CHAPTER ONE:
A SLAYER'S RESOLVE
The vampire spun around, a wild, unhinged look in his eye. He lunged forward but the slayer skillfully dodged his blow, delivering a hard roundhouse kick to the creature's throat. The vampire fell to the ground, coughing, choking on its own blood. The slayer could have killed the beast a half hour ago. But this wasn't just about ridding the world of another abomination (though that was definitely the end goal). It was about a slayer needing to release some pent up hostility and cleanse himself of all of his clouded thoughts.
Thoughts that were now perfectly clear.
These bloodsucking things could not be trusted. Not even when they donned the mask of a relatively normal teenager. Not even when they claimed to be your friend. Especially when they used their insidious powers to gain your trust and get you to reveal secrets that even those closest to you didn't know. Especially when their name was Vladimir Tod.
Joss was done playing games. With Vlad's face planted firmly in the forefront of his imagination, he slipped the silver-tipped wooden stake from his backpack and approached the vampire on the ground with an eager step. He whispered, "For you, Cecile" and thrust the stake forward, before the beast could draw a single breath. Blood—hot, slick, so deep red that it seemed black in the light of the moon—poured out over his hands. The nameless vampire fell still.
Joss straightened his shoulders, triumphant.
From his backpack, he withdrew a cell phone and hit number two on speed dial. When the voice at the other end answered, he said, "This is Joss. I need a clean-up on the ocean side of Russian Gulch State Park. The target is secure. Am I cleared to move on to my next objective?"
When the voice on the other end answered in the affirmative, Joss hung up the phone. There was no need to continue the conversation. Small talk didn't matter.
All that mattered was that he was going back to Bathory.
And this time, he would walk away with no regrets.
† 