Sweet Last Drop. Melody Johnson

branches slapped the windshield and scraped against the side doors as we dipped and popped in and out of man-sized potholes. I winced in sympathy for his tires. The road could hardly be considered a road, even for Erin, and I remembered from Walker’s brief tour of the town this morning that it led somewhere specific.

      “What’s at the end of this drive?”

      Walker’s jaw tightened.

      “If we drove deeper into the woods would we—”

      “You can’t let it go, can you?”

      I blinked. “I’m just making conversation.”

      Berry pulled out onto the paved road, and his arm lifted from the window frame in a backhanded wave. Walker waved back, turning right out of the woods.

      He sighed. “The trail leads to Gretel’s Tavern. It’s not technically a road. It’s his driveway.”

      “His?”

      “Buck McFerson.”

      I opened my mouth to push my luck with another question, but a shadow moved on the edge of the tree line up ahead.

      We still had a few hours of daylight. The sun’s rays streamed across the expanse of the road and dappled in glowing spots over the median and into the woods, but on the inner edge of the woods, where the tree line darkened from its leafy canopy and sunlight couldn’t quite reach a shadow within the shadows, two glowing orbs blinked through the leaves.

      “Walker, there’s—”

      “Don’t start,” he snapped. “I’d like to escape from work sometime during the day, and preferably with you, but if you can’t separate church from state, then—”

      I squeezed my nails into his bicep. “There’s a vampire up ahead.”

      Chapter 2

      Walker’s muscle flexed under my hand. He stared ahead for a moment, and I knew the moment he caught sight of its reflective eyes. Walker’s hand tightened in a trembling vise around the steering wheel. “We can’t catch a fucking break.”

      “The sun hasn’t set. How is it out?”

      “She keeps to the shadows.” Walker took his foot off the gas and sighed. “Daylight doesn’t impede her or her abilities anymore as long as she avoids direct sunlight.”

      I glared at Walker’s speedometer. “Why are we slowing down? Do you know her?”

      “Of course I know her.” His grip on the steering wheel creaked. “There’s an old train overpass up ahead.”

      “Walker, I don’t think stopping is the best—”

      “Bex can’t withstand direct sunlight without bursting into flames, but she’ll make short work of us if we cross into the shadows under the overpass.”

      Bex. I glanced at her again and the road up ahead, and sure enough, the overpass cast its shadow across both lanes, effectively road-blocking our drive.

      “So speed up! What could she possibly accomplish in the few seconds we’re under the overpass?”

      His jaw clenched. “This truck is fairly new. I don’t want her denting its grill again.”

      I blinked. “She’s done this before?”

      “If we don’t stop on our own, she’ll make us stop.”

      I shook my head, both aggravated and impressed. As per my usual experience in dealing with vampires, Bex left us with very few choices, all of which ended in her favor. “She chose this position to deliberately block us, knowing you would stop.”

      “Or hoping I wouldn’t.” Walker flipped up the center console. “Take your pick.”

      I peered into the console’s depths and shook my head in appreciation of its contents. “You’re certainly prepared,” I said, hefting a familiar item in my palm. It looked like a pen, but when I clicked the top mechanism, a wooden stake sprang from its tip.

      “Always.”

      “This one’s new,” I commented, picking up a men’s Invicta skeleton wristwatch. It seemed like a simple watch, but nothing in Walker’s arsenal of weapons was ever what it seemed.

      He grinned. “One of my newest, actually. The hands detach from the watch on a pressurized spring and fire from the twelve like little spears.” He pointed to the tip of one of the watch hands. “The arrowhead design of the watch hands anchor the shot in place, or at least, I’m hoping it will. Once shot, the spear should be impossible to remove without creating more damage.”

      “Let me guess… silver?”

      “It’s effective. Why deviate from what works?”

      “Very true.” I placed the watch back into its holder in the console. “I think I’ll just stick with my silver nitrate,” I said, reaching into my jacket to pull out the spray I always carried with me, but my fingers slipped through a hole in my right pocket. “Shit.”

      Walker raised his eyebrows.

      “I had spray with me this morning.” I abandoned my pocket and tightened my hand around the pen-stake. “Maybe I should hang on to this after all.”

      “You do that. And take more silver nitrate as well. More never hurt.”

      “Thanks.” I snatched a can of the silver spray from the console and shut its lid. I preferred the silver nitrate over the stake because if a vampire turned the spray against me, it wouldn’t harm me. I couldn’t say the same about a wooden stake. One stab through the heart would kill me as effectively as it would kill them.

      I actually had more than Walker’s weapons as protection against vampires, including new silver earrings I’d bought to match the silver necklace Dominic had given me, but I couldn’t tell Walker about the necklace. A vial of Dominic’s blood hung from the chain in a hollow, glass pendant. I’d shied away from wearing it when Dominic had first bestowed the gift—in general, I made a habit of avoiding jewelry containing bodily fluids—but his blood could heal injuries when applied topically. Anything that could do that was more precious than silver nitrate and stakes combined. Inevitably, no matter the caliber of weapons we carried, I’d need to heal in some capacity after interacting with vampires.

      I swallowed nervously as the Chevy rolled to a halt a few feet shy of the shadows. “Just because she’ll burn, doesn’t mean she won’t cross into the sunlight anyway. Dominic once deliberately melted his hand on silver just to prove a point. They don’t think of pain and injuries like we do because they heal so quickly.”

      “I know,” Walker said. He opened his truck door. “But she won’t.”

      “I don’t want to bet my life on it.”

      “It’s not a bet. It’s guaranteed. Bex is very careful not to remind me of her true nature. She doesn’t threaten me with her fangs or claws like Dominic. She never allows herself to burn or growl in front of me. I’ve seen her drink blood from a wine glass, for God’s sake, as if that’s more civilized than drinking it from the vein. After all her time and efforts to seduce me, I doubt she’ll stop now.”

      I snorted. “I’m doubting,” I said, but despite my reservations, I gripped the door’s handle and stepped out of the truck to face Walker’s Master.

      Bex was fully disguised in human-illusion, as I referred to it. Dominic had a similar look right after he fed, like the blood swelled his muscles, shined his hair, and smoothed his skin to healthy perfection, so he looked deceptively human without any of our human flaws. Bex was no exception. Her body, though feminine, was lean and sculpted. She wore dark skinny jeans, brown cowboy boots, and a fitted tee as if she were just another hometown heartbreaker. Her bronze locks swayed in gentle waves past her shoulders, and her glowing complexion looked smooth and tempting. Despite the act, as valiant an effort