In the supernatural world anything was possible.
“Danny, are you here?”
I braced myself for his response, not knowing what it might be this time. Another chilly sensation touched my shoulder, and I knew it was him communicating with me.
Danny was still here, and he was trying to tell me so.
Tears flowed from my eyes. He was here. He was safe. Even though I couldn’t see him, he was still with me in spirit form. While I’d never been a firm believer in ghosts and the other side, I’d always imagined there was something after death. It had always seemed too final otherwise.
Now I had a proof. I took comfort in this.
“I’m going to figure out what happened to you. I don’t believe for a second you killed yourself. You wouldn’t do something that stupid,” I whispered, hoping he could hear me. “I know you wouldn’t.”
I waited for him to touch me again, to acknowledge he’d heard me and that he understood what I’d said, but he didn’t. Hollowness rippled through me, shredding any sense of relief I’d felt moments before.
While Danny might be here in spirit form, it still wasn’t physical form, and there was a big difference.
I lay back down and pulled the blanket up to my chin. After a few moments, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to process what I’d experienced as best I could. Seconds before drifting off to sleep, I found myself wondering if I would wake to find I’d imagined everything.
“Danny, if you really are here, please hang around until I wake up,” I muttered as exhaustion forced my eyes closed.
Three
Mason
While blood was my main form of sustenance, I still craved human food. It was something I attributed to being a creature of habit. Coffee ranked high on my list of cravings as well. It was still something I couldn’t go without in the morning. Urban Grind had the best coffee in town.
The place was run by a guy named Loran. Even though I’d lived in Willow Harbor for a while, I still hadn’t determined what exactly he was. All I knew was he was always there and in a chipper mood. I liked the guy, but knew I’d like him more if I knew what he was. Not knowing left me uneasy each time I was in his presence.
I scooped my wallet and sunglasses off my kitchen counter and left my apartment without bothering to lock the door behind me. It wasn’t that bad shit never happened in Willow Harbor; it was that I’d only be gone for a few minutes. Besides, there were only five apartments in the complex. Size was a major factor. There wasn’t much space to convert into apartments above the strip of shops on this side of town. Out of the five apartments, only two were occupied besides mine. One had been occupied by Claire’s brother, Danny, and the other by a dark-haired girl who seemed to hold more secrets than I did.
In fact, I could count the things I knew about the girl on one hand. Her name was Lena, which I only knew because some of her mail once came to my box by accident. She lived in apartment four, had dark hair, was some sort of shifter, and kept to herself. A lot.
That was all I knew about her.
I headed for the stairway that led down to the sidewalk outside as the door to Danny’s apartment opened. My gaze drifted toward it. I’d heard Claire crying last night. The sounds had broken me. There were also a few times when I thought I’d heard her speaking to someone as well. I wasn’t sure if she was praying or talking to herself. Heck, maybe she’d been talking to her deceased brother or having a damn nightmare. I didn’t know for sure which was the case, but I did know I’d wanted to check on her more than once. I’d refrained, of course. It would be weird if I’d acted on the urge. We didn’t know each other well enough for it not to seem creepy.
“Morning. Did you sleep well last night?” I asked once she made eye contact. I already knew what her answer would be but couldn’t help asking anyway.
“Not really,” she said in a sleepy voice as she shook her head. “But I’m sure you already knew that.”
A tingling sensation swept across the back of my neck, and I reached out to rub it away. “Yeah, I sort of did. It sounded like you were having a bad dream at one point.”
Claire pulled her long hair into a messy bun on the top of her head and secured it with a hair tie from her wrist. “I did have a nightmare or two, but I’m okay. Just tired.” She yawned. “I need a pick-me-up.”
I nodded, not knowing what else to say. Awkward silences weren’t my thing.
“You headed to Urban Grind?” I asked, hoping she’d say yes. If coffee would bring her any joy or comfort, I wanted to be the one to give it to her.
