Free A Dozen Black Roses by Nancy A. Collins

boy to see her in full action. He had every reason to hate and fear creatures such as herself, and she didn't want his trust shaken by seeing her play up her Kindred nature. More to the point, she did not want him to realize just how difficult it was for her to control her vampiric tendencies. God forbid the child should come face-to-face with the Other.
    She strode down the deserted street in the direction of Esher's block. Occasionally she glimpsed the faint glow of electric lights or a wan, frightened face peering out from a second-story window, but to all outward appearances Deadtown seemed as moribund as its name implied.
    Appearances, in this case, were indeed deceiving. Three figures suddenly moved to block her way. Their movements were fast and fluid, like those of stalking panthers. The stranger halted in midstride, but did not try to flee.
    "I told you we'd find her if we bided our time," said one of the vampires, his voice as dry as corn husks.
    "I was the one who suggested staking out the neighborhood!" growled the second.
    "Shut up! There will be time enough for arguing over who gets the credit after we give her head to Sinjon!" snapped the third.
    "My-my," the stranger smirked. "What have we here? The Three Billy Goats Gruff!"
    The first vampire made a disgusted noise and drew himself up to his full height. "Your days of insulting the Ventrue are over, Tremere witch!"
    The stranger smiled and shook her head. "Look, fellas—I think you've got me mixed up with someone else."
    "Do not seek to confuse us, witch!" growled the second vampire. "We know you were responsible for the execution of one of our prince's human servants! You left your calling card jutting from his back! You sought to insult our master by slaying one of his own on the very steps of the Black Lodge! Such effrontery must be punished!"
    "Will you idiots get this through your thick heads? I'm not the person you're looking for! Now, I'm only going to ask you nicely once more to clear out of my way—"
    "Enough!" thundered the third vampire, and they were on her.
    The first circled behind her, while the second came in high and the third came in low. The stranger caught the third vampire squarely in the jaw with her steel-tipped boots, kicking so hard it hung like a busted garden gate, the tongue flapping like a pink worm. The second vampire's momentum sent him headlong onto her switchblade, skewering his right lung like a toy balloon. Normally such wounds are meaningless to the Kindred—but not when dealt by a weapon specifically enchanted to slay them.
    The second vampire shrieked like a stallion in a gelding stall, pulling himself off the knife with a convulsive jerk. He tore open his shirt to expose his pallid, hairless chest. The flesh surrounding the puncture was already turning black and swelling with infection, becoming instantly gangrenous.
    "What manner of Tremere wizardry is this?" rasped the first vampire.
    The second vampire coughed, spewing forth the remains of his recent feeding, and collapsed onto the cobblestone street—well and truly dead. The stranger wasted no time rounding on the first vampire,

    Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) plunging her silver switchblade into his right eye. The vampire shrieked, and within seconds his left eye ballooned outward, like some absurd Tex Avery cartoon character, then burst.
    The third vampire turned to flee, but found his way blocked by his erstwhile prey. He lifted his hands in supplication and sputtered something that might have been a plea for mercy as the stranger drove the switchblade into his abdomen. The vampire dropped to the ground and lay writhing at her feet like a worm stranded on a hot sidewalk after a rainstorm. It took a lot longer to die from a gut wound than from a shot to the heart or neural system.
    Bored, she stepped over her third and final victim, resuming the direction in which she'd been headed before she was