He lived here with his father, stepmother, aunt, and several team members, making up “The COLONY”, a special operative team of vampires employed by the federal government to protect the President and the American way of life. Sterling was one of the founding members of the COLONY, which had been established in 1866, after the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln. It was really the only life Sterling knew. The job had benefits and perks, but also pitfalls. But what job didn’t?
Sterling glanced around the room. It was a gilded cage with free room and board, paid for by Uncle Sam. Sure, he loved his family, and Fang Manor was a far cry from slumming it, but because of security measures he could never entertain guests at the place. A wife could live here with him, if he had one. A girlfriend? Hell, he never dated a woman longer than, well, an hour tops. And even then, the women were humans.
Speaking of human females, he was hungry, and there wasn’t one in his bed at the moment. This is exactly why he kept an apartment in the city.
Damn. His fangs were already extended, expecting to eat. It was time for plan B. He shook his head as he walked across the room. Next to the air purifier on the floor sat a small personal refrigerator. He opened it and pulled out a bag of AB negative blood. Bagged blood. Not his favorite, but at least the food was free. He poured some into a mug and warmed it in the microwave which sat atop the refrigerator. It took only a minute for him to down it all after the microwave beeped. There was no reason to savor bagged blood. Honestly, no reason at all. The packaging, for starters, was all wrong.
The dried rain still clung to his skin. Not wanting to wash it off, he skipped a shower. In his private bathroom, he stared at his blurred reflection in the mirror. One corner of his mouth turned up in a half grin, as his reflection reminded him of the vampire lore that Hollywood messed up in their movies. Hollywood did get the mirror reflection right though. Thanks to the silver in mirrors, and even the silver in the old fashioned photography, vampire images were always obscured.
As he brushed his shoulder length dirty–blond hair, he studied himself in the mirror. He spent time last night in the mansion’s private gym lifting weights with his father. Sterling’s muscular physique was well formed, and even the poor reflection showed his ripped muscles. He took great pride in this lure since it worked so well where human women were concerned.
He paused and leaned into the mirror. Was that a gray hair? Yep, but only one. Next, he studied his eyes. Wrinkles had formed overnight as well. Looking down at the medallion of the Patron Saint of Rain, Genevieve, he noticed a gray chest hair. Guessing his age was now in the mid–thirties he continued to brush his hair as he waited for the effects of his breakfast on his body.
The wait wasn’t long. He felt the warmed blood course through his veins and his cells began to regenerate. His hair gained more color, his wrinkles ironed themselves out, and he had a healthier glow about him. He took a deep breath and glanced back in the mirror. His fuzzy reflection showed him at the age of twenty–seven again. It was his age during his Jahrling Year, when he transitioned into a full vampire and his fangs extended to their full size to allow him to eat a blood–only diet. His fangs came in late because he was a half–breed. If he had been a purebred vampire, he could look as young as the age when most humans got their wisdom teeth, their early twenties. It was just one more thing to thank his long dead mother for, not that he ever had a chance to meet her.
The blood lust from his morning’s breakfast finally hit him. The sensation would come quicker if he had injected the blood directly into his veins. By orally consuming it, his spleen had to process the blood from his digestive system to his circulatory system, which took time. The first drops of blood acted as a fountain of youth, then eventually affecting other areas of his body like liquid Viagra. With no woman to satisfy him, he ignored his aroused state and decided to dress. Besides, feeling miserable was the norm. It didn’t bother him to remain uncomfortable.
He opened the top drawer of his dresser and pulled out a pair of socks and underwear. From the middle drawer, he pulled out a set of skin coverings. They resembled long johns, but were made from a light cotton fabric. They covered him from neck to ankles and prevented most of everything from touching him. They weren’t a great fashion statement, but they worked well. He walked to his closet for a pair of jeans and a shirt.
He had just finished dressing when his cell phone buzzed. It was another COLONY member, Daniel, who was working downtown, and the one vampire in the world Sterling avoided as much as possible.
The phone rang again, and Sterling stared at it with a grimace on his face. When it rang a third time, he answered it. “Yes, what?” Sterling huffed.
“Good morning to you too, mate,” Daniel said in a slightly faded British accent. “I’m with the police looking into a bloody murder, quite literally. I think you ought to see this.”
Sterling cursed under his breath. Miss Manners never covered the social protocol of how to behave when dealing with a man you murdered in cold blood, and then had turned into a vampire against his will.
He could understand the need to exact revenge, but Daniel forgave him for what he did. On top of that, Daniel was nice to him, which made no sense to Sterling. He gritted his teeth, “Text me the address.”
ENDURING SERVICE
COLONY Series Book #3
Available March 2014
Chapter One
Watching the apartment window from where she was seated in her parked car, Sulie let out a huge yawn. She couldn’t help it. Her insane schedule was taxing her body. Between her shifts at the hospital and her responsibilities as a member of the COLONY, the secret vampire task force for the White House, she needed a break. She wondered how human women could keep up. It wasn’t like she had a career and a family, but two careers were enough — at least for now.
