“What brings a pretty little things like you to our small town?” a Vampire named Bently circles his finger around the bare skin of Blanchette’s shoulder, doing his best to withstand the burning under his fingers, ignoring the spirit wolf overhead, growling at him.
“My man, Victor,” Blanchette says.
The vampire takes his finger off her shoulder, “are you sure he is your man? He had a woman, and she looked nothing like you.”
“He is prehistoric, many wives,” Blanchette says.
The vampire signals another from the bar. Blanchette follows his eyes, wondering who the President of their biker club is.
“What can I do for you,” the guy that was just at the bar.
Bently signals him to come closer and whispers in his ear.
The bar guy walks to a back door and moments later he comes back with a
