Page 2 of The Gloaming

I smirked. “It’s only been a couple of weeks. He’s probablyshacked up with some Scottish girl he met in a bar.”

Tom laughed. “Maybe. Or dragging her up a mountain or something.”

“Oh, I know all about the ‘guy’ stuff you get up to when I’m not around, Chowdhury.” I waggled a finger at him. “On that much, my instincts are pretty sharp.”

He spread the cards across the desk in a fan. “What are we supposed to do while you’re off being badass and killing things, eh?”

“I dunno,” I mocked. “Tear your hair out with worry? Knit?”

“Come off it,” he chuckled along with me. “You’re fine on your own.”

I shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to know someone cares.”

Tom shook his head and gestured me over. “Play me?”

I glanced at the time again. 3.14 A.M. “Sure. Ready to lose?”

Before he could reply, a beam of blue light fell in through the open curtains of the bay window, flashing around and around in a familiar swirl that caused my stomach to drop. Tom shot me a look of alarm as I stood slowly.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing!” I was already edging into the kitchen, towards the back door.

“Shit. Okay, go. Hide. I’ll deal with them.”

I hesitated, wracking my brain as I shoved my feet into unlaced Dr Martens. I had no idea what this was about.

“Just hide!”

???

Iran. The icy wind bit into my skin, burning my lungs as I pushed my limbs faster than I’d ever run before. Slowing down wasn’t an option.

The skies were clear and starry as I sped toward the city, away from the house. Even now, part of me registered it was a perfect night for hunting. And if killing something would help release the tight, dull ache in my chest, that’s what I would do.

My heavy boots battered the ground beneath my feet, never faltering on the icy pavement. It was only November, but the night was deathly cold, and my cheeks grew numb as I forced my body onward. Away. It didn’t matter where to. I cast my senses ahead, throwing them before me like a net, seeking the empty patches in my mind that signalled something unnatural. It was after four in the morning, but somewhere, someone might need me. Something would oblige my need for violence.

Pockets of late-night stragglers lingered on the street, huddled close to the light and warmth of the few pubs and bars still open. I sped past, ignoring the bursts of sound from within.

It only took a few minutes of searching before I felt it. An uncomfortable alertness settled over my body like a veil of ice, and I slowed to a walk to catch my breath. Goosebumps crept over my skin, and I shuddered, though my pulse was pounding in my ears and my blood hot. I hadn’t seen the cause of the sensation yet, but my instincts were sharp from years of practice. In this, I trusted them absolutely.

I let the feeling take over my mind and body, flooding through me to almost sweep away the unthinkable thoughts the last hour had brought – since I’d first seen those blue lights.There. In the thin white glow from the streetlights, two women turned the corner ahead of me, blending into the shadows of the alley as though they’d never been there at all. My skin prickled, and the hairs raised on the back of my neck. I picked up my pace, keeping close to the wall.

The rich scent of tobacco filled the air as I edged toward the alley where they’d disappeared, and sneaked a glance into the passage. The dark-haired woman had lit a cigarette and handed the lighter to her blonde friend as she leaned against the wall. She inhaled and tilted her head back, closing her eyes as she blew smoke artfully into the frigid night. Both women were attractive, so similar at first sight that you’d assume they were related: high cheekbones, symmetrical features, and large, dark eyes. The blonde was a few inches taller in glossy black heels.

I observed them for a moment, my pulse pounding in my ears. From the sheer, form-fitting dresses and heavy make-up they both wore, they were probably passing as students from one of the local unis. They looked to be about the right age, not that appearances meant much. But the ruse was simple enough to be believable – unless, of course, you happened across someone like me. Keeping an eye on them, I assessed the short, narrow alley. From my position, I should have a slight advantage. Emphasis onslight.

I took a deep, silent breath, reigning in the simmering heat in my blood that begged to be released. My body trembled as I held it back, waiting, the taste of fire a metallic tang that filled my mouth.

The blonde was distracted, rifling around in her bag. Nowwas the moment. I stepped forward, the streetlamp behind throwing my face deeply into shadow. Everything about the alley was dim and filthy, from the sweet stench of refuse to the grotty, spray-painted graffiti across the brickwork. On a normal night, I might have worked harder to draw them out – if only to get away from the smell. But tonight was not a normal night.

“You know, they reckon cigarettes are bad for you. I guess that’s not a worry when you’re dead?” I frowned. “But second-hand smoke in a public place… that’s just rude.”

The smoker barely reacted, throwing a lazy glance my way. But her blonde friend’s head snapped up at the sound of my voice.

“Excellent,” she murmured, scarlet-painted lips curling. “A late-night snack.”

I resisted rolling my eyes. Vampires had no imagination.

---