Night Stalker

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Night Stalker Page 2

by Nikki Jefford


  I wasn’t paying attention to her words so much as the brush of her smooth skin on mine. Relishing the connection awhile longer, I didn’t answer immediately. When I did, it was to say, “I’m glad that you’re still you.”

  “Wouldn’t want to be anyone else,” Cassie said without skipping a beat. “And stop looking at me all smoldering sexy before you tempt me to break my number-one rule.” She scooted her arm a couple inches away from mine.

  “I’m all about breaking the rules,” I said, gaze drifting to her pale pink lips that smiled so easily, unlike the East Coast folks always rushing around the city.

  “Here you are, mate,” Lucas said, setting a tall slender glass on the counter in front of me.

  “Thanks, dude,” I returned, earning yet another smack from Cassie, who hadn’t stopped smiling since the moment I swept in from behind. I lifted the glass of orangey-red liquid to my lips and took a swig. The alcohol went down smooth, cool, and sweet. “Tasty,” I said with an approving nod.

  Smile splitting his cheeks, Lucas said “thank you” in what sounded like possibly his real voice. I dug into my back pocket for my wallet, but before I could fish it out, Lucas said, “On the house, mate,” his phony accent returning.

  “Thanks,” I said, lifting my glass for another taste. As I set it down, I looked over at Cassie’s grinning face. “You want one?”

  “I had something earlier,” she said.

  Lucas nodded at us and moved down the counter to take an order from a sun-kissed blonde with freckles scattered like flecks of sand across her nose and cheeks. She wore flip-flops, surf shorts, and a bikini top. The whole “anything goes” mix of casual and dressy clubgoers delighted me. As Cassie had mentioned, the island allowed a person, living or otherwise, to be whomever they wished. There was something enchanting about the island life.

  THREE

  Standing beneath the terrace’s overhead shade, I gazed out at the Atlantic’s impossibly blue waters that shimmered in the glow of the rising sun. Although I’d stayed out all night, I felt deliciously awake. Humidity clung to my skin. It filled my lungs and bathed my soul with its warmth.

  There was a click as the large glass door to the terrace opened. Joss took two steps outside, eyes squinting as he winced. “How can you stand out here for so long? The humidity is intolerable.”

  Chuckling, I turned my back to the glittering ocean. “Top of the morning to you, too.”

  But Joss had already turned around and headed back inside. I followed him into the penthouse, at once relishing the icy embrace of the air-conditioning. While sun and heat couldn’t burn up a vampire, we were extremely sensitive to it, preferring the cold and dark.

  I’d always been willing to tolerate a bit of discomfort in exchange for new adventures.

  A knock at the door caused my heart to leap in eager anticipation of Cassie. It took me a second to remember we’d agreed to meet at the marina later that afternoon. Still, I couldn’t help fantasizing about her standing in the hallway looking all sexy surfer girl, hair tumbling over her shoulders, lips puckering as she mouthed each syllable of “polo.”

  I got stiff just thinking about it.

  Before I could cross the room and get to the door, Joss answered with surprising speed. He grabbed a tray laden with a small teapot, decorative box of individually bagged teas, dainty plate arranged with lemon slices, cup, and saucer. After handing the bellhop a tip, Joss carried the tray to the corner table with a hint of a smile on his lips. Having set the tray down, he quickly closed the foot-wide gap left between the curtains, closing out the last of the ambient light. Only Joss could complain about the humidity one moment then pour himself a steaming cup of tea the next.

  Cup filled, he set the teapot down with a gentle tap and glanced up to see me watching.

  “Do you require refreshment?” Joss asked. “I presumed you had your fill last night.”

  Actually, I hadn’t. Not a drop. I didn’t need it. I’d juiced up, so to speak, before we caught our flight out of LaGuardia. Cassie’s company had filled my senses with something as vital to me as blood. Friendship. Laughter. Animation.

  More than that, I found myself longing for a female companion, preferably a vampire, a lifetime mate.

  Cassie fit the bill perfectly. Adorably sexy with a sense of adventure and humor. She’d stopped aging at twenty-four, making her only a few years older than me. I was much older than her in terms of actual years on Earth by a couple of centuries, but the ages we’d locked into kept us young at heart, and our bodies never grew old or wary.

