“My my my, you are quite the beauty aren’t you,” he said to Annie. “Where have you been all my life?”
“That line is older than you.” Annie gave him a look that could scare the bark off a tree. She knew how times had ravaged her looks, at least in her opinion. What was the old buzzard up to? “Would you like me to grab that bottom lip of yours and pull it over your forehead? One more comment about my looks and you’ve had it.”
Alastair realized that he had made an error. How was he to explain his situation? “I beg your pardon madam, my name is Alastair. One of my talents is that I can see everyone as they were when they were young. I can see you as you are today as well, but it always reverts back to the young woman that you were at your peak so to speak. So I see you as quite the beauty.”
Annie thought about what he had said but had never heard of such a thing, but what she knew about vampires could be put in a ring box with room to spare. “Lucky you. How I wish I could see myself as I was when I was young. Now I look like the wicked witch that’s been run over by a truck. I don’t need a mask for Halloween I can tell you that.” She observed Alastair’s yellowish green aura, but had no idea what it meant; she watched the colors swirl around him.
“Yes, it’s a peculiar thing that’s been with me from the start. In the beginning it had me wondering why there were no old people around, to see people as they really are I had to concentrate.”
“Don’t concentrate too hard on me or you’ll burn your eyes out. This vampire business is complicated. I hope that I don’t become an evil thing sucking the blood out of the innocent.”
Alastair looked into Annie’s eyes. “I can tell a couple of things about you even though I don’t know you from Adam. You are a kind soul and you are new to the club. Your scale is tipped way over to good side. Your good tendencies far outweigh the bad. I’ve learned to read vampires fairly well.”
“What do you mean I’m new to the club?”
“The vampire club.”
Seeing that Alastair was engaged in conversation, the family moved off to the protests of the children; they were pacified when they were told they were off to get ice-cream. They waved to the old man and he happily returned the farewell, blowing all a kiss. He had an old cane with a sword inside it that he leaned on. He was a distinguished looking gentleman and not bad looking.
Annie smiled at the thought of how he perceived her. “Oh yes of course, I should have caught on to that. Everything is so different for me now. A few days ago I had months to live; now I may have centuries. My black and white life has turned to color.”
“Yes indeed, it can take a long time to get used to being a vampire. You thought those screams were serious screams, didn’t you? I didn’t catch your name.”
“It’s Annie. I thought I was going to have to kick your ass all the way to Maine. So how does that thing work with children? Do you see them as they’ll be when they’re older?”
“No, I see children as they are. Can I ask you a question Annie?”
“Who’s stopping you?”
“I was just wondering who turned you. I could sense your energy from quite a ways away. Was it an ancient one? Were you attacked?”
“No. Take a guess at who turned me.”
Alastair thought about it and didn’t want to offend her. He was usually quite honest with his words, but one had to be careful with a stranger. Her personality was yet to be fully developed as a vampire. “There are too many vampires in the world for me to guess that.”
“Would you believe that I was turned by Dracula?” Annie smiled at him and her beauty was distracting.
Alastair looked into her eyes and attempted to mind her but discovered that he couldn’t. It was too soon to make judgements on Annie but there was definitely something that he liked about her. “Dracula turns very few from what I gather, but I’m certainly no expert on him. Never met him.”
“Well he is some handsome I can tell you that.” Annie adjusted her hair and to the vampire sitting beside her she appeared to be gorgeous. So beautiful in fact that he had to look away from her ample bosom. “Believe it or not but it’s a fact. Dracula is the one that turned me. I asked him and I was surprised when he did it.”
“Annie, I’m not sure if I believe that or not. Maybe you’re trying to take me for a ride? Perhaps that’s your sense of humor? What’s important is that we go somewhere and have a cup of coffee.”
Annie did notice that he was in fact looking at her as if she was once again young and beautiful. She had missed that look, and after all the years that had passed she had almost forgotten what the look had looked like. It was the beauty of and the beast of testosterone. There was such desire in those blue eyes. His pupils were expanding and she definitely liked that. “I don’t know you from the man in the moon. Alastair, you know I don’t really look young and beautiful.”
The vampire smiled. “And I don’t resemble Brad Pitt, so what. Both sides of you look pretty darn good to me. I don’t understand why you’re so critical of yourself but I’d like to. Besides, I’m just asking you out for coffee, not to get hitched. We can talk and discover a little more about one another. Perhaps we could be friends or more.”
Alastair was being a bit too bold for her liking. “You know bad guys almost always pretend to be good guys, and then when they get you alone they rip your arm off and beat you with it. I don’t know you.”
“You could mind me and see what you think?”
“I don’t know how to do that.” Annie looked Alastair up and down, she approved of his style, looks and demeanor. Dracula had warned her that some old vampires liked to prey on new vampires, but he did appear to be okay. She could certainly use a friend. “Would we call it a date?”
