celiabreslin

The armed guards disappeared through the double doors, leaving me alone with the six, unchained old-timers.

[…]

I cleared my throat to gain their attention, expecting them to attack fast, like the newbies my captors usually tossed my way, young vamps who thought me easy prey, one lone young woman, dirty and frail. Once within reach of my hands, they all died quick…burn, bad little vampires, burn. These seasoned pros simply stared.

Damn it.

Eyes vampire-black and fangs bared, the taller three of the gang sidled left. Two more, short and stocky and scowling like vicious trolls, faded right.

The last vampire worried me the most. While the others pressed forward across the huge space, he leaned against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled, a cold, I-am-the-devil smile not even remotely reaching his blue eyes. Pretty eyes, too. A rich, vibrant blue like the Mediterranean Sea on a sunny day. High cheekbones. Eyelashes so thick it looked like he wore mascara and eyeliner. Cute dimples, perfect nose, and an artfully messy, short haircut for his shiny black hair. All this and his casual yet clearly expensive black pants and tight black shirt gave him the look of a male model prepped for the camera.
His delicate features and full red lips tugged at my memory. Did I know him? No, doubtful I’d forget a demon in such a pretty package.

As the five circled me, I kept my arms loose at my sides and willed my fangs to retract before they noticed them, then gave the advancing assholes a sweet, I’m an innocent little human girl smile, all the while keeping my primary focus on the real threat in the back of the room.

“You look exactly like your father.” Smiley addressed me in English with a posh British accent.

Given the confused and cranky glances he garnered from the men, they didn’t understand English.

Color me shocked by Smiley’s comment, but first things first. “Hold that thought, handsome.”

He barked a laugh. “You certainly don’t have his temperament.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.” I waved a hand at the vamps. “They don’t understand English, do they?”

“Not a word. They’re foot soldiers, by the way.” He tapped his forehead. “Not very bright.” He jerked his chin at the trolls. “Russian.” Then at the other three. “Italian. Not very good soldiers, mind you, given they were captured.”

“Uh, look in the mirror lately?” I gestured at him and the room.

Smiley shot me another shit eating grin.

Several feet separated me from the advancing vamps. I raised a palm, addressing them in Italian. “Stop. Five against one little girl?” I made a point of looking at their groins then wiggling my pinkie. “You not man enough to fight me one on one?”

The three Italians took the bait. One crept forward. I let him come, ducked his punch, then took him out with a right hook to the knockout spot on his jaw. He crumpled to the ground. Yeah, Jonas had taught me well.

Smiley clapped. “Bravo.”

I curtseyed and motioned to Italian jerk number two. “Dai.” Come on, let’s go.
This one wasted less time playing with his food, aka me, and blurred forward in vampire hyper speed. I dodged his attempt to grab me and landed a nice kick in his kidneys sending him stumbling forward.

My speedy sidestep alerted the foot soldiers they weren’t messing with an ordinary human. The third Italian hissed and flew at me. Literally. I crouched, and he collided with his pal, toppling them both to the ground in a growling heap.

I smirked. “Oopsie.”

They shot to their feet in that creepy as-if-pulled-by-puppet-strings way only the older vampires seemed to have mastered. Their eyes glowed black with rage and power. Fangs bared, their expressions promised pain.

I unfurled my power and fired up my palms, let my fangs lengthen and my eyes bleed to black, the shift in the latter a cool and soothing waterfall sensation, such a contrast to the heat coursing through the rest of my body.

“Bring it, old dudes.”

They blurred forward right into my waiting palms.

Can’t say I enjoyed their agonized screams as my fire power blazed through their circulatory systems and burned them from the inside out. And I’d never grow accustomed to the smell of fried organs and burning flesh. Fortunately, the more I used my power—and my captors had forced me to use it a lot—the faster I seemed to fry vamps. This time seemed like five seconds, tops.

I held my breath as their ashes swirled around me then settled on the floor.

The two Russian trolls dropped to their knees and bowed their heads. “Printcessa Tranquilli.” Didn’t require a translator for that bit of Russian. My unique power had shown them who they dealt with.

Smiley clapped and pushed off the wall. “Bravo. My brother was right about you.” He stepped between the two subjugated vamps.

[…]

Brother? Good grief, not another complication. Besnik knew my dead mother, this one’s brother knew me… I help up a hand in warning. “That’s close enough, Smiley.”

“Smiley?”

“Me Carina, you Smiley.”