  My eyes went out of focus and my mind wandered longingly over to the blue-eyed beauty with wheat-colored hair and a smile that could light up the grayest of days.

  Joss cleared his throat impatiently. “Well, did you solve the case of the dead vampire?”

  I snickered at once, harder still when Joss squinted at me utterly oblivious to the hilarity of his word choice. I couldn’t wait to meet up with Cassie and repeat his question. Cas would definitely see the humor in it.

  “We’re taking a boat over to Anguilla this afternoon to talk to the vamp’s friend.”

  Joss sniffed derisively. “I trust you won’t drag this nonsense out for too long. I only brought so many books.”

  “You should really let me buy you an e-reader.”

  Joss scowled. This had been a sore subject for many years, beginning with the first Sony e-readers when I’d declared it the future of reading and Joss had defended paperbacks as though they were an endangered species on the brink of extinction.

  At least he had a passion.

  “The day you drink fruit punch instead of blood is the day I’ll read from an electronic tablet.” Joss wrinkled his nose as though getting a whiff of something truly offensive.

  “Fair enough,” I said, heading to the bedroom for some shut-eye before I met up with Cassie for the afternoon and evening.

  ***

  The boat ride over to Anguilla looked like something from National Geographic. Crystal clear waters rivaled the brilliant blue sky. It hurt my eyes, but it was worth the discomfort. Cassie mostly stayed below deck while her human friend, Michael, navigated the ocean from the top deck of his small yacht. I sat in the chair beside him wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap, taking it all in.

  A raw red wound marred Michael’s neck, and I would have been willing to bet a pint of blood Cassie had been the cause. I was happy to turn my attention back to the water when Michael slowed the boat and pointed out a great big sea turtle gliding just below the surface.

  Releasing a breath, I said, “Absolutely magnificent. I’ve never seen one that big.”

  “The leatherback sea turtle can weigh up to two thousand pounds,” Michael said.

  “Damn,” I said with appreciation.

  Michael grinned. “Been around a long time, too. The oldest known sea turtle fossils date all the way back around a hundred and fifty million years ago.”

  “Older than me,” I said with a grin wide enough to show off my sharpened molars.

  “Old enough to have lived with the dinosaurs,” Michael returned, gaze following the turtle’s progress.

  A silent chuckle shook my chest. I appreciated Michael’s easy acceptance of a vampire by his side.

  “Are we there?” Cassie yelled from below deck.

  “Not yet,” I hollered back. “We were just admiring a sea turtle. Come look.”

  Cassie poked her head out, but only to stick her tongue out at us then laugh before disappearing inside.

  “She prefers the Caribbean at night,” Michael said with a chuckle as he brought the boat back to speed.

  I pulled my eyes away from the water to study the wound on Michael’s neck. “So, you and Cas,” I drawled. “Friends with benefits?”

  “Cassie has a lot of friends,” Michael answered with a casualness I could appreciate. He left it at that and I returned the favor by not prying further.

  As Anguilla appeared in our immediate horizon, Michael slow
ed the boat and steered us into Road Bay, slowing to a crawl through the azure waters as he navigated between anchored yachts lulling gently in the calm waters.

  Once he’d settled on a spot a fair distance from the other boats, Michael cut the engine. After the anchor had been released, Cassie and I helped lower a gray inflatable dinghy into the water. Michael stayed behind with his boat and a fishing magazine, propping his legs up in the chair I’d vacated.

  Cassie settled onto the bench in front of me. A wide-brimmed sunhat obscured half her face with the help of a large pair of sunglasses. Her arms and torso were covered in a creamy floral shawl with fringes hanging from the end.

  “You look like a celebrity,” I teased.

  Cassie glanced toward the beach and grimaced. “Yeah, well, I’d rather go under the radar with a vampire hunter trolling the islands.”

  “Vampires aren’t immune to accidents,” I said, dipping the oar into the liquid blue beneath our boat. When I lifted the oar, droplets of water shimmered like diamonds in the late afternoon sun. “What makes you think this is the work of a vampire hunter?”

