New England 2012
Elisabeth pressed the key fob to lock her Jaguar with a forced air of determination. The last month had been a whirlwind of impulsive decisions that were exciting, yet out of character. She was sent to New England to hunt down a group of four young rogues who needed to be stopped before their actions set off a witch hunt. The plan was to swoop in, find the morons, then drag them back to Oregon to be dealt with. So much for plans.
Something about this town felt like home. She spent more time exploring the quaint New England suburb than hunting, and one afternoon happened upon an open house for a property that included an art gallery. She stood in the impressive room, envisioning her artwork living there and whispered, "Kismet." A word she had never used, much less believed prior to that moment.
The closing for the house had progressed smoothly, and today she had placed a full page ad in the local newspaper announcing the gallery opening. While contemplating what to cook for dinner, she decided a celebration was in order, so hopped in the car to seek out a local dining spot.
Her cell phone rang as she walked through the parking lot of Poncho's. "Hello… I'm fine… I know; I miss you, too… Mother, please, do you honestly believe you need to worry about such things? Don't you think it would make more sense to worry about the sap who tries to mug or rape me…? I know, and I always will be your little girl, but I need this, and I am more than capable of taking care of myself… Yes, as difficult as it is to leave you, the pressure from the pack has been wearing on me, and I think it's best for me to stay away from Raff… I'm about to have dinner, I'll call you later… Love you, too."
Elisabeth stood staring at her phone. She shook her head in an effort to deny the loneliness that threatened to overwhelm her.
Deep in doubtful reflection, she entered the restaurant. Within ten feet of the doorway, she raised her head and sniffed. Vampire!
The visceral heightening of senses bombarded her. She suppressed the flight instinct, calming herself with the knowledge the cold one could not detect her scent; it would blend with all the humans. Her gifts would ensure safety even if a fight ensued. She scanned the room while walking to the bar, easily spotting the blood-sucker. He was in mid-hunt, eyeing a young, red-headed woman. Elisabeth felt a pang of sympathy for the poor unsuspecting child and considered intervening, but to what end? She would make a scene only to have the parasite find another victim later. Killing him was an option, but, without the benefit of the full moon, that required planning, a stake, and would result in a big mess to clean up. Since she would be living here, she preferred her existence go undetected by the undead, so concluded, the best course, for now, would be to ignore the creature and hope it was a compassionate demon who spared its victims' lives.