From the set of his jaw, it was obvious that Tyrone was determined to protect me like it was his job. Who did he think I was that I needed this? But could I turn away from a red flag? No, I flushed with excitement at his boldness. Red was my favorite color.
I put the velvet hooded cape back on and followed him out the door. There was no way he was going to actually find a coyote and shoot it in the dark.
“You don’t have to come.”
“No, I do.” This was for my benefit, and maybe I could distract him to save the coyote, if it came to that. My cloak gaped open in the wind.
“You might want something warmer. Does that have a zipper? Or arms?” He looked confounded, as most men do when confronted withanything out of the sartorial norm.
“The cold doesn’t bother me.”
When he slung a shotgun over his back and grabbed a couple of flashlights, I stopped, unsettled by the weapon. The protector schtick was sexy, but a cozy fire and true crime on the television called my name too.
Dead serious, he said, “We’re in a bind. Something has to be done. I owe it to Jeff to look out for you, and to my customers.”
“I can take care of myself, Ty, and why would you owe Jeff? Sounds like he owed you after taking your money and killing your saplings.”
“I just do.”
I left space for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Whatever darkness he had inside him was boiling over at the mere recollection of our earlier conversation. A little uncomfortable, I turned my gaze to the ground and watched as the snow crunched under our feet, our boots breaking through the crust that had formed from a few days of cold and wind.
It’s really unfortunate Dr. R couldn’t report on her other clients. I could use some guidance with this one.
“Careful of that branch,” he said, and held part of a tree back for me to walk past unscathed.
I was not a prize to be earned, but a deep-down part of me purred with satisfaction, thrilling to this primal display of manliness. Here was a handsome, virile man, marching through the woods with a gun, intent on killingfor me.Treating me like a prize. Flowers were okay, the Christmas tree had been cozy, but this made me feel alive.
Was this how the real Tiffanys of the world felt all the time?
We walked wordlessly for what seemed like miles, Tyrone stepping through the snow with his shotgun strapped to his back like a hunter. He had no idea who the real hunter was. As much as I thrilled at being sugar and spice, he was prey and I was the predator, or at least that’s what Vlad had always said.You are designed to feed from humans. It is not your fault. It is the cycle of life. Do you hate the lion for killing the gazelle?
“Do you want me to turn on the flashlight?” he asked, mistaking myinternal struggle for blindness. I was yo-yoing between two options: 1) settling into traditional womanhood with all its benefits, or 2) draining him. Between the twisted branches of leafless maples and the pale moonlight reflecting off the snow, Valentine was an illustrated Grimms’ fairy tale tonight.
“The moon is enough light,” I said. He didn’t need any more help seeing my pupils dilated at the scent of his blood.
“Have you ever killed?” I asked Tyrone, swallowing loudly. I wanted him.
He didn’t answer.
“Let’s go back,” I suggested. I needed to calm my bloodlust for the good of us both.
An animal growled in the darkness. Tyrone was right. The scent of vampire had the local fauna worked up.
“Did you hear that?” Tyrone raised his gun.
“Must be the wind,” I said. Between my thirst and his excited state, everything was going hazy for me.
A dark shape ran across the trail. If it was a coyote, it was a big one. I made a move to catch up to Tyrone to stop him, lurching through a deep patch of snow. He raised his gun.
“Tyrone, it’s not the coyote’s fault.” I threw myself toward him with telenovela-level drama but tripped on a tree root. “Don’t shoot!” I yelled. “It wasn’t—” I started to protest, but he cut me off.
“Someone has to do it,” he said, like this was just another task, because to him, it was.
Tyroneka-chunked his shotgun and trained it on the running form. When the unsuspecting creature stopped on a hillside and stared, Tyrone pulled the trigger.
“No!” I uttered the protest too late.
Tyrone turned and took my hand. Earnestly, he said, “I’ve got to look out for you, Tiffany.”
