“It’s all right, sweetie. Just go back to sleep,” she called to him.
“That’s not dad… is it?” he asked.
“Brian, get out of here now, before I call the police,” she hissed.
The vampire gasped and dropped to his knees and clasped his hands together.
“Josephine,” he whispered.
“I mean it, Brian! Get… OUT!”
“My Josephine…” he got up and stepped into the room. Josephine covered her mouth and gawked at her dead father.
“My daughter… my beloved daughter! God had led me to you, damned wretch that I am! He still saw fit to let me find you and look at you one more time!”
Josephine was frozen in place, not sure whether to believe her eyes or not. Her father continued to speak.
“I have reflected over all the years I have lost with you, with your son. How much of a fool I had been after you went away with that poor excuse for a man you call Brian. All your letters… all your calls… how I ignored each and every one of them! I should have been there for you! I should have taken you in when you needed me the most! I was so stubborn and so angry. I felt as if you had abandoned me, when it was I who had abandoned you!”
All Josephine could do was slowly shake her head in absolute disbelief at what was happening right then. He continued.
“I know there’s nothing I can do to change the past, and I know there’s no future for us, for I am undead. My punishment for abandoning you, for leading a miserable life afterwards.” He looked into her hazel eyes and paused before speaking again. “I awaken on this night every year.”
Josephine lowered her hand from her mouth, the scene before her still too surreal and grisly to believe. “Dad,” she whispered, taking a tiny step towards him. “Dad… is that really you?”
He held his hand out to her. Ever so slowly, she put her warm hand in his taloned, icy one.
“I… I saw you buried. I saw you put into the ground. I saw them put dirt on your grave…”
“And yet I still walk once a year, cursed because of my imprudent ways.”
James stepped into the room, and let out a loud gasp. Josephine and her father pulled away, looking at him.
“You…” the vampire started, staring into another pair of hazel eyes.
The same eyes he peered into at the bistro.
“It’s the Angel of Death, Mom! The one I told you I saw!” He ran to the fireplace and grabbed a poker, swinging it wildly at the vampire. “You stay away from my mom! You’re not gonna kill her too!”
Josephine gasped at her father. “You… you’re the one James told me about? The one who killed everyone in the bistro? But… but why?”
James looked at his mom, confused. “You know him?”
Josephine was now stuck in a tight situation. She found it amazing she was able to calm her son down after he came home screaming hysterically about some Angel of Death killing everyone in the bistro, but this…
“James, this--this is your grandfather.” She tightened her grip on her son’s shoulders.
James lowered the poker, still gawking at the tattered, filthy, undead creature before him. “Grandpa’s an Angel of Death?” He looked at his mom in awe. “Are we angels too?”
“We all belong to God, sweetie. But your grandfather here is no angel.”
The vampire dropped to his knees again so he could get a closer look at his grandson, tears coming from his red eyes. “James…. James….” he kept whispering to himself, then swept him up in an embrace. “I’m so sorry, dear boy….I’m so, so sorry….”
James tried not to grimace at the stench emanating from his long dead grandfather. But then, he stood up, smiling at Josephine with pointed teeth.
“You’ve raised him so well on your own. I just wish I had been there to help you.”
“Just having you tell me that is enough,” she replied.
Gently, the vampire touched his daughter’s face, and she did her best not to flinch at his icy touch.
“Please release me, Josephine. Only you can do it. I’m tired. So, very, very tired. I have come to terms with my past, and I see your future will be without further worries. I need not haunt this world, or your life, anymore.”
She gave her father one last hug, despite the dried blood all over his coat. “I love you, Daddy.”
~ ~ * ~ ~
Josephine led him up to her attic, and sat a chair in the middle of the room, in front of a window that faced east. They talked long into the wee hours of the morning.
“I can’t believe you were that angry at me,” Josephine said. “All that time. Sometimes, I was sad at your non-replies, and sometimes I was angry. I just couldn’t figure out what I had done to make you so mad at me.”
The vampire sighed. “I realize it wasn’t you I was angry at… it was the fact you had grown up and had to live your own life. I wanted you to stay my little girl forever. My foolish pride was what stopped me from going to you when you needed help.” He sighed. “I just wish you had found a better man to share your life with.”
“It took me a long time to learn my lesson, but one thing’s for sure--I’m definitely not in a rush to find another,” she replied. “James is all I need.”
He paused. “Just… remember this ordeal, please. I wouldn’t want you following in my footsteps once James gets to be at that certain age when he wants to… leave the nest.”
Josephine gave a tiny grin. “I think I have it covered.”
Despite their long talk, he never confessed to having killed Brian. She’d hear about it on the news soon enough, and he’d be long gone.
The sky was a dull pink. The sun would be rising soon. Father and daughter looked at each other. Even under the black-veined, pasty pallor, and red eyes, she still saw the father she knew and remembered.
“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” she whispered as they held hands.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart. “
They embraced one more time before she rushed to the attic entrance, holding back her sobs as she closed the door.
