Celis T. Rono - By That Which Bites Page 0,48

by Trench’s people.” He sighed, yet again. “You see, it was my fault for overreaching my bounds.”

Liquid fell on Sainvire’s cheek. It wasn’t his.

Vampires were incapable of crying. He looked up to see Poe’s eyes huge with tears. She clutched at his black shirt as if about to rip it to shreds.

“It wasn’t your fault, not entirely.” Poe’s voice was heavy with grief. “It was mine, too.”

Sainvire leaned forward and dug his hands on either side of her arms. “Don’t say that,” he commanded. “You went up to the clock tower by yourself to rescue them. You were surrounded by vicious–”

Poe shook her head. “No! I should’ve left my bunker sooner but…but–”

She cried hard, clutching at Sainvire’s shirt. “But I didn’t! I was too much of a coward!” She stabbed a number two pencil at his chest, but not hard enough to do any damage. “It took two weeks to convince myself to go out and look for them. At least you were off 133

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doing something important. While I watched videos and sat it out, my friends were being bled to death.”

Sainvire put his arm around her, only to be pushed roughly away. Poe slumped back to her chair. With the back of her hand, she wiped the drops on her cheek.

She kicked herself for being so damn weak in front of Sainvire. Some crybaby vampire killer she turned out to be.

Sainvire restrained himself from embracing the young woman fighting hard not to weep. Apparently they had two things in common: their love for their dead friends and the guilt they suffered over their deaths. No matter what the other said, the guilt would lie in both.

Quietly he rose.

“You can sleep on the bed. I thank you for listening to me. I know how tired you must be.” He bowed and walked away, closing the door behind him.

Poe stared after him, her nose red and runny. I must look disgusting and weak to him. For some reason, this thought bothered her quite a bit, for shouldn’t she have been dwelling on her guilt instead of what the vampire thought of her?

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CHAPTER 5–POE ON CAPOEIRA

OUTSIDE, GRAY CLOUDS REJOICED as feelers of lightning pierced the sky, creating a smoky afterburn across the downtown skyline. Rain, not wanting to be outdone, poured out in great pelts. Wind came, slapping palm tree fronds and ejecting their rat inhabitants to the concrete jungle below. With a pillow over her head, Poe slept through the clutter. It was a little past noon. Just like the storm raging outside the window, she was oblivious to the figure that studied her sleeping form, the observer’s fist clenching and unclenching. Satisfied with what he saw, the man made a hasty exit.

Inside the library was a bustle of activity not unlike the storm outside. If the comings and goings of the lower level were viewed from the air, ant-like figures in white robes would have been seen packing Plasmacore bags into crates. Once the boxes were filled and packed in bubble wrap and foam, vampires and halfdeads lifted them effortlessly onto the waiting trucks in the parking garage. What couldn’t be seen from above were the newly awakened humans ready to replace the night shift workers. The operation was quite involved and organized. And every detail was recorded by memory by the ever-watchful eyes of a spy.

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Down in the library basement slept about four dozen vampires, getting needed respite from the night’s work and the sun. The spying eyes counted the vampires occupying the ground floor and made another mental note.

Lightning projected phantasmagoric shadow and light from the sundry stained glass and other windows of the library not covered by tar. The mole stopped within earshot of three beings talking intently by the elevator.

“I’m done with being a traveling salesman,” said Sainvire. “From now on, I’m staying put. I’ll never let anything happen to our people again because of a utopian dream.”

“It’s no dream. Many of your kind have already taken to Plasmacore,” said Perla.

“You just want to stay because of the girl,” teased Joseph. “She’s a looker, that one.”

The spy listened as Sainvire, Joseph, and Perla discussed the girl named Poe. As soon as Sainvire turned to study the pillar he was hiding behind, the operative pivoted and headed toward the escalator on the other side of the hall.

“Who was that?” Sainvire asked.

“Oh, he’s the new phlebotomist,” Perla volunteered. “He’s the human our sweepers found wandering around Santa Monica few months ago.”

“I have the oddest

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