“Oh yeah. Everyone knows Loran has the best coffee in town.” She maneuvered past me and started down the stairs. Her coconut scent invaded my nostrils, and again I felt my insides come to life.
Being around Claire made me feel whole again. She made me forget what I’d become.
“Besides, I need to see if he’s hiring,” she added, her soft voice echoing off the narrow walls of the stairs.
I followed after her. “Oh. You’re looking for a job?”
“Generally, that’s what someone does when they quit their previous job. Unless they’ve got a shit ton of money stashed somewhere, which I don’t.”
“Well, yeah, but I thought being back home was temporary.”
She shook her head and glanced over her shoulder at me as she descended the stairs. Her eyes locked with mine. The passion behind her stare sent an electric jolt straight to my groin and fired every nerve ending inside of me to life. “I told you I planned on finding out what happened to my brother. He didn’t kill himself, Mason. I know he didn’t.” She pushed the glass door leading out to the streets open and stepped into the sunlight.
The morning sun hit my skin, warming it and blinding me all at once. I knocked my sunglasses down to protect my eyes from the harsh light and fell into step beside Claire.
“Oh, sorry. I guess I should’ve prepared you before I pushed the door open. I forgot what you are for a second,” Claire said as she stared at me. I could feel her eyes, but I didn’t risk a glance at her. The way she’d said what you are had sucker-punched me in the gut. “You know, I’ve never thought to ask how vampires can walk in daylight. Everything in books says it’s impossible, at least in fiction books.”
“Guess that’s why you shouldn’t believe everything you read.” My tone was harsher than I liked, but it was unavoidable. I didn’t enjoy talking about what I’d become any more than I enjoyed being it.
“So…does it bother you?” she pressed. “The sunlight I mean?” Curiosity etched her words. I would normally find it cute, if the topic were different.
I remained silent as we continued toward Urban Grind, wondering how I could change the subject without sounding like a complete ass.
“It doesn’t tickle, but it doesn’t hurt either.” I paused, struggling to think of a better way to explain what sunlight felt like so she would drop the subject altogether. “It’s just…uncomfortable.” There was no better word to describe it.
“But it hurts your eyes, right? Like really hurts them? That’s why you wear sunglasses?”
What was with all the questions? This was the most we’d ever talked. I should be happy about that, but all I wanted was for her to drop the subject.
“Claire, is that you?” a familiar voice called.
Mrs. Ackerman.
She was an old lady who walked her grotesque-looking pug each morning up and down the sidewalk in front of the Main Street shops my apartment was above. I wasn’t sure if she lived nearby or worked in one of the shops. It might also be that this stretch of town happened to be her favorite place to walk Pugsley because it was right in the thicket of things. Either way, the old woman said hello to me every morning on my way to Urban Grind. She was nice, but the poor lady had to be colorblind. The outfits she left the house in never matched, and she always wore a gaudy, oversized hat. Today’s hat had colorful feathers poking out of its rim. Same as with Loran, the guy who ran Urban Grind, I had no clue what she w
as. I’d been able to pinpoint she wasn’t human, though. She was a shifter of some sort. Her scent was musky like all the others I’d met since being turned.
“Hi, yeah it’s me. How are you today, Mrs. Ackerman?” Claire took hold of the old woman’s outstretched hand and patted it in a sweet gesture that seemed extremely southern.
“I’m old, nothing new, darlin’. The question is, how are you? You and your daddy holdin’ up okay?” Mrs. Ackerman squeezed Claire’s hand as sympathy pooled through her features. Something about her eyes seemed off. They were fixed on Claire, but they didn’t seem focused. It was as though she was looking right through her.
It wasn’t the first time I’d wondered if the old lady was blind, or at least on the verge of losing her sight.
“We’re hanging in there.” Claire sighed.
“Bless your heart, you sound absolutely horrible. I swear to you, the moment I heard about your sweet brother I nearly fell apart.” Mrs. Ackerman’s hand came to rest over her heart in a dramatic gesture. “I can’t even imagine what you and that daddy of yours must be goin’ through. I’m so sorry, sugar. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your daddy.”
