Darkness Rises(3)

The orange glow around the vampires moved and shifted as the not-very-bright predators tried to figure out why she wasn’t fleeing in terror.
And that was her second advantage. She could see auras. Until she had begun to hunt vampires, she had never thought much of the ability. It warned her of people’s moods, so she could turn and walk the other way if someone was pissed about something and she didn’t want to hear it. Big whoop.
Then her life had changed dramatically, and she had actually found a use for her talent.
Vampires were incredibly fast. Like as fast as The Flash. Their movements became blurry and indistinct when they moved at top speeds. But their auras behaved very differently than those of humans. Vampires’ auras moved and shifted before they did, telling her exactly where they intended to go before they even took a step.
Krysta eyed the vamps before her, waiting for the telltale shift in auras that would precede their attack.
“Aren’t you afraid of us?” one asked.
“No. Should I be?”
Looks were exchanged.
“Yeah, ya dumb bitch,” another proclaimed. “We’re vampires!”
So polite. She slid a hand into her coat and grasped the handle of one of the shoto swords she carried, ready to teach him some manners. “Yeah, and?”
“What, are you a second?”
She fought a frown. He wasn’t the first vampire who had asked her that. What the hell was a second? A second what?
“Fuck this. Let’s kick her ass!” a third cried.
The aura of the one closest to her shifted. Krysta drew her sword and swung it, the blade sinking into flesh as the vampire blurred and caught up with the orange glow.
Krysta drew her other sword.
The three remaining vampires gaped as the severed head of their companion hit the ground and rolled several feet away from the body that tumbled after it.
The first kill was always the easiest.
The vampires’ faces contorted with fury. Growls and snarls erupted. Eyes glowed brighter.
Crap. Here we go.
Orange auras deepened in color and shot forward just before the vampires’ forms all blurred.
Krysta swung both swords with as much speed and strength as she possessed. Her heart raced. Adrenaline surged through her veins. Her blades sank into her opponents.
When warm blood slapped her in the face, she clamped her lips shut. No way did she want any of that getting into her mouth. She didn’t know exactly how one became a vampire, but figured it probably had something to do with the blood.
One of the vamps landed a blow to her back that sent pain careening through her as she flew forward and hit the ground.
Rolling, she came up swinging as the vamps converged on her. The momentum of one came to her aid and made a hit that normally would have just cut him instead sever his arm. Vamps tended to not recover from such severe wounds, bleeding out faster than they could heal. As this one did, stumbling backward and falling to the ground while he fought to staunch the crimson river flowing onto the pavement around him.
The vampires divided, attacking from opposite sides.
Krysta continued to wield her deadly shotos, creating a barrier as formidable as a rotary fan’s blades. Cuts opened on the vampires, who became manic in their fury, slavering like rabid dogs.
Fear a constant companion, she delivered a round-house kick to the vamp behind her. Agony shot up her leg. It was like kicking a damned boulder. But at least it had kept him from diving low and biting her leg as his aura had warned her he intended.
She landed several more slashes before silver glinted in their hands.
Hell.
Needlelike pain erupted in her arms, sides, and back as they cut her.
Time to take a huge risk.
Ignoring the vampire behind her, she focused all of her attention on the one in front of her. The next time his aura shifted, she swung with all of her might.
The vampire’s eyes widened. Stumbling back, he raised both hands to the throat her sword had laid open. The gray shirt he wore turned red as blood spilled down his chest and saturated it.
Spinning around, she raised her weapons. The last vamp, who should have been all over her after the opening she’d given him, stared at her stupidly and stumbled back a step.
She frowned.
He grunted. And grunted again. Blood spilled from his lips.
What the hell?
Groaning, he sank to his knees and clumsily tried to reach behind him with both hands.
Was this a trick?
Swords at the ready, she limped forward and began to edge around him to see what the hell he was reaching for.
Krysta stopped and stared. Half a dozen daggers protruded from his back. And, judging by their positions, they had pierced his heart and probably sliced through at least one major artery.
A whole new fear invaded her as she backed away, her gaze darting all around her and seeking the source of those weapons.