Werewolves Don't Wear Cowboy Boots

Chapter 5: Do vampires play baseball?

Bridget grabbed hold of James' sleeve and pulled him down into the bushes along the sandy trail, wincing as she did so. Spiky branches scraped along any bit of exposed skin, and along with the pain, there was also the noise. If Mr. Baseball hadn't noticed them when he was driving up, it was possible the sound might give them away.

James crouched silently beside her, but he was watching her with eyebrows raised. "Not a friend of yours?" he said softly, nodding in the direction of the vehicles.

Colt circled the truck and kicked one of the tires, and Bridget held her breath as he scanned the darkness.

James, with an annoying lack of concern, continued to speak in a low voice. "Why are we hiding from him?"

Bridget looked at him sharply and motioned for silence, then let out a small sigh of relief when Colt started walking back to his car.

"He," she muttered to James, "is an asshole."

"Oh ... well ..." He shifted impatiently by her side, and she reached out to grip his arm as Colt popped back out of his car with a flashlight.

"Shit," she said quietly.

James made a quiet noise of agreement, then said, "I hope you weren't counting on staying hidden. These bushes aren't great cover. Also, our footprints will be pretty obvious in the sand."

Bridget stared at him, played with the notion of kissing him to make this all appear like two teenagers just making out in the sand, and then dismissed it just as quickly. Instead, she said, "Should we go back to the truck then?"

"Alright," James said lightly, then stood and offered her a hand up. They brushed themselves off as they walked back down the sandy hill. They'd taken only a few steps when the beam of the flashlight landed on them.

"I found your friend," Colt called up casually. The way he said it, Bridget thought, you would never have dreamed he'd just tried to assault her or that she'd possibly broken his nose not more than an hour ago.

"Did you?" Her own voice was cool but calm, not at all betraying the way she wished he had a second nose she could break. "That's grand, but I've found another ride."

Colt looked James up and down, somehow managing to look condescending without so much as a sneer. "Yeah, I guess so. Your friend is worried though, so I told her I'd give you a ride back. Less trouble for you, man." He addressed the last part to James, whose eyebrows were saying a great deal about just what he thought of that statement.

Bridget gave a laugh. "Oh, darling. You can fuck right off."

His eyebrows drew down and he opened his mouth, looking for all the world as if he were about to give her quite the telling off. Then his eyes flicked briefly to James, and he smiled crookedly at Bridget, the attempt somewhat less than convincing. "Aw, there's no need to be like that, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart?" She pointed a finger at him, ready to let him know exactly what she thought of him, when James stepped between them.

"Look, I think we should all just call it a night, before-"

And then Colt hit him, and Bridget froze as the force of the blow slammed James back against his truck. After she'd seen the boy whine about a tiny thing like a bloody nose, she'd never anticipated he might have that kind of strength in him. She took a step back as she realized it wasn't, in fact, the sort of strength a human should have. No sooner did she have the thought than Colt grinned, showing off his teeth as fangs slid into place.

Bridget thought a whole string of curse words, glancing toward James. If he was conscious at all, he certainly didn't give any indication of it. She took another step back. "There are plenty of girls at that part for you to harass," she said lightly, pretending not to notice the fangs. "Why don't you go bother them?"