“Yes…the case…” Foxx said just as slowly as before. The vampire eyed him for a moment with a frown before pulling out his phone and tapping away. “Looks like we are in luck.”
Thank the fucking universe, he thought with an inner sigh of relief. He took another deep breath as Foxx sat there reading over the info.
“Some random house on the edge of fucking nowhere in Bolin, Missouri.” Foxx tapped some more. “Ah…on the edge of a small cliff. That’s new, and could be fun. Just three humans, all men. Their names are Dobson Brady, Chance Dillan, and Bob Bigham. All in their twenties. And…” Foxx’s freckled nose wrinkled. “For once…no actual murder involved, but there is a vampire coven involved.”
“Not many vampire covens in the states.”
Most nests overseas were called covens. It was only unusual to find vampire covens in the US… Mainly, as to be officially called a coven here, they needed to register as one. The majority chose to remain a nest over dealing with the obnoxious amount of paperwork, and the hoops one had to jump through just to get what was basically only a label.
He frowned…wait… “If there are no dead bodies, why are we capturing them?”
The vampire’s face twisted in disgust as he explained. “They’ve been harassing the coven for months. The three men’s crimes escalating from vandalism to arson, to sexual assault.”
Harlow’s right eye twitched. Oh, he knew where this was going. “Did Charity happen to make a note of the reason we are driving three hours for a case that isn’t even under our jurisdiction when she called?”
Harlow had been in the bathroom when the woman called, so he not only missed all the fucking ‘cutie’ bullshit nicknames she loved to call him, but also any heads-up about the case.
“She…” Foxx pursed his lips. “She said it would likely piss you off.” The vampire glanced back down at his phone and scrolled more. “Ah…there’s a note… It says…” Foxx let out a hiss. “The bloody police refused to do anything about them, claiming that paranormals are involved so it’s not their job.”
HE KNEW IT!
“Fucking lazy ass bastards,” he ground out. “Those shit for brains, gutter trash, redneck cops probably ignored every motherfucking report, call, and crime, until someone thought to report it to us, all because the victims weren’t human. And because legal proceedings against their failure to do fuck all will take too long, WE now get to waste OUR time dealing with these hicks, instead of, you know, going after actual murderers. Bet the fuckers can’t even fucking fight.”
Harlow easily managed to move just enough to avoid getting hit each time the blond-haired human, Dobson Brady, took a swing at him with his baseball bat.
“SEE! Can’t fight for shit! Swinging like a fucking nearsighted toddler who can’t see the fucking ball.”
“I mean, their lack of ability doesn’t mean we can’t hurt them, right?” Foxx giggled.
The vampire had his hand folded behind his back and was practically skipping backwards, barely looking bothered as the two humans on him tried to whack him with their makeshift weapons. Weapons being a chair leg and a piece of wood with nails in it.
Though the two ‘attacking’ Foxx were just as suntanned as the one near him, unlike Dobson, Chance Dillan’s hair was brown, while Bob Bigham’s was black. All three had white, very stained T-shirts on, a pair of those dumb ripped blue jeans that kids liked to wear nowadays, and what looked like off brand Timberlands.
Harlow was so looking forward to dragging their asses out in the cold fucking rain. Because it was windy, raining, and at most forty outside. He was honestly sort of shocked that Foxx hadn’t yet complained about the cold. Though…their conversation had been awkward as fuck on the drive here…
Harlow eyed the vampire. Foxx was wearing a white knitted sweater with strawberries on it, red gloves, red overalls that looked to be made of thick sweater material, and a pair of red boots that had white fur at the top. As the man was looking thicker than he should be, he was pretty sure the vampire had shit on underneath.
Harlow’s gaze flicked back to the human he’d been absently dodging. How much to hurt him, was the question, and should he base it on how pissed off he was that there were even here?
“Oh,” Foxx exclaimed. “Maybe they just find us too attractive to hurt?” the vampire drawled with a laugh. “Is that it, big boys? Do you find me too cute to hurt?”
Bob’s face twisted, and turning red with rage, he bellowed, “You’re a fucking fa—” The man’s words were cut off on a breathless croak as Foxx, moving so fast Harlow barely followed, had slammed his fist into the man’s stomach.
With a smile on his face, Foxx said stiffly, “I don’t like that word.”
To be honest, as angry as his words had been, the vampire’s lopsided smile looked pretty serene. Well, it had, until Bob spurted blood from his mouth and collapsed.
Eyeing the passed-out man, Harlow figured that was his cue to stop fucking around.
“Bloody hell!” Foxx huffed, before whining, “I didn’t even hit him that hard!” The vampire hmphed, but then blinked and held his hands out in front of him. “Oh!” Foxx sighed happily. “Good, he didn’t get any blood on my jumper!”
“That’s good to know, Foxx,” he chuckled, before eyeing the other two humans, who’d been so startled by the attack that they now stood frozen, staring at their downed friend.
“I’ll take that,” Harlow growled as he yanked the bat from Dobson, before promptly slamming it into the man’s side.
The human yelled out, doubling over, but the cry was cut off when Harlow swung it at his face. Blood burst from Dobson’s nose, and the man fell to the ground.
“If you are going to use something as a weapon, at least learn to fucking use it properly!” He twirled the bat once before turning an evil grin on the last man left standing.