“Thank you, that means a lot to us. I’ll be sure and let Dad know.”
The old woman smoothed her wrinkly hand over Claire’s and patted it a few times before releasing her grip. “You do that, dear.”
“I will, thank you. Have a good day, Mrs. Ackerman,” Claire said as she maneuvered around Pugsley, patting him on the head as she went. The dog didn’t pay her any attention. He continued to lick his private parts while sitting on the sidewalk. However, he noticed when I passed him. He released a low snarl and glared at me.
“Better get that hunger of yours under control, boy,” Mrs. Ackerman said, her tongue making a tisking noise. “We don’t take kindly to your kind losin’ control in this town.”
My lips clamped shut. No one had ever called me out that way before. I’d never heard Mrs. Ackerman use such a harsh tone with anyone before either. She was always so good-natured and kind, albeit flaky, but never harsh. Even when she was saying something slightly cruel to anyone she always tacked on bless your heart to take the sting out of it. She was a true southern bell.
Claire grabbed my arm and tugged me toward Urban Grind. Once there was a good distance between us and Mrs. Ackerman, she leaned in and whispered, “Don’t look so distraught, and don’t take what she said personally.”
“What do you mean? The old lady basically told me this town doesn’t like my kind,” I said in my best Mrs. Ackerman imitation.
I wasn’t the only vampire living in Willow Harbor. There were a few of us—heck, some even ran the Health Clinic—but I didn’t associate with any of them. I didn’t associate with anyone. I preferred to keep to myself.
Claire giggled. “No, I was standing right there. She said we don’t take kindly to your kind losin’ control,” Claire corrected me in a spot-on impression of the old woman. “There’s a difference, Mason. Especially when you know Mrs. Ackerman’s story. Her husband was killed by a vampire who’d gone dark. She gets leery around any vampire who seems to be not completely fulfilled in the hunger department because of it.”
“A vampire who’d gone dark?”
I ignored the fact that Mrs. Ackerman could somehow tell I wasn’t completely fulfilled. I ignore Claire’s hand wrapped around my forearm. However, I couldn’t ignore she’d used the term vampire who’d gone dark.
What did that even mean?
“You don’t know much about your kind, do you?” she asked.
“Not really, no.”
“Didn’t your maker sit you down and give you the talk?” She grinned as she released my arm.
“Nope. I wasn’t exactly planned.” Understatement of the year.
My maker had been a young female vampire consumed with what I now knew to be bloodlust. An image of her long red hair and solid black eyes from the night she’d attacked me flashed through my mind, causing my muscles to become tense. Aurora had been a monster. It was an accident her blood had entered me, turning me into what I was now. I wasn’t supposed to live through that night. She hadn’t intended there to be any survivors.
“Oh,” Claire muttered as her eyes turned soft.
I tried to wipe away any emotion from my face as I reached for the door to Urban Grind. “Everything I know about what I am I taught myself.”
I held the door open for her and motioned she step inside first.
“You’ve done a good job. I mean, hey, you’re still alive.”
“Alive,” I scoffed. “Yeah, sure.”
I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. Not with her. Not with anyone. It was too damn depressing.
I took my sunglasses off and fell in line behind a woman dressed in a blue. Claire stood beside me. Neither of us said a word until we reached the counter. Loran stood behind it dressed in his usual vest and weird cap. He looked like something straight off the streets of Paris, not a little coffee shop inside the tiny town of Willow Harbor.
“Good morning,” Loran greeted us in a chipper voice. His eyes shifted to me. “What can I get you today? Your usual?”
“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.” I motioned to Claire. “I’ll also pay for whatever she’s having.”
“Ah, Miss Meyers.” Loran’s eyes grew soft as he took her in. “My thoughts are with you and your father during this trying time. Danny was a brilliant young man.”
Claire swallowed hard and nodded. “Thank you.”
I wondered if it ever got easier being blindsided by others’ incessant need to say those words each time they saw you.
