LIN DIDN'T KILL THIS one, the son, judging by the photographs: he knew how to drive. He would take her to the city. She dragged the boy out to the garage, though as tall and broad as he was, 'boy' was hardly accurate. He must be almost out of his teens. When she was still human, he would have been a man with a wife, maybe children of his own, ripe for the plucking. But times had changed, now even vampires might frown on her if she plucked him.
"Open it." She pointed at the vehicle with her finger, the woman's rings glinting in the low light. Despite feeling flushed and lush after her feeding, her hand was still pale against the black leather jacket. She let go of him, and he fell to the floor, the blood from the punctures on his neck dripping onto the grey concrete. She hadn't killed him,
