United Service
Title Page
Vampires Exist Among Us
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilogue
About the Author
Other Colony Series Books
Acknowledgements
Eternal Service book #1
Enduring Service book #3
Reliant Service book #4
Other Books by Silkhaven Publishing, LLC
UNITED SERVICE
By Regina Morris
Smashwords Edition
Silkhaven Publishing, LLC
Silkhaven Publishing, LLC
ISBN: 978–0–9888222–6–9
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013911020
Copyright (c) 2013, Regina Morris
Initial public release version.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without the written permission of Regina Morris with the exception in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Printed in the United States of America.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, places and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are fictitiously used. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Silkhaven Publishing, LLC does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third–party Web sites or their content.
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Adult content within. Sex, nudity, violence, and language. Suggested audience is 18+ years of age.
Vampires exist among us.
They can be our neighbor, best friend, our child’s teacher …
They alter their aged appearance based upon the amount of blood they consume. They move to a new area, drink a lot of blood, and appear young. Slowly they limit their intake of blood and age, right in front of our unsuspecting eyes. After decades, they fake their death, move, and do it over and over again.
Most live quiet lives in an effort to blend in.
Some however want power and control.
The Colony is an elite group of vampires sworn to protect the President of the United States from these rogue vampires.
CHAPTER ONE
Gentle rain drizzled on Sterling’s nude body like healing kisses, renewing his sense of self–peace. His headache had subsided a little, but in truth, the ache always persisted. The pain was just more manageable now. Sterling reclined on the patio chair, his body dwarfing the size of the furniture as he stretched to wake up in his solitude. His skin chafed against the chair, feeling slightly sunburned. He opened his eyes to a cloudless sky and cursed as the sun blinded him . . . No more relief would come today.
As a half–breed vampire, he didn’t have the protective inner eyelids the purebreds had, so he closed his eyes against the sun. He thought of the day’s schedule. He knew he would spend most of his time down at the penitentiary. He groaned because every time he visited the place, his body ached. It wasn’t being around humans that did him in, but rather, the physical touching of evidence. His ability to get information from inanimate objects proved helpful in solving cases, and he was happy to help. But his body always paid the price, and he detested the side effects.
Sterling’s touch would tell him everything he needed to know about the item’s owner, what it was used for, and the feelings and emotions surrounding the item. Each touch would make his skin crawl and itch, and the more he touched, the more his skin would scream in agony. After a few hours, his head would pound with a migraine.
But the pain meant nothing; it was just one more damn thing about his human half he had to deal with. Most vampire abilities had good side effects, but it was just his lot in life to be cursed. Fortunately though, his ability did allow him to bring some of the sickest and most depraved criminals to trial, and that was the justification he needed to keep living his lonely life.
He squinted at the sun again as he reached for his sunglasses on the ground beside him, and sat up. The private sleeping porch of the Mansion was his little oasis, and his alone. No one would disturb him while he healed and sat in his solitude at his home, which everyone jokingly called Fang Manor.
Solitude and loneliness were only separated by a thin line. A very thin line — and he knew the feeling all too well.
Sterling inhaled deeply, taking in the crisp morning air. He heard the chirping of the songbirds nearby and the wind chime down below swaying in the breeze. Cursing softly, he realized he could also hear his father with his new wife stirring in their bedroom, next to his sundeck.
It was time to get up. The mansion’s walls weren’t soundproof, and he now tried to block out a conversation which had changed into more intimate noises. “Newlyweds,” he thought as he rolled his eyes. No way was he listening to an encore of last night. There wasn’t anything Oedipal in his distaste of the noise; it just reminded him how powerless he was to find a wife of his own. He had failed to secure an arranged marriage, and his own attempts to find a purebred vampire mate had proved unsuccessful, many times over.
He stood, scooped up rain pooled on the chair beside him, and splashed it on his face. Shaking the water from his shoulder length hair, he moaned contently at the soothing touch. He knew this moment would be the last time he would feel good all day.
Checking his rain catchers, he poured the collected rain into bottles to be used later. Sterling then walked through the few puddles of rainwater which sat on the stone floor of the deck. He opened the glass door and entered his private bedroom. He had chosen the decor himself. The cherry wood king–sized bed with matching nightstand and dresser filled the room. A hunter green duvet, with burgundy and gold pillows, in various sizes and shapes, were at the head and foot of the bed. An old gold cross, which he had inherited from his human grandmother, hung on the wall above the bed. As pleasant as the room was, Sterling spent little time here, even though this house had been his home for too many decades to count.
