Welcome to Tales from the GrimVerse: Grim & Bare It – Killion’s POV, an urban fantasy novel I’m republishing with scenes from the original story but told from the Master Vampire’s point of view.
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The streets glistened like onyx, slick with rain. The cloying odor of dank alleys and wet leaves clouded the air. Humans were few and far between on this street, the drizzly night dampening the turnout for the parade a few blocks over. Only brave—or drunk—souls wandered about, unaware of those like me who hunted them. The rest listened to their survival instincts and stayed inside.
With an unusual exception.
A hundred yards away, a young woman flicked the beam of her flashlight under bushes and up into skeletal tree branches, searching for something. A lost cat, if my mind-reading skills were accurate. They were, but her thoughts were chaotic and disorderly, a deluge of random facts, conversations, and ideas: The cat’s name, the bath she’d abandoned to come search for it, annoyance with her landlady, her work schedule…it went on and on.
One of the things I found fascinating about mundanes—humans without magic—was their penchant to survive against all odds. Examples like this woman proved my point—they were rarely able to hold a single thought for more than seventeen seconds. After three hundred years as a half-vampire, half-human hybrid, I’d tracked this and other minutiae about them.
In my youth, I had been fixated on what made humans human. I’d wished to fit in somewhere, being neither fully like them, nor like my Undead father, descended from a long line of elite vampires. Yet, I’d found no tell-tale secrets or hidden keys to unlock the mystery. Humans were the most imperfect species I’d ever met.
This female in particular was…interesting.
“The perfect night for a murder,” she murmured, peering down into a ditch.
Indeed it was.
My heightened senses zeroed in on her from my seat at the table outside Boozy’s Bar, her low, smoky voice sending a sense of recognition through me. Yet, I was sure we’d never met. My nostrils flared, inhaling her scent. Under her shampoo and the lingering bath salts, I smelled…coffee grounds?
Perhaps that’s why she triggered the idea I knew her. While being half-vampire required me to drink blood, I also enjoyed mundane food, such as coffee. I took in her wet hair, jacket slick with rain, and her pale face. Nothing about her features registered with me. Was she someone from my past? Had she changed her appearance? I breathed deeper.
She called the cat’s name, offering a treat. Her intoxicating scent, combined with that sexy voice, made me reel. The essence of it danced at the edges of my awareness, teasing, taunting. I couldn’t name it, yet it tugged at something deep and ancient inside me. She wasn’t mundane, though her appearance and scattered mental energy suggested differently.
I had instinctively cataloged every supernatural I’d ever met, and now my mind raced through them, attempting to pinpoint classification, breed, and genus.
I came up blank.
She was more than interesting. She was…
Nothing I’d ever encountered before.
In three hundred years of experiences from all around the world, that was saying something. Not witch, not shifter, not a magical worker of any kind, yet she caused something inside me long dead to rise up. To come to attention. Something I’d believed under my control.
Until this moment.
The beast inside me opened an eye. Curious. Hungry.
Mine.
I shook off the thought, along with the haze that fell over my vision, swallowing down the blood thirst tightening my throat. Tonight, I needed to complete a job for Soul Management Group, the organization that handled death and reincarnation. I wasn’t out seeking a blood donor or willing partner to slake my lust. Whoever this female was—whatever she was—I would figure it out later. Tonight, I was a killer stalking a killer.
My beast snarled with anger. I’d need to give him something to tear into in place of tasting the woman.
With Halloween a week away, store owners and groups of students from the local college had been donning costumes, allowing the creature I tracked to blend in. Dubbed The Grim Reaper, the nickname was more accurate than they realized. The serial murderer was indeed a grim, taking full advantage of the time of year to get away with stalking innocent women. It was my assignment to stop him and discover who the others were working with him.
At the corner, cold drops fell from an ancient oak, striking the unknown woman in the face and making her flinch. Glancing both ways before crossing the street, she shivered and called to the cat with a note of aggravated impatience. Her voice sent another ripple through me.
The thirst rose again, a fire ripping through me. I sipped at my wine, images of her neck bared to me, flashing through my mind. The beast sat up, eager. Clawing for its meal.
As if she sensed the danger nearby, her gaze snapped to me.
The bar still had lights on and I was the lone person at the outside tables. The sickly yellow glow from the outdoor burners partially illuminated the area, my hair damp from the drizzle but my topcoat and pants dry thanks to my magic. Pretending not to notice her stare, I wrestled with my mounting desire. She had to be human, the essence of her blood an anomaly. Logic ruled out any other reason.
How long had it been since one of the mundanes had caused me such a reaction?
It’s her scent, I told myself. The off-ness of it. The blood in her veins might run red, but there was a thread of power—of life and death—beneath it that called to me. A living thing that I had to ignore.
The drink in front of me could not quench my thirst nor dull my attraction to her scent. My fingerless gloves toyed with the stem as I kept my focus on the glass, doing my damnedest to tame my beast. Registering her presence was one thing; the fact she continued to size me up, the weight of her scrutiny warm and malleable on my face, my body, made every restraint I had ache to be unleashed. The beast strained against its leash.
All the more reason to keep myself in check. Ignore her. Appear to be engrossed in the horrid liquid the bar passed off as fine wine.
No grim costume—her thought was full of relief.
While she had plenty to fear from that killer, the monster inside me was far more of a threat at the moment. I never lacked self-control these days, yet I discovered I was unable to resist her stare. I raised my gaze.
