Good morning and Happy Hump Day ! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.
Char is trying to figure out what Tyrone is doing when Casey brings him some good news, the name of someone who might have information for him! Of course, Char just lost use of the ride he stole, but that can be overcome, right? See what's going on in this week's chapter of An Unholy Alliance. Don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what's up with them. Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!
Tyrone who?
The next moment, my irritation was a thing of the
past. I restrained the impatience that demanded I snatch the paper from Casey’s
outstretched hand. They weren’t about to tease me on a matter of such vital
importance to me, this much I knew.
“Now, I don’t really know how much information this
woman has,” Casey warned me, but I was honestly not foolish enough to hang all
my hopes on one particular star, so that didn’t faze me. “I met her on a
genealogy forum, and we’ve been talking a little. She’s interested in local
history too. Her family has lived in the same place since well before it was
Greene County. While they didn’t own slaves themselves, they had neighbors that
did, back in the day. Her name is Isabella Buford, and she lives out near Cabool.
I’m afraid it’s kind of in the middle of nowhere, but she says you’re welcome
to pay her a visit any time. She works from home and doesn’t leave the house
very often.”
That’s all I needed to hear. No time like the
present. I glanced at the scrap of paper and memorized the address before I
tucked it into my pants pocket, then secured my phone. I had gleaned all the
information from these two books that I could, so I handed them back to Casey,
along with my thanks. She clutched them to her securely. I could tell she
seemed as excited about my prospects as I was.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for.” Her voice
rang with sincerity. I’d never known a nicer person, outside of Mama Lil. “I’m
still looking for more documents, of course. And I hope to hear more from other
genealogists, but this sounds like a good lead, doesn’t it?”
“It does indeed,” I concurred. “I’m greatly indebted
to you, Casey. Your help has been invaluable. I’m sure I’ll be back before too
long. I’ll let you know what I found out, one way or another.” I made a mental
note to bring her a gift when I returned. I knew she didn’t expect it, but I
was raised to have manners, even if I didn’t always choose to exercise them.
And if she wouldn’t take anything for herself—which was always a possibility—she
couldn’t object if I contributed to the makeshift food pantry she operated for
the benefit of the community inside the library. Regardless, I was determined
to do something to show my appreciation.
I murmured my good-bye and headed immediately to the
parking lot. Only then did I remember I’d just lost my current mode of
transportation, as the LeBaron was now off limits, no doubt waiting to be towed
away at the behest of the police officer. The man was nowhere in sight, undoubtedly
in hot pursuit of his imaginary young car thieves. Stealing the vehicle again
would just be asking for trouble.
“I have a car.”
How did he continue to catch me unawares? That was
something few people ever achieved, which only added to my growing irritation
with him. And why had he followed me out? I’d certainly not invited him to do
so. Not bothering to respond, I glanced about the lot, but I didn’t see the
vehicle Tyrone had stolen the night before, the one which he’d acquired from my
last meal.
“I ditched that and got another one,” he said,
although I hadn’t asked.
“In case you’re wondering why I never get caught, I
switch the plates with a different vehicle. Most people don’t bother to look at
their own license plates. And I make sure the new ones are from a different
make and model, so the police don’t think to run them. Not as long as I obey
all traffic laws, anyway.” He gave me a most cheerful grin. “I also make sure
not to take vanity plates. They stand out too much. Those are a great deal more noticeable.”
Again, he earned my somewhat grudging admiration.
I’d have to remember that technique in the future.
“I can give you a lift wherever you’re going,” he
offered, pointing to a nondescript sedan that sat just a few feet from where we
stood. “I’m headed that way anyway. Toward Cabool, that is. I would enjoy your
company.”
Why was this human so desirous of my companionship?
Didn’t he realize that my very proximity had the potential to be fatal to him?
That if I chose, I could make him into a midnight snack… or more? Or did he
imagine I only drank the blood of people I’d never conversed with? I could
certainly disillusion him on that point, as I was no stranger to the art of
verbal seduction by any means. I knew how to draw my prey in with pretty words
and gestures. Few could resist me when I was at my most charming. When I didn’t
lose control—which was most of the time… or close to it—I left my victims with
a lingering headache and only vague memories of what transpired between us.
They would never remember me, of course. I would be but a hazy image in the
back of their mind they could never clearly see. A sweet dream of love’s
promise that was never to be, and certainly never consummated. That was never going to happen.
Blood drinking? Ah, that was another story.
“No thank you,” I managed to get out between
clenched teeth.
I hesitated for just a moment, and apparently that
was all he needed to make his move, taking me by complete surprise.
How, you ask, did he do that? He hugged me. Straight
out hugged me.
Before he could utter a single other word, I
disentangled myself from his embrace and took my hasty departure.
This Tyrone could be the death of me yet.
to be continued
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