The Vampires' Last Lover (Dying of the Dark Vampires Book 1) Read online

  I tried to raise my head. “Where am I?”

  Someone had moved me from the floor near our vanity mirror to the bottom bunk bed. Tyreen’s bed. Maybe it was Peter. But I did black out, so it’s possible I stumbled there myself.

  “You’re in our room, baby,” said Tyreen, gently.

  As soon as she spoke, my vision cleared. Her bright green eyes were wide with worry. It made me fear for what I looked like. I suddenly remembered the miniature crimson rivers trickling down my neck. I reached up, but she blocked my hand.

  “It’s okay… it’s okay… Shush-h-h!”

  “Babe, you’re going to be just fine,” added Peter.

  Tyreen deferred to his invasion into my personal space. If not for my disorientation, I wouldn’t have minded his closeness. He was dressed in his favorite tailored suit. It happened to be my favorite as well since it accentuated his powerful upper body. Traditional dark blue, with a burgundy tie. Nice and solid but bordering on boring. I guess that’s how I saw Peter sometimes.

  “Just relax, and lay back. That’s it. Good girl.” He spoke softly while brushing my hair back with his fingers.

  Normally, I would bristle at that last remark. But, feeling as I did, I gave in and allowed him to baby me.

  “What happened?”

  My question was directed more to my roommate than my boyfriend. Maybe I bristled just a little.

  “Peter found you lying on the floor in front of the mirror. When you wouldn’t wake up he called me,” she said. Johnny, who had been standing quietly this whole time, nodded to confirm this.

  “Well, that’s not exactly how it went down, but pretty close,” Peter said. Tyreen shot him a sharp look.

  He continued, “After you said you were coming to the door, I heard something fall over in your room. I thought you might’ve tripped on something. Maybe it was a chair or a table. Hell, it could’ve been the shoes you couldn’t find, for all I knew.”

  Honestly, this was one of the things I didn’t care for about him… this need of his to over-analyze and over-explain. At times, it made him seem like an overbearing prick. I think if he’d pay more attention to the reactions of those around him more, he’d figure out when to shut up. I don’t mean to be harsh. There are a number of qualities Peter has that I did so love about him, but sometimes he could say or do the exact wrong thing.

  “What time is it, anyway?” I asked.

  “Seven-twenty,” said Johnny, his tone devoid of the compassion of his girl, and even more prick-ish than my guy. At least he had the good sense to defer quickly once Tyreen glared at him. No doubt when Peter called her, it interrupted something intimate. Both he and Tyreen were dressed in sweats and matching UT sweatshirts that were disheveled, and neither had been wearing them when I last saw them just before Garvan’s arrival. Besides, they both had that ‘freshly fucked’ look in their eyes.

  “You were out for at least an hour,” Tyreen said, still worried. She smiled at me with a genuine look of concern.

  I’ve rarely seen a smile that can light up a room like hers. Really, when both she and her man turn it on, they look like frigging movie stars. With her big green eyes, long braids, and soft ebony complexion, she could be Beyonce’s younger sister. She certainly possesses the same sexy voice and vivacious curves. Johnny’s chiseled face and ripped physique make him look like any of the young stud rappers these days—especially when he gets a serious look in his soft gray eyes. He’s got a great sense of humor, too… just not so much that night.

  “An hour spent with you squirming around for the most part,” added Peter. Again with the obsessive need to clarify the specifics. The sincere worry and compassion in his voice made me feel a bit guilty for my earlier reaction.

  “I was ready to call the paramedics. I thought you were having a seizure or something, but Tyreen stopped me. It looks like she was right, because you did come out of whatever this thing was, but I still think you should see a doctor.”

  I tuned out most of what he was saying and just enjoyed the feel of his voice. I’ve seen other girls nearly swoon over his dimples and charming smile, but I must confess it’s the sexiness in his voice that gets me. There’s a warmth and assurance there, when he finds the right thing to say and doesn’t obsess so much. It was the positive side of nice and solid.

