Taste of Crimson

Every fiber in her body began to tremble. Goosebumps laced her arms and legs like an early autumn frost, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end. It wasn't from the small blasts of snow blowing in from the front door every time a customer staggered outside for a quick smoke, and it wasn't from the thinness of her polka dot nylons, black heel boots, and sweater-dress that reached just below her ass that chilled her body from winter's treacherous kiss.

No.

It was something more than that, something more subtle, although something that Andria Davis couldn't ignore.

Call it a hunch, call it a paranormal premonition; whatever it was, it was most definitely coming from the handsome couple seated at the opposite side of the bar, who seemed more interested in pressing their lips to each others' mouths, necks, and shoulders rather than finishing off their fifth round of shots.

Andria watched the woman brush a short strand of hair away from her face before giggling at whatever the man said, who looked at her with sea-green eyes and bronzed features that stood out despite the short layer of stubble on his cheeks, and the reddish, sandy mass of hair that was pulled back at the nape of his neck. His thick eyebrows shaded his narrow eyes and his nose and jawline looked firm and solid. His arms were long and his shoulders wide from behind the black sports coat and button-down white shirt that fit tightly to reveal the obvious muscles underneath.

He was no doubt handsome, far too handsome to entertain the short blonde at his side, who was wearing a too-tight blouse and too loose pants that showed off the crack of her tits and ass every time she moved. Her short blonde hair was puffed up high on top her head that made her small eyes and petite features stand out.

She was pretty enough, Andria thought to herself, but most definitely no comparison to her date, who looked more like a bold, barbaric model from the medieval time era.

Andria shot the couple another sly glance before moving a few inches closer to place her tips in a jar at the end of the bar counter. She had hopes of overhearing their conversation, or perhaps get a better reading on the couple before her mind went completely bizarre upon recognizing the first presence of paranormal energy that seemed to encircle around the chatty pair of lovers.

She no more moved a few anxious steps before a half-drunken man slammed his empty glass on the counter in front of her. "Refill, please."

Andria faked a smile and reached for his glass, but the man was quicker to snatch a hold of her hand before she had time to blink.

"Thank you, darlin'." His large hand consumed her own as he gave her arm a slight tug forward. "How much do I owe you?" He asked as he began moving his thumb over her knuckles in a slow, deliberate path of yearning.

Andria narrowed her dark, almond-shaped eyes at the overly courageous man seated from across the bar. "That depends. It's five dollars for the drink." She answered with a snap, and then abruptly twisted her wrist free to grab a hold of his. "For anything else it'll cost you your life." With a quick jerk she slammed his wrist down on the counter and pushed hard on the back of his hand until his fingers nearly touched the inside of his arm.

"Shit!" The man shouted. He jerked his arm free and glared at her from behind a full beard and burly features that looked far too rough to compete with his designer suit and overcoat. "To hell with you, bitch!" His continued to shout as he grabbed a hold of his brief case and stormed through the crowd of both curious onlookers and oblivious dancers, who cared far too much about their off-beat tempo to take notice of a passing stranger.

Andria sucked in a deep breath and watched him go. Consequences of embarrassment or possibly losing her job never crossed her mind, even as a few gazing customers threw cash onto the counter and hurriedly made their way toward the door.

She happily watched them leave before gathering up the ones and five dollar bills and turning to place them inside the tip jar. But before she moved to take another step she locked eyes with the handsome man seated from across the bar.

He was staring at her, as if he had been watching her the entire time. His eyes were narrow and calculating, his lips pursed firmly together, and his hands gripping tightly around the small glass of ice and vodka that was laid out before him.

His date, on the other hand, was too busy rummaging through her purse and applying a new layer of bright red lipstick to even notice Andria standing directly in front of her.

Andria sucked in a sharp breath before quickly averting her eyes. She knelt down to grab a bar towel and wasted no time on making her way to the opposite side of the club. She kept her back to the couple and pretended to look busy as she wiped down the alcohol-smeared counter tops and rearranged chairs and stools that were now vacant.

