Chapter One
I have always loved the night. It has a seductive quality to it that is unmistakeable. The days are brash and uninteresting; full of boring people who do boring jobs they despise. But at night the interesting people come out and start to party. The days are about work but the nights are about having fun. It’s like the difference between a Monday morning and a Saturday night. No contest. That particular night I woke up slowly, I was warm and comfortable at first; I didn’t feel like moving except I started to feel a familiar hunger in my stomach which intensified quickly until it felt like I was being kicked in the gut.
I rolled over and got up. I showered quickly just to get clean. Sometimes I have long showers where I stand there for a while and just let the water roll over my flesh, it helps to remind me that I’m still part human but my hunger was so strong I was anxious to get outside quickly and feed. I shaved and brushed my hair because it’s easier to hunt if you look good. The clothes I didn’t bother too much about. I figured that as long as I looked halfway decent and didn’t smell bad I’d be in with a chance. I just pulled on T-shirt and jeans with a leather jacket on top. I’m no fashion plate; I can’t be bothered with all that. I know some people spend hours getting ready; I’m too lazy to put that much effort into something that doesn’t seem that important. My only thing when it comes to fashion is my cowboy boots. I always wear them. When I was a kid one of the nicer foster homes I was in used to let me watch TV a lot and I loved the westerns. The cowboys always seemed so heroic and brave; I wanted to be just like that. Fat chance. But that’s kid’s dreams for you.
Stepping outside there was a light drizzle falling making the sidewalk slippery and giving everything a shine like it had just been polished. Wet leaves clogged the gutters causing small rivers to gush and gurgle as the overflow looked for somewhere to escape. It was the kind of rain that soaked you through before you even really noticed it was falling. The city of New York shone like a wet neon diamond. I crossed town on the subway because you never hunt in your own back yard. Coming up into the cold air gave me goose bumps; either that or the thrill of the pursuit ahead, I wasn’t sure. I looked in the window of a bar and there were a bunch of good looking women sat at a table laughing and joking. They were like something out of Sex and the City. Five pretty girls lined up in a row. Perfect. I walked in.
I saw them checking me out as I walked up to the bar. I’m a good looking guy and I know it. It that makes me arrogant, so I’m arrogant. Sue me. I ordered a beer and stood at the bar pretending to drink it. The bartender was shaking some fancy drink up in a cocktail shaker and the ice cubes rattled like a skeleton’s bones. The bar was one of those places that people obviously go to be seen because it was wall to wall mirrors. It’s a good job the old legend about causing no reflection wasn’t true or I’d have been rumbled in two seconds flat. The excess of mirrors caused the interior of the bar to be reflected in the reflections creating a weird surreal feeling like everyone had come with a doppelganger. One of the women was looking at me and so I smiled back at her. She blushed and looked away and one of the others starting laughing and elbowing her in the ribs. She shook her head. A bunch of guys, four of them to be precise, walked in to the bar. The women smiled and waved at them. Shit. The women finished their drinks and pulled their coats on. I was about to give up and leave when I saw there was one still there only now she was on her own. The other bunch had left and she was sat there so I breezed over.
“Anyone sitting here?”
“Oh. No.” She blushed and smiled nervously. She was wearing flat shoes and glasses and she looked quite young. Not the best looker I’ve ever seen but not the worst either. The only trouble I have with all this pickup stuff is that I am absolutely hopeless at small talk. I sat there in silence looking at her and struggling to think of something to say and she sat there in silence looking at the table and fiddling with her napkin.
