Crimson Tears

Chapter Twelve

Cynthia

   "This Clad most go by another name." Walking out of the Opera auditorium, Cynthia paces in front of the building. It was not yet midnight, the tension misting in the air. "No vampire lives as long as Miguel claims this Clad states and not be known to us."

   "Unless this Clad is a fraud," Reane imputed.

   Cynthia frowned, dubious to Reane's words but considered.

   "I'm not saying he's not at least a century old. Maybe two. But, if he was as old as he claims. Several centuries. He'd not be interested in trying to pretend to be the next Dracula. He'd already been defined and built on a strong reputation of his own. Or Dracula himself would have taken out for the insult of the asshole." Reane waved her hand out, to the car across the street. "He uses humans." The car skirted off when she acknowledged it. "Even my grandma and pa doesn't rely on humans. They've either been around way too long or wouldn't risk an easy target."

   "You make a valid point." Cynthia nodded, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was anxious to end this. "I know he's more than a century at least, if he was able to control Miguel."

   Reane tapped her arm. "Come on. Let's go hunting."

~

"We keep coming up short. No fucking vampire knows this Clad which we both know is bull crap."

Reane crossed arms over her chest, considering all facts. "We've been handling this quiet."

"Quiet keeps the humans safe."

"They are being attacked anyway. Clearly he doesn't want to be found and no one is brave enough to give this Clad asshole up if they knew his location." Reane shrugged her shoulders.
"So let's make ourselves known."

Cynthia narrowed both eyes. "How do you suppose we do that?"

Carrying a malicious smile, Reane asked, "What do you do when you want to gain someone's attention."

In a incredulous tone, Cynthia whispered, "get loud."

"Exactly."

~

Reane

   The drink crashed to the floor, glass splattering, no longer holding value. The vampire that bumped into Reane, turned ready to start a fight. He stood five inches above, eyes blazing sapphire.

   "You going to apologize?" Reane asked, standing comfortable under his demeanor. She's tailed him a previous night, knowing he was involved in the human attacks. His eyes furrowed, clucking his tongue. "No?"

   "You shoved into me first." He studied Reane, with suspicious eyes. "You not from around here."

   Reane knocked on the counter, attracting the bartender. They were in a vampires club. From the pattern of the attacks, the club was at the center. "I need another glass of blood. Warm and at least forty years old."

   "I asked you a question." The vampire stepped in closer. If he wasn't dead, she would have been able to feel his breath on her forehead.

   "No, you didn't. But I'll say this. If you don't walk off...my mate will tear out your throat before I do."

   He searched around for her mate, finding Cynthia smiling with fangs exposed. His eyes narrowed, recognition forming as he took a second glance back toward Reane. His smile was a fraud as he walked off.

   The bartender bought her a drink. She picked it up and ambled to Cynthia with a charismatic grin. "For you."

   "Thank you." Cynthia leaned in and kissed her cheek. "You and your mom are two much alike."