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His lips tasted of cinnamon and blood, salty and metallic. The pressure of his body against mine had it screaming. The leather seat slid against my bare back, supple and cool. His hands were anything but gentle as they gripped my chestnut curls. My teeth sunk into his neck, his body went frigid with anticipation. Fingernails trailed down my tender skin and I let out a low moan.
“Shit,” I cursed, it was nearly five am, though the sky was still pitch black.
“What is it?” He murmured, leaving a trail of kisses along my ear and neck. I shivered, though the heater was blasting.
“Out,” I demanded, pushing him off and opening the car door. He hesitated. I was about to lose my patience
“This isn’t a fucking invitation, out.”
The surround sound made the bass vibrate my seat and shut out all thought. The moon roof  was down, allowing the wind to entangle within my long hair. The music was so loud I almost missed the familiar ringing.
“Dex, two of them are tailing you,” The voice was raspy, too many cancer sticks.
“Thanks J,” I put the pedal to the metal and the Camaro z28 roared into action. I was almost 25 miles from base so I decided to take them on my own. Zooming down the crowded street, I swerved into a secluded area. No point in drawing attention to myself. I unbuckled, took a deep breath, and prepared to face the inevitable.
I was grateful for the knee length leather boots, as opposed to the heels id been wearing earlier. Though the cocktail dress seemed far less practical, I had to  make due.
The creature was near, I could just smell it, like burnt pinewood, Though another distinguished smell, chocolate? Were the Mazu in the smore making bussiness? The thought made me smile. The glint of silver caught my gaze. This one smelt of heat and anger. It's slick body wound its way around the trash invested street. The Smore Maker was perched on the left building. The smell was enough to fog my vision.
Cold air stabbed at my lungs, a consequence of forgetting warmer wear. A creeping sensation, when predator stalks pray, gave me the overwhelming desire to run. I remained steady, wouldn’t want to scare the little buggers. The heat intensified, making my nose itch. My back was turned to the silver one, and I could sense its anticipation. I whirled, my hand firmly gripping the Mazu's jawline in mid-pounce. My hand sizzled, the flesh peeling away like a banana skin bursting from overripe fruit. I grimaced, but it was a necessary pain. I wasn't sure what the the Silver Heater was. Fighting was one thing, actually identifying them was another. I looked into its pitch black eyes, the very abyss of immortality and hatred. Hatred that was directed at me. I narrowed my own, though I knew I couldn’t possibly look as menacing. One of the defects to being a five foot three girl in a summer dress. Before I could decide on which species it was, Smore Maker decided to help out his pal and ambush me from above. I cursed my own stupidity and rolled it off my back, but not without acquiring several deep gouges. Now this creature I knew. Hirus had freakishly long claws and coned shaped heads. This one had wooden colored skin and lanky limbs, and its claws looked plenty sharp. Silver Heater was four-legged, but those disturbing eyes seemed to have multiplied. Two against one, no backup, and to top it off I was half human. I smirked; I liked these odds.


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United States
Personal Quote: "We are given today but never promised tomorrow."

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