She worked only a short time before feeling brave enough to glance over her shoulder to steal another peek at the mysterious man, who Andria had been foolish enough to allow him to notice her. But with a quick, subtle glance Andria pursed her gaze forward to watch him throw a few dollars on the counter before turning to follow the woman toward the door.

Like a true gentleman, he helped his date slip into her coat before holding open the door. There, before following closely in the woman's wake, he looked up to lock gaze with Andria for the second time.

His sea-green gaze was both chilling and warm, and all Andria could think about was the crippling wave and paranormal energy that swept through the entire club upon his presence.

The man seemed to take in her stare, briefly, although thoroughly. He seemed to be studying her, if only for a few short seconds. And with a paralyzing, arrogant, I-know-what-you're-thinking smirk that nearly sent Andria to her knees from both fear and a dark, perilous want, he disappeared into the night.

The music blared loudly all around her and a sudden chill crept down her spine. Something was wrong; she could feel it. There was an eerie shudder of fear clenching at her stomach and Andria knew right away she had to follow him.

Casually glancing across the bar to the overly crowded dance floor, Andria slowly made her way through the crowd after concluding that her co-worker was too busy pouring shots for a group of young women to pay her any mind.

Trying her best to remain unnoticed, Andria reached the small, one-room office at a slow, steady stride, where she wasted no time on grabbing her coat and Glock, and making her way out the back door.

The night was cold and dark. Snowflakes were beginning to form in the sky and soft gray clouds prevented the stars from casting streams of light onto the vacant sidewalk. Andria had little trouble blending into the shadows of tall, shoulder-to-shoulder buildings that were made of solely brick on either side of the street.

She pressed her back flat against the south side wall of another local, downtown club that was teeming with bright lights, loud music, and cheerful laughter. She ignored it all; everything, except the man and woman who had been seated at the bar no more than five minutes ago.

She had seen him there before, although he had come alone. He had seated himself at a far-away table and casually nursed a glass of straight vodka, while seeming to search the crowd of drunken women and overly possessive men, who took turns staggering in and out from off the street.

Andria wouldn't normally pay the stranger any mind, even considering his remarkably good looks that were far too unnatural for the average male to possess. Still, she didn't bother stealing a second gaze.

Until tonight.

He was no longer the mysterious man who seemed to casually enjoy the night-time atmosphere of the city life and who happened to tip well.

No.

Tonight, he had become something more...something dangerous.

The very moment Andria locked eyes with the man something unnatural shifted in his sea-green eyes. The color remained the same, as did the shape and the particular hues of lights, but his direct gaze had seemed to swallow her own was something alarming and disturbing...unnatural. And his scent, like honey with a twist of orange citrus that was far more exotic than any cologne.

But it was also something more, something darker, something masked with a strange-like scent that reeked of ancient activity that hadn't been performed in centuries.

It was something paranormal; Andria knew that much. If the hereditary line from her grandfather had given her anything it was the keen and accurate gift of determining peculiar behavior and the too perfect appearances from both men and women that were all too certain from another world.

Andria knew a secret that had been passed down from her great grandfather, to her grandfather, and now to her. Her father, however, thought his family to be crazy, and had diligently worked to deny Andria any communication with either man.

But one cold, lonely winter many, many years ago Andria had crept into the attack out of pure boredom and discovered the diary of her grandfather, who had written down all the tales of his adventures while hunting the 'others', or so he called them, who were from a world far, far beyond the human realm of understanding.

Andria had grown obsessed with the diary. And at the age of fifteen she had left home in search of the old man she had never known to exist.

And for fifteen years Andria had done nothing but strive to learn everything from her grandfather, the man she now loved above all others. He had given her everything: love, wealth, respect, encouragement, and above all a purpose.

Andria had always suspected herself to be different. She had never understood her calling in life until she had met her grandfather, who had eagerly enlightened her world to a whole new meaning outside the normal activities of human beings.

She was a vampire hunter; the role was passed down from generation to generation, and the honor of fulfilling her purpose in life was merely protecting her fellow humans from the vicious breed of demons who haunt the night and prey upon the living.

