alleyway and went back to my bike.
As expected, there was Allenby, leaning against it and giving me a cold, furious stare.
“You just can’t leave well enough alone, can you?” he said as I approached.
I smiled. He was alone, obviously waiting for his friends to arrive.
“Neither can you,” I said, standing eye to eye with my arms crossed.
“You fucking bitch,” he said, and punched my ribs.
I barely felt his hand bounce off my side. “You stupid, fucking cretin. You want to go another few rounds with me?”
“Cunt,” he said and aimed another futile punch to my stomach.
It bounced off.
I knocked him over backward with a slap.
He gave a wordless snarl of rage, leapt to his feet, and raced toward me. I let him crash tackle me, and we went down in a tangle of arms and legs.
We pummeled each other like a pair of testosterone laden schoolboys. I pulled all of my punches so he was bruised by them, but not too damaged.
Finally blood spilled down his face from a split lip and his chest heaved. I put a booted foot on his chest.
He struggled.
“No, I don’t think so,” I said. “Don’t push me or I’ll kill you.”
“Fuck off, you bitch!”
“Thank you, I think I will,” I said and removed my foot. Before he could blink I was on my bike and roaring off down the road.
I felt restless; the fight with Allenby had worked off some of my excess energy, but I still felt terrible. I wanted to go out, but I wanted to be alone.
Unable to decide what I wanted to do, I went home and slumped in my recliner, tortured by the pain I had seen in Bronwyn’s beautiful, bright green eyes.
The following night, I went into the city to feed. Bronwyn had not come home. I was restless and aching. I wanted her. When I drove down Darlinghurst Road, I saw Allenby. He was with a group of rough-looking men, and he scanned the motorcycles that passed them.
I pulled up into a side street and parked, and then quietly snuck back to them and hid so I could watch him.
His posture was tense, and he reminded me of a coiled snake. I thought he was looking for me but rejected the idea. He wasn’t just looking at the Japanese bikes; he was looking at them all. A couple of riders even looked like me, but he didn’t display any reaction to them.
Something about his savage demeanor set my teeth on edge. Even though I was in the shadows, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he could see me. My skin crawled.
I quietly backed away from him and went back to my car. I wasn’t in the least surprised to see a young man holding onto my car and puking into the gutter. I took him and left his unconscious body in the bushes.
I headed back toward Allenby, but stopped.
I could feel a presence, another vampire, in the street behind me. I could feel waves of anger and loathing radiating from it. I stared into the shadows, trying to find it, but I couldn’t see anything. I stood still for a few minutes, but they kept their distance, despite the viciousness I could sense. I tried to push the feelings aside as I went back to Darlinghurst Road to watch Allenby.
I had almost reached him when it finally caught up with me. I was surprised it followed me. I stopped and turned, and felt it coming closer to me. I tensed, preparing myself to fight. I caught a blur of movement beside me and a shadowy figure grabbed me by the collar and hurled me backwards. I sailed through the air, landed with a thump, and skidded on my back almost all the way back to my car.
I was immediately back on my feet, poised to fight, but the presence was gone.
I relaxed and sighed, hoping it was over. It wasn’t the first time that I’d encountered a vampire like that, and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with one now. All I wanted was Bronwyn.
I lost my interest in Allenby. I had done what I needed to do, I had fed, now I wanted to go home and wait.
I got into my car with a sigh, and thirty minutes later was sitting in my recliner, the strains of my favorite music in the
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