Page 10 of Hunters and Prey

Chapter 5

Tom couldn't comprehend the scene unfolding before his eyes. He barely saw a thing at all. One moment, the woman was lunging at the largest of their assailants, her booted feet colliding with his face so hard he heard it crack; the next, on the other side of the alleyway, the first man rushing toward him fell to the ground, headless. Tom would have sworn he saw one of the woman's swords fly right out of his throat before returning to its master, like some sort of boomerang. She grabbed hold of one of the weapons and thrust it deep inside the chest of the man to her right in a movement that shouldn't have been so graceful.

He was going to be sick. So much blood. A rotting, ironish smell took over, making his stomach churn.

Tom knew there was magic in the world. He was curious enough to have wondered about it and researched what he could. Knowing was quite different from seeing, though.

He soon realized he was not to witness a dance of flying swords from all sides. The guys around them were just as baffled as him, and a great deal more frightened. With good reason. In the seconds it took him to look to his left, checking on the advancing sups from the side of the alleyway the woman wasn't covering, she'd killed the other two men on his right.

The woman now turned to the survivors, who exchanged glances.

"I'd give you a chance to run, if I could," she stated, coldly, somewhat resigned.

One of the eight sups blocking their exit pivoted and started to run away. He made it five feet before finding a sword in his spine.

Tom didn't even try to stop himself; he bent over and threw up against a dumpster. The contents of his stomach mercifully didn't stain his shoes or pants.

What the hell was she? A murderer, for one. Tom couldn't go with her, he couldn't. Maybe he would have been better off with the succubus.

Yeah, and how was he supposed to tell her that?

By the time he managed to stand upright, there were seven more bodies bleeding out, and she was fitting her daggers on her belt.

Tom couldn't breathe.

"Run, run, run,"said a coward inside him.

"Stay, stay, stay," something else whispered. Another kind of coward, no doubt.

"What sort of a monster are you?" he demanded.

If she was offended, she didn't show it.

"A vampire," she stated. "Like most of them."

Tom snorted. If she'd been like most of them, she wouldn't have torn them apart in the time it took him to down a beer.

"Yeah, right."

She sighed. "We can't stay here. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I've not threatened you, used any power on you, and I think you know how easy it would be for me to throw you over my shoulder and take you wherever I wanted."

Effortless. And he was loath to admit it, but the fact that she hadn't did count for something.

He looked at the bodies, all twelve of them. That they'd tried to reach him was undeniable; and if it wasn't for her, they would have managed. Like it or not, right now she was his best option.

"Where are we going?"

She tilted her head toward the carpark. "Right now? Out of here."

Out of here did sound great.

The woman stopped in front of a black and pink motorcycle and unhooked a helmet, handing it to him.

Tom hesitated.

"My head's less fragile than yours," she said, with a smile that made him think there was more to her than a murderer, more than a vampire.

But it wasn’t why he hadn't immediately taken it from her. Something told him that leaving this place with her right now wasn't a weird-ass adventure he'd laugh about with his pals in a couple of years. If he went with her, for better or worse, things would change. His simple life would change. At the very least, he'd know another world, a world where pretty girls left bodies in their wake.

Tonight would change his life, one way or another. That was a fact. He knew for a fact that he wouldn't feel safe again; he'd take every kind of martial art until he felt like he could protect himself to his dying day. He'd look into protecting his mind from the bullshit of succubi. He'd tell his sister to work on her punches as diligently as she worked on her homework.

But if he went with the vampire…absolutely everything would change. He couldn't tell how, but he knew it.

She was kind enough to give him a minute, remaining so very still, unmoving, the helmet in her hand. She'd sort of threatened him, letting him know that she could kidnap him if she wished to. But right now, she was giving him a choice, or at least the illusion of a choice. He desperately needed it.

"Pink, really?" he asked, grasping the helmet with both hands and putting it on his head.

Oh well. His life was pretty boring, in any case.

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