Paranormal After Dark

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “You’re not ready to hunt alone,” he said dismissively.

  I sighed. You have to let me off the leash sometime. “I’m ready to hunt without someone looking over my shoulder.”

  “We don’t have time to argue about this tonight. Rozaline and the rest of her clan will return soon. We can leave this fight for another time.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re letting Rozaline’s whole group stay here. Didn’t you just say we have to keep a low profile? How are we supposed to do this with a huge group of vampires running in and out of this house?”

  “Don’t worry about the Peregrinus. They will not be a problem.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Must you constantly question my judgment? I trust Rozaline. That is all you need to know.”

  “But what about the rest of her group? Do you trust them too? How do you know one of them won’t do something stupid, or bring those Acting Sanctorum people here?”

  “The Peregrinus and I have a longstanding history. And they would no sooner bring the Acta Sanctorum here than I would. I worry more about you alerting them than Rozaline and her family doing so.”

  Heat rose to my face. This was clearly a losing battle. I groaned and threw my hands up in frustration. Obviously, my opinion doesn’t matter here. “I need some space, okay? Just let me hunt alone tonight.”

  “Alyssa, I said no. Not tonight. You will either hunt with me, or you will starve. Make your choice.”

  “Fine. Let’s go before they come back,” I grumbled. I better not have to spend the rest of my immortality being treated like a child.

  Reluctantly, I left with Lysander. I tried to focus my efforts on the hunt and use my new skills, but there were too many thoughts running through my mind. No matter how much I tried to shut it out, I kept thinking of the kiss.

  Even though I was frustrated by how Lysander was treating me, there was still an attraction there. Every time I looked at him, I thought about the softness of his lips.

  Needless to say, my hunting trip that night wasn’t much of a success.

  We had only just arrived back at Lysander’s house when Rozaline returned with five others.

  “Alyssa, allow me to introduce the Peregrinus to you,” she said happily.

  They looked like a scruffy band of misfits. I wondered how long it had been since their last shower. They all were in need of serious grooming. They filed one by one out of a big, dirty RV, smiling and holding out a hand in friendship, and introducing themselves as they passed me.

  Nicholas passed me first. He was a man of average height, perhaps no taller than five foot nine. Rozaline introduced him to me as her mate. He had a weathered, mountain man look to him; dark brown wavy hair —matted from lack of grooming. He had a prominent nose, and his chin was cleft and almost hidden by a permanent five o’clock shadow.

  Lysander stepped out in front of me to greet him. “Old friend, how are you?” He embraced Nicholas, patting him hard on the back.

  “Tired, and in need of a shower,” Nicholas said. “It’s been a long drive.”

  “Yes, you could do with a shower,” Lysander joked, “but first let me introduce you to Alyssa.”

  Nicholas looked to me with tired eyes.

  “Nicholas is one of the founders of this clan,” Lysander said enthusiastically. It was the most excitement I had seen from Lysander since I’d met him. I guessed these two men were old buddies.

  “Nice to meet you, Nick,” I said feigning interest. Lysander’s excitement wasn’t enough to change my mind. After all that I had heard about the Saints, from Rozaline, I didn’t want any of these strangers here.

  “I prefer, Nicholas,” he said gruffly.

  “Sorry, Nicholas.” Great, he’s a jerk. I hope they don’t stay long.

  “Don’t mind him,” Rozaline interrupted. “We haven’t hunted in a few days. His attitude will change once he is cleaned and has had a chance to feed.”

  Nicholas shuffled past me into the house.

  Jessie greeted me next. She was tall, unlike Rozaline, with chestnut-brown hair. She had a muscular, athletic build, appearing to be in her early twenties. As she passed me, she mumbled a hello, keeping her eyes on the ground as she walked.

  Crystal enthusiastically thanked me as she approached. “It is so wonderful of you to allow us to stay here.”

  Don’t thank me. If it were up to me, you guys would be staying in that beat-up old RV. I don’t want any strangers in my new home.