She had awakened before dawn to give the President his yearly physical before leaving for Camp David. As the President’s private physician she would be accompanying him once again. She cringed at the thought. The man was a letch when it came to women, especially blondes. Sulie looked all of twenty–two and had long blond hair, curled in locks. She inwardly cursed herself for not cutting and dyeing her hair before the trip.
It was all routine. Her packed bags had already passed through security checks and had been loaded onto Marine One, the President’s private helicopter. The trip was not business related, and should—in theory—be relaxing, but she always hated going to Camp David. Again she would have to dodge the President’s advances, or ignore the man’s parade of women. The Secret Service would be discrete, as always, and Sulie would be asked to compel any humans to forget anything less than proper. She hated doing that. She was a trained professional doctor and soldier, not the man’s personal cleanup crew.
Sulie sighed heavily as she again glanced up to the apartment window. These presidential trips used to have a silver lining – a silver–haired lining named Jonathan Dixon. He was the retiring Director of the COLONY and had always accompanied her when she traveled with the President. The Director was the human liaison between the President and the vampire team that had protected all the presidents since Lincoln’s assassination. Dixon had served in that role for thirty years. Sulie liked the new replacement Director, but he was no Dixon.
Nobody was better than Dixon. He had been the best Director the team ever had, and the one person in the world that Sulie trusted, depended on, and loved with all of her heart. She felt the pain as her stomach twisted at the thought of his retirement.
With his retirement, Dixon’s memories of their last thirty years together would be wiped away. She, and everything they did together, would be forgotten by Dixon. He had known the outcome when he had accepted the assignment and was willing to fulfill his last duty with the team. She couldn’t let that happen. At least, not before she told the man how much she loved him. Even if he didn’t love her back, at least he would know how she felt.
This was the time. This was the place. S
he looked down at the now empty bottle of scotch lying in her lap and felt the slight buzz of its effects. It had taken the whole bottle for her to muster the courage to do what she needed to do, to say what she needed to say. There was no turning back.
Grabbing her purse, she opened the car door. The glass bottle tumbled to the concrete street and shattered. She clung onto the car door and took several deep breaths. Other than wine, she had never been much of a drinker. And even then, she never allowed herself to get tipsy.
The two flights of stairs challenged her, but she got her second wind when her foot hit the last step. Apartment 26E. It was an apartment she was very familiar with. As she approached the door, she again felt the butterflies in her stomach.
She rotated her neck and rolled her shoulders before knocking on the door. When she heard Dixon approaching, she took in a deep breath and remembered to smile, her fangs slightly showing.
The door flew open and she gazed into Dixon’s panicked eyes.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “I need you.”
CHAPTER TWO
Sulie quickly walked into the small, sparsely furnished apartment. Immediately her nose wrinkled at the scent of stale food. “What’s wrong?” she asked, glancing at a stack of empty pizza boxes and take–out containers on the dining room table.
Dixon closed the door and walked past her to the kitchen. The mortal man was in his mid–sixties and more than a century younger than Sulie. Over the years, his salt–and–pepper hair had grayed. His waistline had widened slightly, but his 6’1” frame carried the extra weight just fine in her opinion. He wore bifocals, but still had the most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen. She inhaled deeply and took in the subtle scent of his aftershave as he walked past. The man had aged well, just like a fine bottle of wine.
Fumbling through his medications in a cabinet, Dixon pulled out a small, empty bottle with a dropper top. “I’m out of Devolixion,” he said, reading the label, his voice nearly breathless. “I called the pharmacy, but even when I spelled out the medication they said they couldn’t fill it.”
I slight smile crossed Sulie’s lips. “It’s fine,” she said reaching into her purse. “I brought you a three–month supply.” She handed one of the bottles to Dixon and stored the other two in his cabinet.
She watched as Dixon smiled and let out a sigh of relief. The man had no idea how adorable he was. He could lead the team of vampires when it came to missions with the President, but ask him to keep track of anything personal and he was a mess. Sulie thought the man needed a woman in his life. She knew Dixon had been married several times, and had suspected that he had given up when it came to matters of the heart.
Now was the time. All she had to do was confess her love, but why were her knees suddenly shaking? The butterflies had also returned to her stomach. Feeling queasy from the scotch, she decided to have a seat in the living room.
There was a couch, a chair that did not match, and a huge television in the room. In the middle was a table, stained from years of abuse, which desperately needed coasters. The dry cleaning she had picked up for him days ago was still in its plastic bag and draped over the overstuffed leather chair. As she shifted the laundered clothes aside so she could sit, she caught her reflection in the small mirror that was hanging on the wall. Her reflection was fuzzy because of her vampire nature, but clear enough for her to recognize the image as her own. In preparation for this day she had spent all of yesterday at the spa. The hair extensions were an easy choice to have done, especially since she knew Dixon liked long, flowing hair. The manicure and pedicure would probably go unnoticed, but were pleasant, and the facial had been nice.
She sat down and noticed Dixon yawning as he squirted some Devolixion into his coffee cup. He stirred the drink as he walked to the couch, leaning heavily on the armrest as he took his seat.
“Dixon, it’s nearly eleven o’clock. Why are you so tired?” she asked.