Andria licked her lips with anticipation as something very close to fear coursed through her body like a raging forest fire. She breathed heavily, keeping her eyes solely locked on the man and woman strolling nonchalantly under the bright city lights.

She followed them for several blocks to a more remote area that was nearly as unnerving as the dark haze of clouds floating directly above her.

Instinctively, Andria reached to grasp frozen fingers around the Glock she had tucked far away in the pocket of her coat. She had made certain before leaving the club that it was loaded, but Andria had destroyed enough vampires to know that bullets would only halt a powerful vampire for only a short period of time. Unfortunately for Andria she had no plan, no back up, nothing else to use as a weapon. She was on her own, and she was running out of time if she planned on rescuing the poor, oblivious woman from the clutches of an 'other' before she turned into a rotting pile of blood and bones.

Considering the woman's death was not an option, Andria smiled with confidence as she watched the couple turn a sharp corner to disappear into the murky night. She waited, hesitantly contemplating her next course of action. She could sneak through the nearby alley and cut him off from the opposite direction, but she couldn't shoot him in plain sight; there were too many bystanders to witness his death, including the woman at his side who would no doubt scream the moment Andria revealed her weapon.

No. She much preferred to kill her enemies in private.

With a nervous flick of her long auburn hair that draped heavily down her back, Andria peeled herself off the wall and stepped out into the shimmering rays of moonlight. She kept her distance, although followed the couple in utter silence as they slowly made their way down the street.

Watching them turn yet another corner that led down a dark, narrow alley into an even more remote part of town, Andria eased her footing and slowed her pace, all the while keeping her breathing calm and steady.

She followed closely in their wake, stepping into the tall shadows on either side of the high apartment buildings with grave hesitation. She was careful not to make a sound, to keep her breathing firm and shallow, and to keep her scent as remote as possible. Quietly, she shimmied out of her coat, only to leave it lying on the cold, damp, and smelly ground of the alley she had entered in order to more thoroughly track her prey.

Closing her hands into determined fists, she narrowed her eyes and continued through the alley with a steady pace that had her walking directly in the man's wake. He didn't once turn around or seem aware of her pursuit, but Andria hadn't killed over thirty vampires by being foolish enough to underestimate them.

They were always dangerous, even when completely intoxicated. And Andria wasn't about to take chances, no matter how handsome, especially when she was attempting to rescue a victim that might soon become a quick meal on heels.

After a few short moments had passed, Andria watched the vampire and his clueless date disappear below the dim, overhead lights of a tall apartment building that looked as daunt and unnerving as the very man who was pulling apart the double-wide doors in a gentlemanly-like manner, to first allow the woman to step inside.

There, mixed with moonlight and the dim, flickering rays of yellow heat from the overhead lamps, the man's long hair blew gently against the timid current of the wind. The forming snowflakes had landed upon his head and shoulders, his narrow eyes fixed on the woman staggering through the door before they quickly shifted to gaze off into the night.

He wasn't looking directly at her, but he was definitely looking in Andria's general direction. A faint prickle of fear stabbed her heart just before he turned around and stepped inside.

Andria pressed herself hard against the cool brick walls of the alley. She strained her eyes to peer inside the decrepit, four-story apartment building that looked as if no one had lived there for years. Needless to say, it was in poor condition. There were few blinds covering the windows, leaving little to the imagination if someone happened to be looking in at the tenants who lived there. And from what little she could see of the winding stairwell, it led up to the second, third, and forth floors that appeared to be covered with particles of trash and debris that lay spread across its narrow, uneven steps.

Andria grimaced with disgust, detesting the very idea of entering the filthy building. Hell, even prisons lived in better conditions than this pathetic, ghostly excuse for a home.

But there was no turning back.

She had a job to do, one that might very well save a life and end another if she handled the situation properly, like a true hunter her grandfather would be proud of.

Andria sucked in a determined breath before proceeding toward her destiny. She walked with haste toward the back of the apartment building. After concluding which window would lead her directly inside the vampire's apartment, Andria tucked the Glock behind the strap of her boot and climbed up the feeble ladder that was attached to the outside wall by rusty iron brackets that made her feel less gallant than only a few short moments ago.

