Blood Pact

Chapter 1

(in the beginning)

"It's easy to pick you out in a crowd," he said as he came up behind her.

Kara swiveled around in her seat and smiled up at Torres. "Is it? Why is that?" Outside, semi trucks passed by the window as sillouettes against the sunset, heading for the interstate a mile up the road.

"Your hair, mostly." He smiled back. She was the same as he remembered, reckless and rebellious. Her hair, natural or not, was the same copper shade as a brand new penny.

"You should see the real color," Kara teased.

"What color is it?" Torres figured he'd take the bait and ask.

Kara shrugged. "Brown."

"Is he bothering you?" one of the bartenders asked, keeping an eye on the big Mexican standing next to her.

"He's my date," Kara told him matter-of-factly.

"If you say so," the bartender said and went back to cleaning.

"Sit down and let's order," Kara invited. She really would have like to tell the bartender to mind his own business, but he was, sort of. "I've been stuck in that car for two days eating fast food. My digestive system hates me."

"So we're eating at a truck stop?" Torres wasn't quite six foot tall. He was all muscule, rough features, piercing dark eyes, indeterminate age, and most people had the common sense not to bother him. The tattoos up and down his arms made people stare, but only for a few moments until he stared back.

Kara pointed at the sign on the wall. "Best homecooked food in Fort Stockton," she quoted.

Torres looked skeptical. "You're still working for the Aiton?" He pushed his duffel bag under the table and sat across from her.

"I work with him, not for him." There was a subtle difference. She liked that fine line. As a private, bonded courier, she got first choice of prime jobs for a number of corporations. It paid very well, indeed, but as often as not, the jobs were of a questionable nature. Questionable being illegal.

"What happened to that Archer guy?" Her last bodyguard, Torres knew she had been looking to replace him for months.

"He jumped in the middle of a fight he should have kept out of." Kara ordered the soup and salad, plus coffee. "Just bring a carafe," she told the waitress.

Torres ordered a t-bone, medium rare and smothered in onions. Beer. "How do I know which fights to jump in, and which ones to stay out of?"

"If I'm in the fight, you're in the fight. These days, my jobs are a lot more high-classed then they used to be. Better pay, richer clients. Your're job is to watch my back. We end up in some shady places on occasion."

"Like the bar in Durango?"

Kara grinned. "Like that. Do you have a passport?"

He shook his head.

"You can get one."

"I have trouble keeping my green card," he pointed out. Trouble with the law, most of his life.

"I'll get that taken care of." The waitress brought their meals and Kara waited for her to leave. "You remember the offer."

"It's tempting," he agreed. Her offer was more money than he had ever imagined making. "I still have family to take care of.

"I understand. If you go out of the country with me, you get a bonus." Kara wasn't above blatant bribery.

"Does Mexico count?" He was teasing her.

"You better believe it does. It would be a bad thing for me to end up in jail, in Mexico." She was making reference to Durango, and shook her head. The job had been a mess, and if it hadn't been for Torres, she could have been in a lot of trouble.

"I don't like wearing a suit," he pointed out his biggest problem with the offer.

"Not really a problem most of the time. When I am working, you would mostly just be waiting around for me. You'd be my driver as much as a bodyguard. I'm out at night sometimes and I don't like to be alone. Like that bar in Durango."

"I've been to worse." He wasn't kidding.

"Exactly. That's why I want you." Kara poured a fresh cup of coffee and inhaled the scent.

Torres mulled it over while he devoured the steak. The sign was right, the food was good. Maybe not the best, but it had to be close.

"Take the job for sixty days," Kara offered finally. "If you don't want to stay on, no worries."

He'd make more money in those two months than the rest of the year. It would be like one of the other jobs he had worked with her, just an extended version. He had his own reasons, too. Kara was naieve about the ways of the world, even if she didn't know it or think it. Even now, she had no clue what sort of trouble she had been in when he met her. "Two months, and we'll talk about longer," he agreed.

"Can you start tomorrow?" Kara had job offers on the table, she needed to decide on which to take and what to pass on.

Torres pulled the bag out and set it on a chair. "I can start tonight."

