Excerpt

The vampire doesn't come for me. No. It's the whisper of clothing on clothing that catches my attention. Not the normal sound of clothing when someone's walking but from an arm being grabbed. It's a subtle difference, but it's one I've had to learn to distinguish.

I glance into the nearby alley. Two forms are there, one taller and leaning over the other. Even if it's not the vampire, I want to check this out. I don't normally interfere with matters between people, but if I need to, I will.

"You will hold still," the man says, his words hardly audible, the strength and power of conviction in them enough to make me pause mid-step.

He's a vampire all right, and he's using his power of forced will on the woman.

But is he the right vampire or not?

Doesn't matter. I don't want her to be bitten.

I take a step closer and eye his ears. They're pointed. Yes, this vampire has a fairy ancestor somewhere along the way.

This is the one I'm to take out.

Without delay, I whip out my pistols. "Leave her alone!" I call out as I shoot both of my weapons.

One of the shots goes wide, but the other buries itself into his shoulder. The vampire draws back and hisses at me. At the sight of his bloodstained teeth, I curse myself. I had been too late. The human has been bitten.

But that's only one strike—one stake?—against me. Strike or stake two is from the vampire not falling to the ground. He's not dying.

The vampire releases his hold on the human, and she slinks to the ground. He brings his hand up and wipes the blood from his chin with the back of his hand.

I fire again and again, but the vampire stalks toward me at an exaggeratedly slow pace. Even though I'm hitting him, he's not reacting from pain.

The stupid genie. He got the age of the vampire wrong. Fangs here is far older than my client thought, so I didn't use a strong enough dose.

I toss my worthless pistols aside. They're too hot from being shot so many times for me to put them away immediately. My right hand opens the pouch attached to my upper thigh, and my fingers curl around small iron balls as my left retrieves a dagger from inside my boot.

The vampire's foot slams against my chest, and I go down hard. In seconds, he's on top of me.

"Stupid collar," he gripes. "Stupid buttons."

I wiggle beneath him, more to distract him than to try to dislodge him, and I bring the hilt of the dagger against his throat.

"Don't move," I warn him.

He goes to knock the dagger from my hand. "You do not tell me—"

I shove an iron ball into his mouth.

The vampire gags and tries to spit it out, but I use the hilt of the dagger to keep the ball in place. Not all paranormal creatures can be injured by iron, but a good majority can.

The vampire foams at the mouth. His body twists and convulses. His body is like a dead weight on me, and by the time I can shove his fallen off my body, I realize he's actually dead.

That was fast. The bullets must've hurt him some even if he didn't outwardly show it.

Abandoning him for now, I rush over to the woman. Her glassy, lifeless eyes don't see me, and I mutter a curse. Stake three. I didn't prevent her from being bitten or from dying.

"I'm sorry," I murmur as I close her eyes.

From my pouch, I remove a small vial and sprinkle some fairy dust onto her wound. Although she's dead, the skin still heals. I can't have anyone realizing she died from puncture marks from fangs.

Furious, I march back over to the vampire. He won't turn to ash until the sun rises. With my dagger, I cut out his fangs.

Will the genie be happy with me? He had better be because I am not happy with myself.

Once it's dawn, I call the police and leave an anonymous tip for them to check the alley. I don't want the woman to be left in the alley longer than is necessary. She deserves to be claimed by her loved ones.

I'm sorry. I'll do better next time.

I'm Rebel, supernatural bounty hunter, but sometimes, I still make mistakes.