Between a Vamp and a Hard Place by Jessica Sims

alleyways and around parked bikes. “Wait,” I called after him. “Let’s take a taxi, all right?” When he ignored me, I tried again. “We’ll get there even faster with a taxi.”
    That made him pause and he nodded, a wild look in his eyes as he scanned the streets. “Get this ‘taxi,’ then, and let us be on our way.”
    I watched Rand warily as I flagged down a taxi, then tried to explain to the driver in my limited Italian that we needed to go where Rand pointed.
    â€œYou race, yes?” the taxi cab driver asked me. “TV race?”
    Were we on a game show? “Sure, whatever,” I said. Whatever got the man moving. I handed him a wad of euros and gestured for Rand to get in next to me. I shut his door and buckled him in, and for the next ten minutes, we pointed at streets and tried to follow Rand’s directions . . .
    Â . . . Which led us to a graveyard. The Protestant Cemetery of Rome.
    â€œNo, no, no,” I whispered under my breath. I did not want to go into a damn graveyard looking for vampires. I gazed at the thick stone wall, the decorative crenellations at least ten feet above my head. There was a massive door, and guards patrolled the way in front.
    â€œIs closed,” our cab driver pointed out. “You wait until morning?”
    I looked over at Rand, but he was already pushing at the door of the cab, trying to figure a way out. I reached over and popped the handle on his door. “We’ll get out here.” I paid the driver a few more euros, thanked him, and hopped out after Rand.
    â€œSo what are we doing?” I asked as he strolled toward the wall. One of the guards was standing a few feet away, but he hadn’t noticed us yet. When he did, I suspected things would get ugly.
    Rand touched the door. “I sense both of them in there.” He pushed on the door, and it made a creaking, groaning noise.
    â€œStop,” I said, swatting his hands. “We can’t go in there right now.” A plaque on the wall said visiting hours were 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. At this rate, we’d never get inside, considering that vampires couldn’t come out in sunlight.
    He ignored me. Instead, he took a few steps back and studied the wall. It was shorter the farther away one got from the door, and he began to pace down the length of it. “We’re getting in.”
    â€œWhat about the guard?”
    As if attuned to my voice, the guard began jogging toward us. “Scuzi,” he called out.
    Faster than I could blink, Rand had the man by his neck. He sank his fangs deep, and as I stared in shock, he began to drink. The guard’s eyes went wide and then he shuddered, his body stiffening in an expression of what could only be pure ecstasy.
    â€œRand!” I hissed. “You can’t do that!” Oh my God. I glanced around the empty street to see if anyone had noticed. We were totally going to jail now. What was I going to do if I ended up in an Italian jail? What would Rand do once daylight hit?
    But the vampire ignored me. He continued to drink from the twitching guard, who wasn’t fighting him in the slightest. A moment later, the guard’s eyes rolled back and he fell limply to the ground.
    Rand released him, setting him down gently. Then he licked red-tinged lips and looked up at me. “Shall we go?”
    I just stared at him. “I cannot believe you did that! Did you just kill that man?”
    He gave a small shake of his head. “Only drank enough to make him lose consciousness. Come. We haven’t much time before he awakens and wonders what happened.” He strode toward the doors again and gave them another shake.
    â€œOh jeez,” I murmured to myself. I stepped over the guard, then, as Rand tugged at the door again, I leaned down and unclipped the key ring from the guard’s belt. “Here, let me do it. If I’m going to be an accomplice, I suppose