The Valkyrie

by Valkyrie(Lit)

  Vampyre Productions:

  THE VALKYRIE

  by

  Mandy M. Roth

  © copyright May 2004, Mandy M. Roth

  Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright May 2004

  New Concepts Publishing

  5202 Humphreys Rd.

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  Dedication

  To my husband Shane:

  You’ve never once questioned what I do, and you’ve answered my questions about vampires with a smile on your face. There aren’t enough words to thank you for overwhelming show of support. I love you will have to suffice. Thank for all that you do, and for three beautiful little boys.

  Chapter 1

  "What do you want to eat tonight?" my roommate, Molly, yelled from the other side of the bathroom door. Her voice was so soft that getting it loud enough for me to hear over the blow dryer took some skill. I clicked it off and flipped my head back up. Black hair fell down my back, over my shoulders, and covered my face. I had to run my fingers through it all to be able to see. It was long now and in need of a cut, but it had been longer once. Five years ago, my hair had hung to the back of my knees, or so I’d been told.

  "Pizza or Chinese?" Molly pounded harder this time.

  "Pizza sounds good," I yelled back.

  I finished running the brush through my hair and gave one last quick check. I had debated putting on some light eye makeup, because after the last time Molly and I went out dancing I looked like I’d been through a war, or about to say "I do" to Frankenstein. Either way, eye makeup and dancing didn’t mix in my world.

  I don’t care what the manufacturers say, no mascara is run proof. I didn’t feel like playing tarantula eyes again tonight, so I opted for just lip gloss. Besides, I’d been blessed with turquoise eyes and thick dark black lashes. Most people who saw me asked where I purchased my contacts. I finally gave up trying to convince them that my eyes were really this color and just started making up names of fictitious contact manufactures. My favorite to date was still the Stickitinure Iris Company, or pronounced slower, stick it in your iris company.

  Molly pounded on the door again. "Valerie, I called down to Joey’s, he’s refusing to deliver to us," she said, on the verge of panic. She fell into her best impersonation of Joe, the Pizza shop guy’s, voice. "You wanna eat, you come on down here and kiss the cook, or if you’re feelin’ frisky you could do a little somethin’ else." I laughed. Molly had managed to get Joey down pretty good. "I can’t believe the nerve of that guy."

  I buttoned up my jeans and pulled the fitted cotton shirt over my head. "When are you going to stop trying to order from him?" I didn’t need to hear her answer, I knew why. She loved the attention Joey gave her. The two of them had been flirting with each other since I’d known her.

  Joey was a great single guy who’d gone so far as to send flowers to the hospital where Molly works, as a nurse, to apologize for her food being late once. In fact, the first time I’d ever met Molly she’d been carrying flowers for me from Joey. I didn’t know who the hell Joey was, but he’d heard Molly talking about me and wanted to pass along his well wishes. Since, apparently, nobody else did. It didn’t bother me any. My first few weeks in the hospital were a complete blur. It wasn’t until my third month that I caught on that the only people who visited me were hospital employees. No friends or family ever showed up to see me.

  The only information I had to go on came from Molly. She’d been in the emergency room when the ambulance brought me in. She told me about the terrible shape I’d been in when I’d arrived. To this day, my doctors tell me that it’s a miracle that I not only survived my injuries, but also show no signs of having ever sustained them.

  Nearly every bone in my body had been broken, and everyone thought for sure that brain damage was inevitable. After all, the police report said I was assaulted, left for dead in the center of the highway, and then struck by a car. The driver of the car had been convinced that he’d killed me, but I pulled through. It only took me four months to heal. Molly said it was impossible. She said that no one could heal from injuries like that. I guess she was wrong.

  Molly was bothered by my lack of visitors while in the hospital. The newspapers had splashed my story all over the headlines, but no one came forth with knowledge of my identity. I was little help. I couldn’t even remember how I’d gotten to the hospital.

  Molly was my only link to the events of the night I arrived in her care. She could only tell me that I’d been wearing a short skirt and a leather bra that was so soaked with blood she couldn’t be sure what color it had originally been.