“If we went for coffee? If you want to call it a date we’ll call it a date; if you want to call it something else, we’ll call it something else.”
“I’ll have to think about it. After all you’re a stranger and a vampire. That makes you a strange vampire. For all I know you could be into eating old women. Did you know that you can pick up the phone and call for blood just as you’d call for a pizza?”
“Yes the world is changing. Look at that cloud up there. What does it look like to you?”
“Looks like a cloud. Why, what do you see?”
“Annie, doesn’t that cloud up there look like a cup of coffee?”
She studied the cloud but it looked nothing like coffee. “I don’t see it.”
“That man over there with the old Fedora, the shape of his head, don’t you find it looks like a cup of coffee.”
Annie looked at him and sighed. “What’s wrong with sitting here and talking? Are you trying to get me into your lair? We can talk here as well as anywhere else.”
“Sitting here can’t officially be called a date. I’d like to say that I can assure you that I am a fine gentleman, but I can’t. Friendship takes time. Some believe in love at first sight but I believe that it’s more lust at first sight. But a cup of coffee only takes about a half hour. We’d be in public for all to see.”
It was much too soon to determine whether he was a good vampire or not, but she did feel comfortable around him. “Do you work for Juan Valdez?”
“Juan Valdez is a fictional character.”
Annie had to smile. “Well, then I won’t tell you that I’ve met him. You must be lonely to be so desperate to get at me.” She laughed at her statement.
“I have a few friends but none of the opposite sex. The life of a vampire can be lonely and sometimes dangerous. The nights are long I suppose. Lately, for whatever reason, my thoughts have gone back to a long lost love. Elizabeth White was quite fetching and had a wonderful personality. She was a vampire as well and we spent almost fifty years together. She became attracted to another vampire, and I didn’t fight for her because I figured that she either wanted me or she didn’t. That was one of my biggest mistakes. I think she wanted me to fight for her. Years later I found out that he had killed her. I k
now that there is absolutely no point in dwelling on it but still it haunts me. Elizabeth always wore this particular perfume, I don’t know what it was but even now when I smell something similar it brings me right back there. Scent memories can be so powerful.”
Annie felt sorry for him. “Most of my friends have passed away so I know what it’s like to be lonely. I am never lonelier than when I wake up from a dream with old friends only to be hit in the face by reality. My dreams have always been so vivid.” Annie thought about it and then changed the subject. “Don’t you find it funny how young people look at old people? They don’t just see people, they see old, as if old is part of one’s personality.”
“Annie, that is true. They judge with a single glance, as if they are never going to grow old. I guess the one’s that get turned into vampires at least won’t have to deal with that.”
She looked into his green eyes. “All right then, let’s go have that coffee.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The forest surrounded her
With trees and wildflowers
On the path to perfection
On the road to heaven
Her body lay silent amongst the trees
She would not age
She would not see
The beauty that surrounded her
In the forest of nature’s trees
THE FOREST WAS RELATIVELY QUIET. Nature had a way of calming one’s soul, its personality enchanting. An orange and brown Tawny Emperor butterfly lit on a tree over her body, while a bluebird was singing in the distance. The corpse had already commenced to decompose in the heat of the summer. She was wearing black shorts with a matching top, and she had been tossed around like a ragdoll before being thrown on the forest path. Her spine had been severed amongst other things.
Vincent stared down at the young woman’s body. “You poor thing.”
The police had called the red sheriff to the crime scene, and remained at a distance with the area cordoned off. Vincent had read the note that had been placed in the hand of the 19-year-old college student. It was obviously a supernatural death but now he wasn’t so sure that it was a vampire. Her neck was torn out and some of her blood taken. What an absolute waste of such a young life. The note was telling. Whoever did this was not going to stop, but on some level may have wanted to be caught. Sick minds could be disharmonious to themselves. The sheriff slowly and deliberately scanned the area but saw no one.
He glanced at the police down the forest path as he went through his investigation. At almost six and a half feet tall Vincent was impressive. He was as tall as he was handsome. He was an independent red sheriff; he wandered wherever and whenever he wanted. Vampires would often flee an area that he was even rumored to be in. They police watched as he stared up into the trees, but actually he was scenting the area. There was something on the air, so slight that it was almost imperceptible. But the scent was definitely there. Vincent walked the immediate area for discernible tracks but found none. It was almost as if he had scent amnesia. The memory of it was there but in pieces. Vincent would almost get it but then it would slip away from him.
