Vampires Don't Cry: The Collection

by Ian Hall

  Over my shoulder Little Luck appeared. He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out hard. The powder lifted from my mother’s hand, assaulting her eyes and nose. It tossed her backward, sending her into a fit of seizures.

  When it was over, my mother lay prone, vacant.

  Little Luck came up beside me, pity on his innocent face.

  He granted me my unspoken request. “You can stop crying now.”

  The deluge of tears thinned until they ceased completely. He touched my side as I clutched it, breathing in shallow gasps. “And you’re all better now. You’re not hurt anymore.”

  At his words my ribs stitched back together. The pain in my mouth faded. My feet repaired themselves; the mending tissue forced out the bits of glass. I became whole again.

  Then he looked at my mother and spoke his next command without sympathy. “Tell her what to do, CiCi.”

  Trying my lungs, I found sufficient air to speak. “You will listen to me and Little Luck—and only us. Get up,” I said to her and she did. “Walk to the window. Crawl out onto the ledge.”

  Little Luck followed me to the other side of the room. I leaned out onto the ledge where my mother stood, trying to mold herself into the side of the building. She looked the frightened child now, the vulnerable one.

  “Tell her what you want,” said Little Luck.

  “You will never hurt anybody ever again,” I told her. “Tell me that you understand.”

  Her words were frail. “I understand.”

  I looked to Little Luck, my eyes asking him what to do next. He shrugged and gave one final instruction. “You don’t have to listen to nobody no more. Do what you want.”

  The boy released me from his bidding and now the fate of the woman on the ledge was my decision alone. Whatever love I’d ever had for my mother made its last, meek plea to spare her now. To show the mercy that I had been denied.

  I gave her one final glance, searching her face for any trace of remorse. What I found instead was terror. Good enough.

  “Come back inside,” I granted.

  My mother’s fear melted from her visage, replaced immediately with smug petulance. Even as she side-stepped her way to safety, her eyes mocked me in my act of pity. My kindness made me as weak as my tears.

  “To hell with you then,” I stopped her…

  “Jump.”

  (A note from the authors)

  Hi there guys, Ian Hall here, co-author of the stuff you’ve just been reading.

  (Lyman)

  April and I appreciate the fact that you buy and read our vampire books, and love the idea that you enjoy the in-depth character histories we’re developing.

  If you enjoy the series, please give us reviews wherever you buy your eBooks. It only takes a minute, but gets your views out to thousands of prospective readers.

  Yours

  Ian Hall