Friday Flash Fiction, “Vampire Bounty Hunter”

Happy Friday!

Here is this weeks Flash Fiction.

I hope you enjoy this little story.  For those of you new to my flash fiction, I write these little stories and post them Friday.  The idea of the flash fiction is to bring you a short story in 2000 words or less, RAW and UNEDITED. 

Enjoy this little story to get you ready for the weekend.  Thank you for reading!

sexy couple

Vampire Bounty Hunter

by Theresa Hissong

Long story short, I’m a vampire.  I was born this way and not by the way humans believe.  All of the movies and television shows just don’t get it right.

My name is Sage and I’m two hundred and twelve years old.  I sleep at night and work during the day.  I eat human food, but once a week, I need fresh hot blood from a willing human.  If I was mated, I would snuggle up to my man and nip on his tasty neck for my weekly meal.  I worked for a living and I sure as hell didn’t sparkle.

My job is pretty simple. I am a bounty hunter and a money collector for the state.

Basically, I find the supernaturals that missed their court dates and bring them in to be processed.  Even more mundane things like collecting money owed for parking tickets, unpaid fines for speeding, and anything else referring to the anything owed to the state.  Easy?  Yeah, it sounds easy, but in all reality it is not.  Have you ever been zapped by a wizard who didn’t want to go to jail because he’d shacked up with a prostitute and got caught?  Only to be frozen in time for half an hour with no way to get free?  No, I didn’t think so.

Humans knew about us and pretty much didn’t care either way, as long as we didn’t disrupt their daily lives of board meetings, soccer games with their kids, or their morning Starbucks routine.

This is where I come in.  The supernatural community still had to abide by the humans laws.  Those who didn’t, well, they had to be brought in by someone who could handle their extra abilities.

“Hey Sage,” my friend, Carly, said.  “Where are you off too today?”

“Ahh, let’s see,” I said, opening up a manila folder I’d just picked up off my desk.  “Oh, yeah.  Werewolf, four hundred years old.  Didn’t pay a parking fine.  Hm, he’s cute.”  I turned the guy’s photo around to show her.

“Dayum,” she fanned herself.  “If you don’t want to cuff him, I will.”

“No, this one’s mine,” I wagged my brows.  The guy in the photo was hot as sin.  Dark brown hair cropped short to his head, deep brown eyes.  The man’s body was built like he lifted tanks for a living.  The photo was from his driver’s license and I couldn’t quite tell anything more about him, but with his good looks, I’m sure I’d find him with no problems.

“Have fun,” she giggled as I made my way out of the office and into my car.  Next stop, the Parker Ranch.  More specifically, the Parker Werewolf Pack.  My goal was the alpha, Evan Parker.

Upon arriving at the sprawling ranch, I was immediately intercepted by two men at the gate.  Each one was well over six foot tall and made with muscles upon muscles.

“Can I help you,” the dark brown haired one asked.  The slight quirk to the side of his lip told me he was interested into helping me with more than directions.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I smiled my most award winning smile.  Being a vampire, I naturally appealed to the other sex.  It’s part of my essential makeup.  We were just bread to be better looking, more appealing to our prey.  “What’s your name?”

“Sage Galleon,” I answered.  “I’m here to see your alpha. He has outstanding debt with the state and I’m here to collect.”  Flipping my badge, the werewolf looked it over to make sure I was who I said I was.

“I’ll call the house and you can go on through, just follow the road up to the main house,” he replied, reaching for the phone mounted on the wall of the little shack he and his buddy used to man the gates.

After his call, the wide iron gate slowly opened allowing me to pull forward.  The tree lined road went for almost a mile before opening up to a clearing where a mansion stood.  The place was beautiful.  The red brick home stood two stories tall.  From what I could tell, the porch wrapped around the entire house.  Children ran around in the front yard playing chase and women sat in rocking chairs while the little ones played amongst themselves.

I parked the car and grabbed my folder and gun.  My Glock was specially fitted with silver bullets in case I needed them.  These wolves seemed very trusting of a vampire, but this vampire wasn’t trusting of anyone.

Just as I stepped up on the porch, two things happened.  This amazing scent surrounded the door, musky and sweet all in the same breath.  My insides warmed and I closed my eyes and moaned as it enveloped me, dragging me forward.  The second thing was when the door opened, Evan Parker stood at the threshold, and his nose flared as he took in my scent.  My eyes closed in pleasure of getting that scent first hand.  Evan took one step toward me and reached for my hand, which I gave over with no reluctance.

“My mate,” he growled. The low sensual rumble to his deep baritone voice called to me.  My legs wobbled slightly and for the first time in my two hundred years, I lost my balance, falling into his arms.  His warmth surround me, his scent calling me home.  Indeed, Evan Parker was my mate.

