Daylight - Verbayne +Demonata-Freak (good romance books to read .TXT) 📗

I swallow the lump in my throat and force back the tears threatening to leak from my red raw eyes. My legs start to shake, the Vampire blood was enough to mend my broken hand and give me enough energy for simple activities but I didn’t consume enough of the red liquid to sustain me for a while. I need fresh human blood, that is why I was going to feed of the lucky country boy, at least now he can live a little longer, as for me…

I run a hand down my face and groan out load, it’s been a long three hours and I can see tips of buildings; I am getting close to a city, but which city? The internal battle with my conscious continues as I come closer to a familiar but annoyingly dull city.

I’ve been wandering these filthy streets for a good two hours now. The endless maze of concrete roads in the ridiculously large forest of buildings, cramped together as if desperate to consume every inch of this once green world is enough to drive the most cold-hearted SOB to the ground in tears.

Trying to ignore this once great worlds remains is easier said than done, I try humming a song this world has not heard for centuries to keep my mind of the increasing lack of strength in my muscles but it does no good. I must feed. Or I’ll die. 

I creep down a dark alley, threatening to fear ridden humans but for a creature of the night a perfect place for hunting prey. The floor is sticky with some type of grotesque slime and a foul odour is thick in the air, I know for a fact I’m breathing in more than just oxygen. As I continue to walk down the cold, (because of the lack of blood, I am feeling the cold just like any other human would) the dark is darker than I’m used to because along with my withering strength, cold seeping into my bones and the continues nag at the back of my mind, my eyes have decided they want to act up like the rest of my body. I take a turn, steam spilling out of three grates on the floor, and amongst the steam…something. 

I squint my eyes and try and make it out, a figure. A male figure, tall and broad and something unnerving about him. He begins to walk through the steam towards me, only now I notice what he holds in his hand, a knife. A silver knife. Vampire Hunter. 

The state I’m in I couldn’t fight off a squirrel let alone a large Vampire Hunter, and he knew about the silver knife, so he is experienced. One clean slice to the throat with that knife, no matter how powerful the Vampire, they are dead meat walking. Fear strikes my heart before his knife can and I turn round but my path is guarded by two monasteries people, a large buff man and an even bigger woman. Vampire Hunters sure have changed in the past five hundred years, these guys are huge! They are both holding silver machetes and smiling evilly down at me.

I back away a couple of meters, throwing my head over my shoulder to check out steam guy, he has stopped a meter or two from me and is waiting with frightening enthusiasm. I quickly dart to the side and try to climb up the mossy bricked building but after a couple of meters my strength drains, my nails brake and I go crashing to the ground with a sickening crack. I roar with pain as I collide with the concrete, my creams echoing of the walls, the three Hunters grouped around me. I can do nothing as they corner their prey, my strength abandoning me at a very fatale moment.

“Looks like this scum hasn’t been drinkin’ anyone lately!” The overly muscular woman snarls, already raising her machete, wanting more than anything to take my head off. Her over eagerness rubs off on her pal but the man who came from the steam glares at her and she restrains her rage and drops her hands, weapon at her side.

The man who came from the steam squats beside me and leans his face close to mine. My eyes may not be as polished as usual but I do notice that he has three scars dragging down the left side of his face and his shaggy red hair, matching my own, almost covers his blue eyes. He grabs my chin and gently twists my face from side to side. “She is in very bad shape, Minitra. You are right; I say she hasn’t fed for a couple of months at the least!” Months? Do I really look that bad?

 My body is aching all over from the fall, a humiliation I could have done without, and with no blood to repair myself these Hunters have me in a very deep disadvantage. It is taking all my will power left in my broken down body not to cry out with pain, but my cries would go unanswered, unless a cat here’s me! He smirks, “but I don’t think we should be so hasty to kill her,” he says with a soft voice but with malice poisoning his words. I pull my chin from his grasp and he fakes concern but with a smile playing on his lips it’s hard not to smile back. I always did love the rough lookin’ ones.

“Touch me again, and I’ll bite your fuckin’ fingers off!” I croak; my desperation to look fearsome goes unanswered as pain and hunger floods my body, causing me to roll into a ball.

