Those That Were

Chapter 5

Bryson sat outside for a few minutes after his shift as he waited on his ride. Breathing in the crisp, night air was wonderful. Even in the city, he could still smell hints of nature from the forests a few miles away. But of course, he had a good nose. The city was muggy tonight, but it was thankfully cooler than usual. It felt so good that Bryson honestly wouldn't have minded running home. He wouldn't even have minded running farther  than home.

He couldn't, though. As wonderful as a nighttime run through the forest would be, he wasn't about to risk it. He was smart enough to know that his usual trails would likely be occupied --either by werewolves looking for him, or by humans looking for him. By what he could tell, he was a topic of interest. Ah, he was more than that actually. In fact, it seemed to be the biggest story since those college kids had broken into and vandalized the old Helen Keller house nearby a little over three months ago.

Like hell he was going to be caught by the raving population. Bryson would have to stay at home and hope that no one showed up at his doorstep. Hope was the key word. In the forefront of his mind, he wished he'd been spotted more than a few miles away from his house.

And then, to save him from his thoughts, a shiny, black Honda pulled into the lot and parked right beside where he was sitting. He only took a second to stand and open the passenger door. Amelia sat in the driver's seat. The first scents that hit Bryson's nose were blood and hints of subtle, feminine perfume. Amelia wore a dress of deep red and her mouth was a painted red rose petal. Bryson raised a brow.

"Hunting?" he asked casually. It wasn't unnatural for a vampire to beautify him or herself in order to catch their prey easier. Humans tended to flock more to those who were fair in appearance --actually, that could be said for wolves too.

She chuckled. "No. I haven't fed yet. I was visiting with some of my brood-father's friends over in the city earlier. They were... well, nourishing themselves. And good God, don't call it hunting. I hate that. You make me sound like some rabid animal running wild in the forest and chewing madly on my game of choice."

Bryson raised a corner of his mouth along with an eyebrow. She seemed to catch what she'd said seconds after the words had left her mouth.

"Oh, I didn't mean that," she quickly countered. "There's nothing wrong with, well, being an animal."

"I take no offense," he said without a thought. "Relax. I'm pretty laid-back. Anyways, why didn't you feed with them? Can I call it that?"

"You may," she answered, "And because none of the ones brought in were very... well, appetizing. My, that makes me sound like a monster, doesn't it? I don't hurt people, I swear it." Her eyes were wide, and she seemed to take care not to look at Bryson at that moment in time.

He shook his head. "If I assumed otherwise, I would not be in your car. And it doesn't make you sound like a monster. I've heard worse, believe me. You'd do well to know that you're speaking to a guy that chews on animal carcasses on some nights. If you think you're the only one in this car who enjoys the taste of fresh blood, then you're wrong."

She only smiled and took what he'd said in stride. "Do you know why  you're in my car?"

"Only if you tell me."

"Nothing sinister," she promised, "it's just... I believe we should be friends. Your aura is a kind and sensible one. That's rare around here."

Reading auras. That was one of the things a vampire could do. They could read people and werewolves like books in that way. They could judge who was susceptible to charm and persuasion. They could judge the fearful. It was one of the vampire's predatory talents, alongside the dangerous chemicals in their fangs.  If that wasn't enough though, vampires were strong --stronger than humans and nearly as strong as the werewolves. It was an odd strength, though. It was one that was derived less from their muscles and more from the tireless endurance that came from being one of the undead.