Josie left the alley a few minutes later, retracing her steps to rejoin the lights, hustle, and noise of the business district. It was like walking into another world, one where Josie didn’t have to think about handsome, mysterious Guardians, or vampires, or anything else. She moved among the throng of bar hoppers, smelling the sweat on their skin, the spray of cologne, cigarette and weed smoke and beer.

  Ah, the sweet perfume of youth.

  There was a moving crowd outside of Cups & Coins, people coming and going, milling back and forth as they smoked in front of the club and chatted to their friends. Josie wove through them and slipped inside.

  There was no live band tonight, just a playlist, currently blaring grunge through every room. Josie looked around – it was as dark as you’d expect a nightclub to be, made darker by wood paneled and industrial accents – pipes that striped the ceiling, chunky light fixtures, mostly turned off. Strings of fairy lights dripped down the walls, and there was a mix of tall, standing tables, and shorter tables with chairs gathered around them. Upstairs, a dark walkway circled the room, with bars separating the top floor from the bottom. From what Josie could tell, the upstairs was for those seeking a more subdued atmosphere; it was even darker up there, with vinyl booths and small, round tables sequestered in the shadows.

  Josie eased through the crowd of dancing bodies and into the next room, where an empty stage dominated the room, and a long, wooden bar took up most of the far left wall. Behind the bar, shelves holding bottles full of amber and clear liquid seemed to glimmer even in the faint light. Away from the dance floor, this part of the club was a little quieter – though not by much.

  Standing at the bar, Josie recognised a familiar head of bright red hair, and a tall, lanky body wrapped in a tie dye t-shirt. She smiled, weaving her way towards the two, and then popped up on Andrew’s other side.

  “Hey!” Josie chirped.

  “Josie!” called Calliope, “Hi!”

  “We meet again, stranger,” joked Andrew. “Buy you a drink?”

  Josie grinned up at him, “Sure! Please!” She peered down the bar at the clear glass in Calliope’s hand. “What’s good here?”

  “Oh, I don’t know!” said Calliope, “I don’t drink – this is a sprite.”

  “Uhh,” said Josie, “Rum and coke?”

  Andrew ordered – a beer for himself, a rum and coke for Josie, and a plate of french fries that he started eating before they’d even sat down at one of the small, round tables in the back of the room.

  “So,” said Josie, taking a quick sip of her drink. “Not to sound cliche or anything, but do you guys come here a lot?”

  “Kind of,” said Andrew, shrugging, stuffing a handful of fries into his mouth. The salt made his lips glisten.

  Calliope rolled her eyes, shoving a napkin in his direction as she answered Josie, “There’s usually live performances and stuff, and it’s the only nightclub in this part of the city, so a lot of Sunsweet Community heads here on the weekends.”

  The song changed. Donna Summers. Josie grinned at the total randomness of it. Lights from some of the overhead fixtures soared over the room, throwing glowing circles and stars across Josie’s face.

  “Ugh,” said Andrew, “Disco.” He gobbled a few more fries, then stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Bathroom,” he explained, pointing over his shoulder before heading off.

  Calliope watched Andrew disappear into the crowd, a wistful look on her face, her eyes soft, and Josie watched Calliope, a faint smile tugging at her own lips. “Is he your boyfriend?”

  “What!?”

  Calliope laughed, a little too loudly, confirming Josie’s secondary guess: unrequited crush.

  “No, we’ve known each other our whole life. I, uhm…” She twisted her napkin around in her hands, “I don’t date. Not by choice but…” Her green eyes blinked up, latching onto Josie’s face, a faint blush coloring her pale cheeks. “I just don’t.”

  “Oh,” said Josie, curiously cocking her head to one side. “How come? You’re totally cute.” She punctuated this statement with a sip of her alcohol infused soda.

  Calliope’s blush climbed up her face and stained the tips of her ears. “Not really,” she mumbled, looking down at the table. “Boys think I’m weird. Or awkward. Or some combination of the two.” She chuckled in that way that people did, when nothing was funny but they were trying to be cool about it, and when she looked at Josie, she was wearing a smile that matched. “I am weird, so that’s okay.” She shrugged, her gaze lifting over Josie’s shoulder. “I think guys like something I just don’t bring to the table, that’s all.”

