With a burst of flame, the malignant spirit vanished.
Pausing just long enough to make sure the demon was truly gone, Devereux leaped back into the fray, taking out several more of the feral vampires, but the struggle was over almost as soon as it began. His team was extremely well-trained, and the opponents weren’t. Within minutes all the women had either been killed or subdued for transport to Denver.
He spared a quick thought that his friends would be pleased that he’d found himself participating in his own “spree.”
The captain of the security force was bleeding from multiple gashes and holes and his clothing was badly ripped, but there were no major injuries. He stepped closer to Devereux. “Sir, shall we take over here? I can call for a clean-up crew and evacuate the prisoners.”
“Yes, thank you. There is a young Native woman in the other room. Make sure she is deprogrammed and returns safely to her home. And look for other humans who might still be alive. Give them whatever medical assistance they need.”
Devereux surveyed the devastation. I just lived through the longest, most irritating night of my endless existence.
Brushing off ash, dirt and blood, he walked up the stairs and out into the clear air.
He indulged in a few unnecessary deep breaths, then thought himself back to The Crypt.
***
Devereux appeared in the club, landing in front of the booth where he’d left Laurence and Elliott. Only a few minutes had passed in their time.
He had been fully prepared to alter the memories and perceptions of any humans who might have seen him materialize, but he found himself somewhat disappointed to attract no attention whatsoever. One of his friends must have protected the area. He could only imagine how he looked: blood-covered, torn clothing, dirt, ash and various foul substances running down his face and in his tangled hair.
He’d been waiting all night to give his friends the attention they deserved.
Perhaps I will rip their throats out first, then gut them like fish...
“Devereux!” Elliott exclaimed, his eyes bugging out.
“Holy shit, old man! What happened to you?” Laurence said, starting to rise from his seat.
Devereux stared at them. An evil smile spread his lips. “What happened to me? You have the audacity to ask me that? Well, here.” He braced his hands on the table and leaned forward, locking eyes with one, then the other. “Let me show you.”
He gave them a fast-forward mental version of the three dates they’d set up for him, and at the end, they both stared at him, appalled, then they looked at each other and blinked out.
“We’re sorry. We had no idea it would be that bad. We’ll talk later, when you’ve calmed down,” floated through his mind as his friends fled.
Looking around to ensure that no one had noticed the supernatural activities, he slid into the booth and dropped his head back against the cushion.
Lucky for them I am too soul-weary to chase them. But tomorrow, they bleed.
The guard he summoned earlier, plus several other club employees, rushed to the booth, and stood, awaiting orders. He dismissed them with a flick of his fingers.
If he thought he’d been miserable before agreeing to participate in the Night from Hell, he now felt exhausted and hopeless on top of it. He thought about how excited — and misinformed — he’d been when he chose to become a vampire all those centuries ago. He’d had such lofty intentions, such big dreams. He was going to use his time to learn and grow, to evolve. To help the undead community see that they had more options than merely killing humans and indulging themselves. They could become an advanced, wise species. He laughed at his own naïveté.
Instead, he’d discovered that most individuals — vampire and human — resisted change. They preferred to follow their base instincts, to wallow in the lowest common denominators.
Maybe it is time to consider whether I have lived long enough. Perhaps it is time to... stop.
With a sigh, he thought himself to his rooms under the club.
***
After a shower and fresh clothing — another of his leather slacks and jacket designs, this one in deep teal, a personal favorite — he materialized in the closet he’d used earlier to depart, then stepped out into the bustling club.
Thanks to the live dance music offered for several hours every night, the noise level was deafening, as usual.
“Devereux!” yelled a female voice.
He forced himself to smile as he glided toward the group of young people sitting together at a special table, sequestered off to the side — a table he’d designated as theirs. Even though they weren’t exactly legal — most of them hovering around ages nineteen or twenty — he let them visit the club, but the staff were forbidden from selling them alcohol.
It had been Midnight, a young human friend, who’d called him over.
She was one of the innocents obsessed with becoming a vampire. She and her friends took the occult elements of the club seriously and, when he first met them, they were experimenting with some dangerous activities — including cutting necks and drinking each other’s blood. One of the reasons he encouraged them to come to the club was so their vampire fantasies could be channeled into healthy outlets. And supervised.
He enjoyed spending time talking with them. They kept him focused on hopeful and positive things, which were in short supply recently.
As always, they wore the latest in goth chic.
Genuinely pleased to see Midnight, he took the hand she offered and gave it a squeeze. This is just what I need after my interminable, wretched night. He knew she had a crush on him, so he worked hard to keep their boundaries clear. He preferred to be an older brother.
“Hi, Dev!” She broke into a huge smile, her brown eyes sparkling. “I was hoping you’d be around tonight.
“It is very nice to see you, my dear.” He bowed to the young woman, then signaled to one of the staff and said, “Please make sure my guests have enough food to eat while they are here. Give them whatever they wish, on the house.”
