Romancing the Paranormal

by Stephanie Rowe

  Shaking his head, he said, “That’s all I have. I drew it right after it happened.” His eyes glossed over as his mind traveled to another time and place. “At first, me and Carol thought he was tryin’ to help us. But then...” He choked down a sob. “...he grew fangs and bit my wife in the neck. The bastard tore her right up. He woulda got at me, too, if the ambulance hadn’t come when it did.”

  Mr. Lindon began to cry uncontrollably.

  Shock, mixed with compassion, overtook Sonnet, and she leaned closer to the client, handing him a Kleenex.

  “I believe you, Mr. Lindon.”

  He glanced up at her, with features awash with hope, and grabbed the tissue.

  “Please, call me Jake.”

  He pressed the tissue to his nose and blew.

  “I believe you, Jake.” Sonnet licked her dry lips. “Are you ready to talk about your daughter?”

  Jake rubbed his brow and then looked down, speaking into his chest.

  “I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”

  “I’m sorry. I can only imagine how hard this is for you. But I need to know exactly what happened. It’s the only way I stand a chance at locatin’ your daughter.”

  His head jerked up, eyes full of gratitude but still shaded by desperation.

  “So you do think it’s possible to find Kelly?”

  There was a catch to his breath, as if he didn’t dare expect a good outcome, but couldn’t help hoping for it.

  Sonnet held his gaze, knowing that if she even flinched, she’d lose Jake’s confidence. It was important that her clients trusted her.

  “If your daughter’s still alive, I’ll track her down.”

  She hated throwing around guarantees like they were confetti, but Sonnet was sure she would ascertain Kelly’s whereabouts, dead or alive. And she knew exactly who to ask for help.

  “Start from the beginnin’, Jake. And don’t leave anything out.”

  Sonnet sat back in her chair and let the client talk, and when he was finished, she pushed the call button on her phone.

  Dana’s voice cracked over the intercom.

  “What’s your pleasure, goddess of the hunt?”

  “Can you come in here and finish up with Mr. Lindon? I have a few leads to follow.”

  Jake smiled. It was weak, but there.

  “Thank you, Ms. Vale.”

  Sonnet lifted her finger off the intercom button and stood. After walking around her desk, she stopped in front of Jake. She held out her hand, and he took it.

  “Give my assistant all your information, along with my fee, and then go home and wait. I should have some news for you soon.”

  He hopped up, his hand still folded around hers, and he shook it.

  “No matter what happens, thank you for at least tryin’. It’s more than the police bothered to do.”

  She pulled her hand free and gave Jake a wink, before making her way to the door.

  “You’re welcome, Jake. But please, don’t forget. It was Detective Scott Riley who referred you to us, so the police can be useful at times... if you talk to the right person.”

  ***

  Standing inside the Warehouse, Sonnet hung a long leather strap, strung with a squirt gun filled with holy water, around her neck. She then concealed the weapon underneath her closed jacket. It hung low to her waist, long enough to grab and use with ease in case of an emergency, a vamp attack. Since she knew what kind of damage the blessed liquid could inflict upon the walking dead, she figured she’d stock up on the stuff.

  The sun was waning. It was time for Sonnet to go. She eyed Emely’s motorcycle, weighing the consequences of using it without her permission. It was a clear case of better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission. She knew that was wrong, but she needed it. Plus, she was still pissed off at Emely for leaving her to dispose of the corpse from the night prior.

  It was always more effective for Sonnet to track vampires without a bunch of metal surrounding her, so the bike would allow her to home in on her mark much easier. It was settled; she was going to take it.

  She scraped her hair back into a ponytail and slipped on a pair of shades. There was a fine tremble to her movements, and her mouth felt dry and tingly. She was nervous, because not only was she going on the hunt alone, but she was searching for the blue-eyed vampire. The thought of him did unnerving things to her, making her react in odd ways.