  I can’t say that I was no help to the doctors. I knew my name, but that was it. They said that was common for someone who had sustained injuries as bad as mine. I had no choice but to accept their word.

  Molly and I had hit it off right from the start. She was shorter than me, which made her damn near microscopic. Being five foot five inches had me on the short end of the stick. Molly was at least two inches shorter. She was also very dainty. The most she’d ever weighed in her life had been one hundred pounds, which made my one hundred and fifteen pounds seem like a lot. Molly seemed to think my breasts alone weighed at least ten pounds. I couldn’t argue there. They were rather on the large side. Borrowing clothes was definitely out of the question. That may be why being roommates worked out so well.

  I had nowhere to go upon my release from the hospital, and Molly was desperate to get a bigger place. On one salary, she couldn’t afford to move out of the tiny apartment that she’d been sharing with six other nurses for over a year. I had no job, but money never seemed to be a problem for me. An anonymous donor, who read about me in the paper, set up a trust fund, so to speak, for me. It more than covered my hospital bills. The donor was very specific that this money was to be used to help me ‘start a new life’.

  "You about done in there?" Molly shouted.

  I slid my black sandals on and opened the bathroom door. Molly stood there wearing one of the shortest shirts known to man. If she bent over, I was sure that everyone around her would get a free peep show. Her top wasn’t much better. She had on a tiny white shirt that was unbuttoned. Her very black and lacy bra showed through. I shot her a look. She buttoned two buttons and stuck out her tongue. Away from work she dressed like a hooker and seemed proud of it.

  "You look easy," I said, smiling at her as I walked past. She gave a little snort and walked into the bathroom.

  "Yeah, and you look like you need to get laid." I heard her rumbling through my makeup bag. I didn’t care. She could have whatever she wanted. "Speaking of getting laid, have you talked to Dr. Sullivan lately?" She knew damn well that I had. She’d been the one to call me at work to tell me that I’d missed my appointment with him.

  "Grow up," I said, and headed out to the kitchen to grab some cash out of my cookie jar. I know, not very original, but it looked good in the movies. Molly came out of the bathroom with more cleavage than she’d gone in with. I had no doubt that two-ply tissue was her new best friend.

  "I’ll grow up, if you tell me what’s going on with you two," she yelled back. She seemed intent on making Dr. Sullivan and me an item. He was in his early thirties and handsome as hell, I’d give him that. But, he had seen me broken and bruised. He’d been one of the doctors who’d saved my life. I never felt comfortable enough around him to accept his offers of coffee or dinner. He and Molly were good friends so avoiding him was an issue.

  "Nothing is going on with us, and yeah I talked to him today. His receptionist sent me back to him as soon as I called. He read me the riot act about not coming in and then he had to go." I was shocked that he’d let me off the hook that easily. It wasn’t like Dr. Sullivan to let thi
ngs go. "You know, he’s normally got a mouthful to say to me."

  Molly’s light blue eyes lit up. "Well, hmm, maybe he’ll get a chance to talk with you more tonight." I glared at her. Blond and cute could get her far with the guys, but it wasn’t going to save her from me.

  "What the hell are you up to?"

  She gave me her best ‘who me?’ look, and I threw my hands in the air and gave up. There was no use fighting it. I was sure she’d arranged to meet with him later. At least she’d given me a heads up.

  Chapter 2

  "Valerie, I see the little vixen managed to get you out of the house tonight." Joey said from the other side of the brown counter. Joey easily weighed two-hundred pounds. He was a big boy that much was for sure. His shaved head and dark brown goatee only added to his ominous appearance. The twinkle in his brown eyes gave him away--he was a teddy bear. His gaze wandered to Molly and stayed there. I didn’t know why the two of them had never dated. They were obviously into each other.

