An hour and a half.
A freaking hour and a half by train to reach Cold Spring, a small village on the Hudson River surrounded by woods and mountains.
Yeah, the perfect place to quench my thirst.
I tried to hold back as long as I could, I swear.
But the few drops I managed to drink from Isabelle or Mrs. Lunsford weren't even close to enough.
And with the outskirts of New York being patrolled by the Monster Reapers in search of the so-called head-chopping vampire, there's nothing left to do but go hunting elsewhere.
As usual, Isabelle thinks I'm with Elaine, and Elaine thinks I'm out with some milf picked up at a lounge bar.
Honestly, I'd rather be in either of those places than stuck here in the middle of nowhere, hunting for prey.
Yeah... sometimes being a vampire is a real pain in the ass.
A man in the woods—I was drawn by the suspicious barking of a dog.
A hunter, apparently.
