Midnight Lover. Rosemary Laurey

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its upper lip, baring teeth that even impressed a vampire.

      No wonder it had ripped that dog’s throat out! Any animal smaller than a rhinoceros would come off second-best in a tangle with a chupacabra.

      And he, Toby Wise, was going to have to deal with it. A polite request to vacate the vicinity was unlikely to be effective.

      Damn and double damn.

      Oh, well. No point in dillydallying. As the chupacabra turned and set off across the field, no doubt in search of more livestock or domestic animals to savage, Toby dropped from the tree, landing just a couple of meters in front of it.

      The creature paused in its tracks for about three seconds. As Toby decided the thing stank even worse at close quarters, the chupacabra lunged, vicious teeth bared, obviously aiming for his throat. Toby thanked Abel for vampire reflexes as he leapt over the creature and landed behind it.

      It spun around, almost as fast as Toby, but he had it puzzled. After all, dogs and sheep lacked a vampire’s jumping ability and speed. The delay was only momentary. The chupacabra snarled again and, as Toby moved in to grab it by the throat, raked his arms with its claws.

      The wounds stung, but not enough to slow a vampire. Toby tightened his grip and, ignoring the hissing and the slashing claws, lifted it off its feet.

      It promptly ripped his trousers and opened a gash in Toby’s thigh, proving its hind claws were every bit as sharp, and somehow, despite Toby’s grasp, it swiveled its neck and bit his wrist.

      Damn! Toby tightened his hold, the creature’s choking gasps echoing in the night. Toby hated killing, despised needless bloodshed, but this creature could not be permitted to plague the neighborhood.

      Maintaining his grasp, he swung the animal around and slammed it on the ground, bringing his knee down on its chest and pressing his arm across its throat.

      It was several long minutes before the chupacabra took its last breath.

      Once sure it was dead, Toby released his grasp and stood up. It was now pitch dark, not that that was any impediment to a vampire. He looked at the limp creature sprawled in the dirt and wondered from which pit of hell it had emerged. He really should be acclaimed as the savior of Dark Falls, but he’d settle for making life easier for Adela.

      He looked around, wondering where to put the creature so its corpse would be conveniently found by the local populace, when he heard distant engines.

      Tucking the chupacabra among a clump of bushes, where it was unlikely to be found until he was ready, Toby headed toward the road.

      A convoy of assorted cars, jeeps and pickup trucks passed by where Toby hid among the trees. Why? There was nothing up here except Adela’s house. They’d already passed the drive to the neighbor who’d dumped the damn dog in her back garden.

      They had to be heading for Adela’s house. Maybe the deputy did have a good reason for getting her away, which meant he knew, or darn well had an good inkling, what was going on. In fact, damned if he wasn’t bringing up the rear.

      Fine! Adela was far from harm now and Toby felt like putting a spanner in the works of whatever nastiness the local yokels had in mind.

      Stopping only to strip off his pale blue shirt, as it was rather a flag in the dark—perhaps he should start conforming and wear black like any respectable vampire—he tossed the remnants of pale silk into the woods and followed the vanguard.

      He should have stripped off his trousers as well. They were navy and good camouflage, not that he needed it in the night—black skin gave its own cover—but the darn chupacabra had ripped his left trouser leg from midthigh to below the knee, and the fabric flapped as he ran. But he wasn’t about to stop again; he darn well wasn’t letting the marauding locals out of his sight.

      He’d been right. They stopped in a cluster in front of Adela’s house, headlights shining as they gathered in a knot just beyond the front lawn. There were twelve, perhaps fifteen of them. No, another group of half a dozen piled out of an SUV. There had to be twenty.

      What sort of cowards had to mass in such numbers against a lone woman? He had to chuckle. They had no idea whom she had on her side. Twenty to one was about even between mortals and vamps. He stayed in the shadows of the trees; no need to reveal himself when he could hear quite well at a distance.

      Seemed there was a bit of disagreement over exactly how to proceed. Good, let the mortals dither and delay. Toby looked around; the ground sloped a little and some of the cars were parked rather carelessly. How considerate of the owners to leave them unlocked. Saved him the bother of breaking in.

      He slipped close to the most convenient, opened the door and took the car out of Park. After closing the door carefully, Toby nudged the bumper with his foot.

      The resulting crash diverted attention from the main project. Several men gathered around offering advice on how to shift the car off the tree, and ribbing “Ted” on having left the car in Neutral. Ted expressed his disgust at the slander. A couple of them took his part and it looked as if a nice fracas was brewing, until a more focused, and less easily distracted, member of the company reminded them they’d come to “smoke out the damn witch,” not fuss over a few dents and scratches.

      It was going to be tricky to adhere to colony ethics and desist from harming mortals. Toby could argue these specimens were subhuman, but that point was specious at best. Better toe the line, but the code said nothing about hindering and inconveniencing mortals.

      While they had a little fun breaking windows and yelling epithets certain to mortify their mothers, Toby grabbed fistfuls of dirt and grass and blocked up a few exhaust pipes. Crude but likely to irritate. He was pondering the wisdom of smashing a few windshields when a voice rose above the others, suggesting they’d done enough.

      It was drowned out by a mob baying for blood. Long-suppressed memories burned in Toby’s mind. Horror clamped his gut, but damn! He was vampire! Nothing they did could harm him now. Seemed Adela’s apparent absence enraged them. Dear Abel, had they really planned to harm her?

      Definitely! Fuel cans were produced, and as Toby crept closer—not much caring at this point if he was seen—a select few doused the front and back porches and the shrubs and door with petrol.

      Bastards!

      Anger roiled in his mind. Thank Abel Adela had called him. What sort of mortal did this to another? Right, if he knew the answer to that he’d hold the key to world peace. Meanwhile, a gray-haired man who looked like every child’s dream grandpa, tossed a lighted match toward the front steps.

      The vapor ignited with a loud rush, followed a moment of quiet before the first flames roared, burning through the azaleas and catching the wooden trellis beside the front door. Minutes later, the front door went up in flames and the crowd cheered.

      And through it all, the deputy stood apart, watching.

      That did it!

      While the monsters watched and cheered—Toby half-expected to see them dance around the flames—he ran back to the rocks and pulled out the limp body of the chupacabra.

      He was back in minutes, settling the noxious carcass in the driver’s seat of the deputy’s cruiser. The vehicle would never be the same.

      With the mob engrossed in destruction, Toby only needed

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