“OUCH!” A burning pain explodes in my shoulder.

I stare blankly at my shoulder for a few moments as the cold trickle of blood seeps across my new denim jacket. That’s going to stain. A familiar rush sweeps through my head as my body begins the healing process, nerves tingling to ease the pain. My astonishment quickly turns to fury, and I turn to face the gangly youth who stands holding the gun. He s trembling from head to toe, the pistol at the end of his extended arm bouncing up and down. It was a miracle that he had hit me.

“You’re…” He stammers.

“Bloody Furious!” I growl. “What the hell did you do that for?”

“T…t…to …supposed to…kill …”

Wide eyed, the youth’s fear hits me in palpable waves; the rancid stench of excessive sweat and acrid aftershave. Instead of exciting me, it only serves to fuel my anger.

“WHY?!”

He visibly jumps.

“Destroy…unnatural…”

“By hitting me in the shoulder?!”

“The book said… didn’t matter where… the metal… ”

“Well it didn’t work.”

An itch lingers across my shoulder where the healing has re-sealed the wound, an irritation. Rolling my shoulders to stretch the skin, I and note his eyes follow my movement. It’s as infuriating as the itch he created.

“What metal?”

“Z…z…z…zinc.”

“Zinc?” I snort. “What the hell good is Zinc?”

“I… um… the book…”

Scowling as I wait for an answer, I study my attacker. His long limbs are clad in camouflage gear; useless Nottingham’ streetlights where the browns and green blobs are in stark contrast to the rectilinear grey concrete and red brick buildings that surround us. At his waist, the holster for his pistol rests alongside a bulging leather pouch, presumably containing the rest of his unusual missiles. A logo stitched to the shoulder of his right arm catches my attention and I burst out laughing.

“Incompetent fool.”

Despite his fear, the boy straightens, a sense of pride taking offence.

“I’ll show you.”

Taking a deep breath, he straighten his arm and pull the trigger.

The pain that bursts across my chest eradicates my laughter, refuelling the fury at my assault.

“It’s silver you want for werewolves.”

I snarl indicating the roaring wolf constrained by the red circle of his badge.

“Zinc doesn’t kill anything. I can tell you for a fact that it only serves to infuriate vampires.”