  "Screw you, Joey!" Molly called out to him. He gave a nod and wink. It was plain to see that he was accepting her offer. Molly rolled her eyes and walked over to our usual table. We’d been coming into Joey’s pizza place at least three times a week since we’d moved down the street from it. I had a sneaky suspicion that Molly liked our house more when she found out it was close to Joey’s.

  Joey had been pretty cool. He’d even offered me a job in the restaurant. I had to turn him down. I was heading into my senior year at the local university and working for the admissions office part-time for extra cash. School had been hard to get into at first. No one had any records for me, so Dr. Sullivan and his coworkers banded together to put pressure on the university to let me in. The university had used every excuse in the world to keep me out.

  "What’s her age?" I remembered hearing the Dean of Admissions asking Dr. Sullivan. He couldn’t give him a definite number, but by their guess I was in my mid-twenties. Questions of my academic abilities followed closely behind that. The university insisted I take entrance exams. I apparently blew them out of the water because they stopped questioning me and let me enter. I’d been overloading myself with classes since I’d started. In the two short years that I’d been there, I’d managed to get enough credits to be considered a senior come fall. That was music to my ears.

  "Have you listened to a word I’ve said?" Molly’s voice brought me back. The sounds of the pizza place filled my ears. More and more lately, I’d noticed myself letting my thoughts trail away. It was part of the reason that Dr. Sullivan was so adamant that I keep seeing him. "Hello, Val?"

  "Sorry, no, I didn’t hear anything you said."

  "Well, there’s a shocker." Molly’s attention went to Joey as he brought our pizza out to our table. She fidgeted with her hair and tried to look uninterested. It didn’t work. Joey walked away and Molly continued where she’d left off. "Like I was trying to tell you, I read in the paper this morning and that a film crew from Vampyre Productions has been spotted around town."

  I just sat there looking at her. She was movie obsessed. Every time someone was foolish enough to challenge Molly to trivia about movies, they were annihilated. Her favorite genre was horror. I could watch just about anything else with her, but those did me in. I couldn’t sleep for weeks after the last one she’d brought home. Having a major movie filmed in our city was definitely the highlight of her year, especially since it was being made by one of her absolute favorite studios, Vampyre Productions.

  "Anyways, the paper’s speculating that the lead actor in the film is none other than Guytano Marsarius," she said with so much enthusiasm that I felt bad for drawing a blank, so I just stared at her. Her eyes bugged out at me. "You’re kidding right? You know the hot Italian dude, Guytano Marsarius." I shrugged my shoulders. This sent her into a dither. She ran down the list of his movies. None of them rang a bell. "I give up, if you’d watch some of my absolute favorite movies of all time, you’d recognize him."

  "Oh, you mean if I’d subject myself to the mindless scream flicks that you seem to never tire of, then, and only then I’d know the magic of his very name being mentioned." I flicked my hair back from my face and did the best catty girl performance that I could come up with. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had.

  "I heard that in honor of being chosen as a location for the Vampyre Productions new movie, Pete’s is going to have a movie marathon," she leaned forward and whispered to me. I was under the impression that she was concerned that if others heard this, they’d buy up all the tickets Pete’s Cinema was offering, and she’d miss out on it. I looked around at the crowded pizza place. Fat chance of that happening. "So, you wanna go with me?"

  I looked up at her. I hated letting Molly down again and again when it came to this kind of stuff. I had refused to attend the vampire’s convention that was held in the city last month. She’d ended up going with a friend of hers from work. The two of them looked more like ladies of the night than vampires. The fake teeth and overdone makeup had made me exceptionally pleased with myself for refusing to attend.

  "Mol ... I’ll think about it." I answered slowly. This surprised her. She let out a small squeal--effectively drawing the attention of everyone around us. I smiled and blushed. Our town was small, and most of the patrons at some point in time had been under Molly’s care. They nodded at her and gave their best polite smiles. None of them bothered giving me the same courtesy.

