The Last True Vampire(25)
Yeah, Claire, why the hell not? She took one deep steadying breath and then another, digging the balls of her feet into her shoes, prepared to stand her ground. He wanted her to run. Wanted to chase her down. Claire refused to give him the satisfaction. From a young age she’d learned that she needed to be scrappy if she wanted to survive the life she’d been given. No way was she running from some creepy-ass dude just because he gave her the willies. “Believe me, buddy, I’ve seen my share of scary things. I don’t frighten easily.”
He paused. “Indeed?”
In the blink of an eye he was in front of her. Claire took a stumbling step backward, jamming her spine into a parking meter. How in the hell had he done that? One second three car lengths separated them, and the next he was standing right in front of her. He canted his head to one side, studying her as one animal took stock of another. A deep musky scent permeated the air and Claire stifled a gag as the priest leaned in toward her, sniffing the air like a dog.
“He’s had your blood,” the priest hissed with a hungry smile. “No doubt he’ll be tracking you.”
Claire stepped to the side and put several needed feet between her and the priest. Not only was he creepy; the dude also was obviously six eggs short of a dozen. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. I didn’t mean to filch on your territory. I won’t hit the club district again. In fact, I’m not planning to hit any districts ever again. Lesson learned. So let’s just go our separate ways and call it a night, okay?”#p#分页标题#e#
His sick smile grew and he bared his teeth, making him look even more like an animal. Claire’s pulse jumped in her veins as a trickle of fear seeped into her bloodstream. Jesus. What was she looking at here? One strong hand snapped up toward her and Claire brought the canister of pepper spray up, aiming it at the priest’s eyes as she depressed the trigger.
He shook his head, sending droplets of pepper spray flying. Aside from that singular action, he gave no sign that it even affected him. Claire stared, dumbstruck. In a flash of motion the priest reached out and seized her by the throat. His flesh was searing hot against hers, his thumb and fingers digging in just below either side of her jawbone, and she cried out in pain.
Her voice was nothing more than a hoarse rasp as she forced it past the restriction of his fingers on her throat. “Let me go … you son of a bitch!” With her right hand she struck out with the pocketknife, catching her assailant between his neck and shoulder. He drew in a sharp breath, seizing her wrist in his opposite hand and wrenching it backward until she had no choice but to drop the knife or suffer a broken hand.
“You’ve been soiled, Claire.” His fetid breath caressed her face, and her stomach heaved, threatening to empty the contents of her stomach. “Tainted. Marked by the beast himself.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice was a hoarse rasp as she struggled against him, but he held her in an unrelenting iron grip. The guy could give any MMA champ a run for his money and that was saying something considering he was maybe five-five and a hundred and forty pounds. “Please…” Any bravado she might have felt was long gone. Streetwise or not, Claire was way over her head and she knew it. “Please, just let me go.”
“I can’t do that, Claire. Fate must be realigned.”
Tendrils of black crept back into the whites of his eyes, spreading out in dark veins throughout the delicate skin of his eyelids. The heady, musky smell intensified and Claire gagged, swallowing down the bile that rose in her throat. She took in shallow gulps of breath as the priest’s grip on her throat tightened and he slowly raised her up off of the ground until only the tips of her toes made contact with the sidewalk beneath her.
He released her wrist and Claire clawed at the hand holding her. With a swift kick she connected with his shin, but she might as well have been kicking at a brick wall for all the good it did her.
“I won’t kill you, Claire,” the priest said almost conversationally. He kept her suspended in the air as though he could support her weight for the rest of the night without tiring. “Not yet, anyway. I can’t promise not to hurt you in the meantime, though. I do so love to exact pain.”
He released his grip on her throat and Claire tumbled to the ground in a heap. A sharp pang radiated from her hip bone upon contact with the concrete, but she didn’t have time to acknowledge it. She scrambled for freedom, her nails scraping against the sidewalk as she fought for traction with the slick soles of her tennis shoes. Behind her the sound of metal scraping against concrete drew her attention, and Claire’s heart jumped up into her throat.