Seeing Scarlett - Book cover

Seeing Scarlett

L. E. Bridgstock

Revenge and Romance


Vampires and the Supernatural.

That cannot just be a coincidence…right?

“Reading anything interesting?” I asked as calmly as I could.

“Just something for uni,” he said, slipping the book into his backpack. “No more coffee for me. I’ll be up all night.”

He slung his bag over his shoulder and rose from his seat, holding my gaze with his deep brown eyes.

They were piercing.


His height was no longer something to marvel at. It was something to fear.

And if he tried to throw a punch at me, I would need to account for his wingspan.

“Thank you,” he said, holding out a crumpled fiver.

I pulled my hand back.

Ice-cold skin is a tell-tale sign of a vampire.

“Leave it on the table,” I motioned, refusing to break eye contact.

“Suits you.” He placed it down next to the empty mug.

Then he took a step towards me.

I clenched my fists, ready to thwart any possible attack.

But to my surprise, his feet kept moving until I was staring at his back.

Thank God.

Relief washed over me.

He pushed through the glass door of the diner. I exhaled sharply as he mounted a motorcycle and disappeared from view.

There was a time when I was younger when I would have killed him on the spot purely for owning a book about my kind.

Back then the world was smaller and people were a lot more superstitious.

The supernatural used to be feared, not romanticized and glamorized like they are in books and films nowadays.

So, Nick was lucky.

He got away with his life this time.

But if he comes around here again…there is no telling what I’ll do.


I’m gonna kill him.

Like I should have done yesterday.

Vampires are soulless creatures who deserve to die, and I am highly trained to do just that.

I’m not going to be fooled by that bloodsucker again.

Speeding away from the diner on my motorcycle, I ignored every stop light that tried to slow me down.

In ten minutes flat, I skidded to a stop outside the house I had visited the night before.

I headed for the front door.

I wasn’t going to do him the honour of knocking again.

No way.

I pulled the wooden stake out of its home in my pocket and rammed it through the window.

I shoved my hand through the crack, cutting my skin on the jagged glass.

The adrenaline mixed with caffeine managed to distract me from the pain…at least for the moment.

I reached around, unclicked the lock on the door from the inside and turned the handle. I slipped the stake back into my jeans as the door opened.

And there he was, waiting for me on the other side, his pale skin practically lighting up the dark room.

Clutched in his spindly hands was a gun.

So…he was expecting me.

“Oscar,” I growled.

“Hello, Nick,” he said. “Nice of you to pay me another visit.”

I tried to keep my eyes on his face instead of staring down the barrel.

“Where is Darren?”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t know where he is, Nick.”

“Well, everyone that I’ve scooped up from the back alley of that disgusting club says they saw you with him. So tell me where my brother is, you bloodsucker!”

“‘Bloodsucker…’ Is that the best you’ve got?” Oscar snarled.

And then I saw it.

His finger tightening around the trigger.

Before he had a chance to pull it, I dove out of the way.

He tried to track me with the barrel, and fired off a shot, but I dodged it. I hopped back onto my feet and charged towards him.

He swung his arm and the gun collided with my jawbone.

But I recovered quickly, grabbing at his wrist and twisting it between my hands, trying to wrestle the gun out of his grasp.

With his other hand, he clawed at my face, baring his fangs to try to distract me.

Driving my elbow into his stomach, I managed to weaken him just enough to get ahold of the weapon.

I got Oscar in a chokehold.

“This is your last chance,” I said, having regained the upper hand.

“I already told you everything I know.” He gasped for air. “Go to the Coffee Stop.”

“I went there,” I said. “I sat there for hours and hours and none of your men came to meet me.”

“It’s not my men”—he coughed—“that you should be looking for.”

I thumbed back the hammer on the gun.

“Then who?” I spat, but he still didn’t answer, so I pulled the trigger, sending a bullet through his shoulder.

I knew it wouldn’t kill him. No bullet would. But it would hurt like hell.

