Dayle tapped into his moonstone again and jumped back, landing behind the dumpster. The explosion barely touched him, but it did knock off his hat, allowing long brown hair to cascade down. He swore and found that the hat now had a large hole it.
“Damn it! That was my best hat! So I’m dealing with a techno-savvy sex addict, great…”
He put on the holey hat and drank deeply of his flask, draining it of the brandy in two gulps.
“I need more of that shit!”
He went to leave, but police were now swarming to the scene. He had no way to get past them without giving them not a scene, but the whole freaking Broadway production. He sat silently behind the dumpster, knowing that his adversary was far off, probably draining her of the last of her blood.
~~~~~~
Once the police started to thin out thirty minutes later, one very stiff Dayle Storm stood and stretched. He instantly regretted draining all his whisky earlier.
“Bloody vampire.”
He stumbled into the street, looked around and headed back to the liquor store. He would kill before the night was out.

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