“Dude!” one of the boys said. “Beers for everyone!”
Devereux smiled at the familiar performance. “Anything except alcohol.”
“Wow, thanks.” Midnight clapped her hands. “You always spoil us. I’d like to move in with you.” She pressed her hand against her mouth. All the color drained from her face before pink-tinged embarrassment washed up her neck and over her cheeks for saying her secret aloud.
He grinned to put her at ease. She was so easy to read. “I am flattered.”
“Anyway,” she continued, still mentally chastising herself, “you said you wanted to hear about how my appointment with the shrink went.”
“The shrink?”
“Yeah. I told you my parents were making me see some head doctor, and you said you thought psychotherapy could be very helpful. You asked me to fill you in afterwards.”
Her reminder jarred his memory. “Ah, yes, I do, indeed remember. Well? Was it as horrible as you feared it would be?”
She shrugged and flipped her long brown hair behind her black-caped shoulder. “It was okay. Dr. Knight was younger than I expected. Kinda pretty. Easy to talk to.”
“Hmmm. Dr. Knight. That’s an interesting name. How was it spelled?”
“K-n-i-g-h-t,” like the guys in the King Arthur story. Her first name starts with a “K,” too. Kismet.”
He went totally still and lasered his gaze to Midnight’s. A shiver of excitement rushed through him. “What?”
“Yeah, Kismet. Weird name, eh? She said her parents were fans of some Broadway musical, and they named her after it.”
He cleared his throat, needing a few seconds to regain the ability to speak. “That is interesting,” he said, carefully. “Tell me about her.”
As Midnight described the doctor, noting her long dark hair, blue eyes, and pretty face, Devereux tapped into Midnight’s memories and watched her time with the doctor as if it were a movie. The most exquisite mo
vie he’d ever seen.
Could it be?
“Dev? Hey,” Midnight nudged his arm. “Are you listening?”
Devereux ratcheted his attention back to Midnight and smiled. “Yes, of course I am. I am sorry to be so distracted. I have a lot of business matters to attend to and should return to work. I hope you will not be disappointed if I leave you now.”
“Well, crap, Dev.” She frowned, but quickly rallied. “I hoped we could hang out for a while, but, sure. I understand. You have a lot on your shoulders. Maybe tomorrow night?”
“Certainly.” He started to walk away, then paused and turned back to Midnight. “You know I am very fond of you. Would you mind if I speak with this Doctor Kismet? If I share my thoughts about you and your future?”
“Er, no. I guess not,” she stammered, excited and pleased that he wanted to become more deeply involved in her life. “That would be good.”
“Well, then,” he said, “please tell the doctor that I would like to have an appointment with her.”
“Sure, I will. Thanks.”
He bowed, his platinum hair falling forward. “Excellent. I will see you soon.”
Strangely anxious, he moved quickly toward the closet, closed the door and thought himself downstairs again. Once inside his private room, he rushed to a cupboard at the far end and rifled through the contents until he found what he was seeking.
A painting.
He balanced it on an easel, pulled up chair and sat in front of it.
Staring at the canvas, his lips curved.
“Maybe it is not time for me to... stop... quite yet.”
He threw back his head and laughed with pure joy.
*********
Meet Lynda Hilburn
Lynda Hilburn writes paranormal fiction. More specifically, she writes vampire books. After a childhood filled with invisible friends, sightings of dead relatives and a fascination with the occult, turning to the paranormal was a no-brainer. In her other reality, she makes her living as a licensed psychotherapist, hypnotherapist, professional psychic/tarot reader, university instructor and workshop presenter. Her first novel, The Vampire Shrink—which introduced us to Denver Psychologist Kismet Knight and a hidden vampire underworld—was initially released in 2007 and republished (the rewritten, expanded version) by Quercus Books UK 9/2011 and Sterling Publishing/Silver Oak USA 4/2012. Book #2 in the series, Blood Therapy, releases Fall, 2012. Several more books are planned. Undead in the City, an erotic paranormal novella, Diary of a Narcissistic Bloodsucker, a satire/parody, Until Death Do Us Part, a humorous mini-story, and Devereux: The Night Before Kismet are now available in e-form from all ebook outlets. Her short story, Blood Song, is part of the Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance anthology, April, 2009. For more information, visit Lynda’s website: http://www.lyndahilburnauthor.com
Lynda loves to hear from her readers:
http://paranormalityuniverse.blogspot.com
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Devereux: The Night Before Kismet
Copyright Lynda Hilburn, 2012
Published by Lynda Hilburn, 2012
Cover art by Hot Damn Designs, 2012
EBook design by A Thirsty Mind
All rights reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the Author.
Table of Contents
The Beginning
Date #1
Date #2
Date #3
Meet Lynda Hilburn
Devereux- the Night Before Kismet Page 6