Desire After Dark

by Amanda Ashley

  Frowning, she put some bread in the toaster and poured herself a cup of orange juice. He was an odd duck. He showed up at the diner every night and ordered food he didn’t eat. She remembered asking him why he came to Ozzie’s and his reply, something about it being her presence that drew him. It had been a flattering, romantic thing for him to say, even if it was a lot of poppycock.

  Or was it?

  Of course it was. She had known the man for less than two weeks. And shared two of the most potent, heady, amazing kisses she’d ever had.

  After buttering her toast, she sat down at the table to eat, her mind trying to unravel the puzzle that was Antonio Battista.

  She hadn’t solved a thing when the phone rang.

  It was Tom Duncan.

  “Hi,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like a damn fool. Can you come and pick me up?”

  “Sure. What time?”

  “Whenever you can get here.”

  Vicki glanced at the clock. “Twenty minutes?”

  “See you then.”

  She hung up the receiver, finished her orange juice, and went into the bedroom to get dressed.

  Duncan was sitting on the edge of the bed when she entered his room. He looked up, his expression sheepish when he saw her. “Hi.”

  “Hi. You ready to go?”

  “Yeah. The nurse went to get a wheelchair. I told her I could walk, but she said it was hospital policy, yadda yadda yadda.”

  Vicki grinned. “How’s your head?”

  “It hurts.” He shook his head, then winced. “I can’t believe I ran out after him like that. If anybody else had pulled a stupid stunt like that, I’d have given him a tongue-lashing he wouldn’t soon forget.”

  “Would it make you feel any better if I bawled you out?”

  “You’re too late.”

  “Mr. Duncan? Are you ready to go?”

  Vicki glanced over her shoulder to see a nurse standing in the doorway, a wheelchair behind her.

  “Yeah.”

  Duncan settled himself in the wheelchair, his expression sullen. Vicki followed the nurse down the hallway and out the front door to where Vicki had parked Duncan’s Camaro.

  She pulled his keys out of the pocket of her jeans. “Do you want to drive?” she asked, “or would you rather I did?”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “All right.” She unlocked the passenger-side door. “Are you staying at the hotel?”

  He grunted an affirmative as he eased down on the seat and closed the door.

  Vicki turned the key in the ignition, looked over her shoulder, and pulled away from the curb. The Camaro might be old and beat up, but it ran like a dream.

  “So,” Duncan said, “tell me about Battista.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Where did you meet him?”

  “At the diner.” She looked at Duncan and smiled. “It’s where I meet everybody.”

  He grunted. “Is he from around here?”

  “I have no idea. I really don’t know anything about him.”

  “Yet he was prowling around your house late last night.”

  “It’s a good thing for you that he was!” Vicki retorted.

  “You’re mighty quick to jump to his defense, considering you don’t know anything about him.”

  She slid a glance in his direction. “What are you implying?”

  “How do you know he didn’t attack me?”

  “Antonio? Why on earth would he do that?”

  “He’s new in town. I did some checking around. You told the police you saw him leave the diner with two of the murdered women. You do the math.”

  “He doesn’t have yellow eyes.”

  “That could be a trick of the light, or he might wear contacts.”

  “Yellow contacts?” she asked skeptically.

  Duncan shrugged. “I’ve seen stranger things.”

  “Are you suggesting that Antonio is a murderer who…” She forced the words past her lips. “Who kills women and drains them of their blood?” She stared at him in shock when he didn’t answer. “You don’t think he’s a vampire? You do, don’t you?” she demanded when he didn’t deny it. She thought of Antonio’s potent kisses and her reaction to them and shook her head vigorously. “That’s impossible! He was at my house the same night as Falco.”

  “They could be the same man,” Duncan remarked, his voice thoughtful.

  Vicki shook her head again. “Antonio doesn’t have blond hair.”

  “Vampires can change their appearance.”

  “But they were both here at the same time,” she reminded him. “Antonio chased Falco away and saved your life.”

  “I didn’t see who hit me. It could have been Battista.”

  “Then why did he pretend to save you? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “You’re right.” Duncan rested his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes. The hit on the head must have affected his thinking. If Battista were the killer, Vicki would be dead by now, Tom thought, and so would he. Unless Battista was playing some sort of insane game, but that didn’t make sense, either. All of the vampire’s kills had been quick and clean. He had stalked his prey, taken their blood and a lock of hair, and vanished.

  But what if Falco had changed his M.O.? What if he was looking for a diversion from his usual method of killing? Thinking himself smarter than any mere mortal, the vampire could have decided to change the rules, make things a little more exciting…

  Tom scrubbed his hands over his face. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Now, with his head throbbing, he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t shake off the feeling that he had seen Battista somewhere before.

  He opened his eyes when Vicki switched off the engine. She glanced at the hotel, then looked over at him. “Are you going to be all right here?”

  “Sure.”

  “If you need anything, call me. I’ll be home most of the day.”

  “I will, thanks.” He frowned when she handed him the keys. “How are you going to get home?”

  “I can walk. It’s not that far.”

  “Are you sure? I can drive you, if you want.”

