AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The last time one of those creatures killed a kid, we hunted ’em down and drove the rest away. Never had no trouble after that.”
Barbara nodded. “I read about that. An unauthorized cull. Three of the Colony killed. Lucky no one was prosecuted.”
The man snorted. Barbara could smell the bourbon fumes. “You don’t prosecute people for exterminating vermin,” he growled.
“One of those vermin was a minor.”
He rolled his eyes. “They’re not real children. Some look like kids, but they ain’t.”
Not true, Barbara thought. “Turning” children had been outlawed by the colonies centuries ago. And vampyrs could breed. Most children in colonies were the vampyrs’ own offspring. They might grow and age more slowly, but they were still kids.
“We saved those creatures,” the man continued. “From eternal damnation. We did what was necessary.”
“Really? Was disfiguring the bodies necessary too?”
A flash in the cloudy eyes. His jaw tightened.
Another voice spoke: “Is everything all right here?”
Barbara glanced up. The striking white-haired woman she had spotted earlier had approached the booth.
Unlike the rest of the clientele, who wore the small-town uniform of plaid shirts and jeans, she wore a long, gray dress over tights and chunky black boots. An ornate silver cross hung around her neck.
“We were just chatting,” Barbara said to her.
The woman smiled. “Well, that’s good to hear.” She glanced at the man. “Perhaps it would be best if you headed home, Beau. You wouldn’t want Jess to have to come and fetch you again.”
The man looked like he might argue, and then sighed, the aggression leaking out of him like a punctured balloon. He nodded at Barbara. “I didn’t mean to trouble you.”
“No trouble. You take care now, sir.”
Beau walked back to his stool, picked up his jacket and meandered toward the exit. Without being asked, the woman took the seat opposite Barbara. As she did, Barbara felt the room settle, like an exhalation of breath. Conversation and movement resuming. Their little tableau had played out. Almost like it had been rehearsed.
Barbara smiled at the woman across the table. “I’m—” she began.
“Dr. Barbara Atkins, forensic vampyr anthropologist,” the woman finished. “I know.”
“Guess word travels fast here.”
“About the only thing that does.” The woman stretched out her hand. Her nails were long and manicured. Not small-town nails. “I’m Reverend Colleen Grey.”
Reverend. Well, that explained the cross. Barbara shook the Reverend’s hand, conscious of her own bitten nails and ragged cuticles.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” She paused. “I didn’t realize they had a church in Deadhart.”
“I guess you could say I’m kind of a pioneer. I built the church here myself.”
Not with those nails, you didn’t, Barbara thought.
Perhaps catching her skeptical look, Colleen added: “I had some help from the community, of course. And it’s not much. Pretty rough around the edges. But the town needed it. Needed me.”
The Reverend certainly wasn’t short on confidence. The evangelical seldom were.
“How long have you been here?” Barbara asked.
“Coming up to three years now.”
“So practically a newcomer then.”
