“And when would you like us to visit these individuals?” Saul asked.
“Not immediately. You should enjoy the rest of your vacation. And there is one other thing, Saul. It is not something that we chose to tell you when we visited your cabin four days ago because we did not want you to feel that we were using it as bait. But now that you are assisting The Guard, you are allowed certain privileges—and that includes access to information that other supernatural entities are not privy to.”
“Such as?” Saul asked in a suspicious tone.
“Well…all of the questions you have regarding your father’s death, for instance. The Guard has always known the hows and the whys behind it. There is more there than you think. And after you have proven yourself loyal to us, we will be glad to share it with you.”
Saul was quiet for a moment before nodding. A smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Thank you, Magdeline. We will be returning to Red Creek in two days. Feel free to visit us then and give me the full details of our first job.”
“Gladly. Now,” she said, eyeing both of their naked bodies with much appreciation. “Enjoy the rest of your vacation. Enjoy each other.”
The naked form of Magdeline evaporated much like the fog that had escorted The Guard into Saul’s yard four days earlier. Saul stared at the empty space that had held the beautiful vampire, thinking about the future and the possibility of finally understanding what had happened to his father.
“Hey,” Nikki said from behind. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself into his back. Her fingers wandered down his chest in a slow trail.
“Yeah?”
“You heard the woman. Let’s enjoy each other.”
Saul turned to her, laid her down, and they did exactly that until the sun came up.
END OF BOOK II
VEILED - BOOK THREE
GATHERING SHADOWS
Copyright © Laudanum House, LLC.
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Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
END OF BOOK I
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
END OF BOOK II
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
END OF BOOK IV
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
END OF BOOK V
VEILED - BOOK SIX
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
1
Sheriff Gary Morel was having one hell of a year.
In March, his family doctor had warned him about his cholesterol and scolded him for his diet—a diet that consisted largely of bacon, whiskey, and coffee laced with cream. His blood pressure was sketchy and his heart wasn’t exactly in the best shape. Never one for indulging in what doctors thought, Gary had left that appointment and promptly stopped by a fast food joint where he wolfed down the greasiest, most satisfying burger he had ever eaten.
After, Gary had gone back to work where one of the weirdest cases he’d ever encountered kept repeating itself like the movie Groundhog Day. Something had been killing Deke Goode’s cows on a regular basis and from what Gary and the Red Creek game warden could tell, it was a very unusual predator. Speculation ran rampant and the game warden had even suggested that a black bear had crept into Red Creek. It was a plausible enough hypothesis; black bears had been emerging from the mountains and into their region for the last few years.
Still, it seemed too easy to Gary—a solution that felt like giving up.
Gary had a strange feeling about the whole thing. The lack of any solid leads almost tempted him to think that something preternatural was afoot. The very fact that he was considering such idiotic things had pushed the Sheriff into delving deeper into the case, to the point where it had almost become an obsession. For all of that, he had failed to get to the bottom of it.
Five weeks later, Gary had a major heart attack. When his doctor came to see him in the hospital, he’d looked disappointed that Gary had ignored his advice. Gary had been too pissed off at having to miss work to care much about the doctor's droning reprimands.
After that, Gary was forced to hand the reins of the police force over to Kara Humphrey, a decision that did not go over well with the rest of the PD. Kara was well-liked around the town and one of the best deputies on his team but even so, female officers were few and far-between in the area. Red Creek was definitely a Southern town that clung tightly to its roots; men still had issues taking orders from women.
Still, from what Gary could gather, Kara had handled the mysterious events which had befallen Red Creek in his absence extremely well. Forget the slaughtered cows, the woman had had to deal with gruesome murders of the like Gary himself had never seen. Hell, Kara had handled the whole situation much better than he could have ever hoped to. When Gary had come back to working full-time after his recovery four weeks later, he had demanded that she take a paid week of vacation.
Kara did it – not without some argument—and when she came back, things were very much the same as they were before Gary had been forced to take a month off. Kara was obviously pleased to have been relieved of her duties as Sheriff. Still, she seemed distant somehow, particularly with Gary - as if she resented him slightly for transferring the weight of it all onto her. The Sheriff took upon handling bloodier cases himself, deciding to keep Kara away from violence as much as he could. It was the least he could do.
Red Creek was damn near dull most of the time. Still, the craziness that had wreaked havoc upon the city seemed to linger in people’s imaginations.
