Not so tonight.
Simon revved the engine and pulled out onto the street, the familiar cold clarity of the hunt settling into his bones.
By dawn, another monster would be removed from the world.
Only a few minutes later, Simon parked across from the laundromat. The flickering neon SUDS sign cast alternating blue and pink shadows across the nearly empty parking lot. Through the large windows, he counted three people inside: an elderly woman folding clothes, a college-aged kid scrolling on his phone, and a slender man in a soaked red shirt frantically stuffing clothes into a washing machine.
Simon's pulse sped up.
That had to be…
He reached into his jacket, fingers brushing against the stake's polished handle.
Something wasn't right.
Most vampires carried themselves with grace. They were immortal predators, eternal killers. Their very presence commanded respect from the people around them, even the ones who didn't know anything about the creatures of the night.
Thisvampire, though…
Charlie Dracul was scrawny. His shoulders hunched as if he was trying to disappear. He looked nothing like the monster described in the file.
And he seemed to be having trouble getting the washing machine to accept the coin he kept pushing back into the slot.
In fact, he appeared so defeated that Simon almost felt tempted to go in and help him.
But Simon knew better.
This had to be part of some elaborate scheme.
The best predators never looked dangerous until the moment they struck.
Simon had learned that lesson the hard way on his third hunt. The vampire had appeared frail and elderly—until it nearly tore his throat out.
No, Charlie Dracul was meeting his end tonight.
Simon pushed through the glass door, the bell's chime announcing his arrival. The elderly woman glanced up from her folding, then returned to her towels. The college kid didn't look up from his phone.
Charlie's back was still turned, fumbling with the coin slot.
Simon's hand moved to the stake at his belt. In one fluid motion, he crossed the laundromat's checkered floor.
Charlie spun around, finally, eyes wide. His gaze immediately took in Simon's black clothing, the tactical pants, the leather holster.
"Okay, okay, just take whatever you want. I've got maybe twelve bucks and some lint, but you can have it."
What, did this vampire think Simon wanted to mug him?
Ridiculous.
Simon drew the silver-plated stake.
Charlie's words died in his throat. His face went as white as the detergent powder. "Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no no?—"
"Charlie Dracul." Simon raised the weapon. "Your reign of terror ends tonight."
"Wait, wait!" Charlie threw his hands up, backing against the washing machine. "I'm harmless, I swear!"
As if Simon was going to believe such a cheap lie. "You eat people."
