lovely red-haired girl who'd been rubbing on me leaving with him. I followed, thinking I'd sneak up on him while he was occupied. Instead, I watched you plug a stake in his heart, and what a stake!" In front of my stricken eyes, he dangled my modified weapon triumphantly. "Wood on the outside, silver on the inside. Now, that's made in America! Poof, down goes Devon! Yet it didn't stop there. You plopped him in the trunk and drove to your truck, where you chopped his bleedin' head off and buried him in pieces. Then you went home whistling a merry tune. How in the bloody hell could you do that, hmm? You don't work for anyone? Then why, when I take a deep whiff here"-he put his nose against my collarbone and inhaled-"do I smell something other than human? Faint, but unmistakable. Vampire. You've got a boss, you do. Feeds you some of his blood, right? Makes you stronger and faster, but still only human. Us poor vamps never see it coming. All we see is...food."

    With one finger, he pressed lightly on my jumping pulse.

    "Now, for the last time before I forget my manners, tell me who your boss is."

    I looked at him, knowing his would be the last face I ever saw. Bitterness briefly coursed through me before I pushed it aside. There would be no complaints. Maybe, maybe the world would be a better place for what I'd done. It was all I could wish for, and so I'd die telling my executioner the truth.

    "I don't have a boss." Each word was poison. There was no need to be polite. "You want to know why I smell like a human and a vampire? Because that's what I am. Years ago, my mother went on a date with what she thought was a nice guy. He turned out to be a vampire, and he raped her. Five months later there was me, premature but fully developed, with a whole slew of funky abilities. When she finally told me about my father, I promised her I'd kill every vampire I found to make up for it. To ensure no one else suffered what she had to. She's been afraid to leave her home ever since! I hunt for her, and the only thing I regret about dying now is that I didn't take more of you with me!"

    My voice rose until I screamed the last part, hurling the words in his face. I closed my eyes and braced for the killing blow.

    Nothing. No sound, no strike, no pain. After a moment I peeked to see him standing exactly where he'd been. He tapped his chin with his finger and looked at me with an expression that could only be described as thoughtful.

    "Well?" Fear and resignation strained my voice to the breaking point. "Kill me already, you pathetic suck-neck!"

    That earned me an amused glance. "Ass-munch. Suck-neck. You kiss your mum with that mouth?"

    "Don't you talk about my mother, murderer! Your kind isn't fit to speak of her!"

    A ghost of a smile hovered on his lips. "Bit of the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it? I've seen you do murder. And if what you're telling me is true, you're the same kind I am."

    I shook my head. "I am nothing like your kind! You're all monsters, preying on innocent people and caring nothing about the lives you wreck. The vampires I killed attacked me-it was their bad luck I was ready for them. I might have some of this cursed blood in my veins, but at least I was using it to-"

    "Oh, stick a sock in it already," he interrupted me with an irritated tone you'd use to scold a child. "You always ramble on so? No wonder your dates went right for your throat. Can't say as I blame them."

    Speechless, I gaped at him. With absolute clarity I understood the phrase adding insult to injury. First he'd slapped me soundly, now he was going to slander me before murdering me.

    "I hate to interrupt your sympathy session over the other dead vampires, but are you going to be killing me soon or what?" Brave words, I thought. At least it beat sniveling.

    Faster than I could blink, his mouth was at the pounding pulse in my neck. Everything inside me froze as I felt the unmistakable graze of teeth. Please don't let me beg. Please don't let me beg.

    Abruptly he leaned back again, leaving me trembling in relief and fear. One eyebrow ****ed upward at me.

    "In a hurry to die, are you? Not before you answer a few more questions."

    "What makes you think I will?"

    A curl of his mouth preceded his response.

    "Believe me, you'll like it much more if you do."

    I cleared my throat and tried to slow my heartbeat. No need to keep ringing the dinner bell for him.

    "What do you want to know? Maybe I'll tell you."

    That little smirk widened. Nice to know one of us was having a good time.

    "Brave little Kitten, I'll give you that. Right, then. Suppose I believe you're the offspring of a human and a vampire. Almost unheard of, but we'll get back to that. Then let's say I believe you troll clubs hunting us evil deads to avenge your mum. The question remains, how did you know what to use to kill us? It's not an open secret. Most humans think good old wood will do it. But not you. You're telling me you've never dealt with vampires before, except to kill them?"

