"Or what? You'll start something in a room full of witnesses?" Creed gestured at the oblivious crowd. "Even the Organization's special project has rules?—"
Simon moved. Not vampire-fast, but fast enough. His fist connected with Creed's throat, cutting off whatever he'd been about to say. In the same motion, he shoved Charlie toward the back exit.
"Go."
The bar erupted. Not panic—the music was too loud, the crowd too drunk to process what was happening. But the vampires moved as one, following as Simon hauled Creed through the back door by his ridiculous wallet chain.
In the alley behind the bar, Simon threw Creed against the brick wall hard enough to crack mortar.
The vampire recovered instantly, lunging with his claws extended. Simon twisted, letting momentum carry the vampire past him, then drove a stake toward his heart. Creed spun away at the last second, the wood gouging brick instead of flesh.
"You were saying something about special projects?" Simon asked.
"Everyone knows about you." Creed circled him while the other three spread out, cutting off exits. "The Organization's pet experiment. We've been hearing about it. About what they turned you into."
While Simon was seething on the inside, the redhead tried to strike him from behind. Simon dropped, sweeping her legs, but she was already airborne. Her boot caught his shoulder, sending him rolling. He came up with his knife drawn, silver edge shiny and lethal.
Two of them rushed at once—Creed from the left, the teenage-looking one from the right. Simon's enhanced senses let himtrack both. He sidestepped Creed's grab, used his momentum to slam him into the younger vampire. They tangled for a crucial second.
His throwing stake caught the teenager in the chest. Ash scattered.
The redhead shrieked, going for his eyes. Simon caught her wrist, bones grinding under his grip—stronger than any human's had a right to be. She tried to pull free, confusion flashing across her face at his strength.
"What are you?" she gasped.
His knife answered, separating her head from her shoulders. More ash.
Somewhere, Charlie made a panicked sound.
Simon didn't have time for him now.
Creed backed against the wall, one hand pressed to his ribs where Simon's stake had grazed him. "Did you tell your new pet about your organization?"
Simon's eyes narrowed on him, but he couldn't forget about the other vampire. The one in the suit. He stood by the dumpster, watching.
Creed tried one more desperate rush. Simon met him halfway, stake finding its mark this time. The vampire's eyes went wide as he crumbled to dust.
Just Simon and the suited vampire now, Charlie near the club entrance, breathing fast and scared.
"Who's the monster now?" the vampire asked softly.
"You are." Simon pulled his stake free from where Creed had fallen, not bothering to clean it. "You always were."
"That so?" The vampire smiled, sad and knowing. "Do you even know what you did to your little vampire pet?"
Simon paused. "Me? I didn't do anything. You guys turned him."
The vampire moved—older and faster than the others—but Simon was ready. They collided in the center of the alley, the vampire's strength meeting Simon's enhanced physiology. For a moment they were locked, neither giving ground.
"You were the first to feed him blood," the vampire managed, even as Simon's stake pressed toward his chest. "Do you have any idea what that means? What giving a starving fledgling your blood?—"
Simon drove the stake home, cutting off the words. The vampire collapsed into ash with that knowing smile still on his face.
Simon stood among the dust of four vampires, stake in hand, breathing hard. The pills in his pocket felt heavier than ever. His hands were steady—they always were during a kill—but something cold was spreading through his chest.
He turned around.
The alley was empty.