"Cool," she said, finishing her coffee. "I can use the company. It gets pretty boring on the road."

~~~~~

(ten months later)

He spun the chair around so Kara could see him. It wasn't who she was expecting and she stopped abruptly. The effect was what he wanted - the sudden rush of fear that coursed through the girl. Fear would make her blood taste better. He smiled, curling his lips back to show her his fangs.

Kara blinked. "Where is Jase?" she asked, quickly glancing around the room. She wasn't comprehending what she was seeing.

"He won't be joining us tonight. Or any other night, for that matter."

Kara turned to run, but two men had emerged from the hallway, blocking the door. The closest grabbed a handful of hair and pulled her back to the desk. She decided it was time to scream. The first backhanded her, cutting off the scream and knocking her to the floor.

"Are you ready to walk on the dark side, Kara? he hissed, dragging her to her feet by the front of her shirt, ripping it in the process. His eyes had dialated, and they reflected light like a cat. And there were fangs . . .

"What are you?" she managed. A moment later, the door shattered inwards from the blast of a ten gauge shotgun. Kara let her knees buckle and dropped, breaking his grip on her.

Torres swung the shotgun around and fired. The blast threw him clear against the back wall. The other two men had disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.

"Shit!" Kara scrambled away as her attacker ignored being shot and turned towards her. "Shoot him again." Torres fired before she could finish saying it and the figure fell behind the desk. "Did you kill him?" she asked.

"I doubt it," Torres said. "We need to leave, right now." He was mostly worried about where the other two had gone, and where the people Kara was supposed to meet were.

As they made a hasty exit into the hall, the door to the stairs at the end of the hall clicked shut. They looked at each other, then the opposite direction, towards the elevator. "No way," Kara decided the elevator was a deathtrap and that the stairwell was just as bad.

"We're only on the second floor," Torres said, peering out the window. He shoved it open and pushed the screen out. It fell silently onto the wet grass below.

Kara wasn't rushing to jump out a window. "What just happened?"

"The guy that I shot was a vampire," Torres stated simply, like it was something he said every day.

Kara looked at him like he'd gone mad. Or like she had. "A what?"

"I'll let you down as far as I can," Torres said. "Don't scream when I let go or they will know where we are. Remember to roll when you hit the ground."

It wasn't a multiple choice situation. Kara grabbed his arm and crawled throught the window, teetering a moment before he leaned out, extending his arm as far as he could. She was still fifteen feet above the lawn. He let her go.

Kara's legs buckled as she crashed into the ground and rolled. The next thing she knew, Torres was there. "No sleeping on the job," he said. She staggered to her feet, trying to rebutton what was left of her shirt.

"Here," he draped his leather jacket over her, getting her by the elbow and getting her moving. "You'll attract a lot of attention walking around like that. We don't want attention just now."

Sizes too big, she put it on and zipped it up. "How did you keep the shotgun when you jumped out the window?"

"Built tough," he told her, holding it against his leg so it was less conspicuous. "I threw it out the window after you."

Kara shook her head, wondering if that made her tough. "I need to call in and find out what in the hell just happened." She was a little shaky, but that was mostly from jumping out a window. She had gotten beat up before, it probably wouldn't be the last time. But the other stuff . . . the fangs, and the guy getting up after he took a shotgun blast at close range . . . Kara was more than a little confused.

"That wasn't your contact?" They walked briskly across the street towards the parking lot.

"No, I don't know who that was and I don't care to find out what he was. I'm just the messanger."

Torres stopped and Kara kept close as they checked the parking lot for a welcoming committee. It looked vacant. "They kill the messangers, you know." He was angry that he hadn't acted faster. "He was a vampire, Kara. Not exactly like in the movies, but close enough."

"A vampire? You're kidding?" She knew he wasn't kidding, but the alternative was too bizarre.

"Do I sound like I'm kidding?" Torres said, taking her by the arm and heading across the street.

She couldn't think of anything to say. He guided he around to the passenger side, let her get in and shut the door, keeping an eye out for anything moving in the night.

By daybreak, she still hadn't said anything and Torres decided it was time to take charge. It was time for her to learn a few things that might keep her alive, now that she had been face to face with a vampire. He headed for the border.

~~~~~~