“I don’t think she’ll be able to resist hunting me after she watches this.”
So this explained the gloating. It wasn’t for me.
I stared into the camera lens.
My mother was safe, but Edythe wasn’t. I tried to think of anything I could do to stop this from happening, to keep that video out of her hands, but I knew I wasn’t fast enough to get to the camera before the tracker stopped me.
“I could be wrong about her level of interest,” Joss went on. “Obviously, you’re not important enough for her to decide to keep you. So… I’ll have to make this really offensive, won’t I?” She smiled at me, then turned to smile at the camera.
She stepped toward me, still smiling. “Before we begin…”
I’d known I was going to die. I’d thought I was prepared for that. I hadn’t considered any other version but this—she would kill me, drink my blood, and that would be the end.
There was a different version after all.
I felt numb, frozen.
“I’m going to tell you a story, Beau. Once, a long time ago, my prey escaped me. Shocking, I know! It only happened the one time, so you can imagine how it’s haunted me. It was a similar situation in many ways. There was a delicious human boy—he smelled even better than you do, no offense—but only one vampire protected him. It should have been a very easy meal. However, I underestimated the boy’s protector. When she knew I was after her little friend, she stole him from the asylum where she worked—can you imagine the degradation? Actually working a human job for your food?” She shook her head in disbelief. “As I was saying, she took him from the asylum, and once she freed him she made him safe. He was important enough to her, but then, he was special. A hundred years earlier he would have been burned at the stake for his visions. In the nineteen-twenties it was the asylum and the shock treatments. Poor boy—he didn’t even seem to notice the pain of his transformation. When he opened his eyes, it was like he’d never seen the sun before. The old vampire made him a strong new vampire, and there was no reason for me to touch him then, no blood to enjoy.” She sighed. “I destroyed the old one in vengeance.”
“Archie!” I breathed.
“Yes, your friend. I was so surprised to see him in the clearing. This is why I’ve told you my story—to bring them comfort. I get you, but they get him. My one lost quarry—quite an honor, actually.
“I still regret that I never got to taste…”
She took another step toward me. Now she was just inches away. She leaned her face in closer to me, stretching up on her toes so that her nose could skim up the side of my throat. The touch of her cold skin made me want to recoil, but I couldn’t move.
“I suppose you’ll do,” she said. “But not quite yet. We’ll have some fun first, and then I’ll call your friends and tell them where to find you—and my little message.”
I was still numb. The only thing I was starting to be able to feel was my stomach, rolling with nausea. I stared into the camera, and it was like Edythe was already watching.
The tracker stepped back and began to circle me casually, like she was trying to get a better view of a statue in a museum. Her face was still friendly as she decided where to start. And then her smile got wider and wider and wider till her mouth was just a gash full of teeth. She slumped forward into a crouch.
I didn’t see what part of her hit me—it was too fast. She just blurred, there was a loud snap, and my right arm was suddenly hanging like it wasn’t connected to my elbow anymore. The very last thing was the pain—it lanced up my arm a long second later.
The hunter was watching again now, but her face hadn’t gone back to normal, it was still mostly teeth. She waited for the pain to hit me, watched as I gasped and curled in around my broken arm.
Before I could even feel all of the first pain, while it was still building, she blurred again, and with more snapping pops, something knocked me back against the wall—the bar buckled behind my back and the mirrors splintered.
A strange, animal-like whine escaped between my teeth. I tried to suck in another breath, and it was like a dozen knives were stabbing my lungs.
“That’s a nice effect, don’t you think?” she asked, her face friendly again. She touched one of the spiderweb lines running away from where I’d hit the wall. “As soon as I saw this place, I knew it was the right set for my little film. Visually dynamic. And so many angles—I wouldn’t want Edythe to miss even one little thing.”
I didn’t see her move, but there was another tiny crunch, and a dull throbbing started in my left index finger.
“Still on his feet,” she said, and then she laughed.
The next crack was much louder—like a muffled detonation. The room seemed to fly up past me, like I was dropping through a hole. The agony hit the same time I hit the floor.
I choked on the scream that was trying to rip out of my throat, fighting through the bile that flooded my esophagus. There wasn’t enough air, I couldn’t fill my lungs. A strange, smothered groan seemed to come from deep inside my torso.
My body automatically coughed out the vomit so I could breathe, even though breathing felt like it was tearing my insides apart. The pain from my broken arm was throbbing in the background now—my leg was center stage. That pain was still peaking. I was splayed awkwardly on the floor in a pool of my own vomit, but I couldn’t move anything.