Carpathian 06 - Dark Fire

She would scream and fall apart later. Right now the important thing to do was get out. Run. Hide. Put as much distance between herself and that maniac as she could possibly manage before nightfall, when vampires allegedly arose. Right now, he had to be sleeping somewhere. God help her if he was in a coffin somewhere in the bus. She wasn't about to drive a stake through anyone's heart. It wasn't going to happen.
    "Go to the cops," she ordered herself softly. "Someone has to know about this."
    She lurched her way to the front of the bus. Glancing in a mirror to assure herself she still had a reflection, she winced at her appearance. The vampire had to be pretty hard up to come after someone who looked the way she did-like Frankenstein's bride.
    "Sure, Tempest," she said to her image, "you tell the police. Officer, a man bit my neck and sucked my blood. He's the guardian-uh, bodyguard-for a real popular singer and band. He's a vampire. Please go and arrest him." She wrinkled her nose at herself and deepened her voice. "Sure, miss. I believe you.
    And who are you, anyway? A homeless, penniless young woman with a record of running away from every foster home we ever put you in. Let's say we take a nice ride to the funny farm. After all, you do spend a lot of time talking to animals." She made a moue with her lips. "Yeah, that'll work."
    She found the bathroom, which proved amazingly luxurious, but cleaned up quickly rather than admiring her surroundings, showering, gulping as much water as she could. She changed into faded blue jeans and a fresh cotton top from the small backpack she always had with her.
    The moment she headed for the exit, however, both cats lifted their heads alertly and made sounds of protest. She sent them her regrets but slipped out before they could stop her by body-blocking the doors. She could feel their intentions, knew Darius had instructed them to keep her there should she awaken. Both snarled and screamed in anger as she made good her escape, but she didn't hesitate, slamming the door behind her and running away from the bus.
    She spent several minutes trying to locate the toolbox she always carried with her, but it was nowhere to be found. Cursing under her breath, she headed for the highway and began to jog. As soon as she put some miles between herself and that creature, she would be happy. Wouldn't you know she would find a vampire? Probably the only one in existence.
    She wondered why she wasn't fainting with fright. It wasn't every day a person met a vampire. And she couldn't even tell anyone. Ever. She would go to her grave the only human being alive to know that vampires really existed. She groaned. Why was she always getting herself into trouble? It was so like her to go out on a simple job interview and manage to encounter a vampire.
    She jogged for three miles, thankful that she liked to run, because not one single car had driven by in all that time. She slowed her pace and reached up to wrap her sweat-dampened hair into a ponytail again to Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    get it off her neck. What time was it? Why didn't she own a watch? Why hadn't she checked the time before she took off?
    After another hour or so of jogging and walking, she finally flagged down a car and managed to get a short ride. She felt abnormally tired and terribly thirsty. The couple who picked her up bubbled over with goodwill, but they wore her out with their energy, and she was almost glad to say good-bye and resume her jogging and walking.
    But this time she didn't cover much ground. She was so tired, her body felt like lead, and each step she took felt as if she were wading through quicksand.
    She sat down abruptly on the side of the road. Her head was beginning to pound with alarming force.
    She rubbed her temples and the nape of her neck, hoping to alleviate the pain.
    A small blue pickup truck pulled up beside her. It was a measure of her weakness that she could barely find the strength to get to her feet and go to the driver's window.
    The man was about forty, compact, and muscular. He smiled at her, his eyes holding a hint of worry.
    "Something wrong, miss?"
    Rusti shook her head. "I need a ride, though, if you're going any distance."
    "Sure, hop in." He pushed a pile of clutter from the seat to the floor. "The truck's a mess, but what the heck?"
    "Thanks. The weather looks like it's going to turn nasty." And it did. Unexpectedly, dark clouds began