Page 25 of Bumpy, the Gargoyle Slayer

If only I had my stake.

When he lunges for me, the only thing I can do is make myself small enough to roll through his legs and come up behind him. I wield that tire iron like my life depends on it, since it does. It hits him square across the ass.

He doesn’t so much jolt forward as he turns around to grab my weapon from me. “I’m going to enjoy sucking you dry, little girl.”

The “little girl” part pisses me off. It’s one thing when Alain calls me “little girl,” because he says it in a melty, sexy, big-and-protective-give-me-orgasms kind of way. But this guy wears pomade and a cape, and his shoes aren’t even buffed to a shine.

“Suck on this, scumbag.” I slap my wristlet at him. The strap breaks when it connects with his supernaturally undead body.

Great. You’d think Coco would design purses with some quality control. You’d be wrong.

The tire iron joins Bad Haircut and my shoes as he flings it over my head, forcing me to duck. My wristlet lies at his feet. I’m out of options, so I slowly circle so that my back faces the entrance to the alley again. If I can keep him off me, I can lure him onto the main street where he won’t want to make a fuss. Secrecy is a big deal for monsters. Plus, it will serve to lure him away from Bad Haircut, who sounds like she’s still trying to muster up a scream.

He growls before launching himself at me, this time keeping low. I back out of his way, but in doing so, I trip over something I can’t see. It’s dark in this part of the alley, no ambient light.

Get up, Bunny. Get the fuck up!

Great idea, brain.

I start scrambling, but I don’t get far. I crash into a wall behind me.

The vampire straightens. His attention diverts from me to something on the wall. If he wasn’t so hideous, he’d be almost cute as his head cocks to the side like a curious puppy’s.

In the next instant, something swipes out, fast. Something long, lethal, and clawed. I gape as the vampire’s head bobbles for a second before tumbling to the ground.

I yelp and find my feet, fast, only to discover a full-fledged gargoyle standing behind me. Gone are Alain’s human form and face. He’s long and skeletal, his leather wings contracted because the alley is too narrow for him to spread them out. Claws match his razor-sharp fangs, marking a nice contrast to the shreds of suit and shirt that cling to him in haphazard strips.

I swallow before I can find my voice. “Guess I ruined another suit?”

“You’re becoming an expensive fake-girlfriend,” he says in a voice that sounds like it’s being pushed through stone. “Luckily, I can support you. Are you alright?”

I nod and grab the clawed hand he extends. He’s careful not to slice me. All of me wants to melt against him as my adrenalin starts to subside, but Bad Haircut finally finds her voice and screams.

“Go. I’ll get her.”

His knuckles scrape against my cheekbone, smoothing back my messed-up hair. “Find Jean-Luc. See you at home, Bumps.” And after bending his knees, he leaps straight into the sky. Far, far up. His shuttered wings catch a draft, I guess, but when he’s free of one side of the building, they extend. And he’s gone.

Guess that ends our dinner date. Too bad. I’m hungry.

Once I manage to get Bad Haircut to her feet, I brush off my own clothing.

“Did you s-see that? T-that bat?”

I’d worry more about the vampire that almost ate her, but whatever. Keeping my mouth shut is a calling. I pick up my wristlet as I lead her back to the street. Jean-Luc jogs up. Unfortunately, the paparazzi is there, too.

“Miss Winters. This way.” And he ducks me into the back of the town car. We pull off in a blaze of flashing camera lights.

At least I managed to leave before the police showed up. Unfortunately, there are bound to be pictures. Bad Haircut is going to talk, and once she starts going on about vampires and big savior bats who claw off vampire heads, the police are going to want to see me.

If Morrie finds out, he’s going to insist on extra training. And The Network… damn, I’m screwed. In my rush to help Bad Haircut, I just let the monsters out of the bag.

When we pull up to the front door, Jean-Luc says, “I’ll walk you in.”

I wait until he opens the door for me, not solely because my etiquette teacher said I’m supposed to do so, but also because I’m shaking. Not only did I just inadvertently help reveal monsters to the world, I didn’t even manage to kill the vampire. Alain did. If he hadn’t saved the day, I’d be dead right now.

I can’t pull an acting gig, I make terrible coffee, I can’t remember customers’ names, and now I’ve messed up my second slaying attempt. Plus, Alain is going to...

He’s going to be so mad, I can’t even think about it.