Sheriff Morel did not tell Kara about the call he was currently headed out to answer. He told a few of the boys back at the station—he called them over the radio less than ten minutes ago—but kept Kara out of the loop. It was one of those cases, the ones he had decided to keep away from his Deputy for the time being.
It was dusk when he pulled his car onto a small dirt track that led deep into the Red Creek woods. This particular road came out into a large field that gave an open view of the railroad tracks that shot through Red Creek for about a half mile. The field was overgrown with weeds covered in dirt and dust.
Gary hated to even think about this field. It was one of the few hushed secrets of Red Creek. It was a blemish on his town that he’d rather forget altogether. The entire town did just that: Overlooked it, pretending it wasn’t there. No one tried to clean up the mess. When the field was mentioned, usually it was by old-timers that loved to tell stories or scraggly teenagers that were mesmerized by the uglier things in life.
The place had been dubbed Filth Camp.
It was easy to see why. It was an area where time stood still, like one of those rail yards from older movies. Hobos and winos came here to sleep, drink and even die. Sad to say, but the locales in those movies looked considerably more glamorous than Red Creek’s Filth Camp.
Morel parked the car and stepped out into the field. A woman had called him about half an hour ago, her voice high with panic. She had sounded young and semi-hysterical, and the Sheriff had been unable to calm her enough to reveal many details. Nonetheless, Morel thought he knew what had happened. Whenever stories about teens and the Filth Camp came up, they usually revolved around one or two very specific topics: sex or drugs.
Morel assumed that some horny teenaged couple had come up here after school to either have sex or get high. This was nothing new—the braver couples did this from time to time, knowing that Filth Camp was basically invisible on the police radar because no one wanted to deal with the place.
But this couple found more than they bargained for in their little excursion: A dead body, to be precise. This is what the woman had called to report. A dead body…only it was sort of walking around. It made Morel wonder just how much of “The Walking Dead” this girl had seen. Still, the terror in her voice and the mystery surrounding the recent proceedings in Red Creek had been enough to bring the Sheriff around for a look at the place.
Morel saw nothing right away. He glanced over to the railroad tracks and saw nothing there, either. With a sigh, he stepped deeper into the field, trying not to get his feet dirty; dog shit and other such waste was abundant.
Empty liquor bottles were strewn through the thick weeds like some sort of sad Easter egg hunt. Morel found indentations in the weeds throughout the field, telltale signs that people had slept there recently. As he made his way deeper into Filth Camp, he saw towels and ratty blankets obviously used as covers. Torn paper bags, fast food wrappers, empty bags of potato chips, and beer cans were scattered all over.
And then, about halfway between his car and the train tracks, he saw the first traces of blood. Red speckled the weeds for a few feet and then got more pronounced. As Morel passed the first few stained blades of tall grass and weeds, he started to hear flies buzzing. He looked ahead and saw them swarming around a patch of weeds that had been pressed down. Their buzzing sounded far too loud in the expanse of Filth Camp’s empty field. Morel’s hand went to his service weapon. He drew it slowly, his eyes not leaving the place in the grass where he was now certain he would find a dead body. He suddenly wished he had asked Kara to come along on this one. He didn’t like being out here alone. Not at all. He felt his heart starting to accelerate and the thought of having another attack out here made his heart pound even harder.
He looked back to his car, briefly debating whether he should call for back-up, but his curiosity got the better of him.
He took four more steps into the weeds. That is when he saw the overweight man lying in the grass. His eyes were open and glassy, staring up at the sky. His chest was covered in blood and from what Morel could tell, it all came from the massive wound in his neck. It looked like the man’s throat had literally been ripped out, the skin hanging down in tatters. The sight wasn’t as bad as Morel expected but seeing death this close-up unnerved him.
Just from looking at the body, Morel could tell the man had been a vagrant. His flannel shirt looked as if it hadn’t been washed in ages and the remnants of his last meal were lightly crusted around his mouth and caught in his scraggly beard.
“Poor bastard,” Morel muttered.
He eyed the field suspiciously, looking for any sign of the killer. But as far as he could tell, he was out here alone with the body. He gave the vagrant another sad look and then turned back to his car to call for backup. They’d have to give the field a thorough search if they hoped to find any clues as to the killer’s motive. If the vagrant didn’t have that bloody wound on his neck, he might have just called the coroner and assumed the guy drank himself to death.
But this was a whole other ballgame.
Gary reached in and grabbed the mike for the radio. Just as his hand fell on it, he heard footsteps.
He looked up to see the shape of a man running straight toward his car. Morel dropped the mike and went for his gun, still leaning half-in and half-out of the car. Just as his hand landed on the butt of his gun, the running man threw his full body weight against the driver’s side door, slamming it closed.
