Page 40 of Vampire so Virtuous
She hesitated. “Vampires are stories.”
“Sure. But people aren’t, and people like vampires. Maybe some sick bastard drugged you, did God knows what to your neck.” His jaw tightened, his hand curling into a fist. “If that’s the case, and if I can find him, I’m going to be asking him some pointed questions about where he was two decades ago. In between kicking the shit out of him.”
Cally shook her head, trying to process. The whole thing felt surreal, like a twisted campfire story. But Joon would never make up something like that. “I’m so sorry, Joon. I had no idea.”
“It’s been fifteen years. It’s not about me, or Hana. Not anymore.” He waved her off. “It’s you I’m worried about, Cally.”
“Well,” she said, forcing a wry smile, “if anyone tries anything, I’ll be ready for them now.”
“You’d better be. You know all those times I told you not to be impulsive?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Ignore it. For this, anyway. Someone tries to mess with you, you go atthem as hard as you went at me today. And don’t stop until they can’t fucking move.”
“You can count on it.”
“Don’t forget, Cally, it’s not the size of the dog in the fight—”
“—But the size of the fight in the dog.” She rolled her eyes. “You tell me at least once a week.”
Twelve – Cally
“See you later. Be safe, okay?”
Cally slung her bag over her shoulder and gave Joon a wave. “Don’t worry about me. See you in a couple of days.”
The dojang was on the first floor, sharing the building with a run-down gym, but with its own entrance. Cally pushed open the outside door and hesitated. Around the corner of the building and through the parking lot at the rear was her usual shortcut, leading to the alley where that fateful encounter had occurred. She hadn’t taken it since, opting for the longer route.
But after her conversation with Joon, her fear had receded.
The hell with it. It’s just an alleyway.
She almost hoped she’d find the creep who’d done this. And if she did, she’d kick his balls so hard he’d be scratching his throat when he got an itch.
For some reason, she’d thought the threat was greater—insubstantial, uncatchable, and scarier for being something she couldn’t fight. But if it was a creep with a needle, like Joon had said, it wasn’t a faceless demon. She would stay alert and strike fast.
A car pulled into the empty parking lot as she was halfway across, then accelerated, tires spinning and screeching, racing to cut across her path. It skidded to a stop, and so did Cally.
First night in two weeks taking this shortcut, and this happens? You have got to be kidding me.
Despite craving a fight, the first rule of any martial art was to run. Cally gripped the strap of her backpack and spun back toward the dojang.
Hardly had she taken a pace when she noticed the two men behind her, no more than a dozen feet away, having approached with surprising stealth. Both were large men, dressed in dark jeans and flannel shirts. They watched her carefully.
So it was like that? Fine.
The car’s door opened, and a man stepped out. Jeans, bomber jacket, and a leer as greasy as his hair.
“Evening, little lady. Need a ride somewhere?”
“No, thank you.” They had no idea what kind of mood she was in, but they were about to find out if they didn’t accept her polite rejection. Part of her was feeling reckless: she hoped they wouldn’t.
These weren’t demons, and this was an opportunity to let off some steam.
Joon gave me permission to go hard. So long as they don’t pull a gun.
She hadn’t bought one yet.