  Josie twisted a little, to see what her friend was looking at, and found it immediately: Libby, her olive skin seeming to glisten in the roaming lights, wearing a slinky gold dress that hugged her body, her long, dark hair rippling as she tossed her head. Josie had to admit – the girl was beautiful, and she clearly knew it.

  “The only difference between you and Libby,” said Josie after twisting back around to face Calliope, “Is that she’s pretty and she knows it, and you’re pretty and you don’t.”

  Calliope didn’t say anything, so Josie took another sip and then changed direction. “You should tell Andrew you like him.”

  Calliope nearly spat out the drink she was taking, spluttering as she wiped soda off her mouth. “I–I don’t–” at the deadpan look on Josie’s face, she looked away, finally admitting, “I couldn’t. We’ve been best friends since before kindergarten. It would change everything.”

  “Change isn’t always bad,” Josie replied. She thought of the hot, mysterious stranger from the alleyway, his cryptic words of warning.

  “The way I see it is this: you could die at any moment, so you should make the best of what you’ve got when you’ve got it.”

  As she said this, her gaze searched the crowd, pulled by some instinct, and she found herself staring at the back of a head that was growing all too familiar.

  The Guardian from the library. Her gaze tracked him as he ordered a beer, unsurprised when he turned to look at her, meeting her eyes from across the room.

  Josie’s jaw clenched.

  “You don’t seem very shy,” said Calliope.

  “I guess I’m not,” Josie answered distractedly.

  She pushed back her chair, her eyes on the Guardian as he slipped through the room and headed for one of the staircases that led to the second floor.

  “I’ll be right back,” said Josie, and she didn’t wait for a response before following the older man.

  Josie’s boots would have been loud on the metal stairs if the happy sounds of Donna Summers weren’t still blaring cheerfully, seemingly from every direction. The Guardian was not hard to find – there was no one else occupying the space, which was scarcely more than a wide balcony with a few tables and booths scattered in the shadows.

  The older man was nursing a beer, his stern focus on the thriving crowd down below, a sea of bodies that writhed and bounced to the music.

  “This place,” he said, as Josie came to stand beside him, her jaw hard and ticking, “is a hotbed of vampire activity.”

  “Uh-huh,” said Josie with what she hoped was clear disinterest.

  “You were drawn here, same as I,” said the man. “Why do you do everything to deny your destiny and what is right?”

  Josie snorted. “Actually, I came here to have a drink and dance. Maybe get stupid wasted.” Although the last part of that plan had been foiled by the mysterious, dark haired stranger she’d met earlier. His words still throbbed uncomfortably in the back of her head. She leaned over the rails of the balcony, not looking at him. “I feel like I should know your name, since you insist on following me around.”

  “I didn’t follow you – Joseph Ramsay is my name, and I am to be your Guardian – I didn’t follow you, Ms. Powers, but I have a feeling you would be here.”

  “Well, Joseph–”

  “Ramsay,” he corrected.

  “Okay, Ramsay – I don’t need a Guardian. I’m good. So… Can I go back to my friends now?”

  The Guardian – Ramsay – sighed deeply, turning to her. “Ms Powers–”

  “Josie,” she corrected. “Ms. Powers is my mother,” she joked, deadpan.

  “Josie, then–” He went on, ignoring her attempt at humor, his expression serious and uncracking. “I have to make you understand–”

  “That evil is coming and demons will be walking among us,” Josie rolled her eyes, “I know, your friend told me. You guys really aren’t much for the subtle, huh?”

  Ramsay blinked, his forehead creasing. “My…what?

  “Your friend. You know–” She waved her hand, rolling her wrist in a vague gesture. “Tall, pale, and cryptic? The other Guardian the Guild sent after me. He’s kind of a dick, by the way. You should tell him that.”

  “Hm.” Frowning, Ramsay turned back to the balcony. “I wasn’t aware the Guild sent anyone else… What else did he say?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual. Hell is cracking open and all the demons are here, or whatever. Blah, blah, blah.”

  The song changed. Good Charlotte. A cheer went through the crowd, and Josie saw Libby detach herself and head towards the bathrooms at the end of the room.

  “Is your resistance…” Ramsay paused, and Josie turned a curious eye on him. “Does your reluctance to your mission have to do with the fate of your last Guardian?”

  Immediately, Josie tensed, looking away. She didn’t want to think about that – his screams had haunted her nightmares for months after. She didn’t think lying would do any good either, though, as her expression had already given her away.

