How to Discipline Your Vampire(73)

            I laughed out loud. Oh, this was going to be a hoot.

            “What are you so happy about?” Katy asked, rubbing her belly as she saw me heading toward my next class.

            “Zombie hunting,” I said, and she just made an amused but perplexed face and moved on.

            Throughout the day, I brushed up on zombie lore. The slow ones were called shamblers because of the way they staggered when they walked. They did come out during the day, but their energy was typically much stronger at night. The only way to kill zombies is decapitation and/or dismemberment.

            Damn, if vampires existed, did zombies? I hoped William was just being cheeky with this scene, and not warning me about something.

            I went home before heading to the abandoned house. I grabbed my backpack and threw some canned goods in there, along with bottled water and some of my cooking knives. My jeans were tattered, as was my dirty tee shirt. A few years ago I participated in a survivor-like retreat with a few fellow Dommes to work on leadership techniques. My jeans were destroyed on one of the hikes, and my shirt was stained beyond recognition by the naughty s’mores-fest that followed. So, I had a perfect ensemble for today, no need for William’s or Harvey’s intervention.

            This was almost like a scavenger hunt. I made a note in my mind to recommend more scenes like this in the future.

            Gah, I was thinking about the future. Dammit.

            I plugged the address into my smartphone and made my way to the last beacon of hope for humanity. I parked a few blocks away so I’d be approaching the house on foot, and possibly out of breath. Seriously, I hadn’t worked out in a while, so it wasn’t a long shot.

            The house was an old colonial, and appeared to have been vacated years ago. Some of the shutters were loose and hanging askew, and there were more than a few boarded-up windows.

            Just as I started up the walkway, William burst through the door.

            “Behind you!” he shouted, beckoning to me. “Run!”

            For a moment, I was actually scared. I sprinted toward him and he swept me inside quickly, bolting the door behind him.

            He slumped against the wall and peeked over his shoulder out the door’s window.

            “It turned around,” he panted, wiping his brow.

            “A shambler?” I asked, huffing.

            He nodded. “In good shape, too. Could have done some real damage.”

            I extended my hand. “I found your website—I’m Cerise.”

            He sucked in a long breath. “William.”

            “I come bearing gifts.” I unzipped the backpack and spilled its contents on the floor.

            He rifled through the cans, amazed. “Thank you so much. I have a lot more in the cupboard, but it’s nice to have some variety,” he said with a smile. “There’s only so many canned carrots and beans a man can eat.”

            “I don’t know what you have for weapons, but I brought some knives,” I said, unpacking my wares.

            He gestured to the far wall of the sitting room we were in. “A couple of handguns, a rifle, and a fireman’s axe. Not great, but they do the trick.”

            I hugged him. “Thank God I found you.”

            He squeezed back. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for someone.”

            Actually, I had some idea. I blushed at the truth behind his words.

            He jumped up suddenly. “Did you hear that?”