Sunset Rising (Sunset Vampire Series, Book 5)

by Jaz Primo

  During the next couple of weeks, my patience wore especially thin as my conversations with Kat were few, as were my periods of relaxation from a grueling schedule.

  Still, while my disposition grew darker, my weapons training techniques improved considerably. Perhaps that was due to needing a physical outlet for my frustrations.

  At one point, Roman barely deflected a baton strike toward his shoulder.

  “Hey, you’re not actually trying to maim me, are you?” he asked.

  I stepped back. “Sorry.”

  “Let’s take five,” he suggested. “Do some more stretching, and maybe throw in some pushups while you’re at it.”

  “Punishment, coach?”

  “Let’s call it constructive venting,” he said.

  “How about a vacation instead?”

  “How about if I kick your butt for you?”

  “Exercise Nazi,” I muttered.

  Later that day, I texted Chance Noble.

  Let’s do lunch.

  She replied: Can’t.

  Why not?

  Trouble at home.

  After reconsidering further texting, I called her instead. When it went to her voicemail, I called her again.

  She picked up after the first ring.

  “Caleb, it’s not a good time,” she whispered.

  I heard men’s raised voices in the background. One man, in particular, had a particularly New York-sounding accent.

  “…gonna want me to do about that now?” the man demanded. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

  “What’s wrong? Chance, are you okay?” I asked.

  “My dad’s really upset right now,” she whispered. “In fact, he’s arguing with some other—”

  “Chance? Are you on that goddamned phone again?” snapped someone with a gruff-sounding voice.

  “I gotta go, Caleb,” she insisted.

  “Call me when you can,” I said just before the line went dead.

  Just when I thought my own life was pretty crappy...

  I remembered her telling me that her relationship with her father hadn’t been an easy one.

  I made a mental note to try calling her again in a few hours if I hadn’t heard from her. Then the day’s events swept me up again, and it was during my early evening walk home from the college before I thought of her again.

  Oddly enough, that’s when my phone rang.

  “How about a little privacy for this, Roman?” I asked.

  “Sure thing,” he said.

  He slowed down until he was a short distance behind me.

  “Chance? Are you okay?”

  “Hi, Caleb,” she said. “Everything’s better now.”

  “What was that all about? I mean, I heard arguing in the background.”

  “Yeah, that was my dad and one of his business associates,” she said. “Listen, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I think my father’s had people stalking me in New Haven.”

  “What? Are you kidding?” I asked. “Hey, where are you now? Are you safe?”

  “I’m fine, really,” she said. “I couldn’t wait to get away from there. In fact, I just arrived back to my apartment here in New Haven.”

  Well, it was a relief that she was safe.

  “Listen, what’s going on with you and your dad?” I asked.

  “I hate talking about this over the phone,” she said. “Can you meet me for dinner?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said. Then I realized I’d need to clear that with either Roman or Paige. “Uh, I might need a short time to reschedule something, but I should be able to meet you. What time and where?”

  “Something? Caleb, you’re always so charmingly mysterious,” she teased. “Okay. How about Prime Time, say an hour from now?”

  “Sure thing,” I said. “You know all my favorite places.”

  “Hey, what are friends for?” she asked.

  “Burying a body?” I countered.

  “Ew, that’s a really bad reference after the day I’ve had,” she said.

  “Sorry. I’ll see you there in about an hour.”

  By the time I cleared my evening plans with Paige, including convincing her to follow me from a discreet distance, it was getting late. But I made it to Prime Time on Temple Street only about ten minutes behind schedule.

  Chance had already secured a booth for us. As soon as she saw me walk in, she rose to give me a warm hug. She looked like her usual self—the stylish young Hollywood look—complete with designer jeans and leather jacket.

  After we ordered our drinks, I couldn’t help but delve into the topic at hand.

  “Chance, what happened today?” I asked. “And you said that you think your dad is stalking you?”

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “Yeah, pretty screwed up, isn’t it?” she replied. “Sometimes I think I just want to get into my car and drive somewhere—anywhere—and start a new life.”

  “Admittedly, very tempting,” I said. “I get it.”

  “You do?” she asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

  “Uh, yeah…I mean I can see the appeal.”

  “Mister Perfect wants to escape his life of luxury?” she asked. “Somebody get the smelling salts for me.”

  I scowled at her. “All right, Sally Sarcasm, let’s just get back to your crazy father issues, shall we?”

  She gave me a peculiar look. “Fine, but we’re returning to your situation again very soon.”

  I shook my head at her.

  “So, Dad calls me last night and practically threatens me to come home immediately. I texted Mom and she seemed to think it was important, so I went home,” she began.

  “Your dad threatened you?”

  “Yeah, he’s just being a dickhead,” she said. “I’ve told you that I don’t get along with him very well. Sometimes I can’t stand him.”

  “Sorry,” I said, motioning with my hand for her to continue.

  “I no sooner get home and Dad is all in a huff about what I’ve been doing and who I’ve been seeing here in New Haven,” she said. “Honestly, it was like he was an FBI agent grilling me over a crime or something.”