He lived here with his father, stepmother, aunt, and several team members, making up “The Colony”, a special operative team of vampires employed by the federal government to protect the President and the American way of life. St
erling was one of the founding members of the Colony, which had been established in 1866, after the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln. It was really the only life Sterling knew. The job had benefits and perks, but also pitfalls. But what job didn’t?
Sterling glanced around the room. It was a gilded cage with free room and board, paid for by Uncle Sam. Sure, he loved his family, and Fang Manor was a far cry from slumming it, but because of security measures he could never entertain guests at the place. A wife could live here with him, if he had one. A girlfriend? Hell, he never dated a woman longer than, well, an hour tops. And even then, the women were humans.
Speaking of human females, he was hungry, and there wasn’t one in his bed at the moment. This is exactly why he kept an apartment in the city.
Damn. His fangs were already extended, expecting to eat. It was time for plan B. He shook his head as he walked across the room. Next to the air purifier on the floor sat a small personal refrigerator. He opened it and pulled out a bag of AB negative blood. Bagged blood. Not his favorite, but at least the food was free. He poured some into a mug and warmed it in the microwave which sat atop the refrigerator. It took only a minute for him to down it all after the microwave beeped. There was no reason to savor bagged blood. Honestly, no reason at all. The packaging, for starters, was all wrong.
The dried rain still clung to his skin. Not wanting to wash it off, he skipped a shower. In his private bathroom, he stared at his blurred reflection in the mirror. One corner of his mouth turned up in a half grin, as his reflection reminded him of the vampire lore that Hollywood messed up in their movies. Hollywood did get the mirror reflection right though. Thanks to the silver in mirrors, and even the silver in the old fashioned photography, vampire images were always obscured.
As he brushed his shoulder length dirty–blond hair, he studied himself in the mirror. He spent time last night in the mansion’s private gym lifting weights with his father. Sterling’s muscular physique was well formed, and even the poor reflection showed his ripped muscles. He took great pride in this lure since it worked so well where human women were concerned.
He paused and leaned into the mirror. Was that a gray hair? Yep, but only one. Next, he studied his eyes. Wrinkles had formed overnight as well. Looking down at the medallion of the Patron Saint of Rain, Genevieve, he noticed a gray chest hair. Guessing his age was now in the mid–thirties he continued to brush his hair as he waited for the effects of his breakfast on his body.
The wait wasn’t long. He felt the warmed blood course through his veins and his cells began to regenerate. His hair gained more color, his wrinkles ironed themselves out, and he had a healthier glow about him. He took a deep breath and glanced back in the mirror. His fuzzy reflection showed him at the age of twenty–seven again. It was his age during his Jahrling Year, when he transitioned into a full vampire and his fangs extended to their full size to allow him to eat a blood–only diet. His fangs came in late because he was a half–breed. If he had been a purebred vampire, he could look as young as the age when most humans got their wisdom teeth, their early twenties. It was just one more thing to thank his long dead mother for, not that he ever had a chance to meet her.
The blood lust from his morning’s breakfast finally hit him. The sensation would come quicker if he had injected the blood direct into his veins. By orally consuming it, his spleen had to process the blood from his digestive system to his circulatory system, which took time. The first drops of blood acted as a fountain of youth, then eventually affecting other areas of his body like liquid Viagra. With no woman to satisfy him, he ignored his aroused state and decided to dress. Besides, feeling miserable was the norm. It didn’t bother him to remain uncomfortable.
He opened the top drawer of his dresser and pulled out a pair of socks and underwear. From the middle drawer, he pulled out a set of skin coverings. They resembled long johns but were made from a light cotton fabric. They covered him from neck to ankles and prevented most of everything from touching him. They weren’t a great fashion statement, but they worked well. He walked to his closet for a pair of jeans and a shirt.
He had just finished dressing when his cell phone buzzed. It was another Colony member, Daniel, who was working downtown, and the one vampire in the world Sterling avoided as much as possible.
The phone rang again, and Sterling stared at it with a grimace on his face. When it rang a third time, he answered it. “Yes, what?” Sterling huffed.
“Good morning to you too, mate,” Daniel said in a slightly faded British accent. “I’m with the police looking into a bloody murder, quite literally. I think you ought to see this.”
Sterling cursed under his breath. Miss Manners never covered the social protocol of how to behave when dealing with a man you murdered in cold blood, and then had turned into a vampire against his will.
He could understand the need to exact revenge, but Daniel forgave him for what he did. On top of that, Daniel was nice to him, which made no sense to Sterling. He gritted his teeth, “Text me the address.”