  Crystal smiled so genuinely, I could not ruin her mood with my annoyance. I forced a smile and accepted her hand in friendship. Like Rozaline, she was also a short woman. Her hair was a thick cascade of wavy, brown locks falling just below the center of her back. She wore a beautiful crimson tank top with lace trim and a black floor-length skirt.

  Crystal’s mate was an extremely tall man who towered over me as he approached to make his greeting. He offered the same shaggy, weathered appearance as Nicholas; however, his hair was sandy-brown with hints of gold. He wore a plain brown t-shirt, blue jeans, and boots.

  “Nice to meet you, Alyssa,” he greeted, looking down at me and smiling. “I’m Andrew, but you can call me Drew.”

  “Nice to meet you too.” My annoyance faded. They did seem like they could be interesting people. Still, the worry of Rozaline’s warning and the threat of the Acta Sanctorum kept me wary of any strangers.

  Last, there was Damon, a large, muscular man who could have probably been a bouncer in any club in Vegas. You would have never known he was a vampire. Dark skin masked his true self so well that only his eyes could give him away to a passerby. Those pale gray-blue vampire eyes were a complete abnormality next to his dark-brown skin. He filled the entire doorway as he approached me.

  “Hey,” he said, giving me a quick nod and a smile.

  We were now eight in this small, three-bedroom house and one would have laughed to see such a band of misfits all in one place.

  Rozaline assured us that they would only stick around for a few days and wouldn’t be a bother. They just needed shelter and a few warm showers before heading off to their next destination.

  Chapter 13

  THE FIRST NIGHT after the arrival of the Peregrinus, I found myself not wanting to leave the comfort of Lysander’s bed. The newcomers seemed friendly enough, but they were strange to me, and I wasn’t ready to start socializing with them.

  I lay awake, staring up at the old popcorn ceiling, wondering how I was going to deal with this new challenge. My life had been completely turned upside down in the span of a week and my head was still spinning from all of the changes. Before I had met Lysander, I had been blissfully unaware that vampires existed and had no clue that Kallisto and her coven were trying to take over the city. I hadn’t known, nor cared, who the Acta Sanctorum were. And, most of all, I had nothing to stop me from going out alone at night.

  Lysander tossed and turned a bit, as he normally did just before rising. I tried not to make a sound, hoping he too would leave me alone.

  He rolled close to me, raising his hand to gently stroke my cheek. I allowed myself to look at him. His face looked so angelic among the soft sheets. I remembered our kiss, wondering again what had caused him to stop so abruptly. I gazed into his eyes, probing him silently for some echo of the emotion he had showed me the night before, but there was nothing.

  Sitting up quickly, I looked away towards the dark curtains, not wanting to show Lysander the disappointment in my eyes.

  I heard the sounds of others moving around in the house. There would be no chance for more personal time with Lysander while strangers were around.

  “Don’t be afraid of them,” he said softly.

  “I’m not afraid,” I said, looking back into his angelic face. “I’m just not ready to deal with them.”

  I wish I could know what he is thinking, what is behind those gorgeous eyes.

  “Go out and meet them, get to know them. They are good people,” he urged.

>   “Maybe after I hunt.”

  “You’re hungry already?” Lysander asked as he sat up. The bed sheets fell down to his waist, exposing his gorgeous, muscular chest.

  “I will be soon,” I said, trying to hide my admiring smile.

  “Wonderful. We will get an early start tonight.”

  I softened my approach and spoke cautiously. “Perhaps I could go out for a little by myself. I would only be gone for a little while.” I felt a little distance between myself and this house might help me clear my head a bit.

  “No.” Just like the night before, his answer was instantaneous.

  “And why not?” I found myself snapping back at him. I hated that I was not allowed to leave the house without his permission.

  “No,” he said again, with a measured note of anger this time.

  “No, that’s it,” I said coldly, throwing my hands into the air. “You tell me I need to learn to accept what I am. I need to hunt and feed on my own. How am I to learn if you won’t let me try? How am I to survive on my own if you don’t let me go?”