The vampire sighed once more, and took out the photo of his daughter and grandson, both with bright smiles. Josephine came out strong in the end. That was all that mattered. And that gave him the sweet serenity and peace he yearned for during his undead years.
He stayed transfixed on their picture as the first rays of light pierced the sky, the warm, golden-orange glow filling the attic as he burst into flames, still smiling as he stared into the eyes of his beloved daughter.
It was the best Christmas present he had ever received.
About The Author
Dark Paranormal Romance/Horror author Cinsearae S. is the creator of Diary of a Vampire Stripper, Top 10 Finisher in the Predators & Editors 2012 Readers Polls. A digital artist, jewelry designer, and still-photographer, she is also editor/publisher of award-winning, Dark GothicResurrected Magazine. She received the Author's Site of Excellence Award in 2007 from Predators & Editors, and is a cover artist for Damnation Books and independent authors. Her website won a Golden Horror Award from Horrorfind.com. Shop owner of Mistress Rae’s Decadent Designs on Etsy.com, (Search: MistressRae13) she specializes in Steampunk, Halloween, Victorian and Gothic-inspired jewelry, accessories, creepy dolls, anthropomorphic oddities, and more. Her store won the 2012 Fright Times Award for "Best Horror Collectible," and was recently featured on WFMZ.com (Channel 69 in Allentown, PA). An avid fan of “old school” horror movies and their villains (Freddy, Jason, Michael, Pinhead) she is also a big Vincent Price fan. Halloween is her favorite time of the year, and she keeps her house decorated year round. She has always been drawn to the flipside of life -- the supernatural, odd, bizarre, Gothic and “darkly beautiful” always being an inspiration to her. She lives with her husband and two rat terriers, aptly named Hades and Chaos. You can also find her on Youtube, Facebook, Pinterest and Twitter.
[email protected]
http://BloodTouch.webs.com
MORE THAN FRIENDS
(a short story)
By
Terri Reid
Chapter One
The wooden door opened slowly, the creaking hinges echoing in the quiet of the night. Jasper Jade Victory, JJ to her friends, entered the office level of the precinct hesitantly. Her usual confident stride was shortened and her face was set in a regretful, but resigned look. She closed the door behind her and flicked the lock; she did not want to be disturbed.
The streetlights from Irving Park Road that ran in front of the police station shone enough light through the large double-hung windows that she didn’t need to turn on the overhead fluorescents. Even though it was ten o’clock, traffic on one of Chicago’s main streets was still constant and the thrum of passing cars and trucks was a comforting sound that she welcomed.
Pushing back her desk chair, she slipped her purse over the back and sat down, clicking the power button on her computer. She tapped her manicured fingers lightly over the worn wooden desktop while she waited for the computer to go through its booting up regime.
Catching a glimpse of the dark red nail polish, she smiled slightly. The guys in the precinct always gave her a hard time about her nails. But, she figured if she was going to have to dress in a boring uniform every day, wear regulation shoes, and keep her hair in a neat bun, the least she could do for her feminine side was get her nails done. Besides, those long, tough nails had saved her hide more than once.
The login screen finally appeared on the monitor and JJ typed in her password. In an instant, her desktop page appeared. She maneuvered the mouse across the screen and, with a deep breath, clicked on the icon that opened her social networking page. She closed her eyes briefly when she saw that her Friend Request icon had the number one next to it, offering a quick prayer. Please don’t let it happen again.
He watched her close her eyes, saw the brief flash of pain, and nearly stepped out of the shadows that hid him. Only moments before he had been charmed by her impatient nail tapping, wondering idly how those nails would feel sliding across his bare chest. How her lips would feel pressed against his own. How her breath would feel, hot and impatient against his face.
But now, the instant attraction he had felt for the woman was put to the side. Now there was a more troubling issue to be resolved. What was she viewing that was causing her to stare into her computer screen with such dread?
She picked up her desk phone and dialed a number. He moved forward on the windowsill, careful to stay in darkness, to listen to the conversation.
“Roy, there’s another one,” she said. “No, I don’t think it’s a prank. I think someone is killing these women.”
She ran her hand through her hair in frustration. “Yes,” she sighed impatiently into the phone. “No, sir, I know we haven’t found any bodies and there have been no missing persons. But, dammit, these women are dead.”
Closing her eyes again, she nodded. “Yes, sir,” she said with resignation. “I’ll write a report up and file it away as a prank. Thank you, sir.”
She hung up the phone and then whipped a plastic pencil holder against the wall, the impact sending several dozen smaller pieces into the air. “Like hell it’s a prank,” she yelled into the empty room. “And I’m not going to be told to be a good little girl and just ignore it.”
Determination flashing in her eyes, she stood, grabbed her purse, and stormed out of the office, the crash of the wooden store reverberating behind her.
Once she was gone, it was a matter of moments for him to open the window and slide into the room. His feet made no sound on the tile floor and his form cast no shadow from the streetlights. He hurried to the desk she had just vacated and moved the mouse to refresh her screen. A woman’s photo was staring up at him in the midst of a newly created social networking page. The composition of the photo seemed odd; the woman was reclining on a couch, her head angled back against the arm with her eyes were wide open, staring straight up into the camera. They looked sightless, he thought, like the eyes of the…
Before the thought could be completed, he saw the small puncture wounds at the base of her neck and knew…she was not only dead, she was undead.
