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A.N Oh, I forgot to say this:
Steve Leopard and all related characters are © Darren Shan.
Mwuaha! Thanks for reading! .
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'The Latest Scar Murder Foiled!
Boy's Little Sister Saviour The Day!
Last night, at approximately 1:30pm, Kenny Brookes was attacked by our city's 'local' serial murderer, only to be saved by his little sister's screams. Her screaming alerted her parents, who rushed into the room in time to see the killer jump out the window and sprint away. They then notified the police, who were at the scene almost immediately.
The authorities have a man in custody and are currently interrogating him over the matter. No one was available –'
I glared down at the newspaper article in front of me. Then I shoved it in the nearest bin, giving the bin a kick for good measure, making several mothers around me gasp and quickly pull their children far away, sending me terrified looks. I pulled a face at their retreating backs. I think I distinctly heard one of them say something like 'Teenagers are getting wilder every year…'
Yes, I was in scaring-little-children mood. Who wouldn't, after having spent six hours in a cold police station answering the same questions over and over again?
"Why were you in the area at the time?"
"I was taking a walk."
"Why did you chase after the man?"
"I just wanted to help."
"Did you see his face?"
"No."
"Did you hear him speak at all?"
"No."
"From the samples we have from your jumper, you had two people's blood on yourself – yours and someone else's. Who was this other person?"
By this time I was really getting pissed off: "My girlfriend. Do you want to know where that blood came from, too?"
"Er… no, that won't be necessary…"
And so, when they were finally convinced I had nothing to do with the attempted murder, they released me, dropping me off at the motel I was staying.
"Stay out of trouble, kid," the driver said as he drove off. I muttered something rude under my breath and went to have a shower, buy a newspaper, and get some lunch.
Shower, check, newspaper, check, lunch – walking to now.
Feeling I needed to treat myself, I walked to the closest fast food store I could find and quickly stood in line. Around me, people chatted on about their normal, average lives – a mum shouting at her two kids to behave, a girl and a guy necking at another table, a group of businessmen on a break. Up ahead, I could hear the woman in front of me talking with the guy behind the counter.
"Rough night again, Perri? You look like crap," he said. She laughed.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that." She answered. My ears perked, and I frowned, inspecting the back of the woman's head. Her hair was short and choppy, spiked every-which-way and dyed black, blue and grey, and she wore a black hooded jacket. The guy handed her a paper bag.
"There you go, that's one quarter-pounder, large chips, and large coke – anything else? Apple pie, maybe? Or maybe three?"
"Ah, shut it, Jay, you know I'm on a diet," she laughed, turning around and walking passed me. I watched her walk off, frowning. There was something, I didn't know what, but there was something about her that was familiar…
Then it hit me.
It was her accent. It wasn't European – the words were drawn out, making everything seem real slow and laid back…
"Uh, sir? You going to order now?" Jay, the server behind me asked, but I didn't notice. The woman had just stepped outside, and was turning down the street.
"Sir?"
"I'll come back later!" I called, and swept out of the store, almost knocking a few kids over in my rush to get to the door. I burst outside, and set off at a run after her. I could just see her blue-black-silver head bobbing along among the crowded pathway, crossing a street several hundred metres ahead.
I pushed through the crowd, slowly progressing toward her, my eyes never leaving that multi-coloured head of hair. At one point, I saw her turn her head slightly to the left, giving me a view of the light side of her face – a long, intricate black tattoo was there, starting as what looked like a bird at her temple and sprouting down her cheek and up onto her forehead. As soon as I saw it, I knew.
It was her. The hunter from last night.
After what seemed like ages, she turned a corner, and the crowd began to thin away to nothing. I quickly turned the corner too – but there was nothing but a long, empty street, houses lining the sides. I cursed, then shook my head, and began walking down. Beside me was the large brick wall of the shop that had been on the corner. It had little niches – niches that people could hide in. Too bad I only realised that after the hand shot out and grabbed my around the collar of my shirt.
"You're following me."
Before I could answer, she had stepped out of her little hiding spot and pushed me against the wall with one hand, making my head crack painfully against the brick. I grabbed at her hand, trying to pull it away, but for someone of her size – several inches short than me – she had a surprising amount of strength. Her unremarkable kohl-outlined grey eyes narrowed, and she leaned closer. Her face was unusual – not pretty, yet not ugly, either. A small, thin nose, tanned skin, small but pouted red lips all combined to make an… interesting face.
"I don't like being followed."
She leaned closer still, her eyes narrowing further as her hand around my neck tightened. I gasped for air. She was so close that I could see the faint freckles splattered across her nose.
"You're-you're the hunter from last night!" I managed to gasp. She frowned, loosening her grip slightly. I saw a flash of realisation in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared.
"And if I am?"
"Teach me!"
She dropped her hand, taking a step back. I spluttered, and massaged my neck – hey, your neck would be sore too, if two people with very strong grips had taken it upon themselves to crush it.
"So that's what you were trying to do last night."
I nodded numbly. She smirked.
"Yeah, well, that was the most pathetic performance I've seen in a long time, kid," she said, and turned away.
"Hey, wait!" I called, taking a step after her. She kept walking.
"You'll only slow me down, kid. You haven't got it in you to hunt the vamps."
I stood there, glowering at her retreating back, my fists clenching and unclenching along with my jaw.
"What does it take?" I called after her. She paused, turning her head slightly. "What does it take to make you teach me?"
The hunter turned around, still smirking.
"You Irish boys sure are persistent, aren't you?" I glared at her, and she shrugged, dropping her paper bag onto the ground. "All right. If you can beat me in a fight, I'll take you on as an… assistant, I guess."
I nodded, bunching my hand into a fist. Then I launched myself at her, throwing my fist toward her jaw. I didn't see what she did – it was a slight step to the side, one hand lightly pushing my hand away while bringing her opposite knee up to my stomach. Winded, I gasped, doubling over in pain. She stepped away, shaking her head.
"You've got the power, but vamps can take even the hardest punch. You need to be faster, kid," she told me lightly. Glaring through my hair, which had fallen from its ponytail, I straightened slowly and began to circle her. She watched me, plainly bored.
I jumped at her again, this time aiming at her stomach. She blocked somehow, stepping out, and pulled my arm sharply behind my back.
"Too slow, kid." She said softly next to my ear. Then she planted her foot into my back and sent me sprawling into the ground. Tsking, she stepped up behind me – that's when I lashed out with my feet, sweeping her legs from beneath her. She fell and I jumped up and placed my foot on her throat. She rose an eyebrow.
"Better."
Then she reached up and grabbed my foot, twisting it so that my body followed. Losing my balance, I slipt and fell down, spluttering. She stood back up again and rolled me over with her foot, smirking.
"You're okay, I'll give you that much. But still, you're not good enough. You'd be dead if I were a vamp." With that, she turned around, picked up her paper bag, and began walking away again. Spitting onto the ground, I stood back up, wincing.
"Wait!" I called after her. She turned around, walking backwards.
"What now?" She called back.
"What's your name?"
She stopped, and grinned.
"It's Perri. Peregrine Walters. You?"
"Steve Leopard. I mean Leonard."
Her grin spread further.
"We both have animal names, then. Hooroo." She turned around and began walking again.
"Hey, where are you from?" I called out one last time.
"Australia!" She called over her shoulder – and then she was gone.
I sighed, and leaned against the wall behind me. So. I had an Australian vampire hunter named after a bird to track down – and she wouldn't take me on unless I could beat her in a fight.
Boy. My stars sure were lucky.
