Emma White Vampire Hunter

By Chris Thompson

Emma White has been a vampire
hunter her entire life, with the
occassional forray into hunting
other fiends that stalk the
night.

Josie Garcia was her partner,
but some years ago she was
killed, returning as a spirit on
the anniversary of her death in
an effort to console her friend.

On a cold night in a sea-side
town called Johan's Bay, Emma
discovers there might something
evil lurking beneath the veneer
of sleepy innocence the town
projects: a powerful vampire
that has been killing and
getting away with it for years.

With each step closer to the
source of the evil the danger
mounts, and it isn't long before
Emma needs to summon allies to
help her fight the most
dangerous foe she's ever faced
off against.

Emma White Vampire Hunter is a
thrilling combination of
supernatural urban fantasy
investigation and pulse-pounding
action. Pick up your copy today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Thompson
• Release date: Jul 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393764656

Book preview

Chapter One

Generic country music was playing in the dingy little bar Emma White found herself in. She was nursing her second glass of soda and desperately wishing there was something else in it; as a rule, life was hard, but November was especially so. Emma stared blankly at the television just below ceiling height across the opposite corner, observing there was a live football game being screened, but not really paying attention to it as she took another long sip. Setting the glass, dripping with condensation, down on the coaster, she pushed an errant strand of blonde hair back behind her ear and let out a long sigh. It had been an uneventful journey, and a lonely one. As she reached out and took hold of the glass again, she became aware that a man was approaching the empty stool to her left.

Good evening, ma’am. He greeted.

Is it? Emma returned dully.

Well, mine’s certainly improved. He responded as he took the seat. He was rugged and muscular, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, reminding Emma briefly of cartoon lumberjacks she’d seen in her formative years.

Emma made no response, hoping her lack of attention would signal she wasn’t interested in whatever he had to offer. Unfortunately for her, she had no such luck.

So, where are you from? I’ve not seen you in here before.

Out of town. Emma replied simply.

Anywhere specific?

Nope.

I’m guessing you’re not interested in conversation. He stated.

You called it. Emma answered shortly, taking another long drink and watching as the quarterback hurled the ball towards a teammate - only for it to be intercepted as it began its downward arc.

Well, if you’re not interested in talking my pickup’s outside and my apartment’s not far from here. The lumberjack suggested. Emma stared coldly at him as she wondered just what she’d done to give him the idea it was okay for him to make such an insulting proposition.

I’m not interested. At all! Emma declared icily.

Not interested in me or going back to my apartment? He questioned persistently.

Whichever gets you to leave me alone! Emma snapped, finishing her drink and standing before heading towards the exit. She weaved through the few tables between her and the double doors, opened them both, and reveled in the gust of cool, refreshing air after the stuffy, overheated bar as she stepped outside. Ignoring the flutter of complaints about the draft from behind her, she continued to the parking lot, allowing the doors to swing slowly closed and silence the protesting voices.

It had been raining earlier in the evening, and as it had since frozen, the ground underfoot had become treacherous in places. She trudged along, avoiding the areas of the parking lot that threatened the unwary with a fall where she could, and being careful with her footing when she was forced to cross icy patches. Her leather boots gave her decent enough traction, but she shivered slightly as the wind picked up, causing her jeans to feel cold against her legs. She pulled the neck of her black sweater up over her nose, covering most of her lower face and then hugged her long leather coat tightly around her as she continued onward, moving towards her car. Climbing in, she turned the battery on and started the heat while she reclined in her seat, pulling her sweater back down now she was sheltered from the bitterly cold wind.

Well, Josie, it’s been three years today. Emma declared.

Yes it has. Josie Garcia replied, her voice coming from somewhere around Emma, but not anywhere distinct. Josie couldn’t normally manifest inside vehicles as they contained too much iron, which repelled all spirits, but Emma’s car had a specific spell cast upon it to allow the spirit of her friend to join her inside, while preventing other spirits from crossing the threshold.

I was wondering if you’d come for a visit this year.

Where else would I be?

Enjoying whatever’s on the other side of the Light. Emma said flatly. She glanced to the passenger seat beside her, watching as the apparition of her lifelong friend formed. She was wearing... Emma couldn’t quite see it, but it appeared to be a long white robe. She was barefoot and resting her feet on the dashboard, as she had often done in life on their long road trips. She looked very much like her former self; short, dark hair with big, pretty green eyes. Her smile was still warm and friendly, despite the fact that it now adorned the face of her spirit rather than her physical body.

At least I can’t scuff the dash now. Josie commented.

I never really minded. Emma confessed.

I know.