  “Because this is the third vampire to die within the past two weeks. Bit suspicious, don’t you think?” I couldn’t make out Cassie’s expression beneath her hat and shades, but her frown deepened. “The first casualty took place in Barbados three weeks ago—a vamp named Lenny on holiday from the States. A week later, Antoine was murdered in Guadeloupe . . . and he was an expat living in the Caribbean. Now this guy, Ronald, on Anguilla,” Cassie said, shaking her head.

  “Did you know him?” I asked.

  She gave her head another shake. “He was in town visiting a friend of a friend of a friend.”

  “Ah, one of those,” I said, unable to prevent a grin.

  “Stan,” Cassie said. “We’re meeting him at the Beach Shack before his night shift at the inn begins.”

  “A blue-collar vamp,” I noted.

  “Making an honest living and look what happens to his guest.” Cassie scowled. The expression looked out of place on her usually sweet face. “Who knows who’s next? It’s like this hunter is toying with us. Island hopping. Watching us squirm. It’s sick.”

  With each stroke of the oar, we neared the beach. People sat reading or snoozing beneath great big beach umbrellas. They were gathered at tables in open-air cafes. It was the perfect picture of leisure.

  Cassie adjusted her shawl, draping as much of the wispy fabric as she could over her bare knees. “We have the right to live same as anyone, even if it’s longer than humans,” she muttered. “Even if it’s indefinitely. We didn’t break any laws. Nature made us this way. Fane!”

  “Hmm?” I didn’t realize I’d switched focus from Cassie to the impossibly white sand covering the beach. It looked absolutely unreal as though I was rowing toward a beach on another planet. Unlike Cassie, this scenery was all new to me. Its splendor was even more pronounced against the backdrop I’d left behind.

  I thought of Alaska again, replacing white sands with snow-covered mountains in my mind’s eye.

  “Fane,” Cassie said again.

  I answered with the names she’d told me. “Lenny, Antoine, and Ronald . . . what’s their story?”

  “I just told you.”

  “No, I mean, what did they do to get the attention of a vampire hunter? If that is what’s really at play here.”

  Cassie’s shawl slipped off her shoulders as she sat up. “You assume they are in the wrong?”

  “Vampires aren’t exactly known for being saints,” I said.

  Cassie pulled her shades down just far enough to glare at me over the rims. “That doesn’t automatically make them killers either.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Good. Glad we got that cleared up,” she said, pushing her sunglasses back up the bridge of her nose before readjusting her shawl. “Do me a favor and hear Stan out before you go condemning our kind.”

  A heaviness settled over my chest. Suddenly I was keen to reach the shoreline and escape the confines of the boat.

  Condemn my own kind? Cassie should have known me better than that. I’d always prided myself on having an open mind—a sense of balance and patience. Every story had more than one side, which was exactly why I’d made a point of asking what I did. I didn’t give away free passes just for being a vampire.

  The space inside the boat shrank, the only sound the dip and drip of the oar again and again until, at last, we reached the beach.

  I leapt out of the dinghy with an agility that seemed to startle Cassie. With quick speed, I pulled the front of the boat onto the sand and, before she could step out, I waded to Cassie’s side and held out my hand to help her out.

  Mama could rest easy in her grave knowing a century of living among Yanks hadn’t robbed me of the manners she’d instilled in me from a young age. When I thought of my kind, I didn’t think of other vampires. I thought of my family, a long line of Donados, back in Italy. Even though I couldn’t be with them, they were my kin and the people to whom my loyalty would always lay first and foremost without question.

  Vampires, on the other hand, were as random and varied as humans. If they did something nefarious, it wasn’t for me to interfere on their behalf.

  Cassie took my hand and squeezed it. “Sorry,” she said as she stepped out of the boat. “Didn’t mean to turn into a barracuda back there.”

  The moment she released my hand, I waved her apology away with a flick of my wrist and a toothy grin. “Vampire hunters don’t bode well for any of us,” I said. “I would like to know more.”

  Cassie nodded and smiled gratefully.

  “This place got any Red Rum?” I asked, nudging Cassie with my elbow as we approached the bar shadowed beneath the thatched roof of the Beach Shack.

