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Dhampir Hunter - Chapter Three
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The sun shone down brightly over the seemingly endless expanse of sandy wasteland, bringing the already intolerable temperature of the desert up a notch. Few in number were those who ventured into this land; few were foolish or desperate enough to risk death by dehydration or sunstroke.
As a result, no one saw the lone figure on the single-person vehicle, sand kicked up in the wake of the rapidly spinning wheels. Her short, dark hair whipped around her face, frantic and lost without the restraints of helmet or hat. Her crimson gaze was set forward, focused on the small sight of a town in the distance.
Food. Water. Fuel.
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C-R-A-S-H!
"He's drunk again."
Shifter's gaze narrowed as he struggled to right himself after falling from the barstool. Drunk but not deaf, asshole he thought. He kept silent. It took all his concentration to climb to his feet without stumbling anyway.
"All right, Shif, I think you've had enough," announced the bartender in that gruff authoritative voice he possessed. Shifter couldn't remember the man's name for the life of him.
"But I still have money," replied Shifter, digging into his pockets. He couldn't understand why they did this to him. Despite his somewhat unkept appearance, he wasn't there to drown his sorrows. There were no problems with women, no money troubles. He hadn't had any trouble with vampires, werewolves, or ghouls. He just didn't enjoy the state of sobriety...and he had money to burn.
"Sorry Shif, your father would have my ass if I served you alcohol in that condition."
There was that. The fact that Shifter was the only son of Mayor Lawrence Thacker, the richest and most influential man around was the only thing standing between Shifter and further inebriation. Even at the age of twenty-six Shifter still couldn't escape his father.
"Fine," he snapped, slurring his words. "I'll take my patronage elsewhere!" He turned and sauntered out, successfully leaving the bar without falling on his face. His success didn't last long though. He tripped on the front porch, but instead of landing on the unyielding ground, he was stopped by something soft and warm. "Huh?"
"Whoa." The statement was followed by a laugh that was feminine and good-natured.
Shifter looked up to see a somewhat attractive face, with pale skin, dark lips and crimson eyes all framed by soft and somewhat curly black hair. Crimson eyes...dhampir.
The woman turned her head to avoid the stench of alcohol on his breath. "You, my friend, have had too much alcohol. You reek of beer." She moved to sit him down on one of the nearby chairs that were located on the bar's front porch. After making sure he was comfortable she gave him a pat on the shoulder and entered the bar, leaving him to his own devices.
Striding up to the bar, she seated herself at a vacant stool and gave the bartender a gesture. "I'll have a Bloody Mary." She smiled, realizing the irony of the statement. Seconds later, the bartender returned with her order. She thanked him and took hold of the glass, bringing it to her lips.
Suddenly the glass exploded in her hand. The tomato juice spilled out all over her lap, mixing with the blood that splattered from the newly opened gunshot wound in the flesh of her palm. Turning slowly, she settled her gaze on the man with a gun and an angry expression on his face.
He shoots me and then he's angry? The woman shook out her hand, taking just a moment to check the wound. Not too bad. It would be healed by the morning, though it was rather amusing to be able to see through one's own hand. Sighing, she addressed the man. "If you wanted my attention, you could have simply tapped me on the shoulder."
"We don't want your kind here."
Playing innocent, she retorted with. "My kind?"
"You know what I mean, half-breed."
Her mood, which up until then had been relatively jovial (even with the hole in her hand), darkened considerably. How do they always manage to pick me out? She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, her crimson eyes roving to meet those of her reflection. Aha! A clue! "You throw around such hateful words, especially for someone who's supposed to set an example for others." She nodded to indicate to the badge on his chest that bore the title of 'Sheriff'.
"Ma'am I am telling you to get out of this town. Now." He moved his arm, settling the aim of the gun on her head.
After a beat she sighed and held up her hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'm gone." Without giving it a second thought, she turned her back on the gun-wielding sheriff and strode out. When she was outside she dropped her hands to her sides and cursed. "After a welcome like that I feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I don't think I can handle much more of this."
She trudged down the front three steps to find that her bike was missing. "Oh you have got to be kidding me." She looked up and down the street before spotting it at the fueling station. What the hell? How did it get there? She jogged down the street and when she reached it, the calm sound of the fuel filtering into her vehicle was the only one she could pick up on. With a metallic click, the pump shut off. As quietly as possible she disengaged the feed from her vehicle. The sound of another vehicle approaching drew her attention and she turned, her hands wandering to her waist, where her weapons were hidden.
Shifter waved to her from atop his four-wheeled vehicle. When he reached her he cut the engine but didn't climb off of the vehicle. "Hiya Ma'am. I saw your motorbike needed fuel and figured I would save you the trouble."
The woman blinked. "Uhm, thank you. Thank you very much." She checked her back up tank, which had also been filled. Her eyes traveled back to his, suspicion in her own crimson gaze. "And you did this out of the goodness of your heart?"
Shifter looked guilty. "Well I was hoping you would take me with you."
The woman gave him an incredulous look. "You want me to take you with me?" she murmured, echoing his words. She put a hand on her hip and stared at him. "You do know I'm a dhampir, right?"
He shrugged. "Yeah, I know."
She studied him for a moment longer then shrugged. "As long as you don't slow me down and you can defend yourself, you're welcome to tag along." Silently she added and don't be annoying. She straddled her bike and gunned the engine. She never tired of the sound of that engine. "What's your name, kid?"
"Shifter," he called back, starting the engine on his own vehicle. "What about you? What's your name?"
"Arcane."
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