  “No, I can use the exercise. Take care of yourself.”

  On the sidewalk, she waved good-bye to Tom, then started down the street. She waved at old Mrs. Kent, who was sweeping the walkway in front of her son’s florist shop, smiled at Toby Benjamin, who was mowing the grass in front of the library. Ordinary people doing ordinary things.

  She paused in front of every shop to look at the displays. She told herself she was window-shopping, but she was really hoping to run across Antonio. She had quite a few questions she wanted to ask him, like what he was doing in town and where he came from, and what he did for a living, and why he never seemed to eat or drink anything and why she only saw him at night….

  Vicki frowned, annoyed with Tom for planting the ridiculous notion that Antonio might be a vampire in her mind. Antonio was no more a vampire than she was!

  Crossing the street, she paused to look in the window of Cliff’s Department Store, thinking it was time she bought herself some new jeans and sweatshirts, and maybe a dress or two, like the pretty green and white dress in the window.

  Her mind made up, she went inside. There was nothing like shopping to take a woman’s mind off her troubles.

  Half an hour later, she emerged from the store carrying two large shopping bags. Inside were three pairs of jeans, two sweaters, two sweatshirts, a long black wool skirt, the green and white dress, a pair of black heels, and a matching handbag.

  She hadn’t bought any new clothes in, well, in forever. She told herself that the fact that she was doing so now had nothing whatsoever to do with Antonio Battista, though she had to admit she couldn’t wait for him to see her in the other new dress she had bought, a slinky black jersey with a low back and a come-hither slit up one side. Of course, she had no idea when she’d have an excuse to wear such a thing
but, as her mother always said, it was a smart girl who was prepared for any occasion.

  She was about to turn down Fifth Street toward home when Mrs. Heath waved at her. Smiling, Vicki crossed the street.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Heath,” Vicki said. “Isn’t it a lovely day?”

  “Yes, indeed.” Mrs. Heath turned the hose on her flower bed. “How was your date with your young man?”

  “It was very nice. And you know what? He is related to the Thomas Duncan that you knew.”

  “You must be careful, dear. I’m sure your Mr. Duncan told you there’s a vampire in town. I don’t want him to get you.”

  “The man with yellow eyes,” Vicki said.

  “Yes, I should have told you before, but I didn’t want to frighten you.” Mrs. Heath made a tsking sound. “That was foolish of me.”

  “How do you know about him?”

  “Why, he’s the one who tried to kill me all those years ago,” Mrs. Heath said, her voice as calm as if they were discussing the color of her daisies. She patted her hair. “It’s white now, but it used to be as red as yours.”

  Vicki stared at Mrs. Heath, unable to believe she could talk about it so calmly.

  “Are you all right, dear?” the older woman asked. “You look a little pale.”

  Vicki shook her head, certain she would never be all right again.

  Chapter 14

  When she got home, Vicki hung her new jeans, skirt and dress on hangers and put them in the closet, along with her heels and handbag. She folded the sweaters and sweatshirts and put them in her dresser drawer, carefully concentrating on each task so she wouldn’t have to think about what Ramona Heath had told her.

  In the kitchen, she opened a can of soda, then sat down to read. After the first few pages, she put the book aside. She thumbed through a magazine, then went into the kitchen to get an apple. She washed it, then put it back in the fridge. Too restless to sit still, she went outside and started raking the leaves in the front yard.

  It was a beautiful afternoon. The sun was shining. The birds were singing. The air was cool and crisp but not cold. The autumn leaves rustled beneath her feet as she raked them into a pile.

  But all she could think of was yellow eyes and bodies drained of blood.

  She shivered, suddenly chilled as she glanced over her shoulder. There was no one there, of course. It was broad daylight. Everyone knew vampires were active only after dark…

  Tossing the rake aside, she went into the den and fired up her computer. She brought up Google in her browser, then typed “vampires” in the search window. The first page that came up read, “Web results 1–10 of about 2,310,000 for vampires.”

  It was going to be a long day.

  Settling back in her chair, she began to read. She found a wealth of information in the first ten sites alone!

  One site claimed that everyone knew about vampires and also knew that there were no such things, at least not as portrayed in Hollywood. But there were vampires; however, they didn’t suck the blood of humans, instead, they drained them of energy. According to one site, those who were thought to be vampires could have been merely people suffering from a variety of diseases, including acute anemia, which would leave a person looking pale, and catalepsy, which caused temporary paralysis so that the sufferer appeared dead. A person with catalepsy could see and hear but couldn’t move. Vicki shuddered, imagining the horror of a relative who laid a loved one suffering from this condition in a coffin for burial, thinking they were dead, and then saw that loved one trying to rise from the coffin.

  Another site suggested that many things that could not be explained in any other way were attributed to vampires. One of the most astonishing was the fact that some unlearned people believed that in the 1300s, vampires had caused the Black Death, which was, of course, bubonic fever.

  In ancient times, it was believed that a baby born with a caul, teeth, or a tail was doomed to become a vampire, as was the seventh son of a seventh son, and anyone unfortunate enough to be bitten by a vampire. It was also believed that a child born out of wedlock would become one of the Undead. She had to laugh at that. If every child born out of wedlock in this day and age became a vampire, the world would be crawling with them.