    In the midst of all that was occurring, my life over and a horrible death looming in front of me, I spoke the first words that popped into my mind.

    "You got anything to drink around here? Nothing with clots in it, I mean, or that can be classified as O-negative or B-positive. Hmm?"

    He let out an amused snort. "Thirsty, luv? What a coincidence. So am I."

    With those frightening words, he pulled a flask out of his jacket and placed the rim against my lips, tilting it. My manacled hands were useless, so I wrapped my teeth around it and used them for leverage. It was whiskey and it burned slightly going down, but I kept swallowing until the last drop trickled down my throat. Sighing, I released my bite and let the flask drop back into his hand.
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    Halfway to the Grave
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    He held it upside down, apparently bemused by its lack of contents. "If I'd known you were such a lush, I'd have given you the cheap stuff. Going to go out with a bang, are you?"

    I shrugged as much as my raised arms would allow.

    "What's the matter? Did I ruin my flavor for you? I'm sure I'll be turning over in my grave worrying that you didn't like how I tasted. I hope you choke on my blood, you jerk."

    That drew more laughter. "Good form, Kitten! But enough stalling. How did you know what to use if no vampire told you?"

    Another modified shrug. "I didn't. Oh, I'd read a hundred books or more about our...your kind after hearing about my father. They all varied. Some said crosses, sunlight, wood, or silver. It was pure luck, really. One night a vampire approached me at a club and then took me for a drive. Of course, he couldn't have been nicer, right up until he tried to eat me alive. I made up my mind that I was going to kill him or die trying, and the big cross dagger was all I had on me. It worked, though it took a bit of doing. So, presto, I knew about silver. Later I found that wood didn't work at all. Got myself a nice scar on the thigh to prove it. That vamp laughed when he saw my stake. Clearly, he wasn't afraid of wood. Then when I was making caramel apples it occurred to me to hide the silver in something a vampire would think was harmless. It didn't seem like such a stretch. Most of you are so busy eyeing my neck, you don't see me pull out my pointy friend. There you have it."

    He shook his head slowly back and forth as if uncomprehending. Finally, he fixed piercing eyes on me and burst out, "Are you telling me bloody caramel apples and books taught you how to kill vampires? Is that what you're saying?"

    He started to pace in short, rapid lengths. "It's a damn good thing most of the recent generations are nearly illiterate or we'd all be in serious trouble. Blimey!" Throwing back his head, he laughed in rich, deep peals of mirth. "That's the funniest bleedin' bit I've heard in decades!" Still chuckling, he returned until he was next to me again.

    "How did you know he was a vampire when you saw him? Did you know, or did you not find out until he tried to have an artery party?"

    Artery party? Well, that was one way to put it. "Honestly, I don't know how I knew. I just did. For starters, your kind looks different. All of you do. Your skin looks...ethereal, almost. You move different, more purposefully. And when I'm near you, I feel it in the air, like static electricity. Happy now? Heard what you wanted?" Desperately I tried to hang on to my courage, but this chattering was eating away at it. Being flippant was all I had left.

    "Almost. How many vampires have you killed? Don't lie to me, or I'll know it."

    Pursing my lips, I considered lying despite the warning. Would it be better if he thought I'd only killed a couple? Maybe it wouldn't make any difference. If he could tell I was lying, perhaps he'd do more than just kill me. There were so many things worse than death...

    "Sixteen, including your friend from last night." Honesty won out.

    "Sixteen?" he repeated in disbelief, looking me over thoroughly again. "Sixteen vampires you took out yourself with nothing but a stake and your cle**age? Makes me ashamed of my kind, it does."

    "And I would have killed more if I hadn't been too young to get into bars, since they're vampire trolling ground, not to mention all the time I had to take off when my grandfather got sick," I flared. So much for trying not to make him angrier.

    In a flash he was gone, leaving me staring at the spot where he'd just been. He certainly moved fast. Faster than any vampire I'd seen. I cursed my earlier impatience. If only I'd waited until the next weekend to hunt again. If only.

    Left alone, I craned my neck to see where I was. With a start, I realized I must be in a ****. There was the sound of dripping water in the background, and it was dark even for my eyes. The single bald lamp only shone light in the immediate vicinity. The rest was blackness as complete as my nightmares. I heard slight echoes of him in the distance, how far away I had no idea. Seizing my chance, I wrapped my fingers around the braces holding me and pulled downward with all of my strength. Sweat popped out on my brow, my legs clenched with effort, and I channeled every muscle toward that singular goal.

