What a bloody mistake!
The spell worked. She didn’t even last a day. But she came prepared, with three of her buddies.
I returned the next day and she was there, stuck in my hotel room, searching for the spell binder. I had my pistol. One clean shot was all I needed. I stepped into the room confident as fuck and then… well then my world turned to shit. There was a second female vampire hiding in the room with her. Caught me off guard. I managed to get a shot off when she knocked me to the ground. Not a fatal shot, but it stopped her long enough for me to scramble back out into the corridor. They were trapped inside for now, and I was outside. Safe. Or so I thought. Two more women vampires were now waiting.
I’m not proud of it. I emptied my clip, gunning one down in a hail of bullets, winging the other. I then turned and ran.
I thought I was safe. It was daylight, so they couldn’t follow me. But an hour after that night fell they found me. I had become the hunted. The three survivors chased me out the city. I thought I lost them in Glasgow, but they were waiting for me there. I killed one of them in the ruins of Dublin, and a thrall back on mainland Brittan. Then I fled across the channel.
Now it’s been a week since I last saw them. I have no idea where they are, and they have no idea where I am. I know spells, to shield myself, and so I lay down salt at the openings to my room, a circle under my bed. I smear the door with lamb’s blood, I wrap silver around the door handle. I choke down garlic solution every night. I sleep with a loaded pistol under my pillow.
I’ll leave it a few more weeks. Sammy’s out there, looking for me. She won’t find me. She’ll think I’ve forgotten about her. I haven’t. She’s just on the back burner.
Now I’m in a shanty town on the other side of the channel. They call it Poste 5. Built out of the crumbling remains of what used to be an important port between the Dover and Calais. It’s the biggest free settlement I know of, other than York. Nearly five thousand people live here, free from vampire oppression. Well, almost free. I’ve heard of a clan holed up to the south. They come in the night, once or twice a month to spirit children away. Might be a story to scare the children. Might be more to it.
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