  “I’m just…” She kicked the bar of the balcony gently, the toe of her boot bumping off the metal. “I’m just not cut out to be a Blade, alright? And even if I were – I don’t want to be.” She felt like a broken record at this point, one that no one seemed to be in any hurry to turn off.

  Ramsay looked at her, and Josie refused to meet his eye. She didn’t want to see anything like sympathy on his face.

  After a moment, he said, “You don’t understand your true power.”

  Josie’s fists curled under the fold of her arms, lips thinning. Her Guardian had said that to her once, too.

  You don’t understand your true power. You are a blade to be sharpened and honed.

  “I’m nobody’s weapon,” said Josie softly.

  “That’s not what I meant.” Ramsay looked at her again, his tone gentle, as he gestured to the crowd. “Look at them all. A Blade should be able to find a vampire in a crowd of this magnitude within minutes – seconds, even. She might sense an Otherlander in the room without even looking.”

  “It’s not like I’ve never killed an Otherlander before,” Josie replied with a scowl.

  “Exactly.”

  Josie turned to him, an incredulous look dropping her jaw. His grin was so smug, and she couldn’t find it within herself to be angry. He’d got her – fair and square.

  “Whatever. Look – there’s a difference between killing an Otherlander and being good at keeping people safe. I’m okay at the killing part, not so much the other thing.”

  She could feel him building his response to that, but before she could tell him to save it, something in the crowd caught her eye.

  A bright splash of tie dye t-shirt, a head of unruly, curly brown hair, taller than all the rest. And beside him was undoubtedly a vampire; the hair on the back of Josie’s arms lifted, and a chill threaded down her spine.

  She reached out, gripping Ramsay’s forearm, her nails digging into the material of his hooded sweatshirt. “There’s at least one vampire here tonight,” she murmured, nodding with her chin at Andrew and the human-looking creature standing beside him.

  To the untrained eye, the guy Andrew was talking to just looked like some beach hippie; wide pants, a bohemian vest over a bare chest, a head of chestnut dreads, and some leather bracelets that moved with his hands. But Josie knew.

  “You’re sure?” asked Ramsay, even as Josie turned away from him, heading for the same set of stairs she’d taken to get up to the balcony.

  She heard him padding after her, felt the thud of his sneakers on the metal steps. Once they were downstairs, Josie looked around, craning her neck, but Andrew, and the vampire, were nowhere in sight. She’d lost them in the crowd.

  “Shit!”

  “We’ll find them,” said Ramsay.

  Josie ignored him, pushing through the throng of dancers, walking as fast as she dared – not wanting to attract unwanted attention – back towards the table she’d been sharing with Andrew and Calliope.

  Calliope was sitting alone. Andrew’s plate of fries sat cold and abandoned beside his beer.

  “Did Andrew ever come back?” Josie asked, schooling her tone into one of casual interest.

  Calliope shook her head, her curious gaze darting to Ramsay, who stood behind Josie’s shoulder. “You’re the librarian, aren’t you? Is…” Her gaze sought Josie once more, a note of concern swimming in the pool of bright green. “Is everything okay?”

  “Uhm… Yeah, everything’s fine.” Josie shared a grim look with Ramsay, and then turned, without warning, and headed back the way they’d come, toward the bathrooms, where a secondary exit that she hadn’t noticed before stood open to an adjoining alleyway.

  Josie poked her head out into the alley, but the only person back there was a big armed security guard in a muscle tank, stomping out a cigarette as he lit another. He caught her looking and asked around the smoke, “Everything okay?”

  “Uh…” Josie slipped outside, Ramsay just behind her. “Did you see a tall guy pass through here? Curly hair, tie dye t-shirt?”

  “The stoner kids? Yeah.”

  He took a drag of his cigarette at the same time as Calliope darted out to join them. Josie shot her a thin look, but didn’t bother telling her to go back inside.

  “Did you see where they went?”

  “He and the white kid with the dreads went to the cemetery. At least, that’s what I heard ‘em talking about.”

  Of course.

  “Thanks,” said Josie as she stormed past the security guard and out onto the street.

  Ramsay and Calliope followed. Ramsay was saying, “Young lady, you should really be getting home now. It’s getting late, and it’s dangerous out–”

  “I’m not going anywhere, mister,” Calliope interrupted, glaring.

  Josie was a little impressed.