Silence fell between them. Emma gazed out of the windscreen. She saw the lumberjack emerging from the bar with a small framed, blonde woman who Emma hadn’t noticed while she was in there. Apparently, the lumberjack didn’t have any difficulty finding someone who succumbed to his charms, though she was surprised at the speed with which he had made his conquest. He wasn’t that good looking and, as Emma thought about it—

You think he’s up to something? Josie interrupted, breaking Emma’s train of thought.

I don’t know. Emma replied defeatedly. It’s hard to do the job these days.

Oh, come on, I saw you take down those vampires in Chicago. I also saw you help John kill that weird lizard thing in Los Angeles. You’ve been doing just fine without me.

Emma sighed.

You know what I mean.

Emma, you really need to find another partner. There’re plenty of folk out there who’d enjoy hunting with you. What about Bobby? You did that job in Louisiana together. He seemed nice.

I don’t want another partner.

Well, you’re going to need one eventually. No one stays alive long in our line of work going it alone.

You didn’t survive when you were with me, so it doesn’t seem people live very long whether they’re alone or not. Emma returned, not quite able to look at Josie.

Emma, you need to stop blaming yourself for what happened. It was a dumb accident - an accident that wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been drinking that night.

Yeah, but if I hadn’t gotten loaded too, then I could’ve helped you.

Perhaps, or maybe you’d be dead too. At the end of the day it’s simple: I drank too much and I didn’t notice I was being stalked by a werewolf. It was my idea for us to go drinking that night and, if you remember, you tried to warn me about getting quite so drunk, but I wore you down. In the end, I paid the price. Look on the bright side, at least you were able to take me home so my folks had something to bury.

That’s not really a bright side, Josie.

It is in our line of work. How many victims vanish without a trace? Sure, we usually kill whatever was responsible, but there’s often nothing to be returned and we sure as hell couldn’t tell the families what really happened. They don’t get closure.

Emma rubbed her face with her cold hands, the sudden sensation bringing water to her eyes. At least that’s what she wanted to believe, rather than it being tears for her lost friend forming and threatening to spill down her cheeks. She looked out of the window again and saw the lumberjack opening the passenger door of his truck for his companion, then hurrying around to the driver’s side.

So, how’s this going to work? Every year on the anniversary you’ll swing by and try to talk me out of being sad about your death? Emma questioned.

Until you forgive yourself, find someone to talk to or get a new partner... or some combination of the three.

And the folks upstairs don’t mind?

Nope. The rules are I can’t use the far sight one gets on the other side to help you with something you couldn’t find out yourself. To that end, I’m limited in that I see and hear just as a living person can. I also can’t interfere too much with proceedings, but I can help out a little.

Great.

So, what’s the plan for tonight? I know you don’t drink anymore and, truth be told, I’m not sure there’s a lot to do for fun in... Where are we?

Johan's Bay.

Johan's Bay? That’s quite a name.

According to the local history it was once a trading port of sorts, decently located near the main train lines and roads. Nowadays they do a lot of trade in fish. They claim to have the best seafood in New England, but I’d wager they’ve some competition for that claim.

You always were into finding out the local history.

Someone had to. I swear, the number of places we arrived at with no background information only for you to decide we should just wander around until we fell over whatever we were hunting was incredible.

Well, history isn’t always relevant to the case in hand. Josie told her.

True, but sometimes it is, and it’s always better to be informed rather than needing to find out after it’s already too late. Emma replied. She smiled, realizing they were bickering - as they often had.

Do you remember when we were kids and our parents decided to tell us the kind of work they did? Emma asked.

Of course. It felt like I didn’t sleep for a month. Josie replied.

We did want to take over from them, right? I mean, you don’t think we were pushed into it?

I wouldn’t say we were pushed into it. Yeah, I really did want to do the job. Didn’t you?

Of course; it’s noble and just.

And fun. Josie added cheekily.

Sometimes. Emma responded, glancing at her before returning her gaze to the lumberjack’s truck, which still hadn’t pulled out of its parking spot. I guess what I really mean is, you don’t think we wasted our opportunities? Should we have gone on to college and got a career, you know, all the traditional stuff.

I don’t think traditional was ever on the cards for either of us. To answer your question, no, I don’t think we wasted our opportunities. I mean, think of it this way; a lot of the things we hunted would’ve been killed by a different hunter at some point, right? There's quite a few out there, and the network tends to close in reasonably quickly on threats when they pop up. But how many more people would’ve died? How many of the beasts we took care of would’ve gotten away? We saved lives and I think that’s better than any of the alternatives. Not to say anyone who does those jobs has wasted their chances or anything like that, what I mean is everyone has something they’re good at and it’s what they are supposed to do. Frankly, I don’t think we could’ve been as good at anything else. Josie answered. She shifted, perhaps attempting to get more comfortable but Emma didn’t imagine that was the case. After all, Josie was a ghost and ghosts didn’t have those kinds of feelings - not that Emma was aware of anyway.

