High school senior Charlie Brock meets the new neighbour, Jerry Dandrige. He's dangerously charming and sexy- and utterly lethal. After Charlie makes the connection between Jerry's suspicious activity and a steadily rising body count, she finds hers...
Jerry should've known that Jane Brewster would turn out to be a fucking A-grade bitch. What breaks his heart though is that she actually had the nerve to stake him. It hurt, it hurt like he's was to go out of his fucking mind with pain and he's was not strong enough to tear the goddamn realtor's sign out of his back himself.
So he summons the first of his children he can think of. He summons Ed; who stares down at him ten minutes later in fascinated horror, slowly circling him like a hyena. Eventually, after Ed got the courage to do it, he braced a foot against his lower back and yanked hard. There's a second where the wood catches on the bone of his thoracic cavity, and Jerry howls, because fucking cocksucking piece of shit, it fucking hurt and the stake is almost scraping against his goddamn heart, for the love of Christ.
But then stake came sliding free and his organs rearranged themselves into their proper places; the sweet thrill of bone and tissue knitting back together like a building crescendo in his veins. Jerry breathes deep, feels the delicious drag of air he doesn't actually need to fill his lungs.
He lets Ed find them and it led him into Peter Vincent's penthouse. Peter Vincent grew up real well. A bit on the cowardly side, what with the hiding and running into his fucking motel room like a classic B-movie slasher-flick heroine, but what are you gonna do when a vampire killed your parents when you were just a little kid? Still, Jerry wishes he'd at least have eased up on all the Gothic horror paraphernalia a bit. It's depressing as shit and kind of kitsch.
He felt Ed battling against Charlie. He's losing, slowly but steadily. The fact that half his right arm is missing just adds to the impediment and Jerry feels the first tendrils of worried annoyance rise up before he gets a little distracted.
Jamie shot at him with silver bullets - and Jerry has a moment to spare Peter a thought along the lines of, Really? Fucking werewolves? - and when that doesn't work her wannabe boyfriend tries holy water. Now, it stung like a bitch, so much like acid, but he healed quickly than being stake.
Jerry straightens up, the steam of his face highlighted by the light of the room. His eyes are black and his teeth are sharp and his face stops steaming, healed completely. He noticed the scent of burning ash- Charlie killed Ed. He never thought she would have the guts to kill her best friend. He gives her credit, anyone has the guts to kill a loved one who's given to the gift.
He then follows their scent.
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