CHAPTER TWO
Sterling jumped into his Ferrari and punched the address into its GPS system. As he drove, the intensity of the itchy sensation on his skin grew. He blamed the irritation on heavy smog as he got closer to the city, as well as mold, cedar and other allergens probably high this time of year. Right now any areas not hidden by his skin covering and gloves itched, mostly his face and neck. He could live with that. His headache remained mild, so he was in good shape to start his day.
The GPS system guided him to a beautiful two story home. The red brick house resembled something from a Norman Rockwell painting. It resided in a little neighborhood tucked away from the busy streets by a tall grove of trees. The house even had a white picket fence.
Police cars lined the streets, which told Sterling the forensics team remained inside. Sterling parked his car on a side street and walked up to the officer guarding the entrance to the home. Judging by the man’s jacket, he worked on the homicide squad. Sterling wasn’t surprised, considering the smell of blood that was in the air. The officer seemed young, and human – so not a problem. Sterling looked the man in the eye. “You are going to let me pass.” The man stepped aside, and even apologized for being in Sterling’s way.
The early morning sunlight shined through the windows and glass sections in the front door. It lit up the downstairs foyer as Sterling walked in, causing his shadow to stretch across the marble entryway. Blood stained the floor of the home. The red spatter ran from the front door all the way up the staircase, marking the white carpet on each step. Sterling placed his feet carefully outside the dark red trail as he walked further into the home, removing his sunglasses once he was safely inside.
The forensics team kept busy by bagging, swiping and collecting the evidence. The humans were too busy to notice Sterling as he searched the downstairs for Daniel. Not finding him on the ground floor, Sterling walked up the huge, slightly winding staircase. He found Daniel on the second floor in one of the bedrooms. “I’m here. What do you need to show me?” he asked Daniel. He rarely made eye contact with the vamp he had murdered and had turned, and today, as he looked away from Daniel, was no different.
The blue–painted room seemed like it was for a young boy. The double bed, the computer and backpack in the corner told Sterling the boy was no longer a toddler. He walked over to the nightstand and opened a small plastic case that contained a retainer. He set the case down and touched other objects on the table – an mp3 player, a headset and a LEGO toy.
Daniel stood over the bed studying a bloodstain. “Right. Thanks for coming by,” said the gray haired vampire, who appeared to be in his mid–sixties. “What I need to show you is in the master chamber.” He led Sterling from the tiny room down the long hallway to the bedroom. “This house is owned by a Ms. Lenora Miller. She lived here alone with her son, Stephen, who is ten years old. I don’t know where the boy is, but I think I found what’s left of his mother.”
They entered the master bedroom where Sterling noticed a uniformed officer. “Sterling, this is Captain Travis. He’s with the crime scene search unit. He’s the one that alerted me about this case,” Daniel said.
The officer wore his dress blues, and they were crisp and sharp. Even his badge was polished. Judging by the man’s salt–and–pepper hair, Sterling guessed the man to be in his mid–fifties. Taking a good look at the officer, Sterling felt a slight tingle on his skin. He could tell the officer was a vampire, one of the many who hid among humans and lived their lives in secrecy. His appearance now made sense to Sterling. Everything in tip–top shape, nothing out of place, and nothing to notice about the man. He probably dotted every ‘i’ and crossed every ‘t’. It was a perfect camouflage in a crowded world. Blend in, and don’t be noticed.
Captain Travis glanced from Daniel to Sterling, and then recognition set in his eyes. It was a look Sterling knew too well as a half–breed. Sterling gave off no predator threat and appeared to most vampires as human. The only telltale sign to Sterling’s lineage was he had no body warmth, nor did he reek of human food and body odor.
“Sterling’s a good bloke, I’ve worked with him for years,” Daniel said, offering the officer no other credentials for Sterling.
Travis’ muscles relaxed as he nodded toward Sterling. “Personal diary, phone and laptop,” Travis said, handing a box to Daniel. “We’ll need them as evidence, but you should scan them first for any delicate information before the humans review them.” Travis picked up his field–testing kit and walked to the door to leave the room. “Just make sure I get everything back once you’ve scrubbed it down.”
Once they were alone, Daniel set the box down near the bed. The bed was unmade, with the sheets rumpled and hanging to the floor. A thick chain was wrapped around the bed and through the frame itself, held in place by padlocks. The chains were slack, as if once they had held something down, but that something was no longer there to hold the chains taut. A small layer of dust lay on top of the heavily stained fitted sheet.
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