Page 28

ZAVIER

R ain pelts my body and slides down my face. I’m beyond soaked at this point but it’s a welcome shower from nature with the amount of blood that coats me. At this rate, there won’t be a trace on me by the time I make it home.

Frank sung like a canary, like I knew he would, and freely admitted to his wrongdoings by the time I was done with him. Dragging him back to the abandoned building he’d been hiding in was the appetizer to his main course of torture.

Skin shredded and bleeding profusely from the scrapes, he wimped out early on, but I made sure to catch his confession on tape.

I wasn’t necessarily in the bad guy killing game for the police but there were certain situations like Frank where he flew under their radar, so I lent a helping hand.

I could only handle their idiocy for so long.

The case of the missing and abused girls would be wrapped up in a pretty bow with the confession from Frank.

Hopefully those girls’ families could finally rest easy knowing the killer is gone.

I hope the cops won’t take too long and still find my masterpiece while it’s fresh. I left a blood drawn heart this time instead of a smiley face. Just for Celine. Even when I’m killing, I’m only thinking of her.

Rain continues to pour as I head back to the apartment. One quick glance at the cameras via my phone show Celine sound asleep right where I left her. She’s shifted in her sleep and hugs my pillow like she’s sought me out in her unconscious state.

I whistle as I skip down the street having made it back to the building. Water flies as I splash in a particularly large puddle, dispersing the last of the blood remaining on my shoes.

Sudden movement out of the corner of my eye distracts me from my warpath to the front door of the apartment building. A hulking form emerges from the shadows and moves toward the door, but I can sense something is off.

It stops and erratically sniffs the air before turning abruptly in my direction. I have less than a second to process exactly what I’m looking at before it launches at me with lethal intent.

A fucking feral vampire.

I can tell by the pungent smell. Essentially a mindless zombie, this beast must’ve been turned hours ago by someone.

Whether it was purposeful or not, he hasn’t fed enough to complete the transition and is mad with bloodlust. Left to simmer in it too long he’ll never be able to come back since the grace period isn’t very long.

Ugh. This is going to get messy, and I just got clean.

A vicious snarl rips from the throat of the imposing creature, and I go into defense mode, fangs dropping down.

Talon like nails rip at the fabric of my shirt and tear through like butter.

The long nails take me by surprise, like whoever this once was, has been held for a long time before being turned.

Ferals are animalistic in their half-turned state, and it gives them an edge.

I grit my teeth at the sting when he grips my arm, nails biting into my skin.

Venom pumps through my system but only a small amount since the feral doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Young vamps have particularly potent venom due to imbalanced systems, and it hurts like a bitch.

I bite my lip to stifle the pain, blood coating my tongue from the force.

He chomps at the air, and I swerve out of the way, so he doesn’t snag my neck.

Like a piranha on steroids, he attempts to bite any part of me he can and manages to get my pec.

“Fuck!” Finally gaining purchase, I rip him off, but he tears a chunk out of my skin. “Asshole! I like this shirt.” The feral vampire growls in response, and launches himself back at me. “I would rather nobody but my mate leave love bites on my chest.”

We’re lucky there aren’t any humans passing by, but I don’t want to take a chance of anyone seeing and getting caught in the crosshairs. This fucker will have to die.

I grip his shirt and toss him down the side of the building where I know there’s a blind spot from the street cameras. It’s like moving a mountain to get him where I want him and I’m already panting with exertion.

It’s odd he attacked me the way he did. Feral vamps are hard to control both by themselves and others, especially once they’re past the point of saving, but they don’t tend to go for aged vampires like he did just now.

A small part of them recognizes they’ll lose the battle against us while they still hold a semblance of consciousness.

Something about me set off his hunting instincts.

Having had enough of me he grabs at my back and shreds through my shirt causing it to flap in the wind and rain. So much for salvaging that.

I grab his arm and try to flip him over me and onto the ground which works, until he pulls me down with him.

Normally, I’d be in a better position to resist but I’m at a disadvantage thanks to Celine.

She has me burning through my supply like crazy.

