The Vampire Always Bites Twice | Wattys 2022 Grand Prize Winner

21

Isla, Alone in a Crowd

Okay, well, that was both wine glasses down the hatch and still no Greg. What the heck? That interrogation was going well. I thought. Britney wouldn't have given him more than a kiss on the cheek without my feminine touch. Prick.

Shit, it was cold. I hugged myself, wiggling my butt deeper into the booth. See? I listened. I stayed put. Instead of getting my jam on in the dancing crowd I was freezing my tits off alone at this table. Where was that skinny vamp at? Or, you know, at least a server so I could get another drink. Maybe some cocktail shrimp.

Scanning the crowd from here proved useless. Lights flashed. Bodies swayed. The music was so loud I could feel my eyeballs vibrating.

"Evening."

My knees banged the table. "Son of a witch!"

The vamp that approached me tsked. I knew he was a vamp cause, well, the club was full of them. Plus, my chills reached teeth chattering intensity when his eyes roamed by body, a little too liberally for my liking. He was attractive, I'll give him that. Taller than Greg, brunette, Mediterranean bronzed skin, curly chest hair visible through his open shirt because apparently the laws of vampire fashion ignore dressing for the weather.

"Such fiery language," he said, voice velvety smooth and vaguely sounding like he was doing a poor Gomez Addams impression. "Need a drink to cool it down?"

He placed an anti-freeze-shade-of-blue cocktail on the table.

"I'm with someone." I took the pineapple garnish to munch on and slid the rest of the cocktail back to him, avoiding eye contact.

The vamp stepped closer, taking a big ole whiff of the air above my head. I cringed. The booth was small and I couldn't physically press myself any farther out of his reach.

"I've always thought lies were unbecoming of a lady," he smirked. "But playing hard to get is cute. I'm Leo."

"Piss off, Leonard."

He grabbed my wrist. Tight. His vampy fingers hard and cold as steel around me. Every twitch of his pinky threatened to snap my bones in half. But still, I didn't meet his eyes. Greg had enthralled me with only a look. I wasn't aiming to make the same mistake twice. And I could sense it. Leo would be a mistake.

"Hey bitch," said Leo, his accent fading. "Got a problem with nice guys? Cause I can be real mean if that's what you're into. Any vampire in here can tell that you don't already belong to someone, baby. Look at your neckline? Don't tell me you aren't game."

"That how you sweettalked her?"

Leo bared his fangs. A thin string of saliva fell into one of my empty wine glasses. "Who?"

A gaunt woman loomed over Leo's shoulder. Her corset was tight. Her opulent gown torn to shreds, floating about her like she was underwater. Long, dark hair hung to her waist in tangles. Her fingers were boney. Her cheeks hollow. Eyes sunken. A bright red waterfall of blood poured from her torn neck, dissolving into mist as it surged to the ground around her bare feet.

"You know, dark hair, corset. Uh, like, yea tall," I said, leveling my hand with the ghostly woman.

Her attention—grey, angry, haunted eyes—snapped to me. Her lips quivered. Those grey eyes welled with tears. She jabbed a finger at Leo's back.

"Please. Please tell my master I didn't leave her. Harriet didn't leave her. I was taken. He stole me!"

Shit. What's it Greg said last night? I've been made.