She swayed in the open air and her skin crawled with goosebumps until she finally made her way up the ladder and onto a balcony that overlooked the entire alley. Swinging her leg over the narrow ledge, Andria stretched her body along the wall until her feet collided with the windowsill. After a few silent curses and several awkward maneuvers that made her heart leap with uncertainty, she managed to lift open the window to finally step inside.

There were no lights on inside the apartment, nothing to indicate that the vampire had arrived. She had entered into the bedroom, which was pitch dark and smelled of damp, rotting wood and unique cologne that was cloaked in majestic, worn power that was just as devastating and ruthless as the man who claimed it.

Andria's hands trembled as she moved across the small room until she reached the door. Without so much as breathing, she removed the Glock from her boot and pushed open the door. She was greeted with more darkness, and the overwhelming scent of ancient male power flooded the tiny area with an irritable stab of warning.

Andria narrowed her eyes and managed to sort through the darkness to find a lamp resting on top of what appeared to be a book shelf. She held tightly to her Glock as she moved closer toward the lamp. But before she could turn the nob she tripped over something hard and practically fell into the book shelf.

"Shit." She swore aloud, catching two books between her chest and elbow before they crashed to the floor. She quickly put the books back and steadied herself before switching on the lamp.

There wasn't much to see. A definite man-cave that existed of very little furniture, with lots of beer cans, wine bottles, and cigarette butts thrown about the floor and on top the wide-screen TV and mini refrigerator that was crammed into one corner of the living area. A slumped, soft-toned sofa was in the center of the room, with far too many holes, burn marks, and stains to consider cleaning. And...it reeked.

Not only from the overly saturated stench of spilled alcohol, food, and bodily odors that made Andria cover her nose in disgust, but from the ripe, distinct scent of blood that seemed to stain the sofa with sporadic red blotches of dry liquid.

Taking a sudden, revolted step back, Andria tripped over the same hard substance that had nearly brought her crashing into the book shelf. Catching her balance, she turned to pierce the floor with a curious stare that all but swiped the breath from her lungs.

A body was lying on the floor in between the sofa and the book shelf. A woman's body, and she wasn't moving.

"My God." Andria rushed toward the woman, instantly recognizing her as the same woman who had accompanied the mysterious man at the club only a short time ago. Her short blonde hair was now covering her face and shielding her eyes that were now rolled clear to the back of her head. She was lying face down, her skin as white as snow and her body unmoving and still. Andria reached down to feel the woman's pulse and instantly recognized that she was cold, much too cold, as if all the warmth had been drained from her body.

Andria was in a panic. She frantically pulled her hand back, only to watch several drops of blood silently patter against the dull-blue shag carpet. She looked down at her hand with wide, fearful eyes and then jerked to regard the woman's throat. There were two small holes in the crook of her neck that were trickling blood into a pool on the floor. She was clearly dead.

Clenching her hands tighter around her Glock, Andria rose to her feet and bit her lower lip out of anger. She narrowed her eyes and breathed out with burning fumes of hostility and rage. She swore under her breath as she turned around to face the extremely pissed off vampire she had been hunting.

Bright beams of light suddenly flickered to life, briefly blinding Andria with a sharp glare that caused her voice to squeak when she screamed. She sucked in a sharp breath as the bedroom door slammed shut behind her from an unknown force that made her let out another yelp of surprise.

The man before her was even more handsome than what she had remembered. He was nearly as tall as the ceiling and his shoulders were broad and wide. He was no longer wearing the sports coat, but his white, button-down shirt easily reveal the tight muscles spread across a very defined chest and stomach. His hair was still pulled back and his neck looked thick and his rough features pulsed with near danger. The firm line of his jaw made him look hard as steel, the sea-green depths in his eyes pierced her heart with painless weapons of both fire and ice. His arms were stretched to their lengths, his hands curled into fists, his shoulders squared, and his entire body on edge.