  Sonnet pushed the bike outside via the back loading dock. Once she cleared the building, she hopped on and turned the engine over. Accelerating down the street, she then reached cruising speed.

  As she drove, she sent out her awareness, ready to latch on to the thread of magic specific to the being she was hunting. The metaphysical cord had a unique flavor. To explain the taste of him would be impossible. But a close likeness would be a blood-coated candy cane—minty and coppery all at once.

  Suddenly, a hint of that taste assaulted her senses. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, concentrating on the location from which it emanated. Sonnet had been heading north for the past five miles, and the pull was coming from the northeast vicinity. Modifying her direction, she eased onto to the eastbound freeway. Once the course had been corrected, the thread that linked her to the vampire thrummed wilder.

  Sonnet’s lips parted into a grin.

  “Gotcha.”

  Chapter Five

  Sonnet’s hunter instincts led her to an upscale community. It was the kind of neighborhood where all the houses, built behind fences, had acres upon acres of sprawling landscape separating them. From there, finding the vampire would be simple. The metaphysical cord was heady with his essence.

  The large gate began to swing open as Sonnet neared. She slowed the motorcycle down to a snail’s pace and watched as a uniformed guard signaled for her to pass, with a wave and a friendly smile. She smiled back, confused, but not stupid enough to question it.

  She continued down the community’s suburban road for about two miles, until she reached a grand-scaled palatial home. That’s where the signal was blaring out the strongest. Sonnet smiled and took a good look at the house.

  “Hello, blue eyes.”

  After entering through another ornate gate, Sonnet parked next to a fountain. The stone structure was imposing, about ten feet tall and twelve feet wide. It was a majestic phoenix, wings spread, simulating flight. Water gushed forth from its open beak, tinted red by strategically placed lights.

  She got off the bike, stowed her gear, and made her way up a set of cobblestone steps, which led to the front door. She was more than mystified about how easy it had been for her to gain entry to the estate. It was almost like he was rolling out the red carpet, welcoming her every step of the way. And then, as if to prove that theory true, she found the door unlocked. She pushed it open and entered into a large and elegant foyer.

  “Hello?”

  Her voice skipped off of the shiny tile floor and echoed throughout the mansion. There was no reply.

  She gulped down a nervous lump and walked farther inside, stopping at the arched entryway between the foyer and an opulently appointed living room.

  “Hello, is anybody home?”

  Only the echoes of her voice answered.

  A soft clicking then came from overhead. It sounded like a door shutting. Sonnet looked up, squinting, as a sharp glint of light, from a chandelier, pierced her eye. Through the all-around silence, a dark, smooth voice preceded its owner’s appearance.

  “I wondered how long it would take for you to find me, hunter.”

  Surprise flickered across Sonnet’s features.

  How does he know what I am?

  She did a quick scan of the second floor landing. Within seconds, the vampire appeared. They stared at each other. He was fresh from the shower. His hair was wet, spiraling over the ridges of his naked chest, in the way it did when left to dry on its own.

  Sonnet licked her lips, trying not to think about how scrumptious he looked in nothing but a towel. The red cloth was wrapp
ed around his hips and draped to his knees. As he descended the spiral staircase, she noticed how effortlessly he moved. Each step, arm swing, hell, even the smooth sway of his hips was flawless, as if he’d made each movement a million times over, all of it executed without the hefty weight of thought.

  His neck muscles corded as he turned to watch her. Dark lashes slashed down like tepid rain, lifting less than a second later to reveal keen eyes that focused solely on her.

  With a lift of her chin, she stared right back at him. Why let him know that he’d caught her—the so-called hunter—off guard? Or that he could evoke any kind of emotions from her at all.

  “You were easy enough to find. You practically rolled out the red carpet for me. Why is that?”

  She watched his every move as he walked the last few steps. The towel covering the mid-portion of his body flapped open, exposing thick well-built thighs. His silent footfalls stopped several feet away from her. The excess water continued to flow down his limbs, making shimmering puddles on the tile under his feet.

