To Kiss a Killer | boyxman | (OLD VERSION)

Chapter II - The Slayer

Now all I had to do was break him the news that I hadn't taken anyone's life. The most fundamental part would be veiling the fact that I hadn't gone through with my target. He didn't need to know the whole story though. If he ever found out that I let a vampire fool me, and let him live, he'll treat my face to a knuckled fist. "I lost her," I said before anything could come from him.

Julius hadn't said anything either. He just stood before me and stayed with my eyes until a blink interrupted his daze. "How?" he said in his gruff tone, age and intimidation clear in the wheeze.

I mulled his tone over for a moment, wondering silently if he were upset. He didn't sound upset, but still he was a very complex and confusing person. He could be thinking one thing when you consider he's thinking something entirely different. "She was too—."

My words were cut short when Julius smacked me across the face; the slap making me wish I'd stayed out the whole night... or simply... came up with a better lie. "A Dalton never misses a kill, Raeden. You've been at it all week with these fiends and tonight you chose to slip up?"

"It's not like I can control her—."

"You can't control it..."

I started over with a sigh, "It's not like I can control its speed. It was too fast for me. I've been working up my status for six years, the youngest to ever start in this business. Is it that bad for me to mess up every now and again?"

"Why all of a sudden? You haven't screwed up in six years."

"I don't know," I shrugged, "Maybe I'm just tired."

Fumes blew from Julius' ears at my words, not only was I talking back to him, but I was challenging his temper. I wasn't intentionally trying to piss him off. "Tired," he said with a puzzled hum to his voice. "You're tired. I'm fifty six years old; don't you think I'd be a lot more tired than you? I'd give anything to be eighteen again." He snapped in the direction of the front door of the house, "Go run ten miles, don't come back until you're sweating your pours out."

My jaw hung open, "Are you serious? Come on, I just got home."

His remorseless hand came down on me again, and instead of talking back, I wiped the blood that surfaced from my lip, and headed for the door, brushing angrily past my brother Jackson's tallness when he made it home.

Not up for hearing anything he had to say, if anything about the missed kill, I picked up a steady jog (that was just about a full run) down the street, headed for the inner city. It was times like this where I wished my grandmother would rise from the dead and teach Julius a lesson. He'd never lay a hand on me if she were alive, or if my father were around.

Ensuing into city limits, I kept my eyes open for anything... one thing actually. Given that I was kicked out of my own house, and I was in fact getting tired, I certainly wasn't going to run ten insane miles. And it'd be alright because I'd be able to get away with it. Julius always left the house at about half past midnight. I wouldn't be done until two in the morning.

Idiot.

Slowing my jogging steps I came to a stop in front of a bench set before Lloyd's BBQ. The building was dark on the inside, and populated with turned over chairs set on top of round tables. I took a seat on the bench and leaned my head back, catching a yawn as I stared up at the night sky. The stars dispersed in the darkness eased my mind for a little while. Knocking every recollection about Julius from my mind, I selfishly thought of one person who I somehow liked keeping my thoughts busy. The vampire.

Or as Julius liked to call them: things, it. animals.

Anything inhuman would do.

I touched the strand of hair he'd caressed on my head, and touched my wrist from where he'd grasped me. Just remembering his face was enough. It was handsomely etched and sharp, yet his dark eyes were soft. He was pale but in a way I thought him very attractive. But extraordinarily I wanted more than just a memory. I wanted the real thing.