A Mixed Bag of Blood Read Online Free PDF Page A

seven-years-old, maybe eight, and a blonde-haired woman who looked like the girl. They were all smiling.
    The girl showed Remington to a seat on the couch along the right wall. Hot pain enveloped him. He began feeling very weak, as if the unlife were being sucked out of him. His stomach churned and he was overcome with nausea. He glanced to his right. Then to his left. Finally, he looked behind him on the wall. There, above him, was a cross. It must have been blessed, for normal, store-bought crosses had no power over a vampire.
    “I . . . could I use your restroom?” Remington said, trying to not sound ill.
    “You sick?” the man asked, his right eyebrow raised. He trained the shotgun at Remington. “Were you bitten too? Infected?”
    The girl came over, her lips forming into a frown, and swatted the gun away.
    “Daddy,” she said, harshly. “Stop it.”
    He looked at her as if she were crazy, then said, “He could be sick, turning into a living corpse.”
    “Mister—” the girl began.
    “My name’s . . .” Remington was struggling, the cross’s power draining him. “My name’s, Remington. Remy for short . . . if it pleases . . . you.” He was hunched over now, his stomach cramping up, insides feeling as if they were on fire.
    “Let’s go,” the man said. “Do your puking in the bowl. Then I want to see your naked ass. Make sure you ain’t infected.”
    “Pleased to meet you, Remy,” the girl said, seeming as happy as could be. “My name’s Tilda, and this here mean man is my daddy. “You can call him, Bill.”
    Remington managed to stand erect. He told the girl it was nice to meet her, then hurried from the room.
    Standing in the hallway, his strength returned and his nausea vanished, but he kept up the charade of feeling ill.
    The bathroom was down the hall. Bill followed him to it. Remington closed the door, expecting to be left alone, but Bill had remained right outside. He made fake vomiting sounds and then flushed the commode.
    He couldn’t risk going back into the living room and worried that there were more crosses throughout the house. He still didn’t know if there were others around, though he didn’t think so.
    Thinking of the color photo at the end of the row of pictures, he wondered where the woman and boy were. Dead? Missing? Or somewhere in the house? Maybe she had left Bill and her daughter and had taken the boy with her.
    Remington didn’t like this. He was weak from lack of human blood. His mind wasn’t sharp. He was thinking too much. He just needed to act, to attack and kill. Once he had human blood in him, he’d feel better.
    “Daddy,” Tilda yelled from somewhere down the hallway. “Come here. I have to show you something.”
    “I’m busy, Til.”
    “Now, Daddy.”
    Remington grinned. The little bitch was running the show. Daddy’s little girl, or little girl’s Daddy?
    “Mister?” Bill said.
    “Yes?”
    “Be right back.”
    Remington listened to the man’s heavy footfalls grow fainter as he walked away.
    He cracked the door open, closed his eyes and inhaled. His extraordinary sense of smell picked up the two familiar odors of Bill and Tilda. No other human scents were detected, but something rotten was in the air. Possibly meat, but he wasn’t sure. The lack of proper nutrition was truly beginning to aggravate him.
    Remington would rather have made sure there were no surprises waiting for him—other people, blessed crosses—but the time had come to strike. He would wait until the man returned, then open the door and drink him dry. He’d then call the daughter over, needing her out of the living room and away from the cross.
    A few minutes later, the man’s thunderous footsteps announced his return.
    “Mister,” he said. “You done?”
    Remington hadn’t even begun yet. “Yes. I’m done, Bill. Be right out.” A tingle of excitement ran along his pallid flesh. Fangs protruded from his gums as his ravenousness grew to an almost uncontrollable