Heart of the Grove (Patreon)

The forest was quiet except for the rustle of dry leaves.

Lilith sat on the fallen log, gun resting between her knees, scanning the trees. She had hunted here for centuries. Today someone was hunting her.

The first shot cracked through the canopy. The second and third followed instantly. Three dark holes bloomed high on her chest, right over the heart she had always believed untouchable.

She staggered to her feet, mouth open in a sound that was half snarl, half moan. The pistol stayed in her hand a moment longer, then slipped from her fingers and vanished into the leaves.

Her knees buckled. She collapsed backward across the same moss-covered log, spine arching high, breasts heaving. Blood welled and trickled between the lace of her bra. Every beat of her dying heart sent another wave of unbearable, exquisite fire through her body.

She turned her head toward the trees, eyes still fierce even as they began to glaze. One last tremor ran through her. Then the First Vampire lay still among the autumn leaves, the forest finally claiming what no blade or stake had ever taken before.