  “You seem a lot better now,” Tyreen said. “Just take it easy tonight and rest up, you should be fine.”

  “What about our date?” My voice was barely more than a whisper and I added, with just a touch of desperation, “It’s not too late to make it to the restaurant before they stop serving!”

  “That might be pushing it, don’t you think?” said Peter, with a note of worry in his voice.

  Little Pepino’s stayed open until eleven each night, and I knew firsthand that the kitchen remained available for patrons until midnight. I didn’t give him a chance to go on about how this was a bad idea, and sat up. The room started swimming around me again before I could even swing my legs off of the bunk.

  “See? I told y’all she can’t go anywhere tonight,” said Peter to the others. “Quit trying to encourage her. It’s best if she stays here and rests.”

  He sounded like my mysterious visitor, only worse.

  “Well, I know you two had planned a special night on the town,” said Tyreen, wearing her pained expression again while nodding. It was almost like she shared the picture in my head of my birthday celebration being sucked down into swirling drain. “We could get you two something to eat and bring it here—how about that? It might not be Little Pepino’s, but you could do worse than Olive Garden.”

  “How about a couple of pizzas and a six pack of Killian’s for us all?” Peter suggested. He looked over at me after nodding to Johnny, as if my preference for the evening’s revised agenda was an afterthought. I glared at him and he blushed. He shoved his hands into his pants pockets while nervously straightening his back with an ‘oh shit!’ look on his face.

  “Actually, I’d prefer a box of truffles and a big bottle of chardonnay,” I replied, offering what I thought was a wry smile, but was probably more of a grimace thanks to the steady throb inside my head.

  I hoped that a chocolate rush and wine would stop an oncoming migraine. Maybe a little ridiculous, but at this point, nothing sounded good, nothing but a long night of restful sleep. And yet, just an hour ago I felt totally jazzed to go out and celebrate the final phase of my teenager status. I wasn’t willing to give that up without at least the semblance of a fight.

  It made me wonder even more about my earlier visitor. His appearance on that night, on the birthday that announced the final stanza of my adolescence, definitely marked the event in a way I’d likely never forget. I shuddered at the thought that this had been the pasty stranger’s intent all along.

  “Hey, sweetie… Johnny and I should go so you two can decide how you want to spend tonight,” said Tyreen, leaning forward to kiss my forehead. “If you need anything, call me. I don’t care how late it is. I’ll leave his broke ass and be here in a minute, or go out and get anything you need.” She chuckled while Johnny scowled.

  “All right… sorry for the trouble,” I told her, smiling weakly. “We should be okay, once we figure out dinner. It was probably just low blood sugar.”

  “I’ll call you guys if her condition worsens,” Peter added, leading them to the door.

  Tyreen gave him a hug and waved to me as she did. She broke away from Peter, and Johnny rapped knuckles with him. Then he slipped his arm around Tyreen and led her out of the room.

  Peter closed the door behind them, took off his jacket and tossed it over chair. He forced a small smile, though his forehead was still creased in concern. He took out his cell phone.

  “Pizza it is,” he said as he pulled up the stored number. Like I said, solid and reliable.

  Peter stayed with me all night. Despite my earlier protests that I could handle things on my own just fine, I was actually glad he didn’t leave.

 
He ordered a pizza for us after I declined his proposal to order Chinese. I just didn’t think my stomach could handle fried pork or anything like it. As if the pizza wouldn’t wreak havoc on my system! But it was good, and I started to feel better. Not enough to go dancing as originally planned, but ready to enjoy a night of backgammon, DVDs, and snuggling with him.

  I did, however, sneak a peek in the mirror at my neck at around ten o’clock. Not only was there still no sign of the puncture wounds that drew my blood earlier, the redness around my birthmark had faded noticeably. And there was no tenderness.

  Peter sang “Happy Birthday” to me after dinner. At least I am pretty sure that is what he was going for. Luckily there were no dogs or cats present to chime in, or it might’ve been a really awful serenade. Still, his vulnerability made him so adorable. It upped the ante in regard to the push-pull tug on my heart.