  I could tell my words had struck a chord with him, but his expression wasn’t angry; there was pain in his eyes.

  Was it the fact that I pushed for some freedom, or the fact that I wanted freedom that bothered him?

  Whatever it was, Lysander didn’t appear pleased with my choice of words.

  “You’ve only been immortal a week and still know nothing of what you are. I will not have you parading around the city causing attention to come to us. There are too many dangers out there for a young vampire like yourself.”

  “I’m capable of taking care of myself, you know.” I glared at him angrily, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

  “Oh? You can care for yourself, can you?” he asked, his tone painfully condescending. “That’s why I found you beaten and nearly raped back there at the college. You took care of yourself pretty well that night, didn’t you?”

  That was a low blow, but I wasn’t about to let Lysander guilt me. I gritted my teeth, trying to bite back the anger in my voice. “You can’t keep me leashed to this house or you, Lysander.” Whoops. I said that a little louder than I had planned. “I need some breathing room.”

  For a moment there was silence. Lysander took a deep breath before speaking. “You obviously don’t see, or can’t comprehend, that I am trying to protect you.” His anger was beginning to show as the volume of his voice rose.

  “Protect me!” I rolled my eyes. “You’re protecting me from what? Myself?” My words became shouts. I had no doubt anyone in the house could hear our argument now.

  “You seem to have forgotten about our little issue with the coven.” His gaze dared me to challenge him further.

  “If you were so worried about the coven you’d have done something already,” I snapped at him. My fists balled up in anger. “If they’re so scary, why let me out of the house at all? Why don’t you bring me my dinner, then?”

  “You are an arrogant little child, and you don’t deserve the life I gave you.”

  His words hit me hard. Arrogant little child. I knew better than to keep pushing, but anger got the better of me. I’ll show him arrogant.

  “Oh, yes. Thank you, Lysander, for turning me into a goddamned blood-sucking monster. Is that what you want? Thanks for ruining my life?”

  He sat silently for a moment, his eyes shooting daggers at me. I turned my head, avoiding his angry glare.

  “If you’re unhappy with this life, I can easily remedy that.”

  Maybe I went a little too far. I gulped. “No, I don’t want to die, if that’s what you’re threatening.”

  “I’m not threatening. I’m giving you a solution to your problem.” His voice was a cold monotone.

  “I never said I wanted death. What I want is freedom.” I softened my voice again. “You want me to learn to live the life I have now, but you won’t let me do it myself. Just because Kallisto’s coven is out there, I can’t hunt—”

  “No! It is because you are a selfish, ungrateful little whelp. Perhaps when you grow up, I will allow you some freedom. You don’t seem to have the maturity to handle that at this moment.”

  His words stung. I had never been called selfish before. I knew he didn’t understand my basic need for freedom. I just needed to be alone for a while, to clear my head and accept everything.

  “How dare you!” Again I spoke before thinking. “I ask a simple thing. To hunt and return back to the house alone, and you insult me.”

  “You will not go out alone,” he barked at me. “And I will have no more discussion of this.”

  I didn’t respond. I leaped out of bed and headed for the door, slamming it hard as I left his room.

  I went outside to the back patio, hoping for a little peace and quiet. The silence and cool night breeze welcomed me.

  The patio and backyard continued the modest theme that I’d found all over Lysander’s home. It was a simple slab of concrete, covered with a cream-colored aluminum pergola. The yard itself was basic rock, a desert landscape with two pine trees anchoring each end. On the patio was a frosted glass table and chairs with a weathered black futon set against the wall.

  I took a spot on the futon. Resting my head on the cushion, I looked up through the open slats of the pergola at the twinkling stars. Noises could still be heard from inside of the house. Rozaline and Nicholas were sitting in the living room just on the other side of the sliding glass door. They were deep in conversation, sharing information regarding the goings-on in the city. With my supernatural hearing, the sounds of the news on TV and the rustle of newspapers could be heard easily through the walls.

