Chapter Five: Thriller

I kept riding. I couldn't care less if Edward decided to storm the warehouse on his own or hobnob it back to Richie's place. I had other things to do; I had another lead to follow. Henri's information on this other lead had told me right where I could find him. I rode until I had reached the "bad side" of town. I then parked my motorcycle in an alleyway and started out on foot.

I could tell that the night air was cold, but it didn't bother me. The houses were close together, and the streets that ran by them were littered and dirty. It was quiet except for the occasional dog barking or the words of a drunken argument being carried on the air.

I stopped when I saw a dark lump of something on the ground. I picked it up and saw that it was a jacket; a cheap sort of jacket, made of black vinyl and faux fur around the collar. I put it on. It was perfect to hide my designer halter top. I walked a little further before I heard footsteps behind me. I pretended not to notice and kept walking. The sound of his accelerated heart beat sending the blood coursing through his veins made me smile.

Finally, he came up behind me and stuck the point of a knife to my back. "Don't scream," he commanded in a shaky whisper. "Go into that alleyway and I won't hurt you." I did as he said and walked into a deserted alleyway off of the main road. He held me in what I'm sure he thought was a tight grip. When we reached a large dumpster, he stopped me. "Alright honey," he said, "here's good."

At this point, I finally spoke to him. "I'll give you three seconds to let me go to save your life," I said calmly. I heard him chuckle. He obviously didn't believe me. "One," I began counting. He led me behind the dumpster. "Two," I continued as he tried to force me to the ground. "Three," I said as I spun around, easily overpowering his grip. I held him in front of me with my hands around his neck. He looked at me in horror as he tried, desperately, to free himself from my super-human grasp.

"What…" he tried to talk as I squeezed his windpipe, "… is… happening…"

I brought his face closer to mine and he shook in seeing the beautiful and terrible creature that I was. "You're dying," I whispered harshly.

"You're a…" he managed to say, "… a monster."

I laughed aloud which made him tremble more, as his body was shaking violently. I looked straight into his eyes and said, "No. I'm no monster. You're the monster." I didn't make death easy for him. I didn't break his neck to make it quick. I fed from the vein in his neck so he could feel the pain, until I felt him go entirely limp in my hands. I dropped him and walked away without another thought. It would be another unsolved murder for the NYPD; though I hoped that they wouldn't spend much time on it, seeing as how he got what he deserved.

Fully refreshed, I went back out onto the street. I had only walked a short distance when I saw someone; two someone's actually. There were two men; one of them looked young, and was sitting on the ground, propped up against a building, unconscious. The other was bent over him, drinking blood from the unconscious boy's wrist. A vampire.

I approached them. The vampire stopped and looked up quickly when he heard me. His startled look turned into a grin. "Oh," he said. "For a minute there, I thought you were human, from you scent. He looked at me up and down, smiled bigger, and then gestured to the young man he was feeding on. "Would you care to join me?" he asked.

"No thanks," I replied coolly. "I don't like my blood tainted with drugs." He shrugged and lifted the arm back to his lips. "Hey," I said, and he stopped. "You should leave."

"Yeah right," he began.

"Scram!" I shouted, and he scurried off, leaving the boy. I looked at him and his punctured wrist. This is how the low-life's fed. They would find the humans that had passed out and feed on them. And most of the vampires weren't kind enough or smart enough to leave you with any blood after they were done.

I crouched down next to the still unconscious young man. I dug through his pockets and found his wallet. There was no cash in it; either another passerby had cleaned him out, or he had spent it on his last hit. I found his ID next; from the looks of him and his address, I guessed he was new to this pastime. Idiot—to throw a good life away. I replaced the wallet in his pocket.

I picked him up and carried him easily, though he was a few inches taller and a good deal heavier than I was. I brought him to the main road and hailed the lone taxi that passed. The driver looked at me strangely as I placed the unconscious boy in his back seat. I gave the driver the address on the boy's ID. Then I handed him a wad of my own money. "The extra is for taking him up to the door," I told him.

Once the driver had contained the grin on his face—no doubt brought on by my generosity—he regarded me warily. "Are you sure you don't want a ride too, Miss?" he asked. "This place really isn't the best kind of place for young ladies to be alone."

"No thank you," I said with finality. The driver gave me one last "you're crazy" look, shrugged, and sped off after I had shut the car door.