Asil’s First Date Unappreciated Gifts #7
Finally the inevitable happened and Kelly put a foot wrong, crashing to the ground in a tangle of snow, tree root, and bush. He rolled until he could get some leverage for his feet, then crab-walked frantically backward until the solid trunk of a tree hit his back.
The vampire stayed where he was, laughing quietly—not out of breath at all. The only way Kelly could tell it was Bruce was Bruce’s suit, because the creature who wore it had only an incidental resemblance to the human he had aped.
Either his eyes were glowing or they caught the light of the moon differently than human eyes did—like the Siamese cat Kelly’s older sister had.
Red and shiny, they held him in a hungry grip more sure than the vampire’s hand on his wrist had been.
Flesh pulled away from the bones of Bruce’s face until no one looking at him would see anything but a monster.
If any doubt about Bruce had lingered (and it had), the fangs both delicate and sharp that Bruce was displaying were an answer.
“Not that I didn’t enjoy that,” the vampire said, “but we need to take care of business before Meg and Trace show up, don’t we? Never fear, Kelly, I won’t let Trace bully me, though it was good of you to be concerned.”
“I wasn’t actually worried about you,” Kelly managed with more bravado than he felt. “I just needed you outside.”
The vampire stilled. “Why is that?”
Sometime while he was running, it had started to snow again, and white flakes drifted to the vampire’s shoulders. The snow brought with it the deep feeling of silence that was so much more than just a lack of noise, a silence Kelly had only ever felt on a winter’s night in the woods.
Despite knowing that the dance venue couldn’t be more than half a mile away, Kelly felt as though they were the only beings here in the winter-embraced woods.
He heard nothing, sensed nothing that told him differently.
He had only Asil’s word that he was not alone in the night with the vampire.
Somewhat to his surprise, it was enough.
Kelly stood up slowly, keeping his back against the tree for support, because he wasn’t sure that his legs would hold him. There was a tear in the knee of his trousers—he’d have to have Meg sew him a new pair.
“I have a present for you,” he said, pleased that he sounded as cool and calm as James freakin’ Bond.
The vampire jerked his head to the side as a great shadow emerged from the darkness tucked under a thicket of leafless aspen. Before Bruce could move closer, the werewolf was upon him.
“Merry Christmas,” said Kelly, his voice lost in the roar of the attack.
He hadn’t actually seen Asil as a werewolf; apparently it wasn’t as fast as it was in the movies to change from human to wolf.
He wished Asil would stand still or that the sun was out so he could get a better look.
If he had to describe the werewolf right now, it would be golden eyes and huge.
Also fast and strong and graceful. And very, very huge.
The vampire looked like a toy in his jaws—not that the vampire wasn’t fighting back.
It wasn’t a noise that alerted him—the fight was unexpectedly loud—but his eyes were drawn away from the melee by some instinct. On the other side of the battling monsters, Meg stood with Trace. They were close enough to watch without becoming collateral damage—or so Kelly hoped.
Trace was a big guy, but Meg was three inches taller and a lot meaner. She had a hand on his neck as if she’d dragged him here. Not that Trace was fighting her hold right at this moment. Like Meg, his attention was all on the battle in front of them.
About ten feet from him, a smallish tree cracked, broken about four feet off the ground. Kelly didn’t see the hit that took it down. By the time he focused on the white inner wood of the dying poplar, the combatants were twenty feet away.
The vampire had freed himself from Asil’s jaws. He did something, maybe a kick, but he was moving so fast Kelly couldn’t really see it. But the wolf—Asil—let out a grunt and tumbled like a motorcycle wreck into the trees.
The vampire was a lot stronger than he looked.
Kelly had the thought, as Bruce threw himself on the werewolf, that maybe Kelly hadn’t broken out of his hold earlier. Maybe Bruce had let him go because he wanted the hunt. Kelly’s throat was too dry to swallow.
I will not let harm come to you, the werewolf had told him.
They moved fast, the monsters who fought. It was like trying to follow the beating of a fly’s wing—and the night’s heavy shadows didn’t help. Kelly blinked to relieve the eye strain, and while he had his eyes closed, it happened.
With a grotesque snap of bone, the vampire’s head popped off—popped freakin’ all the way off—and the only monster still moving in the woods was standing on the dead vampire’s body.
Kelly couldn’t see colors well in the dark, but the wolf’s muzzle was wet with something dark as he lifted his head to the moon and howled.
“Don’t move,” muttered Meg. “I mean it. Nobody move. Don’t meet his eyes, and if you do, go down to your knees and bow your head.”
“Werewolves are supposed to be friendly,” said Trace, trying to jerk out of Meg’s hold.
The werewolf who had been Kelly’s blind date focused his attention on Trace. Asil’s upper lip curled back, exposing fangs that were bigger and more dangerous-looking than the fangs of the tiger Kelly had seen yawning in a zoo when he was six. He’d had nightmares after that visit for years.
Trace had the same reaction as Kelly’s six-year-old self. His mouth dropped open and fear pulled his eyes wide in a cartoonish expression. “Holy shit. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Meg thumped Trace on the back of his head, sending him staggering forward because he wasn’t ready for it at all.
He landed in a graceless sprawl not ten feet from the werewolf and almost on top of the vampire’s head.
Trace lifted his head and got a face-to-bleeding-amputated-neck view of the vampire, made a squeaky noise, and passed out cold.
Asil climbed off the vampire, his body moving in a stiff and jerky caricature of the graceful power of his fight. Yellow eyes grabbed Kelly—and he was sure they were yellow, even in the darkness.
“Kelly,” said Meg urgently.
“He promised he wouldn’t hurt me,” said Kelly, and the wolf’s eyes focused on him. Unbearable pressure dropped Kelly as quickly as Meg’s shove had dropped Trace, and he bowed his head.
“We’ll do what we promised,” Kelly told the ground.
“We’ll explain to Trace that messing with other people’s dating lives is dangerous.
We’ll explain why knowing about vampires is even more dangerous and that he should keep his mouth shut.
We’ll talk to her uncle if there is a problem.
We’ll trust you to take care of the body. ” He paused.
I will not let harm come to you.
“Thank you for the most interesting date of my life,” Kelly told the wolf. “Much better than I expected when I started out to the restaurant today.”
When he looked up, the wolf was gone.
Dear Asil,
There was a body. But after some discussion we decided to give this one to you.
We owe you some leeway for our missing that Kelly was a boy, not a girl.
The body wasn’t your date—and arguably was dead when it became a vampire in the first place.
So preexisting dead bodies will not count against you.
No one ran screaming into the night—mostly because the person most likely to do that fainted.
Your first date was a success! We’re very proud of you.
Your second date has been arranged, two days from now. We chose the dating site . We did (while pretending to be you) tell her that you did not at this time have a pet cat because after your last one died, you couldn’t bear to replace it.
Be grateful. We had planned on using , but organizing a date for you with a woman who could not leave her prison cell was too much trouble, even for us.
Sincerely,
Your Concerned Friends
PS—Merry Christmas
Asil pinched his nose and laughed.