“Mate,” I agreed.

“Name,” he cleared his throat, looking at me in in awe.  His deep brown hair was longer than in his picture, the bangs feathered off to the side.  The deep brown depths of his eyes bore into my emerald green ones, looking for something.  “Name, buso.”

“Sage,” I whispered, reaching out to touch his jaw.  The light amount of stubble tickled my fingers.

“Are you here for me,” he asked, a smug smile on his beautiful face.  My hands slid up his muscular arms, stopping at his shoulders.  Everything about this man screamed strength and power.  His was a foot taller than me, his arms were thick with corded muscles.  I shifted in his arms and my leg brushed against his tree trunk thick thighs.  My mind wandered to him naked, over me, pounding into my sex.

“You owe the state money for a parking fine,” I breathed.  My voice sounded deeper, more sultry than usual.  It was him, Evan.  His voice, his scent, drove me wild.

“Come inside,” he urged, taking my hand and pulling me through the door.

Once inside, I noticed the rustic feel to the home.  Exposed beams on the ceiling were stained to a dark finish.  The walls were painted a warm beige.  Expensive oil paintings of many different forests adorned the walls.  The furniture looked to be handmade by a skilled craftsman.  And for some reason, I felt like I’d just came home.

“Evan,” I spoke, as we walked into his office.  The same accents bled into this room, but the walls were lined with bookshelves inside of paintings.  Every wall was floor to ceiling books and the little girl in me almost giggled with all of the literature he had on display.  “What is going on?”

“I think you know the answer to that, ubava,” he replied, taking me into his arms.  I didn’t protest when he dropped his lips to mine, hovering, but not touching.

He was asking silently for my permission.  When I closed my eyes, he pressed his lips to mine and I was lost.  He enveloped me into his arms, his hand cupped my face tenderly after pushing a strand of my long, blonde hair behind my ear.  Evan’s tongue traced the seam of my lips and I opened to let him in.  He nipped at me, sipping and tasting me as if he was committing my taste to his memory. I didn’t complain, because I was doing it too.  His scent seared into my senses, marking my mind.  I would always know his scent.  My vampire senses would be able to find him anywhere.

“We’re mates,” I said, once he released my lips from his drugging kisses, but he did not let me go.  His huge hand was still cupping my face.  I nuzzled into his palm and closed my eyes.

“Yes we are,” he said, huskily. His accent told me he wasn’t from here and I couldn’t place his nationality, but it didn’t matter to me what or who he was. This man was my mate.

“I came to get your money,” I laughed.  “I guess I got more than I was needing.”

“True, little vampire,” he grinned.  “I will send you with the money, but I will not ever let you go.  You are mine, kolega.”

“What does that mean,” I asked.

“Mate,” he smiled.

“Where are you from,” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Macedonia,” he replied. “I came to the states about seventy-five years ago.”

Werewolves were like vampires, they lived forever.  Only severing their head would kill them.  Silver only slowed them down.  A silver bullet to the head would make them wish they could decapitate themselves.  It was a nasty way to go.

“How old are you,” I asked.

“Four hundred,” he smiled.  “I know it’s not polite to ask a woman her age.”  He left the statement open.  I laughed and shook my head.

“I’m two hundred and twelve,” I answered, still smiling at him.

“Are you a born vampire or turned,” he asked.  There was a difference and I’m sure the names explained it all.

“I was born,” I admitted.

“Wonderful,” he smiled, leaning in to kiss me once more, but we were interrupted by my phone.

“Galleon,” I answered.

“I need your help,” Carly panted on the other side of the line.

“What’s wrong,” I gasped.  Carly Desmond was not only my coworker, but my best friend.  She was a super strong witch and to hear her panting told me things were not good.

“Fucking demons,” she cursed again.  “He blasted me with some type of hellfire chains and I’m stuck in this warehouse down on Third Street. The bastard took off and left me here.”

“I’m on my way,” I promised.

“Thanks,” she said, curing again about getting trapped.

“I have to go,” I said, hanging up the phone.

“I heard,” Evan said, reaching for his coat.  He’d obviously heard what she said with his enhanced hearing.  “I’m coming with you.”

“Oh, no,” I shook my head.  “My boss will have my badge and my ass if I have a civilian with me on something like this.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he growled.  “You are my mate and anything that puts you in danger will cause my beast to go insane if I let you go alone.  I’m coming with you.”

“Great,” I rolled my eyes and started for the door, but stopped, spinning on my heels.

“What is it,” he asked, worry lines appeared at the crease of his eyes.

“You still owe me money,” I smiled, warmly.  “You can write a check on the way.”

The End……

About Author Theresa Hissong

International Best Selling Author of Contemporary & Paranormal Romance.
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