Chloe has her way of stalking stories and vigilante vampires.
by vagrantdream at her/my livejournal
1031 words, pg-13, alternate universe
He was going to eat the man for the price of her press pass. It would have been satisfying if she wasn’t perfectly aware that she was a happy meal too.
Chloe watched the vampire stalk behind the purse-snatcher. Davis Bloome, paramedic by day, fiend by night. Always took the night shifts, had an unearthly physique, distaste for coffee, duct tape over the binds of his windows, quick reactions and an uncanny amount of awards for saving lives. Not to mention, his eyes ate her when she helped him with that oxygen tank.
He wasn’t turned so she could see his eyes, but dressed in the kind of flimsy thin shirt you imagined went out with Marlon Brando. Chloe watched the impermeable shift of muscles under the thin cloth, immobile. If the utter silence thing didn’t work out he could win on awe.
The man he was stalking didn’t hear him, but he started to run. He probably felt the chill. The vampire threw his head forward, a lion chasing a gazelle; he was going to eat the man for the price of her press pass. It would have been satisfying if she wasn’t perfectly aware that she was a happy meal too.
The victim slammed and crashed against the garbage can. Chloe tried not to jump at the click and muffled noise against the wall. She could nearly hear the gurgle of his blood, but that wasn’t her problem; he wasn’t the nicest guy. The garlic itched in her bra; it would be enough to weaken Davis until she could talk some sense into him. He was taking crime off the streets, but drinking the criminal wouldn’t make a positive change long term, unless it happened to be Lionel.
He was coming to her; she could hear him breathing in the air, see her purse in his long fingers. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, looked through slitted eyes. He could smell her. That was the point of jumping in front of that car, impregnating her scent with the formaldehyde and dead flesh from the morgue and then falling on the sidewalk with her purse in plain sight in the Suicide Slums. He stood above her, crouching before she realized he’d moved. He was looking at her press pass. He reached out with a cool hand, lifted her off of the road and onto the sidewalk and he didn’t seize up, already. Her lungs hurt.
Chloe noticed that of all things that he was particularly attractive, probably not all shriveled like a prune because he drank so many thieves. He had a dimple in his chin, a slim red line of blood dripping down the neck of his shirt...right against her skin as he drew close and curious. His lips were very red and probably cool if she tried to touch them... Chloe snuck in the lightest inhale, soundless.
Dizzy, she felt his nose, cool and light, tracing down the side of her neck and into her collarbone. He was taking her scent and Chloe bit the shudder down; dead women didn’t do that.
“You don’t smell dead.” He said quietly. He didn’t prod her, but Chloe felt her eyes flutter open slowly.
“I have low blood sugar…”
Davis cocked his head. A feral, sniffing vampire knew she was alive, and trying to fool him. Clearly there were only two options, her hero speech required she not be at the disadvantage. Chloe promptly latched onto his mouth, tasting the bloody tang of about five unsavory characters. His mouth stiffened, shock but grazed her back.
Davis pulled her legs out of his lap for balance, eyes narrowing like bright light was shining into his eyes. He had cool, soft lips though and she didn’t feel anything very sharp when her tongue was in his mouth. A cold finger skimmed down her face, and his lips parted.
His fingers skimmed along her cold, goose-bumped knees. Maybe the bloodlust that meant that vampires did it in a pile of dead bodies. This was bad; this was not things were done…His hands closed under her knees, and Chloe started to think she was rather open-minded. Davis had slipped his hands under her and started to carry her. Maybe she should have kneed him in the nose instead of kissing. He was going to haul her back into his coffin or closet or freezer and make her into a shrieking vampire wife.
Chloe jostled her leg free in a mad panic, getting her hands tangled in his shirt. She had a tazer strapped to her thigh, just about where his hands were. “Where are you taking me?”
“Back to your apartment. It’s not safe here.”
“Hey-look-My apartm-You’re stalking me!”
“You left your cell phone at my apartment. I made a call; Lois guessed my name. Chloe-you could have said so. What do you think about stalking?”
It was better she didn’t answer that. Davis watched her and swung his other hand down for her downed purse, holding to her with one arm. Chloe dug her fingers into his back like small claws, just in case he wasn’t used to this sort of this thing.
His nose pressed against her neck. Davis inhaled deeply. He was a vampire and he was going to drink her all up. She couldn’t find them but he had sharp teeth. Chloe remembered to think of mud and gray corpses… Davis lying on a slab all white and hard…
“So you weren’t going to sneak in and take advantage of me some night?” She wavered.
Davis opened his eyes and blinked at her. They seemed to get softer and deeper the longer they talked.
“Actually, I need you to invite me in, first.”
Oh-okay. He ate people! Chloe clamped her hands down on her mouth and stared. He looked ravenous.
Her fingers just crept, like Renfield and trickled down to his lips. He was pressing against her. Come to think of it, he felt a little bit like marble.
Davis's meal was groaning and lurching around on the floor when he lifted her up, tucking her like a small, groping bundle against him. Chloe was a little bit sorry that Clark would have a hell of a headache tomorrow morning.
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