Emma watched the truck and observed it was rocking gently, and was briefly disgusted by the connotations of what was causing the movement in a public place. In the back of her mind however, something alerted her that something was amiss, but she dismissed this because of what she had imagined was going on behind the darkened windows of the pickup truck.

Maybe you should just go back to the motel you saw on the way into town and call it a night. Josie suggested. We can talk some more if you like.

I should keep going. I’ve got a job in South Carolina in a few days and I’d like to get there early enough to do some recon. Emma answered.

You’ve got plenty of time. That’s like, what, a fourteen hour drive?

Sixteen and change by my estimation, but you know I like to get to places early.

There’s early and then there’s early, Emma.

So, what do you suggest? Emma asked, turning to look at Josie. We go back, book a motel room and shoot the breeze?

We used to, so why not?

Emma looked away, resting her hands on the steering wheel before drumming her thumbs against it. She began to think there wasn’t any harm in it, while noticing that the truck had stopped rocking, yet still made no move to leave the parking space. Emma wondered if they were done for the night or if there were still more amorous adventures in store for them. A couple of other people exited the bar, stumbling and swaying as they walked down the street rather than driving, much to Emma’s approval. She said nothing, lost in depressed thoughts and unsaid truths about how happy she was that Josie had come to visit her, and how sad that it was only for one night.

I guess I could take one night off.

Great! Josie exclaimed, beaming a warm smile to Emma, who turned just in time to see it. The enthusiasm on her friend’s face was enough to make Emma smile too. She started to turn and reach for the keys in the ignition when her intuition told her to stop because something was definitely wrong. It had been a subtle feeling at first, but it was gnawing at her with increasing severity as she attempted to discern what was causing her to feel on edge.

What is it, Emma?

I don’t know. She declared in response, scanning the surrounding area. There was nothing obviously untoward, and nothing surreptitiously untoward either. All she had was a feeling - a feeling that something terrible had happened nearby.

I’m gonna check this out. Want to tag along for old time’s sake?

Of course. Josie answered with a grin. Emma reached over to her glove box, her arm inadvertently passing through the cold space where Josie had manifested.

Sorry.

Eh, it’s fine.

Emma retrieved her pistol, ejecting the magazine to double check it was loaded with the silver and iron rounds that were capable of stopping most things that might bump into her in the night. Exiting her vehicle, she glanced back at Josie, watching as her apparition passed through the windscreen before starting to follow behind her slowly. Before advancing, Emma quickly checked her surroundings. The bar sat on the side of the street that was a mix of commercial businesses: an auto shop, a signage company and a few other semi-industrial looking facilities. There wasn’t anyone on the street just now, and all was quiet except for the distant sound of the water in the bay and intermittent traffic. The other side of the street was littered with stores interspersed with houses, none of which seemed to have any activity within as the lights were off.

She saw no sign of a hidden threat, so Emma focused ahead on the truck, folding her arm so the gun was behind her back and not obviously visible, while tugging her sweater up again - both for warmth and to aid in concealing her identity in case something went wrong and she needed to flee. Someone else exited the bar, so Emma moved off to the side before retrieving her phone and pretending to be focused on that. She was glad people without sensitivity to the supernatural, or those with little training, couldn’t see spirits unless the latter chose to be visible. Not that this was healthy, as most people without sensitivity who witnessed supernatural entities often suffered varying degrees of mental damage. The most intense encounters would leave the average person a mentally broken wreck, while a passing encounter would be damaging, but with luck they might forget what they saw; as the mind, in an attempt to heal itself, would suppress what the person had witnessed and replace it with a more plausible explanation. A person who had briefly witnessed the true form of a werewolf, for example, would remember an animalistic looking psychopath they couldn’t quite describe other than he or she was big and mean looking. Luckily, most supernatural entities had a human form they could hide behind; vampires for instance, retained their former appearance so looked human until they chose to attack, while some creatures could take on the form of the last person they’d killed. Gruesome, but it allowed them to blend in.

You think about the strangest things. Josie told her. They watched the man who had left the bar go over to his sedan and pull out of the parking lot; heading out into the night. Emma put her phone away and looked around again to ensure she was not under observation.

Time to move. Josie stated.

