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February 26, 2008



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LJ: Hunter Becomes Hunted

I could see it instantly; he knew that I knew.

"Mr. Drake," the blood bank owner greeted me. "What can I do for you?"

I smiled fiercely. "Give me names."

He shook his head. "Too late. Hundreds of garlic-spiked bags are in circulation. The vampire nation will fall within months."

I took a step toward him, which only made him laugh. "What are you going to do? You won't kill me, and you sure as hell won't bite me. You don't dare."

My smile never even wavered. "Who says I want to do either?" I became a blur of motion.

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From the Comments - By Heather S. Ingemar


The morning I woke with a dagger protruding from my chest, I knew I’d taken the wrong girl to bed. Unfortunately, I’m a sucker for blondes.

Sighing, I tugged at the knife. It scraped bone before sliding free, bloodless. I rubbed the puckered slit as I turned the delicate thing in my hands. Engraved vines curled around the grip.

The phone rang, and it was her.

“Thanks for the knife in my ribs,” I said, caustic.

“That’s what you get for being dead.”

As she said it, I felt my body begin to crumble, all to ash.

Damned enchanted knives.

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