  She could only shake her head as she read about the various ways people had used to destroy vampires. Some believed in burying the body face down so that if it tried to escape, it would only dig itself deeper into the earth. Sometimes wooden stakes were placed above the grave so that if the vampire tried to leave, it would stab itself, hopefully through the heart. Other methods of ensuring that a vampire did not rise again were wrapping the body in cloth or a carpet, or tying its arms and legs together.

  Another site, which she found fascinating, stated that vampires were not supernatural or immortal, but that the vampire trait was part of their DNA, and this trait was likened to a viral imperfection. Some believed this trait could be passed on, some said it could only be inherited. There was another theory that vampires were beings who could not accept their own death, and when their body died, their soul invaded the body of an infant at birth, thereby providing the vampire with a new body and a new life. It was believed that these vampires went through many bodies, and for this reason they thought of themselves as old souls. It was believed that these creatures were hardier than humans, healed faster when hurt or sick, had heightened senses, and were extremely sensitive to sunlight.

  By the time she reached the third page, her mind was swimming with so much conflicting information that she didn’t know what to believe.

  After shutting down her computer, she went into the kitchen, surprised to see that the sun was setting. Amazing, how quickly one lost track of time while cruising the Web.

  Standing in front of the refrigerator, trying to decide what to have for dinner, she happened to glance out the window. There was nothing there, but she went over and drew the curtains anyway, and then she went through the rest of the house, locking the doors, making sure all the windows were closed and locked, drawing all the curtains and drapes.

  Feeling much better, she went back into the kitchen to fix dinner.

  Feeling weary and utterly discouraged, Tom Duncan entered Ozzie’s Diner. He took a seat at a table in the far corner, one hand idly exploring the bandage on the back of his head. In spite of his injury, he had spent the afternoon scouring the town for Dimitri Falco’s resting place. Unfortunately, he hadn’t found what he was looking for. Tomorrow, he planned to widen his search, perhaps take in Woods Hollow and Cottonwood. Of course, as swiftly as vampires could travel, Falco’s hideout could be hundreds of miles away from Pear Blossom Creek.

  With a sigh, Duncan picked up the menu.

  He was still trying to decide what to have for dinner when the waitress approached his table.

  “Hey there,” she said brightly. “Have you decided yet, or do you need another few minutes?”

  Tom looked up into a pair of sparkling brown eyes and wondered why he hadn’t noticed her before. “How’s the trout?”

  The waitress, Bobbie Sue, according to her name tag, shook her head. “Not tonight.”

  “What do you recommend?”

  “The fried chicken is looking really good.”

  “All right, I’ll have that.”

  “Soup or salad?”

  “Whichever one looks best.”

  “Soup,” she said, and jotted it down on her pad. “Can I bring you a cup of coffee?”

  He nodded. “Thanks.”

  He watched her walk away, admiring the sway of her hips, surprised by the rush of desire that infused him.

  She returned a few minutes later with his coffee. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks. Say, I don’t suppose you’d like to go to dinner and a movie some night?”

  “I thought you were going out with Vicki?”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t anything serious. Just dinner. What do you say?”

  “Sure, I’d like that, as long as we don’t hav
e dinner here.”

  He laughed. “We’ll go anywhere you like.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “My favorite restaurant’s the Wayside Grill over in Woods Hollow. They have a new movie theater there, too.”

  “Sounds good to me. Just say when.”

  “I’m off tomorrow night.”

  “Tomorrow night it is.”

  Too nervous to relax, Vicki wandered through the house. She fed the fish, straightened a picture here, a figurine there. She glanced at the windows again and again, wondering if the vampire was out there, waiting, watching.

  Finally, unable to resist, she went to the front window and peered outside.

  And he was there, a stark figure standing on the sidewalk, his yellow eyes glinting in the darkness.

  Vicki, come out to me. His voice echoed deep within her mind. You know you want to. Even now, you’re wondering what it would be like to succumb to me.

  “No!”

  You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.

  “Go away!” She screamed the words.

  You will be mine, Vicki Cavendish. Sooner or later, you will be mine. That weak mortal hunter, Duncan, cannot save you.

  She was trembling now. His voice mesmerized her, tempting her to go to him, even as her own morbid curiosity urged her toward the door. No! She willed herself to stay where she was. Antonio would come. He would save her.

  The sound of Falco’s laughter rang out in her mind.

  Battista can’t save you. He’s no match for me.

  “He beat you the other night!”

  The vampire’s anger rolled over her in thick black waves until she felt like she was drowning in pitch. And then, to her horror, she saw him bending over Sharlene’s lifeless body, his mouth stained with her blood, a lock of Sharlene’s hair clutched in his hand. Gradually, the image altered, the scene shifted, and suddenly the body at his feet was no longer Sharlene’s but her own, and she knew she was looking into the future as he saw it.

  “No.” The word emerged from Vicki’s throat in a choked whisper. “No.”