  “That was this morning?” I asked.

  “No, that was last night, barely ten seconds after I walked through the front door,” she said. “This morning, some guy—hell, maybe some private eye that he hired or something—shows up at the house and they start arguing. Then Dad calls me into the den and this guy, who I don’t even know, starts asking me a hundred questions. Half the crap he asked was the same stuff my dad and I went over the night before.”

  “What sort of stuff?”

  She shook her head. “Like, who do I hang out with on campus? Then he asked if I was dating anyone, or how many men? Then he asks if I’m dating women, too! Like it’s any of their damned business—”

  Nearby patrons looked over at us, so she fell silent.

  “Really? So, are you?”

  “What? No,” she snapped. “I’m all about the guys, thank you. I mean, carpet-munching is cool if you like that sort of thing.”

  I tried not to laugh aloud and she started to blush.

  “Ah, but you’re a carpet-diving sort of guy, aren’t you?” she said with a sly grin.

  I felt the heat rising to my cheeks. “Yeah-yeah, whatever. Back to your father and the stranger.”

  “Good for you. Anyway, so I’m answering these questions and Dad finally smartens up and digs into the guy for asking personal questions like that,” she said. “That’s when you texted and called. By then, I was ready to just walk out on both of them.”

  “Sounds intense. So, did you?”

  Chance waited until the waitress delivered our drinks and then left before she continued.

  “Oh, how I should have. Instead, it was another series of more stupid and prying questions,” she said. “I’m not submitting myself to that again. My dad can go screw himself.”

  “Does your mother know that you hate him so much?”


  “She knows,” she replied. “But hey, who am I to interfere. Mom seems fairly happy with their arrangement, though I can’t say that I applaud her taste in men. It seems as if it’s just so damned hard to find somebody that’s worth having nowadays.”

  I glanced across the room at a couple who were holding hands across the table and staring lovingly into each other’s eyes. It made me think of Kat, and how I wished that we could get back to that stage again.

  But with all of the clandestine vampire crap happening around the globe, and with Alton nestled right in the middle of it all, I doubted that I’d have Kat back to myself anytime soon.

  I loved Kat, but was it enough to get us through all that was happening? Hell, I hardly even ever saw her nowadays; unless, of course, I was at death’s door.

  I wondered how much longer I could endure our current arrangements. While I realized that it wasn’t Kat’s fault, I couldn’t imagine enduring successive years of this.

  “Hey, are you listening to me?” Chance asked, snapping her fingers once to get my attention.

  “What? Yeah,” I said.

  “Well, you sure looked pissed off all of the sudden,” she said.

  “Huh? Sorry,” I said.

  “Listen, if this is a bad time for you, I can—“

  “Nah, it’s fine,” I said. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been a little preoccupied with some things, that’s all.”

  “Yeah? Well, I haven’t seen much of you lately, either,” she said. “Enough about my dickhead dad. Whatcha been up to?”

  I shook my head. “Aw, just crap.”

  “C’mon, you just endured my drama queen dissertation. It’s time to put the crown on your head for a while,” she said.

  I chuckled. “Is that what I am now, a drama queen?”

  “Sure, we all are sometimes,” she said. “The crown gets passed around a lot. It’s all about the human experience; especially in college.”

  I looked into her eyes.

  The human experience…

  “What?”

  “Ah, yeah, you’re probably right,” I said.

  “So, girlfriend problems?” she pressed.

  I paused to collect my thoughts.

  “Yeah, some,” I admitted. “It’s like we never see each other much anymore. Not that with all these damned research obligations and classes that I have any time. Then all my spare time is filled with—”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Yes? I’ve wondered what it is that you do in your spare time. It’s not like you’re hanging out with me or your other friends that much. Although I see you hanging out with that slice of handsome who’s rooming in that big house with you. What’s his story, anyway?”

  “Hey, have you been stalking me or something?” I asked, trying to keep my tone mild.

  She gave a half-shrug. “I jog around the campus a lot, and I’ve seen you two hanging out. I noticed that he follows you back to your house a lot, so I just figured. That is, unless you’re playing for both teams...”

  My eyes widened. “What? No, it’s nothing like that. He’s just a friend of a friend who needed a place to share expenses. And what with Kat being gone so much and everything, and it just being Paige and me.”

  “Oh, yeah, your sister Paige,” she said. “I’m still perplexed with your family tree.”

  Warning bells went off my head for some reason.

  “Yeah, what about it?” I asked. “We don’t get to pick our family, you know. I know a lot of people with odd family circumstances.”

  She held up her hands. “Hey, true,” she conceded. “And hell, I’m hardly one to talk, am I?”

  I decided to steer the conversation back toward safer waters. “Speaking of which, where does that leave you with your father? He sounds sort of controlling.”

  “Yeah, control is his thing,” she said. “Though it comes off more like anal retention, really. He’s a plus-sized A-plus personality.”

  I had to laugh at that. “I know the type.”

  “Oh, who’s your A-plus pain in the butt?”

  “Not pain in the butt per say,” I said. “I dunno. It’s complicated.”