  “If something’s wrong with Andrew, I’m going to help.”

  If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  Ramsay shot Josie an imploring look. Part of the rules of their shared secret identities was that mortals were not to know of the existence of Otherlanders and the world that ran alongside their own. They were to be shielded at all costs. But Josie didn’t have the energy to lie to Calliope, to force her away, and she didn’t even know how. At that moment, all of her focus was on finding Andrew before he became some vampire’s lunch.

  Josie ignored them both, speed walking to the cross walk. She didn’t even care when she heard them jogging to catch up, even as Ramsay continued to implore Calliope to go home.

  “I don’t understand,” gasped Calliope as she hurried across the street on Josie’s heels. “What’s wrong with Andrew?”

  “He…” Josie thought of a convincing lie, but nothing would come to her. How could she explain that he was in danger? Then something the security guard had said flashed through her memory.

  The stoner kids.

  “I saw him leaving with some shady guy,” said Josie quickly. “I’m just worried.”

  “Oh…” Calliope frowned. “He usually buys his marijuana off the same person like, every time… That’s weird. We better hurry.”

  Relief coursed through her. She shot Ramsay a look, but his only response was a flat, unimpressed glare.

  “Should I call the police?” asked Calliope.

  “No!” Josie and Ramsay shouted at the same time.

  “But you should definitely walk a little faster if you’re tagging along,” said Josie, and she put on a burst of speed.

  Please be alive when I get there, she thought, practically running through the warm darkness, please.

  ***

  Luke smiled at the girl sitting at the bar and was delighted when she smiled back. She was astonishingly beautiful; a face like a porcelain doll, black eyes that shone and glimmered when she laughed.

  “What did you say your name was?” asked Luke, even though he knew he hadn’t asked yet.

  Her smile widened, making his heart race. Her mouth was perfect; small and round and pink as a rosebud. She tucked her white hair behind her ears and said in a voice that managed to be both soft and raspy, “Dreya. Dreya Darby.”

  “You’re not from here, are you?” asked Luke, the corner of his mouth curving up before he took a pull from his beer. He’d offered to buy her a drink, but she’d already had one – a glass of red wine that she hadn’t touched since he’d sat down beside her.

  “No,” she giggled, “I’m just visiting some family. You’ll probably see some of them around later!”

  “If they’re anything like you,” said Luke, “I’m looking forward to it.”

  The girl laughed and laughed, and Luke laughed along with her, though he didn’t get the joke.

  ***

  Deep underground, the Oldest lounged against one of the earthen walls. His throat was dry, his eyes dryer, and there was a restlessness in his bones, made worse by the fact that he could do nothing to ease it.

  “Master…”

  A vampire dropped onto one knee before him. He was a big bastard, with gigantic broad shoulders and a barrel chest, his face a patchwork of gnarled skin, the folds of which nearly obscured the glare of his olive green eyes.

  The Oldest sighed through his flat lips. “I am weak,” he admitted, a curl of distaste to his mouth. “I can feel the magic in the atmosphere, Michaelangelo, and I crave it. I need it to fill me, to restore my strength.”

  He had been trapped for so long, and now, finally, a chance to escape. A chance to be free. He had all but forgotten what freedom tasted like.

  “I will serve you in all ways, Master,” said the vampire.

  “We must cull the human realm and restore my great power, so that I might break out of this prison and claim this realm as my own, finally and at last.”

  “Soon, master,” promised the vampire, “So very soon.”

  ***

  The cemetery was dark this time of night, the few lampposts that lined the walk blinking or else entirely dark. Andrew patted his pockets for a lighter, wishing he’d brought a flannel as the temperature began to sink.

  “Here,” said the dealer. He held a lighter between them, his thumb conjuring a small, bright flame.

  “Oh, dude, thanks.” Andrew leaned in, a joint between his lips. But before he could catch the end of it on fire, the dealer pulled away.

  Andrew looked up, brows lifting in question.

  “There’s been a lot of cops patrolling around here,” he said, nodding sideways towards the open door of a crypt. “C’mon, we don’t wanna get caught.”

  Andrew hesitated, watching as the man with the dreads slipped into the shadows and disappeared into the crypt.

  “You coming?” called the dealer, his voice disembodied, echoing around the stone.

  Didn’t my ma teach me not to follow strangers into strange places? Andrew thought, amused with himself as he loped to follow.

