Macey shook her head, trying to understand the woman's confusing speech. Obviously, the two "theys" referred to two different sets of people, but what did the rest of it mean? "What do you mean, they'll be out after. . . me?" Her throat went dry and her stomach heaved. "What are you talking about?"
This gave the woman pause, and for the first time, she stopped and looked at Macey. "You don't know?"
"Know what?" she demanded.
"Lordy Moses," breathed her companion, shaking her head. "This is going to be worse than I thought. Come on, sister. " She started tugging her again.
"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's happening. "
"For Christ's sake, Temple, just pick her up and carry her. She's only a bitty thing. Vioget's going to be bloody damned fit to be tied if he has to wait any longer. " A voice from the shadows caused Macey's stomach to plummet, and she whirled.
"Chas. What are you doing here?" demanded the Negro woman, whose name was obviously Temple. She didn't sound very pleased.
A figure emerged from the darkness like a wraith. He was tall, wrapped in some enveloping dark coat with a hat and high collar that obstructed most of his face. All Macey saw was a flash in the moonlight of straight white teeth.
For a moment, she imagined they were fangs, and Macey smothered a shriek as she stepped back. Then, annoyed, she collected herself and shook away the absurd thought.
He chuckled, his laugh soft and low in the night. "Ah, I'm everywhere. You know that, Temple. Now get Macey out of here before they find her. "
As if his warning had conjured them, suddenly the door through which she and Temple had emerged reopeneds going on?" sly.
"Run!" he hissed, and Macey didn't have the chance to argue as Temple grabcation/xhtml+x
Chapter THREE
~ A Shattered Broomstick ~
For a moment, Macey was paralyzed, pinned in place by the glowing eyes of the face at the window.
Glowing red eyes.
Vampire eyes.
She shook her head violently, as if to dislodge the absurd thought, even as another part of her mind registered the baseball bat in her hands-heavy, solid. . . the way her bare feet staggered across the cold hardwood floor-toward the door. . . and the leering face at the window. With long, white fangs, fully exposed, gleaming like small ivory daggers.
The glass separating them shattered, vaulting Macey into full motion. Choking back a scream, she stumbled past the tiny kitchen table toward the door, banging into the umbrella stand on the way, then fumbling with the deadbolt she'd just slid home.
But all at once, he was there. Behind her. The chill at the back of her neck turned sharp and icy. The hairs there lifted, as if in anticiZf little sspation of fangs sinking into her skin. Macey stifled another shriek as she spun, swinging the bat toward him with all her strength.
It connected with his face, smashing into his cheek with such force that his head snapped aside. He reeled back in surprise, hands flailing. Macey attacked again, this time jabbing the bat viciously toward his midsection. She caught him at the side of the torso and sent him stumbling back against the bed.
By now his eyes glowed a light ruby pink, blazing with fury, and he rolled to his feet as she staggered away.
The door. Get to the door.
Macey tripped and surged against the wall, knocking over the old broom and tipping the trashcan onto its side. Scrambling to her feet, she flung the metal can up and at him as the vampire leapt toward her. It clanged into his arm, and she barely dodged his grasping hand as she rolled away.
A stake.
The words blazed into her mind. A stake. Find a wooden stake.
He came at her again, and now she was trapped in a corner of the small kitchen area with nothing but a baseball bat. Trash littered the floor, and the broomstick rolled under her palm as Macey tried to spring to her feet.
Broomstick.
Slender. Wooden.
The thought crystallized in her mind with shocking force, shoving itself through the terror that nearly paralyzed her. As the vampire lunged toward her, she swung the bat once more, but it was in such close quarters that she had little room to put force behind it. Her weapon slammed against his shoulder, and he hardly seemed to notice it.