Page 50 of House of Crimson Kisses
“A gang?” he says, scepticism leaching through his words.
“Of vampires. Yes. Ones for hire who are good at keeping their mouths shut. You’re not the only one sniffing around for information.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
She shrugs. “One favour, one piece of information. You’ll find the gang in the west of the city, not far from here, as it happens.”
“Thank you,” Xavier says.
“Good seeing you, Rhea,” I say.
She stubs her cigarette out and flicks open the lid tapping the base for another.
“Those things will kill you,” I say.
She huffs out a raspy laugh. “With the business I’m in, there’s always someone trying to kill me.”
* * *
Turns out, this particular gang of vampires is rather dense when off duty. There’s a group of six vampires built like castles sat around a metal fire barrel spit-roasting a keg of blood.
“Gods, could you be any more uncouth,” Xavier says.
“Could they be any more obvious?” I shake my head. “There is six of them, though.”
“Oh darling, you’ll be fine, you’re a savage when you want to be.”
I crack my neck, let my fangs drop, “Hold my jacket.”
My plan is to drop two of them before they figure out what’s going on. If I can do that, I shouldn’t have too much trouble taking on the rest. They might look like athletic enthusiasts, but they’re young—which means they’ll be weak and probably reckless.
I sprint across the field, hand out, nails sharp and ready to slice. I draw my hand across the first vampire’s neck, slashing his throat and use the momentum to grip and rip. His head pings off, and unfortunately for me, drops straight into the barrel, causing the fire to spray sparks everywhere.
The three vampires the other side of the barrel spring up. But I’m already on the back of the second, my nails sunk into the underside of his chin, which I clench and rip, tearing his jaw clean off.
He collapses to the floor; I leap off his back and land with my foot in what’s left of his face. Stamping down, I squish my foot into the ground, squelching through what’s left of his neck. Then I reach down, punch my fist through his rib cage and pull his heart out. A sweet smile forming on my lips as I chuck the heart on the fire and use my other leg to kick the severed body away, makes the other vampires take one look at me and scarper.
The vampire still sat down is the one I have my eyes set on. The one who, given his stature and the brief flash of his eyes I remember from that night, is the one I want.
He stands, his eyes widen and then my luck runs out because he too runs.
It takes another ten minutes of chasing this motherfucker through the park to hunt him down. I’m quietly cussing Xavier for the race earlier this evening because my energy is spent.
Thankfully, the lazy arsehole decides to get off his pretty little backside and help.
The vampire tears across the field towards a copse of trees. I catch the flash of Xavier’s movement right as the vampire cocks his head over his shoulder to glance at me.
As he breaches the woody area, he goes flying and careens headfirst into a thick tree. I skid to a halt and pick up his bleeding carcass.
I drag his leaden body by the scruff of his shirt towards Xavier. The shirt rips, the seams splitting under the pressure of his body weight. That’s when I see Xavier found something that looks like old, discarded rope and tied it between two trees.
“Are you going to help or are you going to stand there watching?” I snap.
“I thought I was the pretty face? I helped.” He gestures at the rope the vampire tripped over. “You have vampire. What’s the problem?” He examines his nails all the while leaning against a tree, and my blood boils.
“Xavier,” I bark.
“What? Come on, you didn’t expect me to actually do any real work did you?”