  Sonnet swallowed a groan. The vampire’s physique was a thing of splendor, a masterfully chiseled work of art. She was on the verge of turning around to leave, when he spoke again.

  “Did you get rid of the body?”

  The question reminded her of why she was there, strengthening her resolve. All thoughts of naked thighs and glistening muscles became insignificant.

  “About that... I’m not sure if I should curse you or thank you for the gift you left for me in the trunk of my car. Tell me, do you leave morbid stuff like that for all the ladies you come in contact with?”

  She watched his cocky expression clear into a canvas of sincerity.

  “I’ve never bothered with another female besides you, Sonnet. Not in a very long time. Centuries, actually. And let me be clear. The body wasn’t a gift; it was my way of protecting you from yourself and from that foolish friend of yours.”

  “I’ve done nothin’ to encourage any of this.”

  “Ah, but you have, my little fox. You exist, a real and true thing of beauty in a world full of ugliness. That’s enough.”

  Baffled, she shook her head.

  “What does that even mean?”

  “It means when you refused to watch as your friend slew Bastian, you showed true compassion. That’s an amazing attribute, especially in a magic-born hunter.”

  “Magic-born?”

  “Not vampire, but a human born with rare and special gifts. You have the powers associated with that of a hunter, and they are brutal. They stalk their prey almost mindlessly, and when they catch them, the kill is wild and frenzied. In our world, your kind is feared.”

  She scowled at him, ignoring all of his frenzied-hunter nonsense. She was always in control, not one of those freaks.

  “You put a lot of faith in my compassion. For all you know, I could pull out a gun and shoot you in the heart, while you spout all this poetic crud at me.”

  He raised his brows in a way that said I dare you.

  “By all means, do it.”

  Her eyes went wide. She didn’t expect that. She was bluffing.

  Sonnet bit her bottom lip, not sure what to say next. The vampire groaned. The sound shuddered over the few feet separating them. She gazed up into his eyes, still worrying her lip. His lids were heavy, stare transfixed on her mouth.

  “So you mean to torture me to death, then? Instead of piercing my heart with a bullet, it will be with lust?” He took a step forward. “So be it. I face this fate you assign to me readily.”

  She could feel her face heating up in response to his shameless words. That wouldn’t do. Nope, not at all.

  She rubbed her arms as if she were cold. It was a put on. Sonnet was feeling the complete opposite of cold. The motion was more to cover the goosebumps skittering across her skin.

  “Cut the bullshit, vampire.”

  “Bane.”

  “Huh?”

  He took another step closer.

  “My name is Bane, little fox. Vampire is my flavor of monster.”

  She found herself wanting to follow his lead and take a step towards him, but instead, she forced a step back.

  “Umm, okay. Bane, let’s get a few things straight.”

  His eyes sparkled with humor.

  “Let’s.”

  “First off, I’m not your little fox, or your anything, for that matter. You can call me Sonnet, that’s it.”

  He shook his head and smiled.

  “You’re taking all the fun out of this.”

  “That’s the next thing. There’s no this or anything else between us, got it?”

  He winked in that wicked way she was becoming familiar with.

  “If you say so.”

  Sonnet let out a breath.

  “I definitely say so.”

  His piercing eyes skipped to her neck.

  “I see. So... am I allowed to taste of you?”

  She had a quick vision of Bane sinking his fangs through the tender flesh of her neck, and to her chagrin, it wasn’t all that unpleasant.

  “No!” she snapped.

  “We’ll work on that part.”

  “Look, there’s a reason why I’m here. I sort of need your help with somethin’. It’s a vampire thing, and currently, you’re the only one I know.”

  “So it will be business, instead of pleasure, then?” He pinched his chin between his fingers and rubbed at the clean-shaven skin. He studied Sonnet intently. “Yes, I can help you. But I have one condition.”

  Sonnet’s suspicions rose, along with her dark brows.

  “What’s your condition?”