    There was a creak of metal in stone, a rasp of chains clanging together, and then the only light was suddenly switched off. Laughter from the darkness made me sag in defeat.

    "Oh, sorry about that. Those won't budge. They're not going anywhere-and neither are you. Good of you to try, though. Hate to think your spirit's broken already. Not much fun in that."

    "I hate you." To avoid sobbing, I turned my face away from his direction and closed my eyes. Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name...

    "Time's up, luv."

    Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done...

    My eyes were closed, but I felt him move closer until he pressed lengthwise next to me. Unable to help it, my breath came in short hard pants. His hands moved to my hair, and he smoothed it back from my neck.

    ...on earth as it is in Heaven...

    His mouth sealed on my throat, tongue circling my thundering pulse in a deliberate manner. My back cut into the wall as I tried to disappear into the rock, but the cold hard limestone offered no escape. I felt the pressure of pointed, sharp teeth at my exposed and vulnerable artery. He was nuzzling my neck the way a hungry lion nuzzled a gazelle.

    "Last chance, Kitten. Who do you work for? Tell me the truth and I'll let you live."

    "I told you the truth." That high-pitched whisper couldn't be mine. The roaring of blood in my ears was deafening. Were my eyes still closed? No, I could see a faint green glow in the darkness. Vampire eyes.

    "I don't believe you..." Softly spoken, yet falling with the weight of an ax.

    Amen...

    "Bloody hell, look at your eyes."

    So deeply had I fallen into the fervent prayer, I hadn't felt him pull back. He stared at me with fanged mouth open in disbelief, his face illuminated in the new green glow of my eyes. His brown ones were now that penetrating shade as well, and matching rays of emerald connected one shocked gaze to another.

    "Look at your bloody eyes!"

    He gripped either side of my head as though it would spin off. Still in a fog from teetering on the brink of mortality, I mumbled my response.

    "Don't need to look at them, I've seen them. They change from gray to green when I'm upset. Happy now? Going to enjoy your meal more?"

    As if my head were scalding, he released me. I sagged in my chains, the adrenaline abandoning me and leaving dizzying lethargy in its wake.
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    Halfway to the Grave
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    The sound of his pacing bounced off the stone walls.

    "Bugger, you're telling the truth. You have to be. You have a pulse, but only vampires have eyes that glow green. This is unbelievable!"

    "Glad you're excited." I peeked at him through my hair, which had tumbled back onto my shoulders. In the near-complete darkness I saw he was definitely worked up, his steps brisk and full of energy, eyes fading from feeding green to snapping brown.

    "Oh, this is perfect! In fact, it could come in right handy."

    "What could come in handy? Either kill me or let me go already. I'm tired."

    He spun around, beaming, and clicked the lamp back on. It cast the same harsh light it had previously, flowing over his features like water. He looked ghostly beautiful under its blanket, like a fallen angel.

    "How would you like to put your money where your mouth is?"

    "What?" To say I was baffled didn't begin to describe it. Seconds ago I was a nick away from eternity, now he wanted to play guessing games.

    "I can kill you or let you live, but living comes with con***ions. Your choice, your pick. Can't let you go without con***ions, you'd just try to stake me."

    "Aren't you the smart one?" Frankly, I didn't believe he'd let me go. This had to be a trick.

    "You see," he continued as if I hadn't spoken, "we're in the same boat, luv. You hunt vampires. I hunt vampires. Both of us have our reasons, and we both have our problems. Another vampire can sense me whenever I'm close, so that makes it bleedin' difficult to stake 'em without them expecting the try and running. You, on the other hand, put them completely at ease with that juicy artery of yours, but you aren't strong enough to bring down the really big fish. Oh, you may have beaten some green ones, probably no older than twenty years, tops. Barely out of their nappies, as it were. But a Master vampire...like me..." His voice dropped to a scathing whisper. "You couldn't bring me down with both stakes blazing. I'd be picking you out of my teeth in minutes. Therefore, I propose a deal. You can continue to do what you love the most-killing vampires. Yet you will only hunt the ones I'm looking for. No exceptions. You're the bait. I'm the hook. It's a capital idea."