Slouching, he rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m late taking the Devolixion?” he asked looking down into his coffee mug.
“No,” she said quickly. She moved onto the couch and, taking his hand, she used her special ability to read him medically. A simple touch was sufficient for a good diagnosis, but she ran her hand up his arm and allowed it to travel to his face. Caressing him tenderly she continued diagnosing him.
He closed his eyes as her fingers danced along his brow. “Your hair looks nice. Did you do something different to it?”
“It’s springtime. I figured it was time for a new look,” she lied. She wanted to admit that she changed her look just for him, but she wasn’t quite ready for that discussion. She needed to find out what was wrong with him first.
“It’s nice. I like the bouncy curls.”
She smiled as she accepted the anticipated compliment. Dixon had a fondness for the Farrah Fawcett look from the show “Charlie’s Angels” in the ‘70s and Sulie had changed her hairstyle a few times to mimic the woman’s tresses. Sulie did the same thing in the ‘90s when Dixon commented on Rachel’s hairstyle in the “Friends” show. Each change in hairstyle had earned her a compliment from the man, but unfortunately, nothing more.
After a brief pause he added, “I liked the short hairstyle too, like the hairstyle you had over a year ago at Easter. This is just … different. It looks real nice.”
Sulie loved how attentive to detail Dixon was. His photographic memory allowed him to remember many fine points. “Thank you, Dixon. Now hush so I can finish giving you your exam.” Her hands dove into his lush hairline.
After another moment of her caressing the nape of his neck, she announced, “You’re anemic.” She studied his tired face. “How long have you been this tired?”
“What? Um … I guess I’ve been tired for a while now. I don’t know.” He motioned with his hands over his body. “I’m falling to pieces. I did do some training exercises with Brandon yesterday, which wore me out.”
“Brandon is less than half your age,” Sulie said about the man replacing Dixon as COLONY Director. “Your anemia could be a result of the ulcer you have. Probably a lack of iron in your blood. I better taste it so I can be sure.” Her fangs were not fully extracted, but she rubbed his fingertip across one of the two sharp points in her mouth. A drop of blood pooled, so she licked the small wound and quickly sealed it.
The sample was small, but enough for an accurate reading – even better than having lab work done. At the very least they got the answer immediately without having to wait.
She grimaced as she tasted his blood. “It’s weak. Not much hemoglobin.” She licked her lips clean. “You have a lack of iron in your system. Let’s go have some lunch. I suggest you order a steak and I’ll prescribe some supplements for you.”
“You’re treating me like one of the babies you deliver,” he laughed as he wiped her saliva off his hand and onto his pant leg.
“More gentle than a heel prick for a newborn.” she said, noticing his actions. It wasn’t like he had brought out antibacterial gel and sanitized his hand, but the gesture still hurt. During the exam she had picked up no signs of love from the man. No raised heart rate. No increase of perspiration. No elevated endorphin level. No sexual arousal. No nothing.
Sulie looked away to hide her teary eyes. Human beings were easy to manipulate with a simple compelling, but she wanted Dixon’s love to be genuine. Other than her oath to the President which forbade her from compelling select government officials, including the COLONY Director, she couldn’t compel Dixon – not even in a moment of weakness. His mind had been altered when he had accepted the office of Director. No vampire could compel him.
She was just a friend to Dixon. A well trusted friend. Perhaps declaring her love would be the catalyst for him to see her in a new light. Unfortunately, professing her love was not something she wanted to do once they were at a crowded restaurant. She also didn’t want to rush the subject. The man was sick, and he needed to eat. It could wait until af
ter the President’s Camp David trip. But after that, she would tell him. There would still be plenty of time.
“Steak probably isn’t a good idea. You know I avoid red meat because of my cholesterol. You’re the one who prescribed Devolixion to me in the first place.”
“I prescribed Crestor for your cholesterol,” she corrected him.
Looking down at his coffee mug, he said, “I thought Devolixion was also for my cholesterol.”
“Don’t avoid red meat today,” she said, changing the subject. “This afternoon you’ll enjoy a steak and we’ll talk about your diet. I want you to eat foods that are rich in iron for a few days.”
He finished his coffee and stood up. “I’m feeling a little better. Let me grab my coat and then we’ll head out.”
She wasn’t surprised that he was feeling better. That was a nice side effect of Devolixion, and one reason she made sure he took it every day. Thankfully, she had anticipated his need for more and was able to mix–up another batch of the fictitious drug before heading over. Medically speaking, what she was doing was unethical, but no one ever said love was fair.
RELIANT SERVICE
COLONY Series, Book #4
Available Sept 2014
Chapter One
Daniel surveyed the huge crowd with a cautious eye. The number of onlookers had more than doubled over the last hour, and people were beginning to push against the rope–line that marked off the safety zone. Concerned about a breach, posted agents were being forced to hold back the bulging mass.
Even though the crowd stood a good distance away, Daniel suspected it still posed a threat. The President had just finished his speech at a public auditorium. Daniel’s job was to get him safely to the Beast, the presidential limo which securely waited near the kitchen dumpsters out back. A second limo, with its own agents, protected a decoy president at another exit.
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