Lynn McCainIt had been close to a month since I moved to Salem and two since I buried my razor-sharp fangs in human flesh and drank their blood from the vein. Trust me. That was like an eternity for someone who had spent an entire century killing, maiming and terrorizing humans for fun and sometimes for sport. You know, tell them to run then see how long it can take to rip their spines out in a single shake of a lamb's tail. Anyway, doing the same thing over and over again can only lead to a couple of things. One is you get better at it and the other one, which was my problem, you get bored out of your damn mind. I got bored with the killing, the screams of my victims and the stench of their fear as they tried to hide from me, and decided to take a forever vacation in a small town called Salem. There, I planned to stay low-key, in the shadows and blend in but to satisfy my thirst for blood hospitals and blood banks were on my hit list. That evening I was parked by the memorial hospit

LynnThat morning looked crisp, the skies were deep blue and the sun was rising, its golden rays spreading warmth to the earth for the ungrateful humans who were still asleep. I was seated at my arctic my legs crossed reading my third book since leaving the club angry the previous night. That was the advantage of never catching sleep. You have a lot of free time. Books were my little silent friends, I had libraries of them in my basement. The last time I had friends they all turned against me when a bounty was put on my head. Of course, I killed them all and decided, friends were useless. They were just on the list of future enemies waiting for the right opportunity to stab you in the back. Anyway, I carried my books back to the library and arranged them in the order they initially were then took a glass and opened the door to my underground bunker where I kept my blood bags in a freezer. Two glasses later I emerged and changed into my gym clothes. It was time for the morning run. T