  “How complicated can it be? What sort of complicated?” she pressed.

  “It’s really not that easy for me to explain.”

  “It’s Katrina, isn’t it?” she asked. “Distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder, but I think that’s only true for occasional trips versus a lifestyle. What is it about Katrina’s job that’s keeping her away so much? Do you think it’s another guy?”

  My heart ached over that possibility. “No, at least, I’m fairly sure that’s not the case.”

  “For your sake, I hope not,” she said. “Been there, done that. But still, how can you know for sure if you’re always apart?”

  I really didn’t suspect that Kat might be seeing other people. If there was one thing that Kat was all about it was fidelity.

  “Nah, it’s gotta be her job,” I said. “It’s demanding right now; maybe more than ever, actually.”

  “What is it she does again? Corporate raiding or something?”

  If she only knew how close to true that moniker might be…

  “Just a lot of travel and long hours spent on various projects,” I said.

  “Listen, Caleb, you need to do what’s healthy for you,” she said. “I know I seem like one to talk about that, given what’s happening, but I mean it. You’ve got to sort it out in your head and decide if this is what you really want in life.”

  “I’m too busy to sort out anything outside of my daily schedule,” I said.

  “Take a weekend out of town,” she suggested. “Hell, take a week. That’s what I’d do. In fact, I’ve done that a couple of times in the past and it really helped. Get away from all of the crap and distractions and just find some place quiet to contemplate. Imagine what your life might be…make different plans, or just think about your life and dream about something more. It’s the whole Ebenezer Scrooge thing; what might your life be if you made big changes in it? You’d be amazed how quickly things come into perspective after that.”

  I had to admit that her idea was very tempting and sounded remarkably therapeutic.

  “I like the idea, but I don’t even know where I’d go,” I said.

  “Pick someplace you’ve been before. Like, try somewhere that makes you feel like you wanted to stay there forever,” she said wistfully.

  I frowned at first, but then actually considered the possibilities.

  It sounded rather tempting.

  “Kat and I went camping a few times,” I said. “It was amazing…the whole world just melted away while we were there.”

  She shook her head. “My idea of camping out for a grand escape is a five-star hotel, sunny days around a pool, and endless room service. Oh, and great shopping nearby, too. Maybe a spa.”

  I smiled. “You are such a diva.”

  She adopted a haughty expression. “Dah-ling, I put the divine in diva. Luxury is becoming on me.”

  Our food arrived and further conversation subsided as we ate, though my mind was racing with what she had suggested. Could I really just pack a bag and take off for a few days?

  Kat would never permit it; especially not by myself. I’d definitely have to haul both Roman and Paige across country with me.

  All prospects of blissful solitude quickly evaporated over that realization.

  “I feel sort of like a prisoner in my own world sometimes,” I said.

  She stared into my eyes with a serious expression. “Yeah? Well, if that’s true, then escape from it. As your self-appointed warden, I’m officially giving you a deferred sentence.”

  I gave her an appreciative look. “Thanks, I appreciate the sentiment, at least.”

  “Sentiment, my ass,” she said. “Since when does your own personal sanity have to take a back seat to everything—hell, everyone—else?”

  Her words echoed in the back of my mind throughout the remainder of our meal.

  Afte
r we finished eating dinner, we exchanged a lot of small talk about classes, movies, and a host of quickly forgotten topics. However, my mind kept wandering back to contemplations of a brief escape from my daily grind.

  Did I really want my life to keep going on like it had been? It might be months…or even years…before things changed.

  Then again, what if things never did change?

  That prospect sent a chill down my spine.

  No…I didn’t want that for myself.

  Or did I?

  “Hey, dessert or not?” Chance asked. “Or is your silence implying that I’m already getting too fat?”

  “Huh? Nah, not for me,” I said, snapping back to the present. “You go ahead.”

  “On second thought, the calories won’t be as appreciated while stapled to my butt,” she said.

  “What’s with the sudden worry over your body? You look great. You’re an attractive woman.”

  She appeared amused. “Thank you. I didn’t think you noticed.”

  “Sure, I noticed,” I said. “Hell, you should see all the heads you turn on campus.”

  There was little doubt that Chance was an attractive woman. Never mind that both Anthony and Trey from our hangout group had both openly commented on that fact, as well.

  She adopted a shy expression. “Well, I was asked out twice on the same day last week, now that you mention it.”

  “Cool. See?”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” she said. “Bring on that raspberry cheesecake. Wave down our waiter before I lose my nerve.”

  I said goodbye to her in the parking lot and walked in the direction of my neighborhood while turning up the collar of my leather jacket against the chill air.

  It didn’t take long for Paige to catch up to me.

  “So, how was dinner with Miss Cheesecake?”

  “Stalker,” I said. “And shut up; you love cheesecake like nobody else I know.”

  “Hey, I’m supposed to keep an eye on you, remember?” she asked. “I’m supposed to be stalkery.”

  “That’s not a word.”

  “Give it a rest, Mister Webster.”

  What I wouldn’t give to have just one weekend that didn’t involve people watching over everything I did or everywhere I went.