    This was a dream. A very bad, bad dream, brought on by liver poisoning from too many gin and tonics. Here it was, a deal with the devil. At what price my soul? He watched me expectantly and threateningly all at the same time. If I said no, I knew what would happen. Save the glass, waitress, I'm drinking from the bottle! Happy hour, with my neck on tap. If I said yes, I'd be agreeing to a partnership with pure evil.

    His foot tapped. "Don't have all night. The longer you wait, the hungrier I get. Might change my mind in a few minutes."

    "I'll do it." The words flew out without thought. If I gave them thought, they'd never be spoken. "But I have a con***ion of my own."

    "Do you?" That made him laugh again. My, what a jolly guy. "You're hardly in a position to demand con***ions."

    My chin stuck out. Pride or peril, take your pick. "Just challenging you to put your money where your mouth is. You said I wouldn't last minutes against you, even with both weapons. I disagree. Unchain me, give me my stuff, and let's go. Winner takes all."

    There was a definite spark of interest in his eyes now, and that sly smile was back on his lips. "And what do you want if you win?"

    "Your death," I said bluntly. "If I can beat you, I don't need you. As you put it, if I just let you walk, you'd come after me. You win, and I play by your rules."

    "You know, pet," he drawled, "with you chained there, I could just have a nice long drink out of your neck and go about my business as usual. You're pushing your luck quite a bit saying this to me."

    "You don't seem the type that likes a boring drink out of a chained artery," I boldly countered. "You seem like the type who likes danger. Why else would a vampire hunt vampires? Well? Are you in, or am I out?" My breath sucked in. This was the moment of truth.

    Slowly he walked over, letting his eyes slide all over me. With a raised brow, he pulled out a metal key and dangled it in front of me. Then he inserted it firmly into the center of my manacles and twisted. They fell open with a clink.

    "Let's see what you've got," he said finally. For the second time that night.

    Chapter Three

    W E FACED EACH OTHER IN THE CENTER OF A large ****rn. The ground underneath was uneven, just rocks upon rocks and dirt. I was dressed again, sans gloves, the stake and my special cross dagger in my hands. He had laughed again when I demanded my clothes back, saying the jeans didn't have give and they would cost me flui***y. Tartly I responded that, flui***y or no, I wasn't battling him in my underwear.

    There were more lights strung up around the area. How he had electricity in this **** was beyond me, but that was the least of my concerns. Underground as we were, I had no idea what time it was. It could already be dawn, or still be deep in the night. Briefly I wondered if I'd ever see the sun again.

    He wore the same clothes as before, flui***y apparently not a concern for him. His eyes snapped with eagerness as he cracked his knuckles and rolled his head around his shoulders. My palms were sweaty with trepidation. Maybe the gloves would have been a good idea after all.

    "All right, Kitten. Because I'm a gentleman, I'll let you have the first try. Come on. Let's do this."

    Without further encouragement I charged him, moving as fast as I could with both weapons pointed murderously. He whirled in a semicircle that left me sailing past him, chuckling infuriatingly as he did so.

    "Going jogging, pet?"

    Catching myself, I glared at him over my shoulder. God in heaven, but he was fast. His movements were almost a blur to me. Gathering my courage, I feinted a broad overhead right swing. When he raised an arm to block, I swiped low with my left hand and slashed him before getting a devastating kick to the midsection in return. Doubled over, I saw him examine his garment with a slight frown.

    "I liked this shirt. Now you've gone and ripped it."

    I circled again, breathing slowly to combat the pain in my stomach. Before I could blink, he came at me and punched the side of my head, hard enough for me to see stars. In mindless defense I kicked, punched, and stabbed at whatever was near me. The returning blows came heavily and rapidly. My breathing was ragged and my vision swam as I lashed out with all of my strength. The room suddenly spun as I was thrown backward, rocks cutting into my skin.

    He stood about ten feet from where I was sprawled. Clearly, in hand-to-hand combat, I was outclassed. I felt like I'd been dropped off a cliff, and there were hardly any marks on him. With a sudden flash of inspiration, I flung my cross. It flew with incredible speed and sank into his chest but too high, too high.
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    Halfway to the Grave
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    "Bloody hell, woman, that hurts!" he snarled in surprise, snatching it from his chest.

