Page 57 of Feral
“Can I?” Bowie asks.
Syn’s eyes heat as he looks at his man. “By all means.”
Without any build up, Bowie’s eyes flash and he opens his mouth in a wild smile, showing sharp fangs. He lunges at the guy Syn is holding, digging into his neck while the man screams.
“Fuck!” One of the men Thorn is holding screams. “What the fuck?”
Bowie pulls off the guy, his mouth covered in blood. “I suggest spilling what you know or you’re next. I’m very hungry.”
He bites the guy again, who is so scared the front of his pants darken as he pisses himself. The other two men exchange panicked looks, one of them nodding to the other.
“Okay, okay,” the man in Thorn’s clutches says while Syn holds the other one by the neck. “We’ll tell you where to find them.”
“Now,” Hale says, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Warehouse on Country Road. It’s the only one still standing out there.”
“How many are there?” Hale asks.
The man shakes his head. “Not sure. Maybe twenty. They have a meth thing going. We sell for them sometimes.”
Thorn growls. “They heavily armed?”
Both men nod. “Yeah. There’s some guy up north they work for I think, but we don’t know his name. Swear.”
Bowie lets go of the third guy, dropping him to the ground. He’s alive, clutching his wounded neck and staring at us in shock. Bowie wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Kyson is practically vibrating behind Thorn, and I’m curious why he seems so excited by what’s happening, but then Hale lets out a quiet moan.
“What’s going on?” I ask in a whisper.
Hale parts his lips, revealing his fangs. “Bloodlust. Bowie triggered us.”
I blink rapidly. “The sight of blood makes you…?”
“Hungry,” Hale supplies. “But I can wait until we find our true target.”
“Thanks for your help, boys,” Thorn says, smacking one on the cheek.
We head back to the vehicle, drawing even more attention now. Everyone witnessed the interaction, but it’s dark enough now that most probably didn’t see the details. And what would those guys even say? Some guy bit my neck and drank my blood? People around here would assume meth head before they even considered vampire.
Once we’re all in the car again, Thorn tears off.
“Does he always drive like this?”
“Yes,” everyone answers at the same time while Thorn just cackles.
Syn’s phone rings and he answers. “Hey, Yves. Where are you guys?” He pauses, nodding. “Understood. See you soon.” After he ends the call, tucking his phone in his pocket, he gazes at Bowie, using his thumb to wipe a drop of blood from his chin before licking it off. “They went on a side mission. Saw some suspicious activity downtown and followed. He’ll let us know what he finds.”
It doesn’t take us long to exit the freeway and turn down a dark road that’s more gravel than asphalt. The only sound is the tires moving over the uneven ground, and except for a very dim light ahead, it’s pitch black. Then the outline of a building comes into view and I see that’s where the light is coming from. There are about six cars out front, but no one seems to be outside.
“Bullseye,” Thorn says, turning the headlights off as we approach.
“I can’t see shit,” I whisper.
“We can,” Hale replies. “Are you sure you want to come with us? You can stay in the car.”
“No way. I’ll be careful and stay out of the way, but I want them to see my face and know that it was me who brought you here. I want them to know exactly how they fucked up.”
Hale smiles, brushing his thumb over my chin. “I love how you think.”