Мишель Роуэн - Bitten & Smitten

“The bite on your neck makes you mine. It’s a no-return policy.”

Then he appeared to come back to his senses. His face relaxed and his eyebrows knitted together into a frown as he reached toward me. I scurried back out of his range, eyes wide, pressing my hand against my stinging cheek.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” he sputtered as he moved closer to me. “I didn’t mean to do that. What the hell was I thinking?”

I wrapped my other hand around the cool can of pepper spray at the very bottom of my purse. My eyes were still unfocused, but I managed to yank the can out and spray him long and hard in the eyes. He howled in pain and clawed at his face. I turned on my heels and did what any self-respecting girl with a neck wound does when she finds herself in a cemetery after midnight with a crazy guy who thinks he’s a vampire. Ran like hell. Crazy. Yup. Definitely bipolar, and very likely in need of some serious therapy. It was probably something that happened to him in childhood that had turned him into such a loon. I’d minored in psychology during the year I spent at the University of Toronto before dropping out. Loony. That was the professional verdict. In serious need of help. Just like I was at the moment. I ran through the cemetery. Big cemetery. Where the hell was the road? Finally I saw the stone entry gates straight ahead of me. I heard Gordon, not that far behind, yelling for me to slow down. Yeah, like that was going to happen. Not bloody likely. The three-inch heel on one of my black leather sling-backs chose that moment to snap off. Those shoes had cost me the better part of last month’s paycheck, so it was a little disappointing, to say the least, that they couldn’t take a little pressure. I crashed to the ground in a heap, but sprang up just as quickly, like one of those Bozo the Clown punching bags. The adrenaline coursing through my veins was definitely helpful, but I felt lightheaded. The loss of blood from the bite on my neck was finally catching up to me. Maybe it was more serious than I’d originally thought. I pulled off what was left of the shoe, spun around, and threw it in the direction of my pursuer.

“Ow!” he yelled as the sling back met its mark.

Since it was impossible for me to run lopsided, I sent the other shoe sailing in the same direction like a small, expensive, Italian-leather missile. That one missed the target, so I hurled a few choice expletives behind it.

“Come on!” Gordon called after me. “Sarah, baby, we can work this out!”

I ran through the entrance of the cemetery and straight into something firm and unyielding. I looked up. It was something tall, muscular, and blue-eyed. A street-lamp shone above him like a beacon from heaven itself.

“Whoa there, miss,” the unyielding stranger said. “Slow down.”

I was gasping for breath after my sprint. “Oh, thank God! You have to help me.”

The man’s gaze slid from my neck wound over to my date from hell, who had almost reached us.

“Don’t worry about a thing, darlin‘,” he said and smiled. His teeth were shiny white in the moonlight.

Two more men emerged from the shadows, one as thin as a rail with stringy blond hair, the other big and burly with so many tattoos that they peeked out at the edge of his neck past his dark shirt and jacket. I hadn’t noticed anyone else around until they’d moved. Hey, the more the merrier.

The man with the shiny teeth gently pushed me aside. “You wait right there, darlin‘. We’ll deal with you in a moment.”

I nodded and exhaled deeply. Wow, it was just my luck that these fine gentlemen were out for a walk in the cemetery. After midnight. I frowned. What the hell were they doing here, anyhow? Seemed like quite the lucky coincidence, if you asked me. But since it was working out in my favor, I kept my questions to myself. Gordon skidded to a halt in front of us, blinking rapidly and rubbing his eyes from the shot of pepper spray. There was a small red mark on his forehead—probably from the shoe. I had my arms wrapped around myself to keep from shivering. I was dressed for a date, not a jog through a cemetery in late November. If I’d known that was in the cards, I would have at least worn a nice scarf. I felt ill, too: from the fear, from the loss of blood… and possibly from the fajita I’d had earlier for dinner.

“Why were you running?” Gordon looked confused. “I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

“Bite me,” I told him. He was so going to get charged with assault. I might even have to put a restraining order on his sorry ass. “Oh, wait a minute, you already did bite me, didn’t you… you psycho!”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re really going to have to get over that if this relationship is going to have half a chance.”

Gordon finally noticed that we weren’t alone. “Oh” was all he said as the men approached him. “Look, guys, this isn’t what it looks like.”

I glared at him and then tried to smile at “White-teeth.” He sure was cute. Maybe my night was turning out better than I’d thought. “Look, if you guys just want to help me find a cab, I’d really like to go home. Make sure he doesn’t come near me again, and I’ll owe you one.”

White-teeth smiled broadly. “Look what we have here, boys. Girlfriend and boyfriend vampire in a bit of a squabble.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I assured him.

“I’m not a vampire,” Gordon said quietly.

“That’s funny. He told me he was a vampire just a minute ago. That’s why he bit me.” I rubbed my neck tenderly. “He’s definitely crazy.”

“Yeah. Crazy,” White-teeth said before turning to his friends. “How many is this tonight?”

The stringy-haired guy piped up, “It’s been a great night. Maybe five? No, six.”

“Listen, guys”—Gordon looked scared to death— “we can work something out. I have money—”

White-teeth punched Gordon in the stomach. He clutched at his belly and fell to his knees, coughing and sputtering.

“Hey,” I said, frowning hard. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Look, all I want is for you guys to help me get home. That’s all.”

“Shut up,” White-teeth snapped at me. Gordon struggled to his feet, only to get punched again, this time in the jaw. That’s no way to treat a crazy person. They need supervision, not violence. I marched over to White-teeth and grabbed his arm. “That’s enough. There’s no reason to be such a big bully…”

He looked at me for a moment, then smiled. “Darlin‘, you need to learn your place.” He pushed me hard enough to make me fall backward, and I yelped in pain as my ankle twisted.

Something glinted in the hands of my so-called rescuers, catching the moonlight. Some kind of metal. Knives. “Stringy-hair” held a switchblade, and “Burly” had a small ax. I also noticed they had sharp wooden spikes tucked into loops on their belts. Then Gordon screamed. White-teeth was so close to him now that they seemed to be slow dancing, shuffling around in a partial circle. White-teeth moved back and I saw the handle of a knife sticking out of Gordon’s stomach.

“But I told you I had money,” he gasped.

White-teeth extended his hand like a doctor might, waiting for his next tool. A wooden spike was slapped down into it. I opened my mouth to say something, to stop this before it went too far, but the only sound that came out was a tiny squeak.

“But, vampire, this is so much more fun than money,” White-teeth said and arched his arm upward, slicing into Gordon’s torso.

I brought a hand to my mouth in stunned horror and scrambled backward on the ground. A bolt of pain went through my ankle as I tried and failed to get to my feet. My heart beat wildly. All three men joined in then, taking turns hacking and stabbing and slicing my date. They were so busy with Gordon that they appeared to have forgotten I was even there. I was beginning to think that was a good thing. Finally I was able to stand up unsteadily. But I felt frozen in place as I watched the straight-out-of-a-horror-movie scene before me. I’d changed my mind. Didn’t want their help anymore. Nope. And what had he said before? They’d deal with me in a moment? Gordon was no longer screaming or begging for his life. He’d stopped moaning. Stopped moving. In fact, he appeared to be disintegrating. The more they stabbed at his prone body, the less there seemed to be of him, until finally there was nothing but his empty clothes lying in the middle of a nasty dark stain on the road.