“Let’s just kill her and be done with it, the boss won’t care if we bring another dead one home. One less and all that!” The large man beside the woman known as Minitra groans, the hand which is holding the silver consumed machete twitches. “She’s pathetic anyway, look at how she squirms!”

“You would squirm too if you hadn’t ate in months, Smokey!” The red haired man laughs, moving away from me, he faces his two companions. “And the boss will care, we brought ‘im a dead one the other day, he want a live one!” He snaps at them, missing letters in his words as he spoke.

They think over the idea for a few minutes, suggesting ways they think they could try to contain me. Then the woman snaps her fingers and gasps cheerfully. “I say we cut off her legs, pull out her fangs and blind her, that way she can’t fight back!” Minitras surprisingly squeaky voice purrs longingly. They want to hurt me…in the most gruesome of ways, yet they do not even know me, only my kind.

“I agree with Minitra, defang her, paralyse her and fuck up her eyes. She’s no use to us healthy.” Smokey grunts with the same softness as a broken piece of glass wedged into an eye.

Red, I have not heard his name, this is just made up. Even if the name is incorrect I like putting names to faces, even if they are about to chop my feet off. “I agree,” Red mutters. I spread my body out, ignoring the bloody pain swarming through my veins, I may not have the strength to stand but I have the willpower to look my enemy in the eye.

He slowly pads over to me, face dark, his hair one again shading his eyes causing him to look like a creature of the night. The gleam in his eyes make him look like he is already regretting what he is about to do but the hidden smirk on the corner of his lips turn even my stomach. I breathe out a jagged breath through my nose as he slowly reviles a hidden silver machete from a sheath concealed under his shirt. He grips it tight and rests on one knee beside my bare legs, the checkered shirt doing nothing to protect me from the fierce cold.

He cocks his head and looks me with a sly smile on his face, a face that has seen pure evil at the core; and instead of striving to do the opposite has walked down the path of destruction, hand in hand with the devil. “Don’t worry,” he coos gently, brushing some of the fire I call hair out of my face. I snap at his fingers but my jaw creaks with pain as I do and I end up whimpering. “This won’t hurt…” He brings the machete far above his head. “much…” And with all the power the gods gave a man brings down the toxic silver weapon.

Cloaked in darkness I glided over the deserted street. My eyes flickered from side to side scanning for any sign of the disobedient vampire Saoirse. As I walked I began to feel a heavy sense of dread ease through the darkness. A frown creased my lips as I came to stand in the center of a small circle. It seemed to be the center of the town.

That sense of dread poured over me like a waterfall. Something to my left stepped on a twig. My head swiveled to the sound. A man, nearly seven foot tall, stood under a lone lamp. It shone on him like a spot light.

He leaned against the post like some kind of cowboy model, hat, chaps, and boots included. His arms were crossed over his chest, shirt so tight I thought it would rip under the strain. Something shinny under his arms caught my attention. Instead of taking in his features I stared at the glistening weapon in his hands. It was a machete coated in silver.

My frown deepened. Damn it Saoirse, of all places you could have gone you just had to pick a Hunter’s town. While I had been caught looking at the cowboy others had gathered. More street lights flashed in the darkness, illuminating a small army of humans. I turned in a circle, taking in my surroundings.

Twenty, twenty Hunters circled around me like a lion stalking its prey. Most of them were men, clad in the same western style gear as the first man. Only a dozen looked like woman. They wore leather chaps and corsets lined with knifes. Of the few faces I caught in the darkness I actually recognized one. The situation had just gone from bad to worse.

“Just what I needed.” I mumbled to myself.

As I grumbled curses I stared at the man under the first light post. His hat tipped back to reveal a darkly tanned Latino with a wad of pale scar tissue lumped on his cheek. I smiled at him darkly, fangs showing. He flinched. Ah, their numbers may be great but not all have taken a vampires head before it seems.

The thought made me smile wider, more genuine. I felt that bizarre power fluctuate, one person standing out from the rest. My body naturally turned so I was facing the o ne how stood out from the crowd. A man, nearly as tall as the Mexican, took two steps away from the gathering Hunters. He wore an old duster, sawed off shot gun in one hand, machete