  A few of the clan still rested in the back bedroom. I saw faint shadows moving across the shaded window.

  I tried to enjoy the peace and quiet on the patio, but as I looked up at the stars, my thoughts turned to my old life and my favorite café. I wanted nothing more than to sit on my comfy couch and listen to the endless stream of bad poetry just one more time. Lysander would never allow that. I was dead to that world now. I wanted to hate Lysander for how he was treating me. I felt like a prisoner in this house. I wasn’t even allowed out unsupervised. I may be alive, but what kind of life is this? I have no freedom.

  I wondered if anybody missed me. Has the manager of the café noticed I wasn’t around anymore? Had any of my friends found it odd that I wasn’t there?

  In the week since my transformation, everything had changed, and I was no longer able to enjoy the simple pleasures of my old daily life.

  A tear streamed down my face.

  I felt like I had lost all control of my life. It was an insult to my pride that I was trapped here.

  I struggled with the paradox. Up to this point, I had done what I wanted and gone where I wanted. All because of one unfortunate night, I was now under the rule of someone else.

  This must be some form of cruel penance for my years of careless freedom.

  Emotion came flooding to the surface. Everything had happened so quickly, and I hadn’t allowed myself time to properly grieve for the loss of my life, my friends, and my independence.

  “I miss them,” I sobbed to myself.

  I wanted to see my friend Fallon and tell her what had happened to me. If she hadn’t left me alone that night, my life wouldn’t have changed. I wouldn’t be this thing. I wouldn’t be here, a prisoner in Lysander’s home.

  I needed the comfort of my familiar surroundings. I missed the stale smell of cigarettes and coffee.

  Would Fallon even understand if I told her? Could she? Vampires are works of fiction, not walking, talking people.

  I tried to think of ways I could tell her what I was without her thinking I was a cold-blooded killer. If I ever see her again, can I make her understand the fact that blood keeps me alive? That I must feed every night, and because of that, I choose to feed from those who do harm to others?

  Even to myself, it sounded stupid. I sounded like some form of bastardized superhero.


  There was no use. I was not meant to deal with humans or society as an equal anymore. No matter how I thought about it, I knew there was no way she could accept it. I had hardly accepted it.

  How could I still maintain a mortal friendship, being what I was? She would shun me, ask me how many I had killed, and secretly wonder if I would look to her for food.

  If she didn’t run away screaming in terror, she might want to be turned, too, and I couldn’t pass this thing on to another person.

  I’m damned now, only able to associate with those of my kind, if they will accept me.

  The tears kept streaming down my face. I wiped them as they hit my cheek, noticing they had a faint brownish tinge to them. Blood.

  I could do nothing anymore without blood. I cursed it. I don’t want to be this thing. I don’t want blood. I want to be normal again!

  “Why did Fallon have to ditch me that night?” I sobbed.

  The sliding glass door opened, and I heard the footsteps of someone coming outside. I quickly folded my arms around my knees and lowered my head down so my face could not be seen.

  “There you are,” Crystal said. “I was wondering where you had gone.”

  “I just want to be alone.” I didn’t want to look up and show my tears to this strange woman.

  “It’s okay, Alyssa,” she said. Her voice was so calm and soothing. “You’re young, aren’t you? When were you turned?”

  “A week ago,” I sobbed, hiding my face in my knees.

  Crystal sat down next to me and put her arm around me. “Poor thing, and all you have is grumpy old Lysander to help you through this.”

  I chuckled through my tears at the sound of it. Grumpy old Lysander. I had not heard anyone describe him in such a way, but after the argument I just had, it did seem to fit.

  “I feel so out of control.”

  “I know, it’s hard at first. You give up a lot sometimes. But you must remember, immortality is a gift.”

  “But I didn’t ask for this.” My sobs grew louder.

  Crystal pulled me in close. I leaned in, still covering my face with my crossed arms.