  Sometimes, I thought about the tense excitement between us when we first started dating, hoping to hang onto that feeling. Such incredible intoxication! In those early days of love that tender bud of burning desire very nearly drove me mad, and even then I always suspected the feeling was even stronger in him than it was with me.

  But that night it was almost impossible to think of any romance with him or reflect upon our best intimacies since September. Instead, I found my thoughts drawn repeatedly to the pale intruder, Garvan. Garvan, the magician; or, better yet, the messenger of doom. Maybe he was just some guy who happened to portray a dashingly handsome vampire.

  A vampire?

  Such nonsense! But, for some reason, that thought made him seem more real. Worse was the fact that this single thought lifted my heart for him, and for reasons I was unable to discern. It seemed as though my blood, my very soul, drew my thoughts and attention to this stranger, while pulling a little bit more from my current beau. Not even my mysterious illness and the dried blood absorbed by a handful of Kleenex tissues in my wastebasket could dampen Garvan’s allure. Nor did his inhuman ability to appear and disappear in an instant change my attraction to him. If nothing else, I desired to find out who and what he truly was.

  What stayed most with me that night was neither the wound to my neck nor our brief conversation. It was his eyes. They were so unusual in their fiery luminance, as if fueled by some unfathomable ocean of feeling. Magnetic, dangerous, and very hard to get out of my mind.

  All of this raised other questions as well, much more worrisome. If, per chance, he were a vampire, what would he want with me, a warm-blooded human being? Other than to suck my body blood-dry I couldn’t think of a good reason. And, again, why would Garvan show up the evening of my birthday? Was that merely a coincidence?

  None of it made sense. At least, not yet. And, other questions gnawed on the edge of my consciousness.

  I shuddered again as I thought about it all, long after Peter and I said goodnight to each other and crawled into separate beds. He slept in my top bunk while I took Tyreen’s bed below. He had insisted on this arrangement, saying that if I needed to get up during the night he didn’t want me falling and hurting myself.

  Soon after midnight I heard him snore. How I longed for the same sweet solace of slumber, but the whispered voices had returned and I couldn’t help but listen. While I tried to decipher what those voices were saying, I strained my eyes watching for elusive movement in the shadows outside my window. Finally, I lost the battle to stay awake.

  t’s funny how things seem so different in the full light of day. When I awoke the next morning, the girls on my floor were already moving back and forth from the showers to their rooms. All illicit male company had quietly departed under the cover of darkness except for my guy. Peter left reluctantly, and only after I shooed him away after demonstrating I was all right. I assured him that whatever illness I suffered from the night before had left me completely. Surely, the frantic scamper around my dorm room to gather my shampoo, soap, and toothpaste helped sell the notion I was fine, as did the occasional pillow or bit of discarded clothing I threw at him.

  Tyreen returned to our room while I was showering and was sitting on her bunk when I came in after I finished. She was already dressed in jeans and her favorite beige pullover, tapping her right foot nervously.

  “C’mon girl, get your butt moving! I’m starving here.” She motioned to the rumpled bedcover of her bunk. “Looks like you worked up an appetite too.” She winked at me.

  I ignored her insinuation. “Hey, I’m sorry,” I told her, as I walked over to my dresser and put my lotion away and tucked my makeup bag under my arm. “I haven’t had a chance to make your bed yet, but I promise to do it right after I dry my hair.” I grabbed my hairdryer and brought it over to the vanity’s mirror.

  “It’s okay, honest… really, it can wait until later,” she assured me. “You seem a lot better. Are you feeling as good as you look?”

  Right then I resembled a drenched river-rat with my hair dripping on my shoulders. Her wan smile told me this wasn’t a joke at my expense. Tyreen often stated her envy of how my hair held just enough natural curl to where I didn’t need to dry it fully. I scrunched the ends to enhance that curl without even thinking about it.

