Knight Predator

For Carolyn . . . This would never have come out without you.

Rest in peace, my friend.

For Tammy . . . Who just won’t ever let me give up . . .

Thanks to Carrie for making me sound good and trimming all the excess baggage I’m so good at.

“MynameisBronwynHunterandI’mfiveyearsoldIliveat7Georges Road.”

I looked down at the puddle of little girl by the side of the road. It was early evening, and I was starving, just out cruising for a bite to eat. I dismissed her; she was a bit young for my liking.

Her luminous jade eyes were shadowed and tear-stained as she looked anxiously up at me, silky blonde hair disheveled, dirty pink dress pooled around her upper thighs, feet scratched and filthy in her once clean white sandals. There was a bubble of snot under one nostril, a testament to her distress. She sniffed mightily and her shoulders hitched as she sobbed again, clearly afraid.

What was a child that young doing out in the night by herself? Did I want to bother with a human child? Was it really my problem? Nope, I didn’t think so. So I made an effort to keep walking and set aside the small stab of sympathy and guilt that needled into me. I squared my shoulders and tried to ignore her.

From behind me, the little forlorn voice continued on. “Please?

Missus? MynameisBronwynHunterandI’mfiveyearsoldIliveat7Georg esRoad.”

My legs betrayed me and stopped moving. I tried to stop myself from doing it, but I had to turn around, go back to her, and squat down in front of her.

I sighed in disgust at myself. So much for being a cold-blooded killer.

I smiled carefully at the little girl. Her wide eyes were bloodshot and swollen from her tears.

“Well, BronwynHunter,” I said, my voice soft and low. “Why are you sitting by the side of the road?” It was something to say, more to make her trust me than anything else. She was obviously quite rattled and any misstep was bound to result in me chasing her all over the world, trying to get her home. I would end up missing my dinner, and that would not a good thing.

She yawned mightily. “Because I’m tired.”

Kids. Glad I never had any. What brilliant question could I ask next?

I sat in the gutter next to her, arms encircling my long legs. “Why are you tired?”

“Because I’ve been walking.”

“Where are you walking to?” It was a bit like playing Master-mind. Eventually I would hit on the right question, and all would be revealed.

“I’m trying to go home. I’m—I’m—I’m lost.” This was punctuated with a fresh bout of tears from her swollen and red eyes.

I knelt in front of her. “Hey.” I dug into the pocket of my black jeans, searching for a clean handkerchief. Personally, I didn’t need the things, but Mum always told me never to leave the house without one.

I leant forward with a comforting smile. I gently took her small head in my large hand and wiped her eyes a bit. I then held the handkerchief against her nose.

“Blow,” I instructed.

Like the obedient child she obviously was, she blew her nose into my handkerchief. When she was done, she threw herself into my arms, sighing, and gave me her hardest hug. Surprised, I hugged her back, trying not to notice her torrid, animal scent and the hot, throbbing veins in her neck.

After a few moments, I pulled back and looked closely at her.

“There.” I smiled, putting the gentlest expression I had in my eyes.

She answered with a hesitant smile and much drier radiant green eyes.

“Okay.” I blew out some air from my lungs. I no longer needed to breathe, but just the simple actions of pretending I was alive, sometimes let me think more clearly. It also stopped me from standing out in a crowd like a neon sign. “Your address is 7 Georges Road, right?”

She gazed at me solemnly and nodded.

“You want to go back home to Mummy, right?”

Again, she nodded, this time with more confidence.

“I think I can help you with that. Take my hand.” I stood up and held out my hand. She hesitantly slid her small hand in to my large one. I gently squeezed her hand, struck by the creamy warmth and soft smoothness of her child’s skin.

I started off down the old and pitted road, careful to shorten my long-legged stride so she could walk beside me. We had no sidewalk, so we made our bumpy way over darkened front lawns, careful to avoid mud, spider webs, and suspicious dark spots in the sometimes overgrown grass.

She glanced up at me, wide-eyed. “Your hands are cold. And they’re pretty hard.” She stroked the back of my hand and traced the outlines of my long fingers.

I chuckled softly, helpless at the barrage of comments and questions I had known would come from her as her confidence in me grew. “I know.” I hoped she wouldn’t ask me why my skin was alabaster and my burning blue eyes almost shone in the darkness.

She pulled me to a halt and peered up at me. “You’re pretty.”

I raised an eyebrow and looked down at the small face, which was now considerably happier than it had been not five minutes ago. I gave her a gentle smile. “Yeah? Thanks.”

I pulled her back into motion. The last thing I needed was for her to give her mum a vivid story about the friend who had brought her home. It would lead to questions about me, and I would no doubt be forced to run again. I’d only just settled in here, and I really liked the neighborhood. Nice and quiet during the day, just the way a vampire likes it.

She stopped and pulled a startled me to a halt again. I hoped each question she threw my way would not require a pause. Could she think and walk at the same time?

“MynameisBronwynHunter, what’s yours?”

Oh dear. What should I tell her? If I told her my real name, perhaps her mother would come looking for me to thank me, and I couldn’t have that. It would not do at all.

“Carlisle Crowley. My friends call me Crowley.”

“Can I call you Crowley?”

“Are you my friend?”

She looked at me with furrowed brows. Inwardly sighing, I realized my joke had gone way over her head. Well, she was maybe five after all, what was I expecting? Quantum mechanics?

“You’re
my
friend,” she said with an intensity that surprised me.

Her serious eyes were wide and trusting, completely without guile.

I didn’t know how to respond. I returned her solemn expression, while smiling inside. “Okay, then, call me Crowley.”

