Free George's Turn [Brac Pack 8] by Lynn Hagen Page B

poetically? He grinned at the girly way he felt, and as cliché as it was, he felt like he was walking on cloud nine. The big goofy smile he was sporting was all because he had finally accepted who he was and who he wanted to be with. Speaking of, he needed to get to Tank’s.
    George whistled as he walked to his truck, wanting to shout that he was gay and how the big galoot was his. He had just reached his truck when he was jumped from behind, a fist punching into his kidney. His breath was momentarily knocked out of him, but he wasn’t going down that easily. Whoever it was picked the wrong man to mug. George thrust his elbow back, but it felt like it hit a brick wall.
    “Thought I forgot about you?”
    George screamed as a searing pain tore through his neck. He threw his head back, connecting with whoever held him. Stars burst through his skull as he grabbed his neck and head simultaneously.
    “Fucking human. You’ll pay for that.” George felt his back opening up and blood warming his skin. He staggered as he grabbed a crowbar from the truck bed, swinging it wildly. It was the vampire from the other night. The one Tank had choked. The things fingernails were long, looking more like talons.
    He must have used them to rip George’s back open.
    The bloodsucker laughed. “Think you can beat me?”
    “I may not be able to, but you won’t walk away unharmed.” 68
    Lynn Hagen
    George grabbed the crowbar and plunged it into the vampire’s chest, putting all his weight into it.
    He knew he was battling for not only his life but time. The front of his white shirt was soaking up too much blood. He was bleeding out too fast. His pristine white shirt was being used like a sponge, and he could feel his jeans wet and sticky with it as well.
    The vampire roared, knocking George to the ground as he pulled the crowbar free. “You bastard.” The creature dropped to his knees, covering the gaping hole with his hands. He tumbled over, George kicking him to make sure he was dead, or dead again.
    He knew that was one lucky-ass strike, to get him in his heart on the first try. It looked like the myth about wooden stakes was inaccurate. Somebody up there was watching out for him.
    George pulled to his feet and staggered to the diner. He almost made it to the back door when he fell to his knees, his neck bleeding profusely and his back on fire. He crawled to the door and managed to get in, his vision blurring as he stumbled to the diner phone.
    George grabbed a towel, pushing it into his neck to try and staunch the flow of blood, he grabbed the phone and dialed Tank’s cell phone, he was getting light headed fast.
    “Hello?”
    “H–help—”
    “George? George!” Tank yelled on the other end.
    George slid to the floor, blackness surrounding him.

    * * * *
    “I need help. Something happened to my mate,” Tank yelled into the den as he took off toward the front door. He wanted to shift, but what if George needed him to take him to the hospital?
    Tank tore from the driveway, gravel spitting out and hitting the other vehicles. He made it to the diner to see his mate’s truck. Oh god, there was so much fucking blood . It was splattered on George’s truck George’s Turn
    69
    and the sidewalk. Tank didn’t think he had ever seen so much in one place in his life. The vampire from the other night was lying on the ground. Tank roared as he picked the body up and slammed it into a tree, watching it fall limply to the ground.
    If he hadn’t let the vamp get away, his mate wouldn’t be hurt. Or maybe worse. Tank stormed into the diner, following the path of blood. George was slumped down behind the counter. His neck looked chewed open. Oh god, no!
    He ran to George, pulling him into his arms, Tank howled when his hands felt the sticky blood on his mate’s back. “Somebody help us!” Tank screamed as he rocked a lifeless cowboy in his arms.
    “Please, no,” he choked out.
    “Let’s go, Tank. We gotta get him to a hospital fast.