Sure enough, he wailed out in pain.

“WHO?” I yelled, drowning out his cries.

I loosened my hold on his neck so that he could speak.

“The red one,” he said, finally. “I don’t know her chosen name. But she is who you’re looking for.”

“You mean…the waitress?” I asked, pressing the barrel of the gun deeper into his skull.

He nodded.

“Why? Why would she know anything about Darren?”

“Because, she’s one of our kind, though she likes to pretend she isn’t,” he said. “She’s a vampire.”

I stared at him as his words took root in my mind.


Could this be true?

There was something about her that had seemed…different. Memorable.

I needed to keep a close eye on the waitress.

But first and foremost, I needed to take care of Oscar.

Without a second thought, I dropped his body onto the floor, stood over him, pinned him down with my steel-toed boots, and drove my stake through his heart.

And I didn’t feel one ounce of guilt in doing it.


It was late Friday night. The tables were still filled with intoxicated people yelling, laughing, and scarfing down late-night pancakes.

But I didn’t even have to look up from my notepad to notice when he slipped in.

The rush of outside air wafted Nick’s scent towards me…

He is back.

Why the hell is he back?

I froze for an instant before continuing to repeat an order back to a group of customers.

I kept my head down as I walked back towards the counter, but he stepped into my path, stopping me in my tracks.

I looked up at his face.

What the—?

He looked like he’d been beat up. Badly.

A long cut ran down the side of his cheek, obscuring a bruise across his jaw.

“What-what ha—?”

I could not speak.

Partially because I was in shock, and partially because his cut intensified the scent of his blood.

And even though I was still full from my last feeding, his smell was irresistible. More so than most mortals. It did not help that his face and body were also incredibly…appetizing.

I had to stop myself from licking my lips.

“Are you OK?” I finally mustered.

“Yeah I’m fine,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”

“What happened?” I asked, curiosity welling up.

He put on an embarrassed expression. “I picked a fight with some people I shouldn’t have. But you should see the other guy.”

“Of course,” I said sarcastically. “When will that expression die?”

“Hopefully with all the stupid men who pick fights,” he said with a smile. I realised it was the first he’d ever given me.

“What can I get for you?” I asked, resuming my familiar role as server to stop thinking about his smile.

And his blood.

He blinked, caught off guard by my abrupt change of topic.

“Coffee to go, I guess.”

Glad for any excuse to distance myself from his aroma, I ducked behind the counter and poured some coffee into a styrofoam cup.

I placed it down in front of him, but he didn’t pick it up.

Instead, he cleared his throat. “Scarlett.”

“Yes?” I shifted in my shoes, waiting for another one to drop.

“I also came here for a different reason,” he started slowly. “Perhaps this isn’t the best time, what with…all this.”

He gestured at his beat up face, and then at the crowded restaurant.

“But I was actually wondering if you might like to get dinner with me sometime.”

“Oh,” I said, genuinely surprised.

Is he asking me on…a date?

I did not see that coming.

My mind raced for answers, unsure of how to respond.

Maybe he really was just a uni student with a crush on me. Would it be so wrong to spend an evening getting to know him better?

Of course it would be wrong.

And besides, I had lived long enough to know that the truth often lies in darkness. So he was probably setting me up, luring me into some kind of trap of his own design.

If so, why?

Who is he working for?

Who wants me dead?

I needed to find out.

“I’m sorry,” he said, interrupting my spiralling thoughts, “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I’ll go.”

He turned to leave, but I called after him.

“Nick, wait,” I blurted. “I would love to meet you for dinner.”

“Ooooooo,” one of my drunk customers squealed. “Our waitress has got a date!”

I shook my head.

“Now get out of here,” I said to Nick. “You are causing a scene.”

Without another word, he made for the door. And as I watched him go, I wondered if I had made the right decision.

You know what they say…

Keep your friends close.

And go on dates with your enemies?

Next chapter

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