I led her through the quiet suburban streets, relishing in the power of the night and the beauty of the blackness, with her constant child’s chatter in the background. I found out all about her brother Tim and her best friend Amy, her boyfriend Robert, her Mummy, Daddy, and I think almost all of clan Hunter, including crazy uncle Edward who smelt “really bad” of baby powder. Somehow I ended up with her in my arms, keeping her warm. She yawned mightily as we approached her house, her soft breath teasing the sensitive skin of my throat. I struggled to remember to breathe so I looked like a living human being.

We finally reached the front gate of her house, and I leant down to undo the latch, with her soft snoring in my ear. It undid with a quiet snick that spoke of regular maintenance. The entire house and yard appeared to be in the same good repair. The house was newly painted, the garden beds weeded and freshly watered. I could see small plants in the rich earth all around the yard, markers indicating what grew there. I grinned and made my way up the neatly swept, cracked concrete path to the newly varnished front door.

I adjusted her weight in my arms, gently so as not to disturb her, freed a hand, and opened the screen door. I held it back with my foot while I knocked on the front door. I had to get in and out of the house as quickly as possible because my stomach was giving me hell. I needed to feed.

The porch light sprang on, making me wince and stagger back slightly in the unwelcome blaze of light. I blinked, trying to get rid of the spots that disturbed my vision, and Bronwyn awoke and looked all around without recognition.

The door was pulled wide open with a creak, and a young, pretty, well-dressed woman flew out, yelling for her daughter. Followed close on her heels was an equally young man, dressed in a clean polo shirt and blue jeans. He was pale and strained, pausing a moment to eye me with nothing less than full gratitude.

“Bronwyn! Bronwyn! Where have you been?” Mrs. Hunter pried the reluctant young girl from my arms. Bronwyn’s arms finally encircled her mother’s neck, squeezing tight, and she brayed sobs once more.

I stroked her back with a hesitant hand, feeling awkward, as Mr.

Hunter’s long arms encircled his family.

I smiled. It was nice to know my status as a vampire had not condemned me to a life of evil and torment, much to the potential disgust of the more religiously inclined in the general population.

There were tears of relief all around, and I turned to leave, feeling as though my presence was an intrusion. I needed to leave to resume my hunt for my evening meal. A large hand descended to my shoulder, and I turned, smiling pleasantly at Mr. Hunter.

He looked considerably more relaxed, but he still seemed to be shaking. He drew an unsteady breath. “I . . . I . . . I . . .”

“It’s okay,” I said softly. “I was out for a walk and I found her sitting by the side of the road.”

Mrs. Hunter appeared to notice me for the first time. She freed a hand and grabbed my arm. I allowed her to do it. It took a couple of attempts before her words came out. “I can’t thank you enough for this. We were out of our minds with worry.”

I smiled at her, wondering where the hell the police were. Surely they would have been called?

“We only noticed she was gone a little while ago,” Mr. Hunter said, as if reading my mind. “She was meant to be playing with her friend Robert and staying the night with him. His parents called to tell us she was gone and they were going to look for her.” He was babbling a little, but seemed to be calming down. He exchanged a relieved glance with Mrs. Hunter. “I was just about to go out and look for her as well.”

I nodded. “You have her back now.”

“Where did you find her?”

“I found her about an hour’s walk from here.”

Their eyes widened in shock.

“How on earth did she get that far?” Mrs. Hunter asked.

They eyed me, as though I could supply an answer. They’d have to ask Bronwyn.

I shrugged. She walked? “I have no idea.”

“I got lost. I tried to find my way home, but I got loster.” Bronwyn gazed at me with watery and trusting eyes.

I smiled at her. “Well, you’re not lost any more, are you?”

“No you’re not, thanks to your angel,” Mrs. Hunter cut in. She gave me a serious look that was eerily like Bronwyn’s. “I have no way to thank you enough for what you’ve done for us.”

I held up a hand, concerned about tea and scones or crumpets.

My stomach rolled uneasily, and I focused on her neck to try and settle it. It was a bad mistake. My stomach did a flip flop, and I felt my fangs with the tip of my tongue as I began drooling. I knew I had to get out of there before my bloodthirsty nature overran my manners.

“It’s fine. No worries. It’s my pleasure.” I followed that up with a broad smile.

Mr. Hunter stepped forward again. “Can we at least offer you a cup of tea?” He peered at me, and I had no doubt that my pale skin was causing no small measure of alarm. I longed for my natural element of darkness again.

“No, thank you. I was out for a walk because I haven’t been feeling well, and I thought I could use the fresh air. I’m afraid eating is a little too much for me at the moment.” I patted my stomach, hoping they would just drop it and allow me to go on my merry way. I was only half lying. If I ate their food I’d be retching before it even hit my stomach. Welcome to the world of vampires.

They both gave me another concerned look. Bronwyn stared at me.

“You want to go, don’t you?”

When I had died, I had lost the ability to blush, something that I was eternally grateful for, never more so than now. I nodded. “I really should be going home. I really should go back to bed.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Her parents leapt forward, ready to battle every imaginary germ in my body. They were hell bent on doing something nice for me, and I could hardly refuse them. Finally, I graciously gave in and allowed them to lead me into the house, which was as immaculate as the land it rested on. I hoped against hope that chicken soup would not be thrust at me.

It took what seemed an age, but I was finally allowed to leave, and in my wake were requests to drop by again, more gratitude and general well-wishing. By the time I left, I was ravenous, and it had taken all of my willpower not to drain every last drop of sweet blood from their animal bodies.

Just as I reached the front door, I heard the pounding footsteps of Bronwyn crashing up the hallway behind me. I turned and knelt in front of her so we were eye to eye.

She smiled at me and threw her arms around my neck for a hard parting hug. I returned it as gently as I was able. I desperately ignored her neck as I almost shook with my need for blood.