    Blood flowed from the wound before stopping abruptly, as if a faucet had been turned off. Contrary to popular belief, vampires did bleed red. I was dismayed, being down to only one weapon and not even having slowed him. Bracing myself, I sprang to my feet, moving with heavy steps.

    "Had enough?" He faced me and sniffed the air, once. I blinked in confusion, never having seen a vampire breathe before. I was panting furiously. Sweat was dripping off my brow.

    "Not yet."

    There was another blur of motion, and then he was on me. I blocked blow after blow and tried to score some of my own, but he was too quick. Fists landed on me with brutal force. Desperately I jabbed the stake into whatever was nearest, but it always missed his heart. After ten minutes or so that seemed like eternity, I fell to the ground for the last time. Unable to move, I gazed at him through swollen eyelids. I don't have to worry about his terms, I thought dully. I was dying from my injuries.

    He loomed over me. Everything was colored red and fading.

    "Enough now?"

    I couldn't speak, couldn't nod, couldn't think. As my answer, I passed out. It was the only action I was capable of.

    There was something soft underneath me. Floating, I was floating on a cloud and covering myself with its fleece. I burrowed farther inside when it spoke to me in irritated tones.

    "If you're going to take all the covers, you can bloody well sleep on the floor!"

    Huh? Since when was a cloud both annoyed and English?

    When I opened my eyes, I saw with horror that I was in a bed with the vampire. And yes, apparently I had the entire blanket wrapped around me.

    Shooting upward as though burned, I immediately banged my head on the low ceiling.

    "Owww..." Rubbing the sore spot, I glanced around in revolted fear. How did I end up here? Why wasn't I in a coma from the beating? In fact, I felt...fine. Aside from the mild concussion I had surely just given myself.

    I backed as far into a corner as I could manage. There didn't seem to be any visible exit to this small limestone chamber. "Why am I not in a hospital?"

    "I healed you," he replied blandly, as if we were discussing tea.

    Numb with fear, I checked my pulse. God, he hadn't turned me, had he? No, my heart pounded strongly.

    "How?"

    "Blood, of course. How else?"

    He leaned back on his elbows, eyeing me with impatience and weariness. He had changed into a new shirt, from what I could see. I didn't even want to know what was under the sheet.

    "Tell me what you did to me!"

    With a roll of his eyes at my hysteria, he fluffed his pillow and then hugged it to him. It was such a human gesture, it was uncanny. Who knew vampires cared if their pillows were fluffed?

    "Gave you a few drops of my blood. Figured you wouldn't need much, what with your being a half-breed. You probably heal fast naturally, but then you were banged up a bit. Your own fault, of course, having suggested that stupid match. Now, if you don't mind, it's daylight and I'm knackered. Didn't even get a meal out of all this."

    "Vampire blood heals?"

    He shut his eyes as he answered me. "You mean you didn't know? Blimey, but you're ignorant about your own kind."

    "Your kind is not my kind."

    He didn't even flinch. "Whatever you say, Kitten."

    "Would too much blood turn me? How much is too much?"

    That got an eye opened balefully at me. "Look, school's out now, luv. I'm going to sleep. You're going to shut up. Later, when I'm awake, we'll go over all of these niceties while I prepare you for our arrangement. Until then, let a fellow get some rest."

    "Show me the way out and you can sleep all you want." Again I looked around for an exit, finding nothing.

    He snorted in derision. "Sure thing. Hows about I fetch your weapons for you as well, then I'll just close my eyes while you plug holes into my heart? Not bloody likely. You're in until I let you out. Don't bother trying to escape, you'd never make it. Now I suggest you get some rest, because if you keep me awake much longer, I'm going to want breakfast. Understand?" He closed his eyes again with finality.

    "I'm not sleeping with you." Indignation filled my tone.

    There was a brief tussling on the bed, and then a sheet hit me in the face.

    "Sleep on the floor, then. You're a cover hog anyhow."

    Left with no other alternative, I lay down on the cold stone ground. The sheet didn't do much to keep out the chill, let alone provide any padding. I maneuvered around, hopelessly trying to find a softer spot before giving up and cradling my head on my arms. At least this was better than being in bed with that thing. I'd sooner sleep on nails. The silence of the room was somehow soothing. One thing was for certain, vampires didn't snore. After a while, I drifted off.

    It could have been hours, it seemed like minutes. A hand none too gently shook my shoulders and that dreaded voice sounded in my ears.

