Free Bound by the Vampire Queen by Joey W. Hill Page A

latest batch of comics, featuring new episodes of The Losers and Iron Man. He’d been close enough that she could rest her dainty feet on his backside, her preferred footstool so she could knead him with her toes like a satisfied feline. Whiskers had curled up in the small of his back, Bran lying to the left of his lady’s chair.
    Jacob had been vaguely aware of the crinkle of the box liner as she reached for each chocolate, but neither of them had tracked how many she was eating until her fingers felt their way over the foil of an empty box. Later that evening, he’d held her hair back from her face as she threw up. He’d found it a tender experience, no matter how annoyed she’d been with him for feeling that way. After her stomach had settled down, for the next few nights her blood had possessed a delightfully sweet taste.
    Since then, she’d been able to exercise a little more control, but he liked seeing her indulge in such pleasures, like her penchant for coffee. Now he squeezed her hand, seeing the corner of her pretty mouth twitch at the memories he was giving her.
    He took her down several smaller , less well-paved streets, until they were moving in dank, poorly lit alleys between buildings. There they found Dumpsters, more graffiti, the smell of garbage and unwashed humans. Several of them. Jacob stopped, listening again.
    Lyssa realized they were being watched, but stayed silent, knowing he was aware of it as well.
    “I’m not going to hurt anyone, I promise.” He raised his voice. “I need information. Whether you can help me or not, I'll pay you for your time and honesty.” Silence. Giving Lyssa’s hand a squeeze, Jacob moved forward, nodding toward his target on the far side of the Dumpster. She answered with a shift of her body, showing she’d located the other two and had his back.
    A tiny growl became a whimper, a dog struggling to make a noise against the hand clamped around the snout. Jacob dropped to a squat from his six-foot height, within a couple paces of the shadowed corner the Dumpster provided. He tented his fingers on the pavement, despite the questionable debris beneath them. “I won’t hurt you, ma’am. Alright? I’m looking for something, and if you’ve lived down here awhile, I think you'll know where it is. You probably see things a lot of people don’t.”
    There was the sound of newspaper being crumpled by movement, and Lyssa saw a shift in those shadows. However, she left that one to Jacob, turning to face the two men who stepped out of the gloom on the other side of the Dumpster. They appeared to be about Ingram’s age. Both were dressed in worn, layered clothing of dull colors. Their unshaven, thin faces and unkempt hair beneath grimy bill caps, the watchful, not entirely stable expressions, were the signature of the career urban homeless. One held a metal pipe, the other a length of board with nails stuck through the end, a crude mace. “Leave Essie alone,” the one with the pipe said in a voice roughened by outdoor living and smoker’s cough. “Don’t no one ever come down here in the middle of the night who don’t mean trouble.”
    “Well, now someone has,” Lyssa said, holding him in her gaze. “We’re seeking a tree. A very special tree.”
    Whatever they’d been expecting, it was obviously not that. As they exchanged a look, she extended the coffee. “I’ve only taken a little. Would you like the rest?”
    “I don’t sleep when I drink coffee. Pete'll take it though. He drinks it like a fish.” Pipe Guy jerked his head at the other man.
    Lyssa stepped closer, aware of Jacob’s careful attention on them and Pete’s tight hold on that lifted board. However, she stepped inside its range without fear. With or without vampire intuition, she had a pretty good grasp of human motives. She kept her gaze on Pete’s, not in challenge, but to show him her intentions. As he warily took the cup from her, she noted the cracked skin on his knuckles.
    A creak of