  The inside of the crypt was dark and dank. Weeds grew through the cracks in the ground, and part of the ceiling was a little smashed in, allowing a piercing ray of moonlight to spill across the ground and light up the toes of the man’s sneakers.

  “Uh…” Andrew made a show of circling his gaze around the room. “Nice and cozy, eh?”

  A click of a lighter. Andrew turned around, drawn to the flame like a moth to a lightbulb. He leaned in again, ready to light his joint, but the flame disappeared for the second time, and Andrew shot the stranger a slightly irked look, “Uh? Do cops patrol here, too?”

  But the stranger only smiled, as if he were amused by Andrew’s frustration. There was an oddness to his smile that Andrew didn’t like, but then again, he didn’t really know the guy, did he?

  “Sorry, slipped,” said the man. “Here…” He walked closer, closer, close enough for Andrew to smell him now – unwashed skin, some kind of incense, a mysterious metallic undercurrent. He gripped the lighter in his fist and made no move to light it. Instead, with his free hand, he stroked the back of his finger down the side of Andrew’s face.

  Andrew shivered, batting his hand away out of reflex as he took a step back. “Woah, uh, not that I’m not flattered, but–”

  “I was only kidding,” said the man, flashing that odd smile again. “Here.” He tossed the lighter in the air.

  Andrew caught it, flicked the tab, lit the end, inhaled once. Unease shimmied through him, but he ignored it, allowed the pot haze and warmth to push the feelings away.

  “Nice,” said Andrew, breathing out a long, smoky exhale. “Yeah. How much do I owe ya?”

  The man plucked the joint out of his fingers and, meeting Andrew’s gaze, took a long, slow drag.

  “It’s free,” he said, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “If you suck my dick.”

  Andrew’s face darkened. “That’s not fucking funny.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said a soft, raspy voice. “I thought it was pretty funny.”

  A woman stood in the doorway, her dark eyes shining. She was very pretty, but there was a wrongness around her eyes that made Andrew’s skin prickle. Her fathomless gaze looked him over, and her expression turned unimpressed when she turned her focus to the dealer.

  “Is this all that you’ve brought?”

  “He is fresh and young,” answered the man with the dreads. He took a long drag from the joint he’d taken from Andrew and reached for him again, his eyes flashing with humor. “Soft and supple…”

  Andrew jerked away, taking a step back, and the man laughed and laughed, and then turned to the pale haired girl and asked, “And what did you bring?”

  The unease that Andrew had banished returned, settling slimy in his belly and directing him to dart a look at the only exit he could see – the doorway, which the woman was blocking.

  She snapped her fingers, and someone came stumbling into the room, a hand pressed to their neck. It took Andrew a moment to recognize Luke, and when he did, his unease blossomed into fear.

  Luke’s face was drawn and pale, even as he stumbled over to Andrew’s side with a dopey smile on his face. “Andrew… Dude… She gave me a hickey.” He hiccupped a laugh, and then his gaze swivelled over to the dealer and he lifted his eyebrows. “Oh… Man, I didn’t know you were gay.”

  Andrew looped an arm around Luke’s waist. “Luke, what did they do to you, man!?”

  But Luke only stared at him, his eyes blank, his hand clasped to the side of his neck. And then he crumpled, falling to the ground in an unconscious heap.

  “What did you assholes do to my friend!?” Andrew shouted, dropping down next to Luke’s body to feel for his pulse. It still beat, a just-barely-there flutter against his fingers, but his skin was cool, and blood stained one side of his neck.

  The pale haired woman and the man laughed, and Andrew looked at the door again, knowing he could run, could barrel his way through her and to safety. But… He couldn’t just leave Luke.

  Standing, Andrew was forced to take a step back as the man with the joint came towards him, his stalking steps slow and measured. He tossed the joint to the side and it became a vague button of light in the shadows before winking out entirely. The woman followed close behind, both of them advancing until Andrew’s back hit the opposite wall.

  “What are you?” He hissed.

  “Ooooh! Did you hear that?” The girl turned to her companion, a giddy look to the set of her smile. “He said ‘what’!”

  “Do you want us to show you, man?” said the man with the dreads. “Do you want to see before you die?”

  Andrew’s heart pounded against his ribs. Was he really about to get murdered in a cemetery of all places?