    "Rise and shine. We have work to do."

    My bones gave an audible creak of misery when I stood and stretched. He grinned at the sound.

    "Serves you right for trying to kill me. Last bloke who did that ended up with much more than a stiff neck. You're right lucky you're useful, or you'd be nothing more than a flush in my cheeks by now."

    "Yeah, that's me. Lucky." I felt bitter instead, trapped in a **** with a homicidal vampire.

    He wagged a finger at me. "Don't be glum. You're about to get a first-class education in nosferatu. Believe me, not many humans get to learn this stuff. But then again, you're not really human."

    "Stop saying that. I'm more human than I am...thing."

    "Yes, well, we'll find out just how much shortly. Move away from the wall."

    I complied, not having much choice in this small room and not wanting to be close to him. He stood in front of the stone wall where I'd been sleeping and grasped either side of the rock. With ease, he lifted the slab completely off the ground and set it to the side, exposing a crevice big enough to walk through. So that was how we entered this tomb.

    "Come along," he threw over his shoulder, stepping through it. "Don't dawdle."

    As I squeezed through the narrow opening, a sudden twist of my bladder reminded me that I was still very much dependent on my organs.

    "Um...er, I don't suppose..." To hell with the niceties. "Is there a bathroom in here? One of us still has functioning kidneys."

    He stopped short, arching an eyebrow at me. There were thin streams of light coming from the limestone ceiling, making crisscrossed patterns of illumination throughout the ****. Daytime, then.
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    Halfway to the Grave
    Page 8



    "Do you think this is a bloomin' hotel? What, next you'll be wanting a bidet?"

    With infuriated embarrassment, I ground out, "Unless you like it messy, I suggest you show me an alternative, and fast."

    A noise that sounded very much like a sigh came from him. "Follow me. Don't trip or twist anything, damned if I'll carry you. Let's see what we can come up with. Sodding woman."

    As I clambered after him, I comforted myself with mental images of him writhing helplessly under my stake. The visual was so clear, I almost smiled as he led me toward the sounds of water.

    "There." He pointed to a cluster of rocks that appeared to hang over a small inner stream. "That water runs downstream. You can climb on those rocks and do your business."

    I hurried over, and he called out with an edge to his tone, "By the way, if you're thinking you'll just jump off and swim out of here, it's a bad idea. That water's about forty degrees and snakes over two miles before it exits these ****s. You'd be suffering from hypothermia long before then. Not a nice way to be, shivering and lost in the dark, delusions setting in. Besides, you'd have broken our agreement. I'd find you. And I would be really, really displeased."

    The grim note in his voice made the words sound more lethal than the ****ing of a gun. Despair pricked me. I had been thinking of doing that.

    "See you in a bit." He turned around and walked a short ways away, his back to me. Sighing, I climbed up the rocks and balanced while answering nature's untimely call.

    "I suppose toilet paper's out of the question?" I called out flippantly.

    There was a bark of laughter in reply. "I'll put it on my shopping list, Kitten."

    "Stop calling me Kitten. My name is Cat." Finished, I lowered myself down until I again stood on somewhat solid ground. "What's yours, by the way? You never told me. If we're going to be...working together, at least I should know what to call you. Unless you simply prefer answering to profanity, of course."

    There was that sly curl to his lips again when he faced me. His feet were planted apart and his hips tilted slightly forward. Pale hair hugged his head in tight waves. Under the pinholes of light around him, his skin positively glowed.

    "My name is Bones."

    "First things first, luv. If you're going to be truly good at killing vampires, you need to know more about them."

    We sat on boulders facing each other. The dim light in the **** from the shafts of sun had a vague strobe effect. It had to be by far the strangest moment of my life, sitting across from a vampire calmly discussing the best ways to kill one.

    "Sunlight doesn't do anything but give us a bad sunburn. Our skin won't explode in flames like it does in the movies, and we won't turn into bits of crispy chicken. However, we do like to sleep in the day because we are most powerful at night. That's an important point to remember. During the day we are slower, weaker, and less alert. Especially at dawn. By dawn, you'll find most vampires tucked into whatever they call a bed, which as you could tell from last night doesn't necessarily mean a coffin. Oh, some of the old-fashioned ones will only sleep in coffins, but most of us sleep in whatever's most comfortable. In fact, some vamps will have coffins staged in their lair so some Van Helsing wannabe goes there first while the vampire sneaks up on them. Done that trick a time or two myself. So if you think throwing up the blinds and letting the sun stream in will do the trick, forget it.