My libido and need to claim her are riding me hard and living together has only made it worse.

I should’ve stocked up again tonight but didn’t realize getting attacked was in the cards.

He attempts to bite my leg but with a swift kick to his face I dart away from him.

His jaw dislocates but it doesn’t deter him and the crazed look in his eye only gets worse.

Scanning the area around us I spot a “No Thru Alley” sign planted in the ground and make a quick decision.

Dumb enough to not understand he doesn’t make any move to stop me when I rip it out of the ground and smash him over the head with it.

How does one kill a feral vampire? Stereotypes don’t hold true. Sunlight, garlic, fire, and holy water are all out but it sure would make it a hell of a lot easier if they weren’t. The only sure way to execute a feral is a stab to the heart.

In our first hundred years of undead life our heart still exists within our bodies. It pumps blood just like any human heart but at a much slower rate. The older we get the more our hearts will disintegrate until finally they wither away into dust making it a sign of our maturity.

A vampire like myself is much harder to kill because of it.

Vampy attempts to get back up, apparently not one to give in.

I toss the sign in the air and grip it closer to the bottom portion.

My boot plants onto his chest to keep him down and I straddle his broad chest for better aim.

Slamming the base of the sign through his chest it cleanly slices through the vital organ, pinning him to the concrete.

An awful screech leaves his mouth, and he flails in a last-minute attempt to save himself.

Eyes bulge out of their sockets as his life is extinguished right in front of me.

Just as I move to get up thinking I’m home free, the slick fuck gets a second wind and slashes me deep in the stomach.

Intense pain radiates through my entire being, his venom partially paralyzing me from the new dose and the slow burn of the initial cut.

Lifeless eyes stare up at the sky as his body falls to the ground with a resounding thud.

Knowing I can’t leave him here looking like this I do the best I can to toss him in the dumpster beside us.

It’s slow going with my wound and exhaustion but I manage to toss him over the edge.

For a second his arm doesn’t want to go in until I nudge it and close the lid to hide his mangled body. Not a perfect disposal but it’ll have to do.

“Bye bye!” I wave at the dumpster.

I need to get upstairs. At this rate I’ll waste away on the pavement.

My emergency blood bag is in my closet and it’s vital I get it as soon as possible.

The venom is screwing with my natural healing.

Vampires have some of the fastest healing in the supernatural community but I’m not healing like I should.

Come on, Zavier. Pull yourself together. You’ve been through worse.

Somehow managing to make it into the building and onto the elevator I slam my palm against the floor 24 button.

I pant loudly as I struggle to stay with it.

My vision blurs, and my legs don’t want to support my weight.

My stomach feels like it’s gone through a meat grinder, and I try to press my arms against it best I can.

Blood flows steadily and I know the amount I’m losing is enough to warrant more than the one blood bag I have on reserve.

Fuck.

The elevator dings to signal I’m in the homestretch and when the doors open, I almost pitch forward onto the ground.

I keep hold of my waist with one arm and plant my other against the wall to drag myself down the hallway.

Celine’s scent faintly fills the long corridor, and I use it to fuel my slowly dying ember of motivation.

Dark spots take over my sight and I gasp when the pain becomes unbearable.

This fucker got me good.

I’ve been hurt many times over the last three hundred years, a few times where I wasn’t sure I’d make it through, but this is skirting death a little too closely for me. Lesson learned; always make sure I’m full.

So. Close.

The door is within reach, but I’m fading fast. As I reach for the door handle my body finally gives in and I collapse, falling into the door face first. It’s such a hard fall my nose crunches under impact against the sturdy wood.

The resounding thud of my body sliding down is deafening and I hear a distant startled yelp from the other side.

Celine.

She shuffles out of bed, and I hear her muttering in question, not understanding what the culprit of the loud noise is. My vision is almost fully gone now and the pitter patter of her feet against the hardwood making her way to the door is an echo in my ears.

Celine.

My mate.

This can’t be the end.

She doesn’t know how big of a dick I have yet.

I’m going to die and she doesn’t even know.

This is the worst.