Dancing Dragon

by Nicola Claire

  He collapsed to one knee. His breath ragged. Even though vampires don't need oxygen to survive, when they exert themselves it's damn near impossible not to breathe. Pain also does it. An old human spill-over from when they were alive. Suck in a breath and breathe through the pain. This guy was sucking deep. Silver hurts.

  “Just do it,” he said in a low voice.

  “What?” I asked, a little incredulous that he'd end this game so soon. “You're still upright, you can fight.”

  He growled and then spat some blood out of the side of his mouth. Ni-ice.

  We stood there facing each other for a while. When it was obvious that I wasn't going to make it easy for him, he leapt to his feet, gritted his teeth and flew at me. It was a standard vampire attack. Launch and use brute strength. No real strategy. No real plan.

  I dropped to the ground on my back and as he flew over top of where I lay, I thrust my stake up into his heart. He burst into dust above me before he had made it a further foot along. I let the dust flow down around me softly, like a welcome blanket of warmth, holding my breath until it all stilled. Then wiped it off my face and took a slow breath in.

  What was happening to me? I'd never draw a fight out like that before.

  It was the sound of shoes on pavement that made me jump to my feet. I think I would have wallowed there on my back for a bit longer, given the opportunity. But, my sense of sound is keen and although I couldn't see the owner of those expensive sounding shoes yet, I was already prepared to defend myself. Or die trying at least.

  I took a quick glance around me and realised I'd allowed myself to be cornered. This was a dead end delivery lane to several of the shops behind the hotel. Stupid. In my need to fight I had failed to take in my environment. A rookie mistake. Something I hadn't made for at least two years now. Nero would be spinning in his grave.

  I tried a door handle to one of the premises nearby. Used a little Light to free the lock, only to find it had a deadbolt on the other side. I could shift it, if I concentrated hard enough and have enough time. But neither of those was an option. Time was up and for some reason I couldn't think straight to save myself. Now, I felt little tendrils of fear. Suddenly, I was a tasty meal for the vampire who approached.

  I could tell he was a vampire, it's just what I do. A Nosferatin knows a Nosferatu immediately. It's their Sanguis Vitam, it thrums in the air and hums in our mind. This was a high level vampire, no dreg of society like the rogue I'd just dusted. This one had clout.

  I was just about to try to scale a brick wall when he entered the lane. Dressed in faded jeans and a black bomber leather jacket. Thick soled biker's boots on his feet and a dark green, almost black T-Shirt hugging his muscular chest. He looked all business. That's the business of taking care of a vampire hunter who strays.

  My eyes trailed up the length of his immaculate tall frame and took in a familiar, handsome and arrogant face. I let a breath of air out in relief and then bit my bottom lip to bring me back to reality. If he was here, it was for one thing. And I certainly wasn't going to give it to him.

  “You should know better than to play with them, before you end their lives, Ms. Monk.”

  He'd found me. After only two months of hiding, Avery Rousseau had tracked me down.

  Find more Nicola Claire books at: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5831941.Nicola_Claire