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She didn’t like it.  Not one bit.  Usually, she was at home in the darkness but now it seemed to enclose her, bind her, threaten her.  She tried keeping her cool but the night seemed filled with dangers and threats.  She knew it would be no good to enter this meeting in a cold sweat with her heart in her throat.  That would be VERY bad.  Good or bad, her body wasn't listening.  She tried to calm herself, get to her natural state.  She imagined death and mayhem and that soothed her a bit.  She ran her hand longingly over the cold steel slide of her holstered .45 and that calmed her the rest of the way.

She dragged her fingers through her long, curly hair.  Not quite nervous, impatience certainly possessed her as she looked at her watch.  Her client was late.  She hated tardiness.  A slight scowl came over her face that did nothing for her features.  Good, mad was good, annoyed was better.  She was accustomed to being annoyed when encountering these things.  Though, if she was going to be honest, nowadays, emotionless was more common.  She checked her watch again.  Fifteen minutes late.  She rested her hand on the stakes shoved precariously in her belt, reassuring herself with their solid weight.  One wrong move, just one, and the demon would be history.  She almost wished it'd try something.  Actually, she did wish it.  Then she’d get both ends of the stick.  She sighed and was once again at ease.  Except, of course, for the fact the monster was late.

She leaned against the old brick wall when a snide little wisp of what passed for a man with a wicked grin on its face darted into sight.  “You’re late, Nickolaus."  She didn't even bother to disguise the venom in her voice as she hissed out the name.

It jumped on a post of the wall easily eight feet from the ground and said, “You’re early,” with a slight accent and a hint of the gentile under many layers of superiority.  Of course, an insecure jackass would NEED the reassurance of attaining the higher ground.

“Do you really want me to smack that look off your face?” she snarled at it, positioning her body slightly forward in that way only women can do right but gay men sometimes achieve.  She bet she could kill it from here, if she tried.  The thought brought a grin to her face that would have sent chills down the spine of a normal person; that and the urge to run.

Holding up its hands, it said, “Hey, hey!  Aren’t we here to do business, vampire hunter?”  Diplomatic asshole.  She resisted the urge to finger her weapons again.

She glared at the monster before her, “We are.  Just hand over the money and the information and I’ll be on my merry way.”  And know someday your ass is grass, asshole.

 It smiled.  “Now that’s a little more to your reputation, vampire hunter.”  The vampire slipped its hand under its coat and pulled out an envelope.  “Here you go, sweetie.  All there, as we agreed.  Just know, if you fail, I will kill you."  Yeah, win or lose.  Ditto, dumbass.  "I think I’d rather enjoy it.  From the smell of you, your blood would be sweet.”  It smiled and disappeared as quickly as it'd arrived.  Without further ado, she leaned against the wall and opened the large flimsy white envelope.  She was curious, to say nothing else, why a vampire would contract a vampire hunter to kill one of his own.  All the better for her.  After all, the money wasn’t usually that great in her chosen field.  She pulled a picture of a skinny, but pretty girl with black hair.  She had an almost mischievous smile on her face, but not quite.  She pulled out the bio sheet and stopped dead when she read the vampire was only about a year old.  What the hell??  Why would it bother with such a young vampire?  Young vampires didn’t last long anyway, from her experience.  The new ones were always easy to kill.  She figured, between people like her and internal squabbles, most didn't survive.  She was certain it could have easily taken care of this issue on its own, so why enlist her and spend all this money?

On the other hand, who cares?  She was getting paid for something she loved to do.  What’d it matter why she was getting paid?  And it wasn't like the vampire was going to survive long enough to reap the rewards of the contract kill, whatever they may be.  She pulled the last thing from the envelope, a wad of bills, 100s, ten grand worth.  It was time to start surveillance on this bitch.


Photo credit: Daniele Zedda / Foter.com / CC BY



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