Hunter caught his breath, watching Chloe’s hand hover at her hip like she was expecting to find her gun there.
It was clear she was terrified, and the adrenaline was pumping through her body, putting her even more on edge. Her eyes were wide, and she was staring at the bloodied piece of wood in his hand.
He tossed it into a pile of garbage.
That shook her from her frozen stance, and her head snapped to where the corpse had been, making her eyes widen even more.
Hunter held up his hand.
“There’s a lot to explain.”
She saw the blood on his fingers, and that snapped her into action.
Chloe strode off down the alley, barging past him, and out towards the relative safety of the busy street beyond. It was all Hunter could do to turn and follow her, trying not to spook her even more, just matching her speed and keeping his distance.
And even in these circumstances, he couldn’t help staring at her ass as she moved, taut and peachy under her jeans; this was the effect she had on him, the effect she had on all of them. It was her gift, and she didn’t even know about it.
When she reached the sidewalk, she stopped and stood directly underneath a lamp post, letting the orange glow surround her, making sure she was completely visible to the few civilians milling up and down the street. The odd car passed slowly behind her, not sure if she was hooking or not.
Hunter stood a distance from her, leaning against the closed storefront, its cold metal shutters at his back, his hands deep in his pockets. He watched her from under his hood, making sure she could see his face. She seemed so little.
Time ticked on, and she just studied him, making her mind up, and he couldn’t help taking in the swell of her tits under that tiny vest top, couldn’t help lusting after those nipples, still swollen from her fuck, couldn’t help wanting her.
With a sniff, she came to a conclusion, and strode off down the sidewalk.
Hunter counted to ten, then started to follow.
Her pace was brisk, but not fast, and she wasn’t about to run. Those heels clacking on the concrete would see to that; unless she kicked them off and bolted away barefoot.
It was hard to judge, and he was prepared to give her some time, and some space.
But only some.
She steered right and into another alley, and he smiled, thinking she had come to her senses and was prepared to talk.
When he turned into the alley, he felt her fist smack into his mouth.
His hand snapped up and grabbed her wrist, but she was ready for that, and dropped her hip, spinning him round and locking his arm high above his head as she eased him down to his knees.
Her attack had been swift, and she had subdued him with an expertise he should have expected; but he’d been distracted by the curves of her body, and he realised that had been her intention all along.
He felt some plastic slip around his wrist, felt his body being yanked around, felt the plastic loop onto his other wrist, and he was tied up, face on the ground, her knee in the small of his back.
“Talk,” she hissed into his ear, so close he could feel the heat of her breath on him.
“You’re a Nymph.”
“Fuck you,” she snarled, pushing more weight onto his back, making him wince with pain.
“My name’s Hunter,” he changed tack.
“Don’t care. Why are you following me you limey bastard?”
“Because you’re a Nymph.”
She ground her knee deeper onto his spine, letting him feel the bone on bone.
“I’m not fucking you. You’re a killer.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me up and I’ll explain.”
She pushed his face harder against the concrete, her reply perfectly clear.
“Fine. The Southland Slayer doesn’t exist,” he said.
“Taking credit now are ya?”
“It’s no one person. There’s a pack of them. I’m hunting them.”
“Trying to tell me I just fucked a serial killer?”
“No, you just fucked a vampire.”
Her grip loosened.
Hunter took the opportunity, and whipped his body round, wrestling from her grip and staggering to his feet. He leaned back against the wall, his wrists still bound, showing her he had no intention of moving again.
She was on her feet now, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“You’re full of shit.”
“You saw it with your own eyes.”
“I saw you stake someone through the chest.”
“And you saw that someone vanish.”
“Trick of the light,” she sniffed, then spat on the floor. He realised she was out of breath and trembling. “No such thing as vampires.”
“That’s technically correct. Not how you know them anyway.”
“You’re mental.”
“They’re Suckers. They fed on human blood, then discard the exsanguinated corpses when they’re done. Sound familiar?”
“Anyone can watch the news.”
“Two puncture wounds in the neck.”
She sniffed; that hadn’t been made public. Nor had the next thing.
“Acid burns to the face.”
“That thing wasn’t about to kill me,” she said, and she was right. “He was having too much fun. Then he was just exhausted.”
“That’s because you’re a Nymph.”
“Fuck. You.”
“It’s not an insult. You’re an actual Nymph. A demi God.”
She shook her head in disgust, and started to walk away. But she stopped after only a few paces, and sat on a garbage can. Hunter used the moment to test the strength of his restraints.
She looked at him, waiting for him to carry on talking.
“Ever since you came of age, you’ve needed sex every night.”
She shrugged.
“You get depressed if you don’t get it, and self-satisfaction is no solution.”
“We’ve all got needs.”
“Yours isn’t a need. It’s a must. Without sex, you can’t function.”
“I’m still not buying this.”
“And the Suckers, they’re drawn to you. They’ve been gathering here for months now, seeking you out, and tonight, one of them found you.”
“Sounds like any hook up site to me.”
“But they only know half the story.”
“The story you’re making up.”
“What they don’t know is that fucking you drains them of their life force.”
He flicked his neck, trying to slip the hood free from his head. He managed to get it half done, and she saw his face properly for the first time. He hoped she could see the sincerity in his eyes, but she was too angry and confused.
“So,” she said, stressing the single syllable for a long beat. “That, thing, would have died if it had kept going?”
“It’s already dead.” When she rolled her eyes, he quickly added, “But you were taking whatever it was that keeps it walking.”
“So I didn’t need you to intervene.”
“No,” he conceded. “But I needed to intervene.”
Her eyes asked the question.
“Because you don’t need what you were draining. I do. It keeps me going.”
“It gives you sustenance?” she spat the last word.
“Without it, I die.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m one hundred and forty three years old.”
“Fuck off.”
“Every time I kill one, I gain more time.”
“I’m gonna leave you here to rot,” she said, but didn’t move. It was clear she needed some proof though, and Hunter didn’t blame her.
“You know what kind of hold you have over men.”
“These help,” she said, grabbing her perfect tits and jiggling them.
“It’s more than that though, and you know it.”
“Men want what I need.”
“Exactly.”
“So what’s new?”
“Anyone ever turned you down?”
She thought about it, shrugged.
“You could get a guy to fuck you in front of his new bride at the altar.”
“Sounds fun.”
“And get the Vicar to join in. You know I’m right.”
It was a lot to digest, and she was taking her time, but he could see it was slowly sinking in.
“You killed it with a stake?”
“Yes.”
“Do they have reflections?”
“Yes.”
“Can they come out in the daylight?”
“Yes.”
“Garlic?”
“Nothing.”
“What’s with the acid burns?”
“It’s a venom, used to subdue the victim. Only after death does it burn.”
“And I’m a demi God?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck off.”
She got up and strode past him, heading back out to the street once more. He needed a kicker now.
“Your birthmark,” he blurted.
She stopped in her tracks, but didn’t turn around.
“If you don’t get any, it itches, and when you finger it, it’s the only thing that comes close to relieving your urges. But even then, it’s no way near.”
She said nothing.
“It’s on your hip. Shaped like a butterfly.”
With that she turned around and stared at him.
A gentle flexing of his biceps, and he pulled the plastic restraints in half, bringing his hands out to his sides.
“Everything I’ve told you is true.”
“Vampires?”
“Suckers.”
“Attracted to me because I’m a Nymph?”
“Yes.”
“But I’m bad news for them?”
“Yes.”
“And you feed off of them like they feed off of us?”
“Yes.”
“Here? In Los Angeles?”
“Yes.”
“Good night.”
She walked off and never looked back.
“Shit.”