  Their eyes shone in the dark, flashing like a cats. How had he not noticed before? His mind cast back to the strange conversation he’d overheard in the library, but he refused to give in to superstition. Vampires and demons weren’t real. They weren’t real.

  But even as he repeated this thought like a mantra, the two before him changed. Their faces became twisted, gnarled masks. Thick ropes of skin made nests around their eyes, bracketed their too-wide mouths, widened their noses like gigantic bats.

  Andrew flattened himself against the wall, his eyes wide, his heart thrashing with the fear of the hunted, even as disbelief tried to coat his mind in comforting denial.

  “What the fuck are you!?”

  “Ooooh, precious,” cooed the woman, “We’re vampires!”

  And then she launched herself at him.

  ***

  “Well, well, well…”

  The voice stopped the woman in her tracks. Calliope scrambled backwards as she tried to place the familiarity, but it wasn’t until Josie Powers appeared, Andrew just behind her, that she knew who had interrupted her would be murder.

  ***

  Josie and company had arrived at the cemetery near Cups & Coins in time to see a short, pale haired woman slipping into the open door of a crypt, a boy hanging on her heels.

  “That’s Luke!” Calliope hissed urgently.

  So it was. Josie had only met him once, and hadn’t recognized him.

  “I’m going in,” Josie spoke to Ramsay as she fished a stake out of her purse. After a pause, she took out the necklace the other Guardian had given her, too, working it on one handed and then tucking the heavy protective symbol between her breasts – just in case.

  “What’s that?” asked Calliope.

  Josie ignored her, telling Ramsay, “You understand what to do?”

  Ramsay gave a single nod, a gesture Josie returned before squaring her shoulders and marching across the short grass.

  “I don’t understand,” she heard Calliope’s voice, growing distant behind her. “What’s really going on here? What’s that in Josie’s hand? Why–”

  She’d have to worry about that later. Taking a deep breath, Josie lifted her chin and sauntered into the crypt.

  The vampire she’d seen leading Andrew away was there, as well as another vampire – the short blonde woman Josie had seen leading Luke, who’d been in the process of attacking Andrew, but stopped with her hand around his throat when she heard Josie’s footsteps.

  “Andrew!” Josie exclaimed, placing a bright smile on her face. “Who’re your friends!?”

  The blonde let Andrew go, her lip curling. She was in full Dark Form – the demonic form a vampire took, usually before feeding or when injured, to conserve their energy and make them faster and stronger. To her right, the man with the dreads had transformed as well.

  “Who are you?” the blonde demanded, circling around Josie like a predator.

  Josie watched her, unbothered, moving as she moved until her body was positioned between the vampires and Andrew’s.

  Luke’s crumpled form lay in the center of the room. Josie’s gaze darted to it briefly, and she wondered if he was still alive, or if they’d already drained him.

  “You mean you don’t know?” She asked, cocking her head. “I’m the Blade – duh.”

  For a moment, nothing happened. The blonde stared at her, sneering, and the dreaded vampire’s hands flexed like claws. And then leapt through the air with a growl like a wild cat.

  “Andrew!” Josie shouted as she prepared to dodge, “Run!”

  The woman launched herself forward too, and Josie thanked the Gods for the distraction that allowed Andrew to dart out from behind her and out the door.

  While her friends escaped, Josie fought.

  It had been years since she’d had to do this, but as it turned out, kicking vampire ass was remarkably like riding a bike. She dodged the woman’s attack easily, and thrust her stake up into the man’s chest with an upswing. He exploded into dirt with a squawk of surprise.

  Screeching, the remaining vampire bolted for Josie, and Josie dodged again, but swung around in time to use the woman’s momentum against her. Seizing the back of her cardigan, she swung the vampire around once, twice, throwing her into the nearest wall. She grunted, hit the floor, but jumped to her feet again, her hands flexed like claws at her sides, a growl in her throat.

  “I’m going to enjoy tearing your throat out, little girl,” the vampire’s eyes shone angrily, flashing like a wild cat’s in the darkness.

  “Yeah, that’s what they all say,” said Josie.

  To her right, nearly against a wall, was a cracked stone coffin. Josie raced towards it and felt the woman give chase, only to be knocked sideways when Josie seized the lip of the coffin’s lid and swung it like a mallet.

  “Why couldn’t you assholes go infest some other town?!” she groused, tossing the lid aside while the vampire struggled to her feet once more.