She had been killed just after sunrise, out jogging on the forest trail, with her white water bottle nearby speckled with her blood. Some folks wouldn’t dare travel alone but obviously she had been one of the brave ones, although strength in numbers didn’t apply when it came to humans facing nasty blood suckers anyway. She perished doing what she liked to do. No sign that she had carried a weapon, unless the perpetrator had absconded with it but he didn’t think so. He stood up from examining the body and instinctively placed his hand on his colt, realizing that it had been one of the officers that had aimed his gun at him as his back had been turned. Not a serious threat, simply an act of stupidity.
The sheriff went off the trail into the nearby forest. He searched for telltale signs of movement and then finally found it. There were broken branches where someone had approached from the west. Whoever it was had torn out a sapling in an apparent fit of rage. The murderer had moved fast. It had been over quickly; she probably didn’t have time to panic. Had he been fighting with himself in an attempt not to kill the girl? That was certainly just speculation at this point. A crow flew over his head landing on a nearby branch where it began to caw. It flew to another branch and then returned to the first, as if it wanted him to follow. Some animals acted strange around vampires. Vincent knew that the crow could have been a namuhwoork, a crow that could transform into a human. They spent more than ninety percent of their lives in crow form. The sheriff followed the bird quite a distance, and when it stopped it cawed repeatedly. When the bird flew down onto the forest floor he knew he had something. Sure enough, as he looked down there was a nine inch paw print. A werewolf! Not a vampire but a werewolf.
“Hey, did you see the attack?” The bird not wanting to be involved further flew off and out of sight.
“Damn. I haven’t seen a werewolf in years.” Vincent remembered how the last one he encountered had taken a chunk out of his left leg. The paw prints were more than double the size of a normal wolf. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was a werewolf. Unlike vampires, werewolves were few in numbers. Most of them left humans to their own machinations, except for the newly turned. The new ones were more into a Jekyll and Hyde state, unpredictable. In human form they could be exemplary. If they could actually find a pact they would settle into their new lives a lot faster. “Well, this complicates things.”
Wolves were at home in the forest and after a kill they could remain in wolf form for days, a consequence of the excitement of the kill. Vincent hadn’t come face to face with a new werewolf in a while. This was almost certainly a lone wolf, but the nearest pack that he knew of was almost a thousand miles away. He hated killing wolves they were such beautiful creatures. He would bring in a trap and hope for the best. Vincent had several friends that were werewolves but he hadn’t seen them in years, perhaps it was time to rectify that.
After killing he composes that odd poetry for whatever reason. And to write about the killings meant rational thought, not Jekyll and Hyde shit. Where was the pen and paper when he was in wolf form? That part didn’t make sense, but as of late not much did. All he dealt with day after day was senseless killing. Irrational vampires were definitely increasing in numbers.
Vincent heard a branch snap in the distance, and when he turned his head he realized that it was simply a white tailed deer. He would not inform the police that they were dealing with a werewolf. The present vampire onslaught was bad enough for them to wrap their minds around. Just another day in the big mixed up city of New York.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
SITTING AT THE CORNELIA STREET CAFÉ Lauren couldn’t believe that Michael hadn’t yet showed up. It appeared that for whatever reason he wasn’t coming. There was no point in waiting any longer. All her thoughts were unhappy ones, and for all she knew he was bones. He better be dead or have a damn good reason otherwise she was going to kill him.
A contented yellow Warbler was singing and she felt like telling it to shut up.
The feeling of not being in control was the worst part as she was a bit of a control freak. She had tried to curb that side of her with Michael and had had moderate success. Each passing minute of uncertainty was like an extra arrow shot into her heart. It was time to go.
Disgusted she blurred all the way back to her loft, restless she paced a little, attempted to read but couldn’t. She lay on her leather sofa pissed one moment, worried the next. If Michael never showed up she would of course think that the wizard killed him. Perhaps she would get a call from a mysterious voice to lure her to him and they would both end up dead. One thing was for sure, bones or not she would have to go and get him. Love could make some people jump off a cliff even though they knew there was a splat at the end.
The sheriff couldn’t relax, couldn’t think straight, and couldn’t guess at what the hell to do next. She lay on her sofa with her arms crossed. Lauren close
d her eyes and tried hard to sleep. Tired and yet she couldn’t reach that blissful state of unconsciousness. A yawn made her eyes water. Her cell buzzed and it was Michael. “Michael, where the hell are you!” She listened intently with fire in her eyes; half expecting that he had been kidnapped. “You’re downstairs? You’re okay? You’re not gonna be! Get the hell up here before I come down there and kill you!”
Within seconds there was a knock at the door and Michael stood there with a large box of chocolates. He looked nervous. He stepped in and she punched him, knocking him right back out the door. Picking himself up and then the box of chocolates, he held them out for her to take, simultaneously rubbing his jaw. “But I brought chocolates.”
Dracula: Hearts of Fire (Dracula Heart's) Page 17