“What can I make you this morning?” Loran asked Claire.
“I’ll take one of those vanilla cappuccino things you always used to make me.”
“Coming right up.” He winked.
The second he stepped away from the counter to make our beverages, Claire shifted to look at me.
“You don’t have to pay for mine,” she insisted as she crammed her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.
“I know, but I want to.”
An awkward silence built between us that had me wishing for an interruption.
“Okay, thanks.” She smiled. It was small, but it was still a smile I’d caused to grace her beautiful face nonetheless.
Loran returned with our coffees. I paid him, and we headed for the exit. We’d nearly made it out of the place when a chick with red hair yelled out to Claire. She wore a tight pink cashmere sweater, black leggings, and shiny black stiletto boots that hit above her knees. She was taller than me due to her boots added height, and it was clear from one look at her face she was immediately upset at the sight of Claire.
“Claire! Oh my gosh!” She reached out and pulled Claire into a hug, squeezing the breath out of her in the process. “I just…I just can’t even believe Danny is gone. I haven’t stopped crying since I found out. He was such a good guy, you know?”
“Hi, Cherry. Yeah, I know,” Claire muttered as she patted Cherry on the back. I wasn’t sure who Cherry was, but she didn’t seem like someone Claire was happy to see. “What are you doing here? I thought you left Willow Harbor.”
“I did,” Cherry said as she released her grip on Claire. She took a step back and gave her a once-over. “Oh, girl. You’re really taking this hard.”
“My brother died. How else am I supposed to take it?” Claire deadpanned.
“I know, and I am so sorry for your loss. He will be missed dearly.” Her hand came out to squeeze Claire’s shoulder. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you or your dad.”
“All right, I will. Thanks.” Claire flashed her one of the fakest smiles I’d ever seen her give and lifted her cup of coffee in the air. “I should probably get going. I’m supposed to meet with my dad this morning to go over a few things.”
“Oh. Of course. Don’t let me keep you. Either of you.” Cherry’s eyes drifted to me. Something ignited in their dep
ths I couldn’t name, but it put me on edge. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Cherry, Cherry Hardegree.” She stuck her hand out for me to shake.
“Mason Danver.” I gripped her hand and noticed when she flinched at my touch. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Warmth never stayed with me long. Only right after a feeding.
“He moved here after you left town,” Claire informed Cherry. “Look, I hate to cut this short and seem rude, but we really have to go. Mason is helping me with something.”
“I thought you said you had to help your father with a few things,” Cherry asked in a skeptical tone with her eyes still fixated on me.
“I do, and Mason was coming to help as well,” Claire said, giving Cherry one of the worst go-to-hell looks I’d ever seen.
Cherry released her grip on me and flashed a white gleaming smile my way. “Right, well. It was nice to meet you, Mason. I’m sure we’ll see one another around. Maybe next time you won’t be so rushed to get somewhere else.”
“Yeah. Nice meeting you, too.” I took a sip from my scalding coffee. It burned my tongue, but at least the gesture signified an end to our conversation and allowed Claire and me to walk away.
“See you around, Cherry,” Claire said as she pushed the door open and stepped outside.
I put my sunglasses back on to shield my eyes from the sun’s brightness and took another sip of my coffee. My tongue was already burnt from the first, so this one numbed it even more.
“You didn’t get an application like you wanted,” I said remembering what she’d been going for in the first place. “Do you want to go back?”
“No.” Her tone was clipped.
“Okay.”
Silence built between us. It was awkward and tense.
“She was nice,” I said to break it. Claire flashed me the same go-to-hell look she’d given Cherry. “What? She was.”
“You’re new to Willow Harbor so I’ll let that slide just this once. Cherry Hardegree is not nice. She’s the exact opposite of nice. Don’t let her sweet smile and southern accent suck you in, because that’s exactly what it’ll do. It’s what she’s made to do.”
Vampire’s Descent: Willow Harbor - Book Two Page 3