  Josie stalked towards the vampire, stake raised, but before she could dust her, a strong hand seized her from behind, a vice-like grip squeezing her neck, lifting her until the toes of her boots brushed the floor.

  “Troublesome girl,” rumbled a deep voice. “You have wasted precious minutes.”

  Josie gagged, struggling in the chokehold, kicking her feet as her lungs seized and she fought to breathe.

  The vampire threw her carelessly. She soared through the air and hit the far stone wall with a terrible thud, sliding to the ground as the newcomer rounded on the woman.

  “The Oldest awaits, and you waste time chasing this girl?” He gestured to Josie’s crumpled body.

  “She killed Justin!” whimpered the woman. “She’s strong! She said she is–”

  “Go,” said the man, his voice rumbling commandingly. “I will take care of the child.”

  The woman glowered at him, but didn’t argue, and left the crypt in a huff.

  Josie listened to it all, curled in on herself, wondering all the while who the hell the Oldest was. Her body ached where she had hit the wall, but she was the Blade, and she could take it. Tomorrow half her torso would be covered in bruises, but none of her bones had been broken. Yet. Small miracles.

  The man rounded on her, and Josie cleared her mind, preparing herself as he crossed the room in a few quick, long-legged strides. She curled in on herself like a bug as the gigantic vampire lifted a stomping boot, and rolled to the side to avoid the blow.

  Hopping to her feet, Josie slid into a defensive stance, ignoring the throbbing of her back and ribs as she eyed her opponent. He was huge. Well over six feet, and wide, too. Josie noted that about three of her could fit inside of him before he was charging her, delivering punch after punch to the defensive shield she’d made of her arms.

  She ducked, swinging her leg out to sweep his ankles, but he jumped and swung his fist towards her temple.

  Josie blocked him with one arm, but the crash of his weight landed a significant blow, making her wince as pain shot up to her neck. With her opposite fist, she sucker punched him in the jaw.

  His face swung sideways. “You’re strong,” the vampire rumbled. “But I am so much stronger.”

  Josie took off running, hoping to reach the lid of the stone coffin, hoping to use it as a weapon like she’d used it against the other vampire. He tore after her, but she got there just in time, able to seize the heavy edge, lift it, and swing before the vampire was on her.

  It crashed into his ribs, sending the heavy man flying. He hit the ground on his back, the weight of him making the walls of the crypt tremble. Josie wasted no time in jumping atop him, punching him once, twice in the jaw while he was still dazed. She seized her stake and raised it high.

  But the vampire recovered fast, and caught her wrist in his bruising grip. His face was a mess of black, bruises that would heal in an hour or two.

  “You think you can stop us? All of us?”

  His laugh was a deep rumble that vibrated up her arm. With his other hand, he gripped the stake, tearing it from her hold, and snapped it in his fist.

  Josie shouted, half surprised, half in pain, as the vampire's fingers squeezed her wrist even harder, to the point of nearly snapping it. He gripped her by the back of her head, meaty fingers tangled in her hair, yanking so sharply that she shouted in pain again, and rose to his feet, bringing her with him. Once again, she dangled in the air, held up by only his grip, by her hair and her throbbing wrist.

  Josie kicked out hard, fighting through the sharp agony. The toe of her boot slammed into the vampire’s gut and he grunted, then threw her across the room.

  Josie hit the ground, a groan of pain locked in her throat. Get up, she thought. But her head spun and her legs would not obey.

  Meanwhile, the giant vampire advanced.

  “You humans are like a plague. But soon, the Culling will be upon us, and your human blood will flow through the streets. The Oldest will rise, and this realm will bow to him.”

  Josie finally got herself to stand, her legs wobbling. She took a step back, trying to get her bearings, but the vampire lifted her again, and slammed her down into the coffin beside the skeleton of some long dead corpse.

  Josie screamed. Empty eye sockets stared back at her, ignorant to her plight, and then suddenly she wasn’t alone – the gigantic vampire leapt over the rim of the coffin and folded himself over her.

  Josie writhed, screeching, kicking her knees up, beating her fists against his chest, but with him inside of the stone box, there was hardly any room to move. It was a shock he’d managed to squeeze his massive frame into it at all.

  “Shall we start?” He smirked down at her, one meaty hand gripping her jaw in a tight, painful hold.

  His wide lips parted, his fangs extending as he lowered himself over Josie, her screams echoing off the stone walls.