Hey, she shot back.
I smiled and gave her a small wave. She stuck her tongue out at me.
“Your kid?” he asked.
“My monster.”
“She’s cute for a monster,” he said.
I like him, thought Tammy.
Shh, I hissed silently. And stop being so nosy.
“So what do you do?” he asked.
“I’m a private investigator.”
“Serious?”
“Serious as my mortgage payment.”
“I used to be a private eye,” he said.
I snapped my head up. “Maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s where I know you.”
“I doubt it. I worked in L.A. and mostly I worked alone.”
“Damn.”
He grinned. “Double damn.”
“So, you write books under Jon?”
“No, I use a pen name.”
I raised my eyebrows. Maybe I had read his books after all. “What’s your pen name?”
He looked at me for a long moment. “No,” he finally said.
“No, what?”
“No, I won’t tell you.”
My heart sank even as my frustration rose. “I could make you tell me.”
“Because you’re a mad mom in a minivan?”
“Because I have my ways,” I said. “Why won’t you tell me your pen name?”
“Because this is more fun.”
“To walk off into the sunset and we’ll always wonder?”
“Something like that. Except I’m going to get into my SUV and drive over to my sister’s house for dinner.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “Yes, I do.”
He laughed some more and began gathering his bags, and as he did so, I noticed the time on his watch was two hours fast.
“Your watch is off,” I said.
He frowned and looked down. “Off?”
“It’s two hours fast.”
He looked again. “No it’s the right time.” He looked at me as I’d lost my marbles. Maybe I had. I looked at the time on my iPhone. Yup, his was two hours off. I showed him the time difference.
He leaned over and looked. “Weirdness.”
Then, when he had everything packed, he turned to me and said, “Well, it was certainly fun meeting you, whoever you are.”
“Don’t you want my name?”
“No.”
“Rot in hell,” I said, and crossed my arms.
He laughed loudly, throwing back his head. When he was done, he slung his cool satchel over his shoulder. “Till we meet again.”
“Bastard.”
He smiled and nodded and left through the side doors. As he passed Tammy, he gave her a small wave. She smiled and waved back.
Once outside, he looked back at me through the big glass window. He winked, adjusted his bag, and, no, he didn’t disappear or fade away. He walked beyond the window and out of sight. No doubt to his SUV.
Whoever the hell he was.
The End
Vampire vs. Bigfoot
I’ve lived in many places and in many times.
For now, Seattle suits me. If Twilight got anything right, it’s that overcast days play less havoc on vampires. Not much less, granted, but enough.
Unlike Twilight, I don’t live with an adopted family of vampires. I live alone, as I have for many centuries. And as I pulled up to my current home, I actually had to think hard about how many centuries it has been.
Four of them. Four hundred and seventy-two years, to be exact.
Almost five centuries.
A half of a millennium.
Jesus, I’m old. And rich. After all, a vampire acquires a lot of money in five hundred years, and my own was spread liberally around banks the world over, not to mention secret stashes of gold and silver in various caves and beaches.
And now here I was, in Seattle, living yet another life, in another place, another time. The world continues on. People come and go. Technologies expand. Waistlines expand, too. But I will always be twenty-five.
Forever young, as they say.
I pull into my garage and shut off the car, which I sit in as the garage door grinds shut behind me. I could do anything, of course. Go anywhere, be anyone. There are people out there—very talented and corrupt people—who can turn you into anyone, in any country.
But, for now, I am staying put, living among the hippies and hipsters and baristas. Why? Why do I deal with the rain and gloom and cold?
The answer might surprise you.
Then again, it might not.
After all, Washington State is known more than just for its legal pot, gay marriages and trendy coffee shops.
It’s known for something monstrous stalking its woods.
Yes, I’m here to hunt the ultimate prize.
I’m here to hunt Bigfoot.
* * *
Don’t laugh.
I’m being serious. I’ve tasted all types of man and woman and child. All ethnicities, all age ranges. I’ve feasted on the very old to the very young. Yes, I’m a monster. I’ve never claimed to be otherwise. I have feasted on puppies and bear cubs, on lions and endangered rhinos. Yes, I am a monster.
And now I will hunt and feast upon the greatest prize of them all.
That is, of course, if he really exists.
* * *
I’ve spent many months planning and plotting.
I’ve even watched some of those ridiculous shows on TV, those shows that are all growl and no results.
Foolish mortals. Yes, I say that in jest, but it’s the truth. Never send a human to do what a vampire can do better. I am, of course, the perfect hunting machine. My ears can pick out the smallest sounds, the slightest rustling—breathing from across great distances. My eyes see deep into the dark. Hell, to my eyes, there is no dark. The night is alive with incandescent light. And I’m fast. So much faster than those bumbling idiots weighed down by camera equipment and backpacks.
I will wear nothing but the clothing on my back.
It will just be me and them.
And I will find them, to.
Oh yes, I will.
The ultimate prize.
* * *
The woods are dark.
But not to my eyes. No, to my eyes, the woods are alive with supernaturally bright filaments of lights. Thousands of them, millions of them. All melding together to illuminate the night. At least, for creatures like me.
Hunters like me.
It is late, perhaps 2:00 in the morning. I have about four hours left before sunrise. And when the sun does rise, I want to be long gone...with a belly full of a rare and very prized blood source.
I’m in a prime spot along the Olympic Peninsula. In fact, not far from the now famous Forks, with its glittering vampires. Lord, we are so much more than fictional heroes...or villains. Writers only partially get our stories right. Mostly they get us wrong. Granted, I’ve made it my life purpose to cover my tracks, to conceal my true nature. But a few of us get sloppy, and a few of us even fall in love with mortals. I don’t fall in love. I take what I want.