Braced to Bite (Book 1: Half-blood vampire series)

Chapter Eight

Instead of arguing, I surprised myself and him by obeying without question, glad someone who knew what to do was in charge and grateful he understood my need and at the same time my squeamishness.

“I’m going to leave you alone on this bench and send you someone. They will allow you to feed and then you will leave them. Do you understand?”

     I nodded slowly, warring with myself over “feeding” in general. It seemed so wrong, depraved and vicious but I knew from experience it didn’t need to be any of those things. In the end it came down to survival.

     A few minutes later a woman in her early twenties came to sit down next to me. She was in some sort of trance and I was sure she was under Thomas’s vampire mojo spell.

     Did he believe for a minute I was going to feed on a woman? What made him think I was going to act out his warped vampire fantasy? I told the girl to go home. She stood up abruptly and continued walking down the path. Suddenly, two guys stepped out of the shadows in front of her. I jumped up when I realized she wasn’t aware of them since she was still operating under orders and not thinking for herself.

     “Let her pash,” I said, surprising them with my stealth.

     “Why should we?” one sneered, his tattooed neck exposed by his sweatshirt.

     “Becaush you can play with me inshtead.” Oh, ya had to love the intimidating lisp I had going.

     By this time their original victim was farther up the path. She was still on her way home, not letting anything prevent her from that task.

Both men looked at me in shock. Then they looked at each other when I sighed heavily.

     “Guysh, I don’t haff all night.”

     “What are you wearing?” one of them asked.

     “Headgear.”

     “Like braces? Is that why you talk so funny?”

     “Kinda like brashesh but more for eating. And I don’t talk funny.”

     “Weird,” he said, coming closer for a better look.

     I took offense to the weird comment—hey, it wasn’t my fault I was fang handicapped—and grabbed him by the collar, lifting him up slightly. He was pretty tall so I couldn’t lift him much, but it certainly got his attention.

     “Wanna go in the shadowsh for a little bite to eat?” I asked softly, my steel fangs flashing when I spoke.

     The guy widened his eyes and tried to speak but I softly shushed him. Then I looked over my shoulder at his buddy who was still in shock seeing me hold up his 200-pound friend.

     “You wait here quietly. Don’t bother anyone elsh.” He nodded his head in agreement, very slowly. I let his buddy down and ordered him to take a few steps back into the shadows.

     Once I had my willing victim standing obediently in the shadows with his buddy playing lookout, I was at a loss on how to continue. After all, every vampire movie I ever saw represented nightstalkers in a ruthless, cruel way, toying with their prey, and then devouring them with relish.

     In reality, it was a fairly unexciting yet necessary transaction, much like going to the cash machine. I would get sustenance and he would lose a cup of blood, none the wiser. Seemed almost anticlimactic.

     I told him to look to the side and show me his neck. He obeyed instantly. I went on tiptoe, barely able to reach, and giggled. Then I giggled some more. My giggling turned into full-fledged hysterical laughter. It must have been the most ridiculous sight to any passerby. A tiny blonde vampire with headgear standing on tiptoes to reach her linebacker prey who was docilely baring his neck to be dinner.