An Unattractive Vampire Read Free Page A

stopped looking down the barrel of the gun and focused on her, the strong, independent woman ready to make him damp and butter his toast. Old World politeness kept it from laughing outright in her face, but the patronizing smile sunk her self-assurance lower.
    “I mean it,” she said. She let out a spray of mist and turned the knife so it glinted in the moonlight.
    He stared at her and sniffed, the air now filled with perfume of a very specific buttercup. He looked at the knife, finely polished and ready to spread, then at the weapon in his hand. He fumbled with it for a moment, pressing things at random until he managed to eject the clip. It clattered to the floor, and the figure knelt to examine the gun’s death-filled payload. Its
silver
death-filled payload.
    “You believe me a werewolf?” Yulric asked.
    “Yes,” Amanda answered.
    The two of them stared at each other in silence.
    “A werewolf?” he said again.
    “Yes,” she repeated.
    “Me?” he asked incredulously.
    “What do
you
think you are?” Amanda said.
    “A vampyr,” Yulric answered. Amanda giggled. “I don’t think so.”
    “’Tis true,” he growled.
    “Okay . . . ,” she agreed condescendingly.
    “I am!” he barked.
    This time it was her turn to display the smug, patronizing smile. Amanda enjoyed the irony. Yulric failed to see it, since the situation was not particularly ironic.
    “The sign downstairs gave a vampyr leave to enter this room. Why would a werewolf respond to an invitation so clearly meant for a vampyr?” asked the supposed vampire.
    “Because werewolves hate vampires. Everybody knows that.”
    This was news to Yulric. He had always gotten on quite well with werewolves. They were good for a laugh, knew the latest drinking songs, and made for very convenient scapegoats.
    “What makes you think I am a werewolf?” he inquired.
    Spritzer bottle at the ready, she rattled off her list, “It’s a full moon. Your clothes are in tatters. Your appearance is grotesque. Big claws, big ears, big teeth.
All the better to eat you with, my dear.
”
    Amanda gave herself points for quipping under pressure. Her satisfaction, however, was short-lived under the unresponsive gaze of her assailant.
    “All the better to eat you with?”
she repeated. Nothing. “‘Little Red Riding Hood’?”
    “What does riding wear have to do with eating?” asked Yulric.
    Now it was Amanda’s turn to stare. Her hands dropped to her sides, the potential danger having been overcome by surprise. Not that it mattered. In Amanda’s mind, nothing this stupid could possibly be dangerous.
    “You don’t know ‘Little Red Riding Hood’?” she said in disbelief.
“Grimm’s Fairy Tales?”
Yulric did not respond.
    “‘Snow White’? ‘Hansel and Gretel’? Violent tales watered down to make animated musicals?”
    “Are we still discussing the red hood?” asked Yulric.
    Amanda let out a huge sigh. “‘Little Red Riding Hood’,” she quickly summarized, “a story of a little girl in the woods. She talks to a wolf. The wolf goes, eats her grandmother, and dresses in the old woman’s clothing. The girl arrives.
What big teeth you have. The better to eat you with.
He eats her, too. Sometimes they escape. Moral, kiddies, don’t talk to strangers. Or don’t have sex. Depending on your age.”
    It took a while for the rattled-off story to sink in with Yulric. Even when he’d finished going over it in his mind, he had to ask, “And how is this pertinent?”
    “It’s a wolf,” blurted a frustrated Amanda. “A wolf like a man. A werewolf. It’s a werewolf story.”
    Amanda received no reply. Deep inside Yulric’s mind, a heated debate raged. One side logical; the other side less so.
    One side pleased; the other outraged.
    This is perfect,
said the logical Yulric.
She thinks us a werewolf. Kill her and be done.
    We are not a werewolf,
said the less logical Yulric.
    I know we are not a werewolf, and you know we are not a werewolf, but this