The eye contact caused an exhilarating current to yank taut between us. Her face was beautiful; her blue-green eyes haunted. What has caused you so much pain?
That tug twitched and rose, powerful as an ocean wave. I tracked the movement of her throat as she swallowed. It was all I could do not to moan.
Mine, my dragon crooned.
She seemed to draw into herself, her mind slowing. It was so easy—too easy—to listen to her thoughts, including those about me.
Those eyes…
Mine were unusual shade of purple, a gift from my mother.
The woman’s natural instinct, that survival gene we all possessed, made her jerk her gaze away and pick up her pace. As she passed the last of the burners, she saw a female standing in the shadows, watching me. Her thoughts tripped over themselves again at a rapid pace, moving as swiftly as her feet. She knew not to hesitate, yet feared for my safety, considering for one beat of her gentle, to-soft heart if she should warn me.
The corner of my mouth threatened to turn upward at that thought. I clenched my jaw and squelched it. Along with ignoring the one watching me, who was of no consequence, I shut down my libido.
A second female human approached, heels clacking on the sidewalk. Her skirt stopped well above her knees and the boots she wore jingled with each step, metal embellishments flashing. I’d been watching this one—Darcy Haynes, a local college sophomore who spent her evenings cruising the bars, rather than studying. The exact profile The Grim Reaper loved. “Hey,” she said. “Chloe, right? That chem test was murder last week, wasn’t it?”
Chloe. A sweet, innocent name. The chaos in Chloe’s mind ramped up. As if my own semi-immortal heart had become entrained with her pounding one, I felt mine pump for the first time in a decade.
I listened carefully as she mentally tried to recall Darcy’s name. Searched her mind for anything that might allow her to save face. “Totally,” she answered awkwardly. “Chemistry isn’t my favorite.”
So Chloe was also a student. I tucked that piece of knowledge away.
Darcey made a disgusted face, then became chipper again. “You headed to O’Malley’s? Three-for-one on beers.”
Potential names flitted around in Chloe’s head. Barbie? Billie? She nodded, as though it sounded like a great time. Cheap drinks, drunk college students, and mind numbing small talk. What could be better? “I’m searching for my landlady’s cat. You didn’t happen to see any wayward gray tabbies, did you?”
“No, but you have to come to the parade. Everyone will be there.”
“Parade?”
Darcy tilted her head, frowning. “Over on King Street for Fall Fest.” This was said with a mixture of duh and anticipation. “I’m meeting Larson and we’re going to watch from the balcony of his dad’s shop. Then we’re going to O’Malley’s.”
Shifting to look around her, Chloe scanned the area for the feline. A Miss Pickles. “Sounds fun. Enjoy.”
A pouty face was Darcy’s response. “You’ll come by after you find the cat?”
Chloe nodded with fake enthusiasm. “You had me at three-for-one beers.”
She gave a squeal and jumped up and down. “I want you on my team for the trivia game.”
Chloe’s eyes narrowed. “Why is that?”
Another duh expression flitted over Darcey’s features. “You’re the smartest girl in school.”
Her skirt flipped up as she trotted off to find her date, and Chloe shook her head, watching her for a moment. Her mind listed all the things Darcy didn’t have to worry about. She probably doesn’t work two jobs to support herself. A Friday night getting drunk is a highlight in her college career.
As Darcy neared the outdoor dining area, she turned back to Chloe. “Hey, do you tutor?”
“No,” Chloe called quickly, trepidation rippling under her skin as she noticed me observing the interaction.
Darcy, I told her telepathically. I couldn’t help myself. Something made me want to assist her. Help her. Her name is Darcy Haynes.
Her jaw dropped as she stared at me. She shivered visibly.
Darcy was walking backward, paying no attention to where she was headed—which was right into my table.
“Look out!” Chloe yelled.
I raised a hand and made a swift motion, a gust of my magic catching her, her body shifting away from me. She yelped, stumbling slightly, then glanced around, confused. Righting herself, she brushed at her skirt and gave an embarrassed laugh. “Hey, handsome,” she said to me.
I zeroed in on my glass once more, stroking the stem. I needed her to draw out The Grim Reaper, but at that moment, she was in my way. An annoying fly, buzzing about.
“You better get going,” Chloe told her, seeming to sense my impatience. “Don’t want to be late.”
Recovered, Darcy waved at her. “Come find me when you get there!”
Feeling Chloe’s stare once more, I pointedly raised his eyes. I enjoyed the flash of challenge in her eyes and took her measure as swiftly as she did mine.
She offered a hesitant smile and everything in me went still as the night. I wanted to lick my lips, invite her over, but no—I had to stay on course, or another human would die tonight. Possibly Darcey. Forcing myself to remain frozen, I dismissed her with a cold, hard glare.
A mix of disappointment and relief speared through her. Pivoting, she took off, her mind iterating that she was tired and hungry and wanted to get back home. Jogging the last bit to the park, she disappeared from sight.
I breathed in her lingering scent and caught something else in the air—The Grim Reaper. Leaving my wine and a generous tip, I slipped into the night, sure that Chloe and I would meet again.
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Keep the story going! Join my Magic Bites Membership and get more Killion and Chloe, as well as episodes from the Kali Sweet Chronicles (urban fantasy). Next up in Episode 2 – Killion saves Chloe from death! https://mistyevansbooks.com/category/magic_bites_membership