Pretty Bloody - K.A Knight Page 0,2

Raph, wish you were here.

Slamming the boot shut, I face the bright pink shit hole I stayed in last night. It served its purpose. It was near empty, out of the way, and they had a don’t ask, don’t tell policy in place. Fuck, I even found a shovel around back—I don’t want to know what they had it for. Slipping on my shades, even though it’s night, I head to the driver’s side of the sports car. The one useful thing Raph did buy. It’s bright orange with wings down the side, subtle I know, but it’s fast as hell and all mine.

Sliding behind the wheel, I fire up the engine, loving the soothing roar as it purrs. “Time to go dig up a man.” I pat the steering wheel before pulling out of the parking lot behind the hotel. I’m paid up until tomorrow, so at least if the sneaky little bastard tries to fuck me over I can always come back here and leave him locked in my trunk to stew overnight…which actually isn’t a bad idea. I wouldn’t have to talk to him then at least.

I only have a basic location to go on, which was a graveyard, so I googled the closest one earlier and found the location I’m guessing he’s buried in just four miles away. Let’s hope there aren’t ghouls lingering around, they can be super annoying and I really don’t want to touch them and catch a vision of them eating people.

The road is quiet this late at night, only the streetlights for company as I race down the winding country lane. I spot the turn ahead and spin the wheel, skimming around the corner before righting the vehicle and speeding down the private gravel road. Up ahead I spot an old, creepy church and big, steel gates—bingo. I pull up right outside, keeping the engine running as I grab the shovel. The gate has a padlock on it and a six foot wall on either side, obviously running around the extensive graveyard at the side and back of the church. Holding the shovel over my shoulder, I pull back my leg and kick open the gate. The chain and padlock break, the gate swinging inward from my strength as I whistle, heading inside.

I stand just beyond, whistling loudly, just in case any nasties decide to either crawl from a grave or jump out at me. When nothing but the trees move, I shut my mouth and eyes and concentrate on that annoyingly cocky voice I heard this morning, trying to locate him.

Looking for me, love?

Ugh, I’ve never even seen this little prick, but I already want to punch him in his smug mouth, and if he calls me love one more time…

Laughter echoes in my head and I narrow my eyes. “Do you want freedom or not?” I grumble.

Sorry, love, I can’t tell you where I am, I’m afraid, so I guess you will just have to find me. I can, however, tell you when you get close though, right now you aren’t.

Brilliant, hide and go seek in a fucking graveyard. What could be better? Dropping the shovel to the ground, I quickly plait my hair to get the long red strands out of the way.

Are you a natural redhead?

“Keep talking and I’ll leave you to rot,” I snap, making him laugh again.

No offense intended, love, red is my favourite colour after all.

“Can I gag you at all?”

Kinky, are you into that? I’m open to try it for sure, love.

Fucking hell, I’m going to kill this man before the night’s through, I can just tell.

I can think of better things we could do tonight, he almost purrs, obviously trying to sound sexy, but I nearly retch at how thick he’s laying on the charm.

Talking of thick, you should see my—

Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow… I start to sing mentally, ignoring his mocking laughter.

Trekking through the graves, I look for any signs of disturbance or any energy that would mean life, his mocking mirth following me, making me cranky as hell. I hope some worms have been eating him or a dog peed on his grave. None of the fresher graves even give a hint of life, so I head farther back where it seems to get darker, fog curling around my ankles because, of course, what creepy as hell graveyard doesn’t have fog? Whistling as I go, I stop along the third row from the