Excerpt: Not The Vampire One (End of Days)

     She was shaken awake gently by Mother. Demonicus was gone. Hunter pressed her hand to her forehead and winced. Mother sighed then set her fingers at the sides of Hunter's head. Speaking an incantation quietly, she yanked her fingers from Hunter's head. Wisps of smoke dissipated and Hunter blinked, surprised. Mother kissed her forehead. “I know. I just felt you should not have a headache if you had to be told that your mother is looking for you and learned from your two boyfriends that you were drunk and alone in here with Demonicus.”
     “So that's why he's missing.” Hunter gathered her belongings. “Is he even on this plane?”
     “No.” Mother smiled. “Though your mother keeps forgetting we are her servants. If she asks, we are obliged to tell her where he is.”
     “I'm not telling if you aren't.” Hunter patted herself down then hugged Mother. “Thank you for being a better mother than my own.”
     “She loves you deeply.” Mother kissed Hunter's forehead gently. “Forgive her for being human.”
     “How can I when I can't forgive myself for being human?” Hunter left Mother in the office and strode past the busy bar. She ran up the steps and out of the club as cryptids waited to enter. She waited in the light, pausing in thought. She sighed, unsure of where to go.
     The vampires who had harassed her saw her and moved toward her. She grinned and changed the clip in her gun. The group stopped a few meters from her. The vampire grinned. “Hello, gypsy.”
     “Do you know what I like best about devout Catholic vampire converts?” She raised her gun and turned off the safety. Pointing it at his heart, she said, “Holy Water kills you. You have faith, see. And I have Holy Water.”
     He laughed then grabbed her throat with an unnaturally extended arm. She fired, and the round exploded in his heart. He stumbled back, shocked; his hands clawed at his own chest. A sizzling noise came from his chest, and smoke seeped from the hole over his heart. He fell back, twitching, then was still.
     Selma Avenue was quiet. No vampires moved, even the locals. The other cryptid races stared in shock. Hunter laughed. “Oh come on! He's going to be in torpor for a century. Big deal. I will be long dead.” She pointed at the cryptids. “You know what being human means? It means that when you're just reaching maturity, I'm a skeleton. You've got centuries of irresponsible partying to go.” She checked her watch. “And my irresponsible time is up.”
     Hunter stalked from Selma Avenue onto Hollywood Boulevard. She glanced over her shoulder, watching a human (or humanoid) following her. She stopped and leaned against the wall, waiting for him. He appeared to be a few years older than her; his head was shaved, his eyes were kind, and his smile was even and bright. Motioning for him to move faster, he did. He reached a hand to her, and in a bright British accent, he said, “Hello, Hunter. I'm Percy.”