  Only a handful of people in Miskiwe had taken to me in the five years that I’d been a resident there. It had nothing to do with Molly, but everything to do with my mysterious arrival. The tiny town was within twenty minutes of the city. They had fought hard to maintain their small town independence and status. My story had brought more media attention to this tiny place than was wanted. Some longtime residents had banded together and ‘suggested’ that I seek another place to call home. This infuriated Molly. She looked for a house right in the center of town, and that’s how we’d ended up here.

  We sat awhile and talked together while finishing our pizza. Molly and Joey continued to joke with each other. At one point during our meal Molly suggested to Joey that he needed a woman’s touch around the pizza place. He had informed her that the position was open, if she was looking, and that he’d be interviewing sometime next week. I nudged her with my foot under the table. She rolled her eyes in an attempt to dismiss what he was saying as a joke. I knew that it was Joey’s roundabout way of asking Molly out.

  Molly and I headed out to go to The Raven, a kick-butt dance club in the city. We walked down the street to my car. As much as Molly hated to ride in it, hers was currently in the shop for a new battery, so she had little choice. She’d been on my back for years to buy a car that was reliable. I was growing fond of my Ford Fiesta. It was so tiny and white that it resembled a pregnant egg on a roller skate, but hey, it got me around town and was good on gas. I really couldn’t ask for more than that. Yes, I could have used the money in my trust fund to purchase a new car, but I hated to tap into it. I’d been forced to use it for medical bills already. I didn’t want to have to rely on it for anything else.

  Molly made the sign of the cross and said a little prayer before she got in. I ignored her. The last time she’d been reduced to riding in my car she’d shown up with a bike helmet on and a copy of her will. "Just in case," she said to me. I laughed so hard I cried, then I made her call Dr. Sullivan for a ride to work after that. I wasn’t taking any chances.

  I put the key in and the engine tried to roll over. Molly’s cell phone rang and startled us both. That telltale tune from the Addams Family played. I found it completely annoying; she found it adorable. She flipped it open and said hello. Her eyes flickered to me, and her voice dropped to a whisper. "No, I haven’t seen her." She did her best to avoid eye contact with me. I knew who was on the other end. I put my hand out for the phone. Molly gave me her best I’m sorry look and handed it over.

  "So, you’ve taken to harassing my friends now too?" I kn
ew my voice sounded harsh. I meant it to. I was tired of playing this game.

  "Nice to hear your voice too, sweetie."

  "What is it this time Dillon?" I asked. Normally, I would have just slammed the phone down on him, but I was feeling charitable this evening.

  "That’s a hell of a way to greet your fiancé," he said. I didn’t have to be in front of him to know what he was doing. It was after six, he was headed home from work, or at least I thought he was. I pictured him loosening his collar after he tossed his tie in the passenger seat. I had no doubt that his jacket had been shed the moment he entered the vehicle.

  "I’ll greet you any damn way I like, and you’re my ex-fiancé. Get it right," I said. I wondered if he was running his fingers through his chestnut brown hair. There wasn’t much to it anymore. I had convinced him to cut it close to his head. When I’d met him it was to his ears. It was nice if you were a male model, which I firmly believed Dillon could have been if he tried, but being a college professor called for something a little more professional, although I’m not sure who would pay to sit through one of Dillon’s lectures on demonology.

  Dillon and I were introduced a few weeks prior to my release from the hospital. He’d shown up with Detective Gonzales, who’d been assigned to my case. At first I had assumed that Dillon was another police officer. I’d been wrong, he was doing some research for a book he was writing. He loved to write paranormal mysteries. It was Molly who pointed out that men with Dillon’s kind of money didn’t generally make personal visits to victims of bizarre crimes. She was right. Dillon’s interests had been strictly personal. I enjoyed his company so I refused to let Molly chase him off.

  "I’ll ask you again Dillon, what do you want, and why the hell are you calling Molly?" I didn’t have to wait to hear his response. He was calling Molly because I’d been leaving my cell phone turned off. I was tired of the endless calls from him. He knew the stalking laws, and I’m sure he knew he was breaking them. We’d been over for almost eight months now. He wasn’t taking it well.