Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
“Mr. Stark,” asked a male reporter in a light blue shirt, “aren’t you afraid you’ll all be hunted now that you’ve revealed yourself? And if you are, will your kind retaliate?”
Stark was quick to reply, his tone firm, “Like any living being, we have a right to defend ourselves, but we have passed several new laws in anticipation of the Great Outing. Killing humans is strictly prohibited, though we are allowed to incapacitate anyone who threatens the life of a vampire.” He paused, staring right into the camera. “My late wife, Anna, believed that with time, once humans understood the benefits of coexistence, violence could be avoided.”
The reporter retorted, “But you’re physically stronger than us, right? You can turn into bats. You—”
Stark held out his hands to stop the man from speaking. “Because there is much mythology surrounding vampires, I will be releasing a comprehensive guide later today that discloses exactly what we can and cannot do.”
“Pfft! Oh, nowww he’s spilling the beans,” I snarled. Where was this dang guide when I’d needed it?
Stark continued, “I hope everyone will take special note of the healing section. While it is now prohibited for us to create more vampires under vampire law, except for extreme situations, it is perfectly legal to assist the terminally ill, the injured, and those suffering from chronic disease.”
Oh shit. Big pharma won’t be happy, I thought.
“You can cure cancer?” one of the female reporters asked.
Stark nodded. “Among other things. Which is why we hope, in time, people will come to see us for what we are: humans who have transformed and been given extraordinary gifts. And with that, I will close with one last item.” Again he looked into the camera. “There is a woman in prison for murder. Masie Kicklighter. But she is innocent. I framed her out of spite, because I was a fool, and fools do not deserve to be with a woman like her—smart, beautiful, and good. I hope the courts will immediately free her since, as you can all see, I am alive and well.”
He removed his tie, unbuttoned his white dress shirt, and slid it off, revealing a ripped set of abs and muscled arms covered in those vine tattoos.
Some of the inmates swooned with “mm-mm-mms…” or “hello, honeys!” or “sweet evil thang, come to Mamma.”
I flashed nasty looks their way as a flicker of jealousy spiked through me.
Stark continued, “Here is my proof. The tattoos on my arms will match the photos of her victim.”
The room of reporters started buzzing with noise.
He continued, “Soon, a new vampire leader will be elected to represent my people and work with the proper human leaders to address any concerns. I wish you all a good night.” He left the stage in a blur.
The prison rec room exploded in expletives of every kind.
“Masie, he was talking about you! You’re going to be free, woman!” said Darla.
I blinked, trying to soak in what just happened. Stark gave it all up—the power, his political party, and probably every ally he’d ever had, all just to clear my name.
The world would know I wasn’t a killer. Not of humans, anyway.
Tears pooled in my eyes. Not because I would hopefully leave this place soon, but because my mamma, Maybell, and even Uncle Jimmie could hold their heads high again.
Suck on that, Netflix.
“Kicklighter, get your things. You’re going home today,” said a guard outside my cell at the crack of dawn.
I rubbed my eyes. “Sorry?”
“Chop Chop, the governor’s given you a pardon.”
For the record, she wasn’t telling me to hurry. Chop Chop was one of my prison nicknames.
“Did he say why?” Not that I was complaining, but it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since Stark went public. This was fast.
The guard shrugged. “You can’t kill something that’s already dead, I guess.”
He guessed right!
He added, “Also, I hear the governor’s wife is ill. Maybe he swapped a favor or something.”
Stark. I bet he’s behind this.
I grabbed my things, which wasn’t much—just a few rolls of toilet paper (aka letters to my family) and a postcard from all the people at the Rooster, with a picture of Barney on the front.
“See ya, Chainsaw,” I said to my cellmate, who was rolled up in a blanket on the top bunk.
“See ya, Ginsu,” she grumbled and went back to sleep.
I followed the guard to a section of the prison I’d only seen once before when I’d checked in. Only now, I was checking out.
I kept pinching myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I’d finally be going home, not that I had one anymore. The Carlins had ended up selling their place after I went to prison. Couldn’t say I blamed them after a gruesome “murder” had been committed in their guesthouse.
Still, I’d get to return to Leiper’s Fork and the Rooster. I could help Uncle Jimmie save the place, which had been struggling ever since my conviction. Some of the people in town wanted nothing to do with us Kicklighters.