  “No, but that reminds me. You’re invited to a yacht party tonight, and Joss, too, of course. There will be plenty of blood, rum, and hot ass,” she said in a teasing tone.

  I stared pointedly at Cassie’s ass. She laughed. “Hot human ass,” she emphasized, giving me a swat on my vamp ass, which I rather enjoyed.

  “Michael’s yacht?” I asked as we sat at a secluded corner table.

  “That little thing? Not a chance,” Cassie said, taking a seat and glancing at the yachts anchored in the bay. “Tonight’s party is on Bastian’s boat. He owns a luxury yacht that’s bigger than some of the islands around here. You’re in luck that he’s docked in St. Maarten this month. Bastian’s parties are legendary. He’s one of us, by the way.”

  “Is his name truly Bastian?” I asked with a smirk. “Or is it Bob?”

  Cassie snort laughed. “You’re one to ask, Fane.” Now that we were in the shade, she took off her sunglasses and hat and set them on the table.

  When a waiter in surfer shorts and a T-shirt ambled over, Cassie ordered a diet soda. I asked for sparkling water, holding off on the hard stuff until the party that night.

  As soon as the waiter walked away, a male in his early twenties slunk beneath the shade of the Beach Shack and stared in our direction. He wore a white baseball cap, the bill practically touching his pale chin.

  I nodded in his direction. “I take it that’s Stan.”

  “Never met him before. Let’s see,” Cassie said, waving the guy over. He ambled over slowly, head jerking from Cassie to me. When he’d come close enough, Cassie called out, “Stan?”

  He looked over his shoulder. About a third of the tables were occupied and he seemed to take each one into consideration before facing us again with a jerky nod.

  “Sit,” Cassie commanded, pointing to an empty chair beside her.

  Stan squeezed into the wood chair without pulling it back and slumped over the table. Once he had, Cassie smiled warmly as though oblivious to Stan’s sullen behavior.

  “This is Fane,” she said, eyes flicking across the table in my direction. “He’s here to help.”

  More here to hang out, but I kept that tidbit to myself. I let Cassie do the talking, not feelin
g particularly friendly toward white hat guy.

  Observing the less-than-friendly exchange between Stan and me, Cassie propped her elbows onto the table. “Let’s get right down to it,” she said. “Tell us everything you can leading up to your friend’s mysterious death.”

  Stan looked over his shoulder again. The waiter came over with our drinks, asking Stan if he wanted anything, to which Stan shook his head. Even after the waiter had walked away, Stan’s eyes shifted from side to side.

  “Ronald hadn’t even been here a week when it happened. I was working that night and we’d planned to meet up in the early hours, but after my shift he never showed. Later I found out he’d been killed.”

  “Read that was an accident,” I said, leaning one arm against the table.

  Stan scowled. “Ronald didn’t die scuba diving. He had no interest in water activities.”

  Cassie nodded her understanding while I smirked at Stan. He was way too easy to provoke, which made it all the more tempting to keep it up.

  “Did he tell you what he was doing that night?” Cassie asked, sounding inquisitive and intent on getting to the truth of the matter.

  Stan turned his attention to her. “He was just hanging out having a good time.”

  “Where did he hang out?” Cassie asked.

  “No one place. He hit up all the beach clubs. Like I said, just hanging out having a good time.”

  I leaned forward and stared Stan down despite the cap he had yet to remove or adjust. My fingers stretched across the table’s surface, each digit pointing toward Stan. “And by having a good time, I presume you mean in the form of female companionship,” I drawled.

  This comment annoyed Stan enough to get him to lift his head and give me a peek beneath the bill of his cap. Grayish-blue eyes pierced me from the ghost of a face, way too pale even for a vampire, especially one living in the Caribbean. He should have tried a spray-on tan at the very least. Albino vamp’s eyes were narrowed, lips pulled back in a silent snarl.

  Cassie smacked my shoulder. “Fane, don’t be obtuse. Of course, he was after female companionship. It’s what every guy’s after around here, unless they came with a fiancée or spouse and even then . . .” Cassie shrugged and took a languid sip of her diet soda.

 

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