  Bane leaned a shoulder against the wall, feet crossed at the ankles. He was back to being the picture of confidence, a lion who knew when he had the upper hand over his prey. And she couldn’t help thinking about how it sucked, feeling like the furry rabbit scurrying around a dangerous predator’s den.

  She folded her arms over her stomach, thumbing the holy-water gun she had hidden underneath her shirt. It made her feel safer, knowing it was there.

  “If I’m able to solve your problem, whatever this problem of yours may be, you will agree to join me for a single date at a time and place of my choosing?”

  “You’re not playin’ fair, Bane.”

  He threw his hand in the air, and his fingers twirled with a flourish.

  “You know what they say. All is fair in love and war.”

  She gave him a frosty look.

  “Fine. I accept your terms. But make no mistake, vampire,” she said, drawing the last word out as a taunt. “This is war, without the slightest possibility of love. Remember that.”

  Mischief flickered in his eyes.

  “I believe in fashioning my own fate.”

  She cleared her throat loudly.

  “Whatever that means.”

  He moved up the stairs, his body a white blur. When the blur returned, it shot across the space, stopping on the other side of the room. In a blink, she could see Bane in clear view again.

  He stood underneath an arched entryway, which led to what looked like the kitchen. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a nice black shirt. His caramel hair was dry and brushed to a smooth glossy perfection. Half of it fell at his back, stopping just at his waist, and the other half cascaded down his chest. Gods, the man was too damn sexual for her liking.

  He motioned for her to join him.

  “Are you coming?”

  Was she really going to let Bane help her? A blood-sucking, fang-dropping, oh, but so damn sexy vampire? A heavy weight settled in the air, as if the ghosts of fate were haunting her. What the outcome of their collaboration would be, she didn’t know. And in a way, she didn’t care. She kept her mind on the bottom line, which was finding Kelly.

  “Let’s get this over with.”

  Chapter Six

  Sonnet stepped into the kitchen. Moonlight spilled through a picturesque window, highlighting an enchanting view of a lake, which was pushed up against t
he home’s back property line.

  Bane reached over and clicked a switch. Unnatural light spilled across a space chock full of top-of-the-line stainless-steel appliances, floor-to-ceiling cabinetry, and a sea of granite countertops as far as the eye could see. Sonnet quickly decided that she liked the radiance of the moon better than the warm glow of the overhead bulbs, but for that occasion, the staunch relief of light was more appropriate.

  She glanced at her watch.

  “We only have a few more hours of night left. We should hurry this up if we stand a chance at makin’ any headway.”

  There were two guidelines under which vampires had to abide. The first was that they couldn’t enter a privately owned domicile without the clear consent from the home owner. And second, their magically altered flesh had to be sheltered from direct sun exposure, or it would blister and burn, so time was of the essence.

  Bane gave Sonnet a sideways glance.

  “Grab a seat at the table. I need to take care of something before we start.”

  Each one of his steps was light, barely falling hard enough to make any noise against the hardwood floor, as he made his way to the refrigerator. Sonnet walked across the room and sat down at a rectangular kitchen table that could seat twelve people. Her steps were loud, movement awkward in comparison, making her feel like a klutz.

  Bane opened the fridge and pulled out a single beverage can. He closed the door and then moved over to open one of the cabinets, which was filled with stacked cups, and took out a tall glass. He didn’t open his drink right away. Instead, he walked over to the table and sat down across from Sonnet.

  They made eye contact as Bane popped open the can and then poured its contents into the glass. The liquid filling the tumbler was red, and it poured thickly, coating the inside rim as it filled. Sonnet eyed the can’s lettering. It read, Sanguine-Blast. She tilted her head at it.

  “Doesn’t sanguine mean blood?”

  He crushed the can into nothing more than a flat disk, reared back an arm, and tossed it into a blue receptacle, labled recyclables, across the room. He settled back against his chair, red goo in hand.

  “It does. It makes good sense, considering that’s what it is. ”