From The Nights Before Christmas © 2010 by Kerry Allen
Chapter Eight
Bowe pried open her eyes. It took a full minute to recognize the unfamiliar face hovering over hers as Taffy’s, sans the clown makeup and green hair extensions. If she was here, it had to be before dawn or after dusk, or she had to live in the same building.
Navigating around that thought process taxed her brain to such an extent, she couldn’t come up with an insult to spit at the other woman.
“Harvey, she’s awake.”
A few seconds later, his face took over her field of vision, pale, drawn and bearing a smile, albeit a forced one. “Are you comfortable?”
Relatively speaking, which shouldn’t have been the case. “Why can I breathe?”
His smile contracted to an unfriendly line. “Your Council violated the terms of your sentence by killing you sixteen hours earlier than scheduled. The judge made them reverse what they’d done.”
She wondered what caliber gun the judge pointed at their heads to gain their compliance. The Council never backpedaled. That would be like admitting they were wrong.
Just this once, she had to take their side. “If I wasn’t weak from being drained twice, it wouldn’t have killed me.”
“Irrelevant information. Execution was scheduled for 9 p.m. You were dead at 5 a.m. as a direct result of their actions. Cut-and-dried breach of contract. Isn’t bureaucracy grand?” He kissed her lightly on the lips. “I’m in the middle of something. I’ll check on you again in a bit.”
Taffy replaced him bedside and tipped a bottle of cold Pepsi to Bowe’s lips, letting her have just enough to wet her throat. “Your hearing about the stay of execution is at eight.”
An eight o’clock hearing for a nine o’clock execution. “Cutting it kind of close.”
“Harvey went to the mat for the midnight deadline, but no luck. It’ll be midnight wherever the deal was struck, so it stands at nine local. Hence the backup plan.”
Mason’s voice came from the other room. “I don’t know! I’ve never done it, either!”
Bowe grasped at a reason for his high-pitched note of panic. “Are they making gay porn?”
Taffy snorted. “He’s probably done that. No, they’re trying to summon.”
Bowe’s skin attempted to crawl off her body. She hoped vampires had license to summon something other than the one thing she knew about. “Summon what?”
“Keran.”
She opened her mouth to explain why that was a very bad idea, but something inside chose that moment to rupture. Only a geyser of blood emerged, and she died.
Again.
.
From The Nights Before Christmas © 2010 by Kerry Allen
Prefer to read this story in its entirety on your ereader? Buy now for only 99¢
Satisfied reading it here? Consider supporting the author with a donation through the “10 Minutes to Write” button. Every dollar contributed buys 10 minutes of writing time.






