Page 51 of Loving A Vampire Is Total Chaos

Death’s Assistant: I have a target for you.

CHAPTER 21

ZAVIER

Under the cover of night and falling rain, I run through the streets, so fast that all anyone who’s looking would see is a strange blur. I could take my car, but I crave the cold bite of the elements on my skin right now. It serves to keep me centered and remember my ultimate goal—ridding the streets of the worst kind of scum.

I reach my destination in the form of a luxury hotel downtown. What seems to be an exclusive, high-class establishment that’s invite only to humans is actually a central meeting place for supernaturals in Chicago. It is indeed a hotel, but it’s also used for more than that. Conferences, social gatherings, secret meetings, and sexual debauchery all go on within these halls.

A group of powerful supernaturals own the building and keep it running smoothly. I’ve used it many times when I’ve been in the area over the years for meeting purposes and it’s the perfect place to do so now.

Flashing my membership card to the doorman he nods and holds it open for me. I swiftly zip to our agreed upon room and spot my contact leaning against the window.

“Whatcha’ got for me?” I ask.

A man of few words, the vampire simply holds out a folder for me and I grab it from him. He crosses his thick arms over his chest and continues to survey the city while I review the information. His hair is cropped close to his scalp, his eyes a bright shade of blue.

“Good one this time.” I whistle gleefully. It’s a sick fuck I was stalking for months that got spooked and even though I was careful to always cover my tracks, he got paranoid that he was being watched. “Pleasure doing business as always.” I pat his shoulder and receive a growl for it.

Not wasting time, I exit the hotel in record time. I don’t stop until I’m slipping into the entrance of an abandoned, dilapidated building on the outskirts of the city. It’s positioned perfectly to hide a piece of shit like Frank Denvers.

He’s somehow given the police the slip while wreaking havoc in various cities. Abuse and murder are just a few of his offenses and I’m putting a stop to it right now.

My boots are silent as I slink along the edge of the building and spot a small fire burning in a stove in the middle of the room. Frank himself is sat in front of it on an old holey couch, without a care in the world. I can’t help but snort at the fact that he’s even hooked up a TV. I guess he doesn’t want to miss his favorite reality shows while he’s hiding out.

Blood steadily drips from a body he has strung up in one corner of the room. I wrinkle my nose at the stench of body odor and sweat from Frank as well as the decaying corpse.

The taste and scent of blood changes drastically as a body decomposes. It becomes downright rancid, like spoiled milk to a human.

I was hoping my contact gave me the information fast enough that I’d be able to take Frank out before he added another kill to his list, but unfortunately, I’m too late. I can at least guarantee this will be his last ever kill.

Ashes twist and float through the room with the scent of sulfur. The rain helps cover it where any typical human wouldn’t be able to smell it. Frank thinks he's safe here. He thinks he can come back to Chicago and go about his typical bullshit. Instead, he’ll be paying with his life.

Getting back to one of my favorite pastimes feels good since it’s been put on the sidelines with Celine occupying my time lately.

Not one for delaying my entrance, I stroll into the space and openly greet Frank.

“What’s up, Shithead?” I lean against a pole feet away from him and cross my ankles.

Showtime.

“Who the fuck are you?” He startles and jumps up from his seated position one the couch. Despite the fire, his breath puffs in front of him and nasty yellow teeth flash at me when he opens his mouth.

“I could be cliche and say your worst nightmare, but it’s kind of the truth.” My footsteps echo when I slowly approach. The idiot doesn’t have anyone here with him, so it’ll make for an easy kill. Kind of disappointing though, I wouldn’t say no to a mass murder. “You’ve been a very bad boy, Frank.” I see the exact moment my aura hits him, and he quivers. His body knows he should run but his mind is stubborn like most humans, and he stays rooted where he is.

Frank rips a glock out of his pocket, and trains it on my chest, but I continue my advance. “I’ll shoot!” Shaky fingers unlock the safety on the gun, but I simply smile.

“Frank, Frank, Frank.” A piece of trash crunches under my shoe much like Frank will very soon. “I had hoped you’d make this more fun for me. What do you say? Let’s make a game out of it.” A brilliant idea pops into my head. “Hide and seek. If you can manage to outsmart me, I’ll let you go.”

I won’t, but humans do love the illusion of winning.

“What are you talking about? How about I shoot you right now and be done with it.” Spit flies while he yells. He grips the gun tighter and holds it up to my forehead when I stand right in front of him.

Am I risking him shooting me? Of course, but I’m faster than he could ever imagine and would be out of the way before the bullet even left the chamber. And even if he did manage to shoot me, it might hurt like a bitch but I won’t die.

“You want to know what’s going on? Fine, I’ll give you a hint.” I roll my neck and I’m rewarded with a satisfying crack. “Laura. Chloe. Eleanor.” Muddy brown eyes, nothing like Celine’s, widen in fear as he catches my drift. “All broken and bloody by your hand. There are others I can name too. Shall I continue?”

“You don’t know anything about anyone.” Tremors flood his body, and the gun violently shakes in his grip. I clutch it and twist his wrist behind his back in one fell swoop. His yelp of pain fuels my fire.

---