    "Crosses. Unless they're rigged up like yours, crosses don't do much more than make us laugh before we eat you. You seem to know that one yourself, so we'll move on. Wood, as you are also aware, might give us splinters and piss us off, but won't stop us from ripping your throat out. Holy water...well, let's just say I've had more damage done to me by someone throwing dirt in my face. The whole religious thing is bunk when it comes to hurting our kind, got it? Your only advantage is that when a vampire sees that special stake of yours, they won't be put off."

    "Aren't you afraid I'll use this information against you?" I interrupted. "I mean, why should you trust me?"

    In all seriousness he leaned forward. I leaned back, not wanting to be any closer to him.

    "Look, pet. You and I are going to have to trust one another to accomplish our objectives. And I'll make this very, very simple: If you so much as look cross-eyed at me and I even wonder if you're thinking about betraying me, I'll kill you. Now, that might not scare you, being the big brave girl you are, but remember this: I followed you home the other night. Got anyone you care about in that barn of a house? Because if you do, then I suggest you make nice with me and do as you're told. If you cross me, you'll live long enough to see that house burned to the ground with everyone still inside. So if you ever make a go for me, you'd better be sure you finish me, understand?"

    Gulping, I nodded. I understood. Oh God, did I ever.

    "Besides"-his voice brightened like a spring day-"I can give you what you want."

    Doubtful. "What could you possibly know about what I want?"

    "You want what every abandoned child wants. You want to find your father. But you don't want a happy reunion, no, not you. You want to kill him."

    I stared at him. He'd spoken aloud what I hadn't even allowed my subconscious to whisper, and he was right. It was the other reason I hunted vampires, to kill the one who fathered me. More than anything, I wanted to do that for my mother. If I could, I would feel I had in some small way atoned for the circumstances of my birth.

    "You..." I could barely speak with all the thoughts flying through my mind. "You can help me find him? How?"

    A shrug. "For starters, I might know him. Know a great many undead types, I do. Face it-without me, you're looking for a needle in a fangstack. Even if I don't personally know him, I already know more about him than you do."

    "What? How? What?"

    He held up a hand to stop my babbling. "Like his age, for example. You're twenty-one, right?"

    "Twenty-two," I whispered, still reeling. "Last month."

    "Indeed? Then you have the wrong age as well as the wrong address on that fake license of yours."

    He must have gone through my purse. Well, it made sense; he'd also stripped me when I was unconscious. "How do you know it's a fake?"

    "Didn't we just cover this? I know your real address, and it's not the one on that license."

    Oh crap. That defeated the purpose of why I'd gotten the phony ID to begin with, in case I ever lost against a vampire and he rifled through my things. I hadn't wanted one to be able to track down my family. That had been the thought, anyway. Stupid me never expected a vampire to follow me home.
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    Halfway to the Grave
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    "Come to think of it, pet, you are a liar, possessor of false identification, and a murderer."

    "Your point?" I snapped.

    "Not to mention a tease," he continued as if I hadn't spoken. "Foulmouthed, as well. Yep, you and I will get along famously."

    "Bollocks," I said succinctly.

    He grinned back at me. "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. But back to the subject. You said your mum carried you for, what, four months? Five?"

    "Five. Why?" I was more than a little curious as to his reasoning. What did that have to do with how old, or how undead, my father was?

    He leaned forward. "See, it's like this. When you're changed, it takes a few days for some of the human functions to cease completely. Oh, the heartbeat stops right off and the breathing as well, but some of the other things take longer. Tear ducts still work normally for the first day or so before you cry only pink due to the blood-to-water ratio in our bodies. You might even piss once or twice to get it out of your system. But the main point is that he still had swimmers in his sacks."

    "Excuse me?"

    "You know, luv. Sperm, if you want to be all technical about it. He still had living sperm in his juice. Now, that's something which would only be possible if he'd been newly changed. Within a week at most. Right off, then, you can pinpoint almost exactly how old he is, in vampire years. Add that to any recent deaths around that time and place matching his description, and bingo! There's your dad."

