“Cherie?” the well-dressed man called lovingly as he walked closer. “What are you doing out alone so late at night?”
The little girl continued to cry, her pinafore stained with mud, her grubby face pale under the dim gaslights.
“Stop crying, I’ll—”
A dark figure hit the man, knocking him sprawling, taloned hands locking around the man’s neck, squeezing. The little girl struggled to her feet and ran down the street. She slipped inside an open basement door, squeezing into a coal bin, trying to be still.
There was the sound of the basement window creaking open, then a rustling of cloth.
“Cherie,” a sinister voice breathed from right outside the bin. “Come out. You have nothing to fear from me.”
The little girl held her breath.
There was the sudden clink of coin, the metallic noise instantly making her salivate. She tentatively opened the door.
The vampire extended his hand, offering her the gold coins. “Ten ducats, as I agreed.”
The little girl took them eagerly, fisting them in her hands.
The vampire places his hands on her shoulders. “This worked well for your first time, my young actress. Might you be interested in a more permanent arrangement?”
The little girl looked up at him, her eyes all business. “No biting.”
“Agreed,” the vampire said with a nod, then offered his hand. “Shall we be off? The sun is rising.”
The pair crept out of the cellar, and walked down the road, avoiding the corpse of the helpful stranger that sprawled against the far wall of the alley.
“My name is James,” the vampire said elegantly, as he led her through the winding streets. “And who are you, Cherie?”
“Mina,” the little girl said, turning to him, her eyes suddenly laced with hatred. “You know my brother, Charles—”
James narrowed his eyes, his fangs baring as he whirled on her. “Gamling. That hunter—!”
The wooden bolt hit him in the shoulder, knocking James back a step. He hissed, then lunged for Mina. Another bolt hit his left breast. With an agonized shout, James collapsed back to the pavement, reeling with pain.
An old man ran up, his breaths fast. “Good work, Mina.”
A younger man approached from the opposite direction. “Are you okay, daughter?”
Mina nodded, her eyes staring into James, his expression murderous. He pulled out one bolt, then tried to pull out the other. With a pained expression, he released his hold on the wooden shaft, gasping.
The men glared down at the fallen monster, training their crossbows at him. “We have only to wait for the sun, killer of children.”
“Never by choice, only necessity,” James said, leaning backwards to the filthy pavement. “Yet how apt that one sealed my doom.” He glanced up at Mina. “Does this make you happy, Cherie?”
“Stop calling her that,” father said angrily, reaching for Mina to pull her away. The abrupt movement triggered his crossbow, the bolt missing James to fly straight into a washerwoman just emerging from the front of a house. With a scream, she clutched the arrow in her breast, then fell backwards inside the door.
“You fool!” the old man said, training his weapon on James. “Now we must—”
“Die!” James snarled, lunging to his feet, his deft move evading the bolt even as his talons reached out, slicing deep into the neck of the old man. Mina’s father tried to reload, but the bolt slipped from his nervous fingers. James pulled out the remaining bloody bolt from his body, then rammed it deep into the man’s chest, twisting it as he shoved.
“Those that live by the sword die by it, Hunter,” James hissed. He shoved the still jerking body down, then cast a glance at the lightening sky. From around the square, people were running toward them, including several police.
James looked down at Mina, then extended his hand. “My same offer stands, Cherie. You are alone in the world now.”
Mina looked down at her father and his partner in shock, her eyes teary. “You killed them.”
“They were trying to kill me,” James said, reaching out and taking her hand. He squeezed it gently. “Don’t you think that’s fair?”
The constable ran up. “What’s all this?”
“Two robbers attacked my daughter and me as we were hurrying home,” James said smoothly. “They lie there before you on the stones.”
“Late night for the little miss,” the constable said disapprovingly. “And you got the drop on them?”
“The one betrayed his friend, shooting him. The friend retaliated, slitting his throat in a lucky dying lunge. I‘d tried once to seize the weapon, and gotten a stick with a blade for my efforts, as you can see by my bloodied clothes. After that, I was much too terrified for my daughter’s safety to risk any further action in defense.”
The constable looked at the two dead men for a long moment, then nodded. He turned to the little girl. “You’re lucky you have such a smart father, little miss. He saved your life.” He smiled down at her. “You are a pretty little thing. What is your name?”
Mina swallowed hard. “Cherie,” she answered, clutching the vampire’s cold hand.
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©2011 Tara Fox Hall
Tara Fox Hall is an OSHA-certified safety and health inspector at a metal fabrication shop in upstate New York. She received her bachelor’s degree in mathematics with a double minor in chemistry and biology from Binghamton University. Her writing credits include nonfiction short stories, flash, short and novella-length horror stories, and contemporary and historical paranormal romance. She also coauthored the essay “The Allure of the Serial Killer,” published in Serial Killers - Philosophy for Everyone: Being and Killing (Wiley-Blackwell, 2010). Her first E-Book, Surrender to Me, was published in September 2011. She divides her free time unequally between writing novels and short stories, chainsawing firewood, caring for stray animals, sewing cat and dog beds for donation to animal shelters, and target practice.
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