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“I do. What about it?” I reply.
“We’re being followed.”
“Huh? Followed by who?”
“Not sure, probably slayers.”
I stifle a laugh. “What like Buffy?”
“No, not at all so palatable I’m afraid. I haven’t had the chance to explain to you yet, but there are groups of humans aware of our existence, hostile groups whose sole purpose it is to bring about our extinction.”
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
“And we’re being followed by slayers right now?” I ask with a certain level of giddiness.
“I suspect we are. I’m sorry but we’re going to have to make a detour, I can’t have them knowing where you live.”
“Have I mentioned that this night keeps getting weirder and weirder?”
Ethan smiles ruefully. “Not in so many words,” he replies before making a sharp and speedy turn around the next corner. Followed by another and then another. All the while I watch our supposed stalkers and notice that they too have made the exact same swift turns on the road.
So we are being followed then.
Chapter Six
What Would Buffy Do?
Ethan drives to the outskirts of Tribane, it takes about twenty minutes, and still that green van is blatantly following us. I know I found it hilarious when Ethan first mentioned that they might be slayers, but now, as I’ve had time to wonder about them, I’m beginning to get nervous. There could be ten or more men huddled into that van, and there’s only one of Ethan. I doubt I’d be of much use in a fight. And what if they mistake me for a vampire? Will I die with a wooden stake to my broken heart?
Thinking this I turn to Ethan and ask, “Are stakes as lethal to you as the myths say they are?”
“Yes, that one is true. Although the problem for slayers is that we can move so much faster than the average human. So it is a momentous feat if they get to us in time. They might be aiming directly for our hearts one second, but in less than that time we could already have gotten five feet away.”
“Yeah, that super speed could definitely come in handy,” I admit, my voice a little shaky.
“Are you worried?” Ethan asks, turning his focus from the road.
“No.” I lie, and the clot of fear in my throat can easily be heard in my words.
His lips turn up into a half smile. “There is absolutely no need to worry my darling, I won’t let anybody get to you.” He tells me, his voice is steel and undiluted power. I suppose a vampire could get fairly good at fighting off slayers with two hundred and seventy odd years of practice.
“You see the licence plate?” he asks, his voice giving me a fright as I was lost in thought for a moment.
“Huh?” I say, eloquent as always, blinking back to the present situation.
“The licence plate on the van contains the letters DOH, that’s how I know they’re slayers. They call themselves the Defenders of Humanity, DOH for short.”
“Well there must be a lot of money in the slaying business,” I joke. “Because it’s only the big shots who can afford snazzy personalised licence plates.”
Ethan smiles but doesn’t seem to quite get the joke. “Lucas likes to call them Dickhead Onanistic Humans,” he says, smiling as if he’s just told me the funniest thing imaginable.
“I’m sorry to say I don’t get that one.”
“Onanistic means to be fond of touching oneself,” he replies and then raises an eyebrow as if to say “Get it now?”
“Oh so you’re basically calling them Dickhead Wanker Humans, jeez you and Lucas can be such nerds.”
