Darkness Rises(2)

Beneath, she wore tight, black pants that showed every shapely curve of her long legs and a black T-shirt that hugged small, firm breasts.
Étienne had always been a sucker for women with athletic builds.
Out came an iPod touch. She conquered her inebriation long enough to tuck earbuds into her ears, but the battery must have run down because she swore and tucked everything back into her pocket.
Étienne rose.
That pause had cost her.
Dark figures slithered from the shadows on either side of the frat house and followed her as she resumed her trek uphill.
Étienne leapt nimbly to the next roof, careful not to make any sound that would alert the vampires to his presence.
He counted four and monitored their progress as they slunk from shadow to shadow, dogging the woman’s wobbly footsteps.
Krysta began to sing, utterly oblivious to the creatures who stalked her.
Unfamiliar with the song, Étienne assumed it was one of the latest pop hits. His lips twitched as he leapt to the next roof. She was having a hell of a time remembering the lyrics. Or the right notes. Krysta couldn’t carry a tune. And he was pretty sure it wasn’t the alcohol.
She came to a corner and halted. A look of confusion flitted across her pretty features as she squinted up at the street sign.
Étienne froze, careful to ensure no light touched him.
Had her gaze flitted from the sign up to him?
No. She was looking all around like she either didn’t know where she was or couldn’t remember where she intended to go.
The vampires slunk farther into the shadows mere moments before she glanced in their direction.
“Hmm,” she mumbled. “I think . . .” She spun in a circle. “Right.”
She crossed the deserted street, passed Bastien’s building, and . . . entered a dark alley. Really? Had she no sense of self-preservation?
Étienne drew his katanas as the vampires flowed into the alley behind her like a black tide. Their thoughts—a writhing mass of madness, violence, and anticipation—struck him like poisoned arrows.
Being telepathic could really suck sometimes.
He frowned, only then realizing he hadn’t heard any of Krysta’s thoughts. As he watched her stumble toward the end of the alley, not yet noticing that her path would soon be blocked by a tall chain-link fence, he focused on her tipsy head and . . . heard nothing.
Very unusual. He could count on one hand the number of humans he had encountered in his two centuries of existence who could block, intentionally or not, his entrance into their minds.
She halted.
The vamps spread out across the alley, facing her. Light from the street distended and distorted the shadows at their feet, making it seem almost as though they reached for her ankles.
Étienne stepped to the edge of the roof, preparing to drop down and save Krysta’s attractive, but flighty ass, then . . .
She ceased swaying. Her shoulders straightened.
Spinning around, she offered the menacing foursome a cool, measuring stare.
Étienne frowned.
The vampires boasted no weapons. Yet. But their eyes glowed and their lips parted to expose long, glinting fangs. She should be screaming her head off. Instead . . .
“Finally,” she pronounced with a healthy dose of exasperation. “It took you guys long enough. I mean, did you really have to make me walk up that damned hill?”
What. The. Hell?
 

 

Krysta shifted, balancing her weight lightly on the balls of her feet as the vampires exchanged puzzled looks. There were four of them. Four would be a challenge. Okay, more than a challenge. Way more. She had had her ass handed to her more than once in the past couple of years when trying to combat such numbers on her own. But, until they actually closed in, she was often unable to tell just how many had taken the bait and followed her.
Sneakers shuffled on dirty asphalt.
These seemed to be typical examples of the vampires’ ilk. Young. Twenties or thereabouts. Could blend in easily on a college campus if you disregarded the brilliantly glowing eyes and fangs. Hopefully they hadn’t been vampires for very long. The older they were, the more insane they were. At least that was how she thought it worked. And the deeper they descended into madness, the harder they were to defeat. Krysta didn’t have their speed. Or strength. Or size and weight. But she did have two things they didn’t.
The first was skill. She had spent years training in tae kwon do, karate, and jiujitsu, and had trained with weapons long enough to kick ass. Most vampires had spent a majority of the time, prior to their transformation, sitting on their asses and either texting, yakking on the phone, surfing the Internet, or playing video games. That didn’t lend them much skill with knives and swords, so she didn’t really understand why they carried them. They were vampires. They could disarm a human easily and, if they didn’t, could survive a bullet wound, so what was the deal with that? As far as Krysta knew, she was the only vampire hunter in existence. She seriously doubted her reputation preceded her.#p#分页标题#e#