Morel’s left leg was caught in the door and he felt something crack underneath his knee as the door crushed it against the frame. He shouted out in pain, still fumbling for his gun. He finally managed to draw it but by then, a pair of strong hands had grabbed his injured leg, using it to pull him out of the car.
Morel’s head hit the floor board and then the ground as he was pulled from the car. A red haze flared in his vision for a moment as his head struck the hard dirt. When that cleared and he looked up, Morel saw a dark shape standing over him; he aimed his gun upward as best he could. The pain in his leg dizzied him and already, the man was coming down upon him.
Morel put a bullet in the man’s chest at the same moment he saw his face. It was the vagrant from the field. His throat was still torn open and bleeding heavily as he bore down on Morel. From what Morel could tell, the shot he had planted dead center in the man’s chest had no effect at all. If anything, it only pissed him off.
The vagrant cupped both sides of Morel’s head in his hands and then growled like some kind of wild animal. The vagrant lowered his head and for one bizarre moment, Morel thought the man was going to kiss him. But then the vagrant’s teeth flashed out, finding his neck and Morel felt a hot stinging that was worse than the shrieking ache in his leg.
He raised his gun again but it was no good. The vagrant continued to gnaw into Morel’s neck as he caught his head in the crook of one of his bony but supernaturally strong arms. Morel felt the pressure, felt his head being turned harshly to the right, and started to taste his own blood. His body spasmed and his hand fired his gun, the shot wide to the left of the vagrant, flying harmlessly into the woods.
When the vagrant snapped his neck, Morel heard the pop, almost like a wine cork being expelled. Then the world went black and the last thing he heard was the grunting sound of the vagrant burrowing into his neck with teeth like razors.
2
When Saul had taken the opportunity to work for The Guard, he didn’t expect such a luxurious job. He’d expected to spend much of his time lurking around in the shadows of some of the world’s most terrifying places. And while he spent some of the past four months doing just that, most of his time was spent in beautiful places that he had never before been able to visit.
Leaving Ireland was harder than he had expected. Even with Nikki at his side, the prospect of returning home depressed him. As they packed their bags, he went to the large picture window that overlooked the rented castle’s walls. A soaring view revealed an impossibly green field.
“I don’t get it,” Nikki said, coming up to him and placing an arm around his waist as he looked outside.
“Don’t get what?” he asked.
“Why vampires are supposed to hate the sunlight. You seem to be infatuated with it lately.”
“I know, I know,” he said. “Comparing this to Red Creek, though—it makes me want to never go back.”
“There’s no reason we have to,” Nikki pointed out. “I’ve wanted to get out of that town since I was old enough to walk. Plus, I’m sure The Guard would make an exception for you and let us live wherever we wanted.”
“Probably,” Saul agreed. “But there’s Jill to consider. She came back to Red Creek for me. And as long as she is there, I’ll be there, too.”
Nikki nodded, knowing that he’d say this. In the four months since Jill had returned, Nikki had gotten to see the incredible bond between Saul and his sister. She’d never seen any mortal brother and sister so close, so finely in tune with one another. Nikki sometimes felt as if she were a third wheel to whatever min
d-meld the two of them shared. She envied what they had but did her very best to keep that particular feeling hidden.
“There’s our ride,” Saul said, nodding at the window. A black sedan inched down a small lane that wound toward the castle.
“Maybe we can come back here one day when it’s not related to work,” Nikki suggested. “Spend a week or so out in the hills and the countryside. What do you say?”
“Absolutely.”
They left their large room and walked down the castle’s cavernous halls. They wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for The Guard. The whole reason Saul came to Ireland was to speak with a clan of vampires that had recently learned of the Greelys’ demise. This clan worried that the death of such a powerful family could cause catastrophic turmoil among other clans. The Guard thought it wise to send Saul to talk them down. It worked. Saul was leaving Ireland with new allies. Surprisingly, he realized he had become quite the diplomat in this new job. He enjoyed the purpose his work gave him. The chance to build positive relations with other vampire families was an excellent bonus.
They got into the car. As the driver pulled away from the castle, Saul reached over and took Nikki’s hand. He had been doing things like this more often as of late. He would hold her hand or give her a brief kiss for no reason. Their relationship was evolving into something, something that neither of them had expected. And while they were still not ready to start tossing around the l-word, both Saul and Nikki were aware that they were well beyond the pleasurable and simple confines of “just sex.”
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