  “I’m feeling much better,” I said, offering a bright smile.

  Maybe I even exaggerated it a little bit, since her foot had begun tapping again. I worked diligently to put my makeup on. “So, did you and Johnny have some fun after you left last night?”

  “We did… although I guess he didn’t care much for my little joke about leaving his ass behind if you needed me,” she said, winking and chuckling for a moment. Then she grew serious.

  There was a slight tremor in her voice as she asked “Did you hear about the murder that took place on the north side of campus last night?”

  “What?”

  I was in the process of securing my earrings when I whipped my head around to face her.

  “When did it happen?” I scarcely believed what I heard. “Was it someone we know?”

  “No, but it was a student,” she confirmed, and then sighed, deeply. “The victim lived off campus, in one of the apartment buildings off 21st Street.”

  Knoxville was far from being a crime-free city but the last murder involving UT students took place a couple of years ago. So this news came as a shock.

  “It was a girl,” Tyreen continued, her eyes misty. “Johnny turned on the news this morning to see how the Cavs did last night and they were showing her picture.” She took a trembling breath. “Txema, she looks just like you!”

  She started to weep. I may not have been as softhearted as her, but I did have compassion for others. Especially for her. I rushed over and threw my arms around her. She bawled on my shoulder while I held her tight.

  “Damn it, I really thought something bad had happened to you—that you somehow bullheaded your way into making Peter take you out after all!” said Tyreen between sobs.

  “It wasn’t until Johnny told me her name—some other weird name like yours, but different—that I settled down. I thought I was going to have a heart attack—really, I did!”

  I didn’t know how to respond to this, or even if I could. When I opened my mouth to say something, my throat constricted. All I thought of was Garvan’s warning. Someone waited outside—somewhere on campus, and intended to take my life. How could this killing not be related, especially if the victim looked a lot like me?

  When I awoke that morning, to warm sunlight pouring into our dorm room, my first thought was about the previous night’s craziness and I had tried to make sense of it. Garvan was just some handsome weirdo who happened to sneak into my room—maybe while Tyreen and I were in class across campus. I felt incredibly foolish for assuming something as outlandish as a vampire had visited me. I had almost convinced myself that I had simply tripped over my shoes and hit my neck somehow. It really bummed me out that my birthday celebration plans got botched like that.

  Now I wasn’t so sure what happened. Garvan might be more than what I passed him off a
s. Regardless of anything else, I had to accept the reality that he might’ve saved my life.

  “Well… are you going to say something or just let me carry on like this by myself?” said Tyreen, when all I could do was shake my head. “It really could’ve been you, you know!”

  “When did the murder take place?” There, I said something.

  “Johnny said the police don’t know the exact time, but I’m sure it happened after we came to check on you,” she said, pausing to take a deep breath. She was regaining her composure.

  “Did the police say how it happened?”

  Tyreen shook her head, and patted me on the shoulder, letting me know she was ready to get up.

  “No… just that the girl was attacked and killed.” She gathered her purse and backpack and headed toward the door. “Are you coming? We can talk about this later. I’m sure we’ll learn a lot more as the day goes on.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” I agreed. Really, I didn’t want to speculate any further, as my head already swam with a plethora of questions. Concentration during my morning classes, English Lit and Poli-Sci, would present enough of a challenge. “Let’s go eat.”

  rma Goizane. That was the victim’s name.

  Strange name, like mine, and like Ybarra, Goizane is Basque.

  Tall, slender, light skin, dark hair, and green eyes—she looked a lot like me. Not as athletic as me, perhaps, which is probably the reason she couldn’t fend off her attacker. Her throat was torn out so viciously that her head was barely attached to her body. You would expect her body to be in a pool of blood with that kind of wound, but there was hardly any at the crime scene. The police thought it meant she was killed somewhere else. However, I know now that she died exactly where they found the body.

  “Thank God you got sick last night, Txema,” said Tyreen, once we had all the information about the victim and what happened to her. “I’m really scared. It could’ve really been you!”