After a few minutes of self pity I turn around and head for the street, circling around the building to the front door. The Bloody Marys are still at the bar, but the vampires have moved. I find them quickly, over by the billiard table, and march over to stand at the end of the table as Brady circles it, searching for a shot.

“You didn’t follow,” I rest my hands on the table and lean against it. “Why didn’t you follow?”

“Why would I follow you?” Brady leans over the table, ready to take a corner shot.

“Because… I sent you the suggestive drink, and the message?” My tone has a serious dose of ‘DUH’ in it.

“Yeah,” Brady stands straight, pulling his attention away from the game and directing it all at me. “I was wondering about that, it was kind of weird. I really don’t get the tomato juice, and everyone knows who we are are; we’re on the football team.”

“No, she messed up the message. Not who you are but what you are!” I’m about ready to bang my head on the table when Brady’s eyes narrow on me and I can tell he’s beginning to understa-

“Football players?”

He doesn’t understand.

“Those were Bloody Marys. As in…” I raise a balled fist and hold it up in front of my face. Opening my mouth wide, I bare my teeth, hiss, then bite my wrist. “You know, bloody.“

Two and two finally click in Brady’s head and he drops the pool cue on the table as he moves around and approaches me, moving straight into my personal space bubble.

“What exactly do you think we are?” He looms over me. Brady is a full foot taller than me and built like a quarter back… because he is one.

“I didn’t want to have this talk in front of-” I raise my hands and motion to the room around us where all the people are. I lower my voice and speak quietly, conspiratorially, as I say, “the Normies.”

Brady looks back toward Cordelia and Jock 2.

“Yeah,” Jock 2 nods. “Maybe we should talk outside.”

“Exactly, follo-” Brady shoves me toward the back door before I can finish. I stumble a few steps before I get my footing and start walking. The others follow this time; I can hear their footsteps behind me.

I reach the door first and try to get back into position, but the others are right on my heels. I’m barely a few steps out the door when Brady grabs the shoulder of my coat and spins me around to face him.

“What exactly do you think you know about us?”

“Oh, I know a lot about you.” I grin showing him my practiced cocky smile. “I know about your kind, your predatory nature to-“

“Those charges were dropped!” Brady barks. “I never had to register!”

This stops me in my tracks. My smile vanishes and my nose crinkles as I try to process his words.

“What?” I shake my head as I can’t make the connection. “What charges, what are you talking about?” I trail off, unsure if I even want to know.

Brady realizes he’s jumped to the wrong conclusion and stands awkwardly, staring at me.

“Uh, nothing. That was something else, what are you talking about?”

“You’re a vampire,” Jock 2 cuts in with a heavy sigh. “They’re saying they know you’re a vampire.”

“How?” Brady turns his back to me, looking toward Jock 2 and Cordelia. “How could they know? You said no one knows of our existence?”

“I said not many people know of our existence. Those who do are usually hunters.” Jock 2’s eyes narrow as he looks me over. I feel oddly vulnerable as his gaze travels slowly up and down my body and I subconsciously shift my arms to cover my private bits.

Who are you, Jock 2? You know a lot for a fledgling. My research suggested there was an older vampire in the area feeding on students. The number of missing teens just screamed high-school vamp. I thought it would be a teacher, and these two were just dip-shit fledglings looking for a hot bite; but, maybe Jock 2 isn’t as young as he looks. He’s been at the school for a few years but some vampires will hang around for five or so years before moving on. If I just stumbled upon the big daddy vampire on my first night of the hunt then that would be perfect, considering the small time frame I have to work with.

“A hunter?” Brady turns back to eye me up and down as well. “Is that why you”re dressed like you just stepped off the set of some ‘straight to TV’ 80’s vampire hunter movie?”

“Ouch,” I clutch my heart in feigned pain, then shrug. “Got something against leather?”

“It’s not real,” Brady states with a heavy sniff. Leather and faux leather certainly don’t smell the same, especially to the senses of a vampire. “Don’t I know you from school?”

Brady might be a vampire, but he’s one of the newer ones. We’ve been going to the same schools since Kindergarten, though we never talked to each other. He was a jock and I was- well, I wasn’t a jock. I’m torn on whether I should be happy or not that he recognizes me. On one hand, most people who recognize me don’t do so for anything positive; not like I’ve been winning baking tournaments or anything. 

On the other hand; Oh Em Gee! The captain of the high-school football team recognizes me!

Do I twirl my hair and smile, or run like he’s paparazzi?

Brady raises a hand and jabs my shoulder with his index finger. 

“Yeah, you were arrested last year for murder, right? They sent you to a padded room when you kept telling everyone you were killing vampires.” He laughs for a second, but trails off quickly as he looks at his hands. “Shit, I guess you were telling the truth, I always thought you were nuts back then.”

“Do you like jokes?” I fish my lighter from my pocket and start flicking the lid open and closed at my side. “Why did the chicken cross the road?”

No one replies. Brady seems really thrown off by the question and stands there like a big, dumb, Sasquatch… no offense to Sasquatchai… Sasquatchi? Sasquatches? Whatever. Jock 2, meanwhile, pinches the bridge of his nose, probably wondering how he got into this situation.

“To go roast vampires!” I laugh. I don’t laugh so hard that I seem bat-shit crazy, but I definitely laugh harder than that joke deserves. The vampires are unmoved by my humor, which is perfectly understandable; it wasn’t a great joke. But that’s because they don’t know that it wasn’t the real punchline.

“Okay,” I let my laughter trail off into awkward silence. “That one didn’t land. Let me try a different one? Knock knock?”

Jock 2 rolls his eyes and throws his hands up.

“Do you think we’re stup-” he begins to say but Brady interrupts him with; “who’s there?”

I smile at Jock 2, cock a brow at Brady, and I deliver the killing blow.

“The chicken,” I raise the lighter to my face and suck in a deep breath. “Gishban!” When I exhale, the little flame of the lighter explodes into a roaring jet of flames that catch Brady off guard. Jock 2 throws Cordelia to the side, then blurs forward to yank Brady to the ground. I run out of breath and the fire dies out. Jock 2 is batting the flames off of Brady’s clothes. I grin and give him a wink, then my feet leave the ground and my back hits the wall. My hands quickly lock around Brady’s wrist as he holds me off the ground by my neck and I try to pull myself up to relieve the pressure from my windpipe.