Clicking back on the page, he accessed JJ’s home page and clicked on Friend Requests. There were six unconfirmed requests. He clicked on each one and the same pattern appeared; a brand new page with one photo, the victim of a vampire. Six women killed in the space of two weeks and all their photos sent to JJ. What the hell was going on?
He clicked back to the page he originally saw and studied it carefully. There was something familiar about that couch. Where had he seen it?
Stepping away from the computer, he hurried back to the open window and slipped out. He could worry about the couch later. Now he needed to follow JJ and make sure she didn’t run into the vampire who was luring her into a trap. He knew all about prey and traps, because he, Lucian Andruska, was a vampire himself.
Chapter Two
Grabbing her keys from her pocket, she hurried through the parking lot to her car. She could access her social networking page from home and study the photos without worrying about her Captain looking over her shoulder and reminding her it was just a prank. Her shoes slapped softly against the pavement of the parking lot as she moved forward. With her shadow flitting from car to car, a brisk autumn wind stirred up a pile of dried leaves and pushed them forward to swirl around her feet. The noise was just loud enough that she didn’t hear the soft whisper of wings fluttering behind her.
Pressing the auto unlock button, she stepped forward to grab hold of the door handle when the hairs on the back of her neck rose and she knew someone was behind her. Her hand secreted on the handle of her service revolver, she whirled, ready to fight.
“Whoa there,” the man said, stepping back into the shadows protectively. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She glanced around quickly and then met his eyes. “Where did you come from?” she asked.
“Originally or recently?” he asked, the touch of irony in his deep voice annoying her.
“Recently,” she growled.
He moved toward her into the glow of a streetlight and she nearly gasped aloud. As it was, her body reacted with a primitive awakening that surprised and even frightened her.
He bit back a smile. He could hear the blood throbbing quickly through her veins, could feel the rise in her body temperature and could smell the sweet pheromones her body was producing to lure him even closer. She was partially aroused by him, but fighting it. And he was charmed by her efforts.
“I was a few cars down,” he said, pointing to a car parked near hers. “I dropped my keys and I was bending over, so I could understand how you might have missed me when you walked to your car. I just came over to make sure you were safe.”
Safe. She had never felt so unsafe in her life.
“I’m fine,” she said, relieved that the words came out clipped and firm.
“Excellent,” he replied, with a full smile. “And now, perhaps we could find a quiet place where I could answer your other question.”
Eyes narrowed, she shook her head. “Other question?”
He stepped even closer and she held her ground. He was not going to intimidate her.
Reaching forward, he ran a finger down the side of her face and she shivered involuntarily and swallowed slowly. “Where I came from,” he whispered, his breath hot on her cheek, “Originally.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath and stepped back, away from him. “Listen,” she replied, her voice uneven. “I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing. But I am not a hooker, I’m a police officer. I’m a detective. So unless you want to spend a little time in a cooling cell, I would suggest you step away and take your advances elsewhere.”
His lips lifted in a half smile, but he didn’t move back. “I know you’re not a hooker, Detective Victory,” he said, meeting her eyes. “And the only proposition I have for you right now is an offer to help you track down the person who is
killing those women who have requested to be your friend.”
“What the…” Her hand went to her gun, but he stepped even closer and laid his hand over hers, blocking her attempt. Her back was pressed against the side of her car and her hand was caught between her body and his. And the heat coursing through her veins was making her feel lightheaded.
“I’m not here to harm you,” he whispered, keeping an eye out for other police officers who might be coming off shift. “I can help. I think I know why you haven’t been able to find the bodies.”
Shaking her head, she tried to move out of his grasp. “No, I don’t need your help,” she stammered softly. “Now let me go before I scream and you have to deal with an entire precinct of police officers.”
Bending his head, he drew his mouth along the underside of her jaw line and a bolt of heat impaled her core, turning her legs to rubber. She collapsed against the side of her car and he pressed his body fully against hers.
“Did you drug me?” she murmured, trying to fight the sexual haze that was overwhelming her. “I feel…”
He slid his hands up the sides of her body, slowly, caressing every curve, the power of passion clouding his own judgment. “You feel delightful,” he breathed, his mouth hovering just inches over hers. “You feel exactly the way I’ve dreamt you’d feel.”
“Dreamt?” she cried softly, her voice shaking with an undertone of fear.
He looked into her eyes, saw the tears pooling in them, and cursed himself. He could take her; his thrall had broken down all of her natural defenses. But even under the strength of his spell, her unconscious mind had fought back, causing tears to flow in protest. He fought with himself. He could have her; he had desired her for so long. But, a calmer voice reasoned, would he really be satisfied with taking her this way or did he want the whole woman?
He finally shook his head, clearing the passion and stepped away from her, leaving her trembling and confused.
Vampires Romance to Rippers an Anthology of Tasty Stories Page 19