Free Huntress by J L Taft Page A

her that she had never seen. She had seemed
to be a hard, strict woman and Fiona felt a lump forming in her throat to
realize she hadn’t really been like that at all.
    It would take her a month to sort through all the things
packed away.
    In the center of the room there was a six- or
seven-foot-long wooden table. She shined her light on the papers lying there.
There were random notes and family photos scattered throughout. One photograph
of her parents caught her eye and she picked it up.
    They looked happy, their arms around each other. Next to the
photograph was something she recognized, another of Grandma’s journals. Fiona
frowned. She thought she had all of them.
    A loud crack of thunder roared overhead and she jerked in
surprise. She needed to get out of here and come back in the daylight. She
couldn’t see a damn thing in the thin beam of her flashlight.
    But she wasn’t leaving the journal or the pictures. She
located a box underneath the table in a pile of other stuff and threw the
journal and the photos in before closing the flaps.
    The metal of the door rattled and she sucked in a deep
breath. She could feel a presence and it was close. Even if she couldn’t see
any feet in the space under the door, someone or something was out there.
    Fiona backed up, knowing her only chance was to hide. But
odds were whoever was out there already knew she was here.
    Then she began to doubt there was anyone outside. The door
had only rattled once and she wondered now if it could have been the storm.
    She set the box down at the edge of the table and lifted the
door suddenly. No one was there. Shaking off the strange feelings, she grabbed
the box and closed the door behind her, locking it back up tight.
    The rain had let up and she headed for her car. When she got
to the end of the row she turned and stopped dead in her tracks.
    A man stood before her. The type of man who gave her the
same strange feeling of awareness she had in her dreams. He was a vamp. He
wasn’t huge but his still body didn’t fool her. He was poised to attack.
    “Well, if it isn’t the new hunter. All alone in the dark,”
he jeered at her.
    “What do you want?” she uttered. The storm picked back up
and she heard a long rumble in the distance that stopped abruptly.
    He came closer without saying anything and his deep-red eyes
stared at her. He almost looked as if he were floating over the wet concrete.
Fiona knew if she turned tail and ran now it would all be over. She couldn’t
give in or show any weakness because he would pounce.
    He stopped inches from her and visibly took a deep breath.
“You smell delicious.”
    She recoiled and took a step back. He reached out, picked up
a wet tendril of hair off her shoulder and used it to tug her closer. The move
was obviously sexual and all it managed to do was repulse her. It sent a shiver
of disgust down her spine.
    “Go to hell,” Fiona growled at him.
    “I’m already there, little girl,” he chuckled. “Why don’t
you join me?”
    He moved so fast Fiona had no time to react. He was suddenly
behind her with his arm around her neck, cutting off her air. She dropped her
box and struggled against his tight hold but it was like fighting a brick wall.
    His arm loosened fractionally when she twisted and made the
mistake of exposing her neck. She sucked in air and let it out in a scream for
help. She didn’t figure anyone was around but she had to try. The scream was
sad to say the least. Her lack of oxygen made it sound more like a squeak.
    She renewed her struggles as she felt him lick her shoulder.
    “You bastard! Let me go!” she screeched at him.
    He laughed in her ear, dark and menacing.
    Fiona heard a dull thunk and she was unexpectedly free.
Whipping her head around, she saw Trent fighting the vampire. He was losing.
The vamp connected his fist with Trent’s face and he stumbled. Trent might have
been big and strong but he was no match for the immortal.
    Trent leaned against the storage