Catch

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Vampire slayers mourned those of their ilk who got caught. While most died a true death, some of the very things they hunted lured them to cross over and they became creatures of the night. Or in my case, blood bound with one. Colby and Red, my former comrades-at-arms, treated me as if I was dead, but I never felt more alive.

Jardim Botanico was a botanical paradise famous for its peaceful landscapes.

Minutes away from my hotel, it sat in the heart of the south side of Rio de Janeiro. I’d spent the night sneaking along its gardens, ponds and well-manicured lanes, desperate to escape the predator who stalked my trail. Every time I got close enough to make a run for the streets, he’d pop out from hiding, almost as if daring me to try.

Bloodsucker.

An envelope of silence surrounded me as I hid under the dark green leaves of a tropical plant. The scents of nutmeg and cinnamon lay thick in the air, I hoped they covered mine. My heart raced and sweat made my curls stick to the nape of my neck, not only from the heat, but from anticipation of the chase. I’d been smart this time, wearing a black sleeveless t-shirt, sport-shorts and water bottle clipped to my hip so the Brazilian weather wouldn’t sap my strength. My hair color, though, gave me away most of the time. So pale and yellow, sometimes it seemed like a neon sign saying ‘here I am’.

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