Death of the Guardian by Brien Feathers

Author:Brien Feathers [Brien Feathers]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brien Feathers
Published: 2022-11-08T00:00:00+00:00

Part Three

Chapter fourteen

Leap of Faith

‘Sugar Rock’ the pink neon sign read. Drake loitered at the Cajun-themed bar during the daytime, frequent enough that the blond bartender recognized him, but it was the first time he had come here after sundown. The nights were better served with him sharpening his fangs… on a neck. But tonight, he had to work for his meal.

He’d even gone to the library to log onto a dating website. Adeleke had set up a profile for him and he had typed using his index fingers whilst searching for the letters written on the keyboard. He hated technology and felt old, although he was one of the youngest Elders, the other being Ayka, his little sister.

By clicking on photos of girls who might have low standards, such as not requiring a phone number or for him to be tall, he’d found a college girl who was visiting out of state. Spring break was in town, and he loved the tidal wave.

‘Going with my friends to Sugar Rock in downtown, do you know where that’s at?’ she’d written.

Drake could have told her that the lounge had awful décor and was priced (overpriced) for tourists, but he hadn’t wanted to type so many letters, and had written instead, ‘Yes.’

‘All right, see you there!’

A typical reply he would have given had it been speech required too many words, so he’d settled for ‘Ok.’

He’d looked at her profile picture, her eyes had been baby blue—he’d memorized that, then left the library.

The trouble was, he was at Sugar Rock, and she wasn’t. He groaned at the flakiness of young women, got himself a glass of whiskey and stepped out onto the terrace. There was graffiti of Louis Armstrong on the wall—Drake recognized it because he’d met him in the 1950s—and the terrace furniture was the color of swirly lollipops, the giant ones. With an elbow on the wooden handle of the wrought iron railing, he’d been looking at the college kids down below, when he heard, “Well, hello,” from a woman and turned.

With short blonde hair with bangs and wearing an off the shoulder black dress, a woman in her forties held a martini in her hand—she smiled. Drake returned the pleasantry without flashing his fangs. Some type of socialite, Drake knew offhand, and in this type of setting—she’d just broken up with someone and was looking for a light fling. Revenge sex was the best kind.

“I’m Drake.” He kissed the hand she held out. Her skin was warm, and her blood smelled nice. She was healthy despite her collarbone protruding as if she was malnourished.

He tried to endure her, despite her mixing up his name and calling him ‘Donny’. He let it go because that sounded like a pornographic film actor’s name. Perhaps she thought he had a big cock, and the blonde wasn’t wrong about that… at least proportional to his height anyway. Being short helped because it made his dick look bigger; trimming the ginger bush also helped with the illusion of length.

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