“Don’t look at his eyes!” Skeeter’s voice in my ear, by contrast, was like the sound a cat makes when you tie a half-dozen bottle rockets to its tail and light them all at once. Do not ask me how I know that sound, but accept the fact that it does not ever leave a person. Skeeter’s voice snapped me back to reality and the monster in front of me came into sharper focus.
Where a few seconds before the love child between Johnny Depp and Brad Pitt had stood, now a gaunt, twisted, withered creature loomed over me like a sickly sac of walking death. I shuddered at the thought, and focused my eyes on a point just over the vamp’s shoulder.
“Yeah, I might have killed a bloodsucking fiend or two tonight. Were they yours?”
His collapsed nostrils flared with rage, and he rasped, “Hold him” to his m