    I was stunned. Just as promised, in a few seconds he'd given me more information than my mother had known all of my life. Maybe, just maybe, I'd stumbled onto a gold mine. If through him I could learn more about my father and killing vampires, and all he wanted in return was to pick the targets...well, then, I could stomach it. If I lived long enough.

    "Why do you want to help me find my father? In fact, why do you kill other vampires? They're your own kind, after all."

    Bones stared at me for a moment before replying. "I'll help you find your father because I reckon you hate him more than you do me, so it'll keep you motivated to do what I say. As for why I hunt vampires...you don't need to bother about that now. You have more than enough to concern yourself with. Suffice it to say some people just need killing, and that goes for vampires as well as humans."

    I still didn't know why he wanted me to work with him in the first place. Then again, maybe it was all a lie and he was biding his time, intending to rip my throat out when I least suspected it. I didn't trust this creature, not for a moment, but right now I had no choice but to play along. Find out where this led to. If I was still alive in a week, I'd be amazed.

    "Back to the subject at hand, luv. Guns don't work on us, either. There are only two exceptions to that rule. One, if the bloke is lucky enough to shoot our necks in two and our heads topple off. Decapitation does work; not many things can live without a head, and a head is the only part on a vampire that won't grow back if you cut it off. Two, if the gun has silver bullets and enough are fired into the heart to destroy it. Now, that's not as easy as it sounds. No vampire will stand still and pose for you. Likely he'll be on you and the gun shoved up your arse before any real damage is done. But those silver bullets hurt, so you can use them to slow a vamp down and then stake him. And you'd better be quick with that silver, because you'll have one very brassed-off vampire on your hands. Strangulation, drowning, none of that does anything. We only breathe about once an hour for preference, and we can go indefinitely without oxygen. Just a breath now and then to put a dab of oxygen in the blood and we're sound as a pound. Our version of hyperventilating is to breathe once every few minutes. That's one way to tell a vamp is tiring. He'll start to breathe a bit to perk up. Electrocution, poisonous gas, ingestible poisons, drugs...none of those work. Got it? Now you know our weaknesses."

    "Are you sure we can't test some of those theories?"

    He wagged a finger at me reprovingly. "None of that, now. You and I are partners, remember? If you start to forget that, maybe you'd best remember the things I just mentioned would work really well on you."

    "It was a joke," I lied.

    He just gave me a look that said he knew better. "The bottom line is that we are very hard to put down. How you've managed to plant sixteen of us in the ground is beyond me, but then the world never lacks for fools."

    "Hey." Piqued, I defended my skills. "I would have had you in pieces if you hadn't made me drive and then sucker-punched me when I wasn't looking."

    He laughed again. It transformed his face into something I just realized was very beautiful. I looked away, not wanting to see him as anything but a monster. A dangerous monster.

    "Kitten, why do you think I made you drive? I had you pegged five seconds after speaking with you. You were a novice, green to the gills and, once off your routine, helpless as a babe. Of course I sucker-punched you. There is only one way to fight, and that's dirty. Clean, gentlemanly fighting will get you nowhere but dead, and fast. Take every cheap shot, every low blow, absolutely kick people when they're down, and then maybe you'll be the one who walks away. Remember that. You're in a fight to the death. This isn't a boxing match. You can't win by scoring the most points."

    "I get it." Grimly enough, I did. In this he was correct. It was a death match every time I confronted a vampire. Including this one.

    "But now we're off topic. We've covered our weaknesses. On to our strengths, and we have many. Speed, vision, hearing, smell, physical strength-all are superior to a human's. We can scent you long before we see you, and we can hear your heartbeat a mile away. In ad***ion to that, all of us have some form of mind control over humans. A vampire can suck a pint of your blood and seconds later you won't even remember seeing one. It's in our fangs, a little bitty drop of hallucinogen that, when combined with our power, makes you susceptible *****ggestion. Like, for example, someone didn't just suck on your neck but you met a bloke and had a chat and now you're sleepy. That's how most of us feed. A little dab here and a little dab there, and none the wiser for it. If every vampire killed to eat, we'd have been outed from our closet centuries ago."

    "You can control my mind?" The thought horrified me.

    His brown eyes suddenly bled to green and his gaze drilled into mine.

    "Come to me," he whispered, yet the words seemed to resound in my head.

    "No f**king way," I said, chilled at the sudden urge I had to do it.

    Abruptly, his eyes were brown again and he threw a cheery grin my way.

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