Free Fat Vampire Value Meal (Books 1-4 in the series) by Johnny B. Truant Page B

his hands, was beginning to look dried and wrinkly. His stomach didn’t rumble, but somehow his blood did. He could feel it in every part of his body, running outward from his core in long, ropy tendrils of desperation. With each heartbeat, need left his heart and screamed out in search of sustenance, and with each beat, blood returned to his heart empty-handed and sad. He could feel his blood’s need in every cell of his body. What had Maurice said? It was like a limb he didn’t know he had.  
    Yes, it felt like that.  
    Having been outrun by a woman, caned by an old man, and beaten up by a teenager, Reginald decided to lower his expectations. He wasn’t ready for the big leagues. He had to go down past the farm leagues, past the minors, past little league. He needed the vampire hunting equivalent of preschool tee-ball.  
    So, as the sun was setting, he used the last of his phone’s battery to do an internet search. After a few minutes of dead ends, he found a church that offered daycare for parents who worked late — later than most daycares even on weekends, for later-than-normal parents.  
    This one would keep your kids until ten if necessary.  
    Past sunset.  

L ITTLE G IRL

    WHEN REGINALD ARRIVED AT THE church, the children were out in a well-lit, fenced-in play yard. There were quite a few of them. It seemed strange to Reginald that there were so many kids in childcare on a Saturday night, but apparently the church was the only game in town for parents who worked unconventional hours.
    Reginald looked at his cell phone to check the time. It was eight-thirty. He sat on a bench a hundred or so yards from the play yard and, using his enhanced vampire sense of sight, watched and waited as over the course of the next hour, parents arrived and claimed their children. Reginald started to doubt his plan. How had he expected to ambush a kid while under the church’s supervision or while holding their parents’ hands?  
    Ten o’clock arrived. Reginald crossed his fingers. The lights went out. Someone opened, peeked out, and then locked the door to the play yard. Everything became quiet.  
    Ten minutes passed. Nothing.
    Reginald swore.  
    He’d known this was a stupid idea. What had he expected? To grab one through the fence? To have one walk over and offer him- or herself up after the shop was closed for the night? The whole idea was stupid, and now that he thought about it, he realized he’d wanted it to fail. He couldn’t bite a kid. He couldn’t terrify an innocent child. And now he’d wasted almost two hours and the kids were all gone, but it was for the best, he’d just have to head back to the bridge and find that hobo, or head into the city and find a hooker with a bad enough drug habit to allow him to do something particularly kinky, or maybe he could…
    The front door of the church opened and a small figure, wrapped in a jacket against the nighttime chill, emerged and began walking away.  
    Reginald watched for a few seconds. He could see a brown pony tail running down the back of the jacket. A girl. Judging by the height, he guessed she had to be nine or ten. Why was a little girl leaving the church as the daycare closed? Why was she left alone to walk the streets at night?
    But in the end, it didn’t matter. With his blood growling, hating himself for what he was about to do, Reginald got up and started to follow her.  
    The third time was bound to be the charm. Between the woman and the teenage kid, he’d learned exactly what not to do.  
    He approached the girl slowly, diving into pools of shadow behind her and keeping his footsteps light. There weren’t many streetlights. The girl was wearing earmuffs. He doubted she’d be able to hear him.  
    Loathing rose in his throat. He pushed it down. She’d be fine. She’d be scared, and she’d be hurt, but afterward he’d make her forget and she’d continue on her way. He’d even follow her, he decided, to make sure she got home safely