| On a Handshake |
[17 Sep 2007|02:55pm] |
Another night, another traffic jam.
The cars in front of the Wynn were stacked bumper to bumper. This time, it wasn’t regular gridlock. A drunk woman had wandered out of the bar and, in some chemically-induced moment of impetuosity, pulled up her blouse to flash the world. It wasn’t an R-rated view. There was a bra. But a horny guy across the street wolf-whistled and made for the approach.
He got picked off by a taxi cab before he reached the other side. So much for dying happy.
Now it was real scene. Hysterical woman in tears. Dead, bloody guy in the road. Ambulance. Cop car. Tourists snapping pictures. Traffic blocked behind it.
Darian was a rubber-necker. Who knew? Maybe she’d need a ticket out of jail before the night was done.
"Damn. He almost made it, too. Gimme my hundred dollars.“ Grace held out her hand, palm upwards, and the other vampire she'd just made the bet with grudgingly handed her the money before taking off. What the hell, right? It was a busy street, so it had been a good enough bet to make. The dude had just moved too slow, that was all.
She watched the cop approach the flasher lady with mild interest. Wondered how SuperBitch was faring in the county lock-up. Had herself a little chuckle before lighting a fresh smoke. Unlife was good.
And getting better, because there was Darian, lurking around the edges of the scene. Grace threw up a hand in a wave, sidled over to the demon's corner of things. "Hi, there, sailor. Smell blood in the water?"
( Like Sharks Circling )
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