Emma retrieved her gun started once more towards the truck. As she approached the driver’s side window, her sensitivity warned her she was at the epicenter of the phenomenon. The windows weren’t actually darkly tinted; rather, the driver had put up some screens on the inside of the windows to prevent people from seeing inside. There were no sounds of movement from within, and no conversation; neither from a serious exchange of views or a low spoken amorous exchange which might come before or after lovemaking. Lifting her free hand Emma tapped on the window, hoping it would roll down to reveal the face of the lumberjack and his partner for the night. Perhaps they would be angry at being disturbed or simply wonder why a strange woman was interfering with their alone time.

Yo! Emma called out, knocking on the window harder.

Maybe you didn’t see them leave while you were talking to me? Josie suggested.

Did you see them leave? Emma returned.

I wasn’t paying attention to be honest, but I don’t think so. What do you think is wrong?

Emma chose not to answer, and instead hammered on the window.

Yo, lumberjack! Emma called out.

Thinking about it, I’m pretty sure he didn’t leave the truck. Josie stated after a moment.

Yeah, I figured. Emma confirmed as she moved her hand to the handle and pulled on it. The door clicked and started to open. Emma cocked her head, moving it so she could look through the crack in the door.

I think there’s a leak underneath your car, which could be— Emma trailed off, having realized her excuse for approaching wouldn’t be needed.

He’s dead. Josie declared.

I noticed. Emma returned. Blood saturated the interior of the vehicle and the corpse of the lumberjack, who still sat behind the steering wheel, had his shirt ripped wide. His throat had been torn open, causing great, arterial bursts to spurt over the dashboard.

There’s not enough blood, did you notice that?

Emma opened the door wider. Peering through, she saw that the passenger door was wide open. The companion she’d briefly witnessed was nowhere to be found, leading Emma to wonder whether she was another victim or the perpetrator. Emma quickly surveyed the crime scene. Josie had been correct in her assertion that there wasn’t enough blood for the kind of injuries on the body. Not only was his throat torn open, there were deep gouges on his chest, caused by talons or something similar. Emma quickly reached into her pocket and retrieved a latex glove. She stuck her gun down the back of her pants and then slipped the glove on, tugging her sleeve up a little to not get blood on her coat or sweater. Closing the door briefly, she used the sleeve of her other arm to rub off the areas she’d touched on the outside of the door so as to remove any fingerprints. Re-opening it, she retrieved a second glove and examined the body.

Talk it through, Em, just like we used to. Josie told her.

Okay. I’m seeing wounds consistent with an animal attack, though given the feeling I’m getting I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a natural animal. Emma began. She was narrating her examination to Josie just as she had done when Josie was alive. The gouges are only a little wider than a finger I’d say, which makes me think that’s roughly what it was.

So that rules out something like me.

Yeah. There’s maybe only a third of the blood I’d expect to see from these kinds of injuries. I guess that means something took it. I think— Emma trailed off, stepping up onto the side of the truck and leaning further over the corpse to examine it more carefully.

Something drank it?

Yeah, there’re bite marks around the edge of the wound on the throat. Something fed on the wound for sure.

So that means it could be—?

Vampire, werewolf, or possibly something more exotic.

Then you need to think about the girl.

Right. Emma agreed; looking to the open door and letting her mind wander. A werewolf would’ve been completely feral in its attack, so the girl definitely wouldn’t have walked away. Vampires have been known to take secondary victims back to their lair so they can feed later, but I would’ve thought I’d have seen that happen.

So the girl might be responsible?

Sure could be. Unless it is something exotic, then all bets are off. Our best bet is to try to track her down. Emma stated, pulling back from the corpse, taking off the gloves and pulling them inside out so she could pocket them without smearing the blood inside. As she shut the car door she realized what she’d said. She glanced at Josie.

You’re fine coming along?

Sure, why wouldn’t I be?

Bad memories or the like.

For me or you?

Either. Both. Emma answered honestly. But it’d be nice having you along with me for the ride. I’ve missed you being on the job beside me.

Then let’s get to it! Josie enthused, moving to stand beside the back of the pickup truck. Emma smiled at her and started to move towards her, passing through the cold space before going around to the passenger side of the vehicle. There were blood drops on the floor; they weren’t heavy, but they were clearly drips from a source which had moved away from the vehicle. Emma followed the trail, while reaching behind her and grabbing the grip of her gun. The trail led out onto the street and then up and away from the bar. Emma considered the facts: the woman she’d seen with the lumberjack prior to them entering his vehicle was petite. From her position, Emma wouldn’t have been able to see