Page 3 of Tattered Huntress
‘But—’
I yanked her another few feet further away. ‘Count to five,’ I told her.
I could feel her trembling but she did as I asked. ‘One, two, th-three,’ she stuttered. ‘Four, five.’
We stared at the vampire’s body. The little receipt hadalready burned out. ‘Is something supposed to happen?’ the woman asked.
That was embarrassing. I delved into my pocket again, hoping to find another useful scrap of paper.
A moment later, the vampire burst into flames. About bloody time.
The woman dived behind me, using my body to shield hers, then she seemed to realise what she was doing and I heard a muffled apology – although she stayed where she was. I waited, watching the vamp be incinerated into ash. It would have been far more impressive if he’d actually combusted when she’d finished counting. Oh well; I suppose the end result was the same.
‘You shouldn’t be wandering the streets at night on your own if you don’t have proper protection,’ I said, once it was clear that the vampire definitely wouldn’t rise again.
‘I had an argument with my boyfriend,’ the woman said shakily. ‘And I couldn’t get a taxi. There aren’t supposed to be many vampires around at the moment. I thought it would be safe.’
I bit back my admonition that it obviouslywasn’tsafe. ‘At the very least arm yourself with some vamp spray for next time.’
Her eyes widened. ‘I did! It didn’t work!’ She held up her bag, which she was still clinging on to and pulled out a little bottle.
I frowned, took it from her and sprayed it into the air in front of me. It was supposed to be a combination of holy water and wild garlic but, as far as I could tell, this particular version was nothing more than water laced with a synthetic garlic scent. ‘You were conned,’ I said.
Her shoulders dropped. ‘Yeah,’ she mumbled. ‘I realise that.’ She looked beyond me. ‘Is my shoe?—?’
‘Burnt to a crisp. You’ll be hobbling home. Where do you live?’
‘Chambers Street,’ she whispered.
It wasn’t far. ‘I’ll walk you there.’
Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Thank you.’ She stared at me. ‘How did you know what to do? How did you know how to beat him?’
‘Practice,’ I said, although I knew what she was really asking. I am a skinny, five-foot-five, unarmed woman and I don’t look as if I could beat up a small child, let alone a vampire.
I sighed and relented, tucking my hair behind my ears so she could see the truth.
‘You’re an elf,’ she breathed. She looked me up and down again. ‘But?—’
‘I’m a low elf,’ I told her. ‘I’m not high born.’
She nodded as if she understood. Perhaps she did; some humans recognised the difference. High elves have power, wealth, copious amounts of elemental magic and good looks; low elves have zero power, no wealth, a mere smattering of barely controlled magic – and they usually have acne, too. It sucks. But I’d long since learned that complaining about things I couldn’t change was a highway to nowhere.
‘Can I do something?’ the woman asked. ‘Or give you something? As a heartfelt thank you for saving my life?’
I was tempted to ask her for some spare cash, but that seemed cruel considering what she’d just been through. ‘No.’ I smiled. ‘It was my pleasure to help.’
‘If you don’t want money, I can owe you a favour instead,’ she said. ‘Whatever you need in the future, you can come to me and?—’
‘No!’ My refusal was louder and more forceful than I’d intended. She winced and I softened my tone. ‘Never do that. Never grant anyone an unnamed future favour, especiallysomeone with magic. You could end up giving away everything that’s ever mattered to you.’
She blanched. ‘Oh. Okay. Sorry.’
I wondered how on earth this woman had managed to get through life unscathed thus far. ‘Come on,’ I said, before she promised me her first born. ‘Let’s get you home.’
Chapter
Two
