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

  “How about it, baby? The hot tub could be a helluva good time, you know what I’m sayin’?” said Johnny, lowering his voice to just above a whisper.

  “Isn’t your roommate kind of stuck up?” she asked.

  “Stephen just sent me a text while you two were going at it. He’s getting an early start on his trip back to Nashville,” said Peter, smiling wryly. “That’s how I knew to look on the web and see what was up. He mentioned the curfew restrictions would be in place before his original planned departure at six o’clock.”

  “All right,” she agreed, glancing at all of us. “But if this shit gets any worse, then we immediately come back to the dorm. Okay?”

  “Sure,” said Peter, looking over at me. “We won’t let anything happen to either of you—I promise!”

  The two guys shared mutual looks of relief so obvious that they may as well have been high-fiving over the table. This had been their plan all along. Tyreen noticed it, but let it go, as did I. We all could use some fun while the sun was still shining. With only five hours left before it got dark, we would have plenty to worry about, soon enough.

  Peter checked the time, surely realizing we didn’t have as long as we would’ve liked. He called the server over and asked for boxes and handed over his credit card. The rest of us protested and offered to give him some money to cover our food, but he just waved us off.

  We agreed to meet at Peter’s car, parked in the library parking lot after getting our swimsuits. Our suspicions about this being a setup between the boys were soon confirmed. Johnny just happened to have his trunks in his backpack.

  hat afternoon at Peter’s is one of the memories that I most cherish from those days, despite my own feelings that there was almost a desperation to our merrymaking. The hot tub was the perfect temperature and watching the steam rise into the cold air gave the whole afternoon the feeling of a dream. We ended up walking back to campus from his place because the checkpoints were already such a pain. We were being young and wild and carefree in the face of death. This made us oh-so-cool but also oh-so-naïve.

  “I told you that you should have just taken an extra set of clothes when we went over there.” There was enough concern in Tyreen’s voice to keep it from being too nagging.

  “I didn’t want to get ready for our romantic night at his place. It feels too, I dunno, domestic?” I shrugged.

  “I think you took too long getting ready.”

  Tyreen stepped in front of the door to our room as she said this, for the moment effectively blocking my escape from our dorm room. I had already showered and changed into my favorite jeans. They were torn on both knees from excessive wear, but I just couldn’t let them go—besides, they made my butt look perfect—and bundled up in the warm knit sweater Peter bought me for my birthday. He wanted to buy me something flashy and expensive, but I told him that I felt it was too early in our relationship for that sort of extravagance. Besides, I had plenty of jewelry, and the sweater would serve me well on a night where the temperature was supposed to dip into the low teens.

  “I’ll be careful, I promise,” I assured her, picking up my duffle packed with everything I’d need that night and in the morning. I grabbed my backpack and threw it over my shoulder. “Peter will meet me at the library, and we’ll walk to his place together.”

  I offered her a warm smile to sell my confidence.

  “All the way to Laurel Ave, huh? Are you both out of your frigging minds?” Her concern shifted easily to disgust. She looked so much like my mom right then, with her arms folded across her chest. “Peter should be picking you up right outside the dorm tonight in his car and not having you walk anywhere on campus to meet him!”

  I avoided eye contact and tried to get around her. “He offered to meet me here, but I preferred he wait for me at the library. Besides, there’s still a little daylight, and it won’t be dark for at least the next half hour.”

  “Have you looked outside, Txema?” She moved over to the window and pulled the drapes back. Only the last vestige of daylight was visible, and the sun had already set below the western horizon. “It’s gonna be dark in just a few minutes. You can’t go out there!”

  I understood her worry, really I did. And, she had tried in vain to get us to leave Peter’s townhouse at three o’clock that afternoon. But everyone—her included—was having such a great time in the hot tub that I didn’t want to be the party-pooper. So, it wasn’t until almost 4:00 p.m. that we got out of there. The checkpoints were already getting long so Peter just dropped us off and then turned back around after agreeing to meet me at the library. Johnny split off at Massey Hall by 4:15, and Tyreen and I raced to the fourth floor. You would think she’d cut me a little slack, since I let her win the foot race to our room.

  “I can still see some sunlight beyond the tree line, and it’s less than two blocks from here.” I prayed my smile seemed warm and unpretentious. I also tried hard to keep her from detecting my growing irritation. If we kept arguing, soon enough she’d be right, and there wouldn’t be a way to beat the encroaching darkness.

  “I’ve still got some time before things get creepy outside.”

  There, I said it. I’m sure this was what had her in a tizzy, and by then we had finally learned more about the previous night’s latest victim. The girl this time was slightly older than me and the other victim. She was a graduate student named Mary Pervalus. It took a little longer to notify her next of kin since she was from Nevada and that had delayed the release of her identify.

  “The hell you say!”

  “Just trust me, damn it!”

  She stumbled at my outburst. I pushed past her to leave the room.

  “Hey! You really shouldn’t do this—Txema, wait!” she called after me as I moved quickly to the elevator. I saw her running toward me, but then Jenny Faye stepped out of the laundry room with her arms full of clean laundry. Tyreen was blocked long enough for me to step inside the elevator and push the lobby button.

  “I’ll be all right—I promise!” I called back to her.

  The door closed as she arrived.

  “Call me!” She yelled through the elevator doors.

  “I will,” I whispered back. The car was already descending so she wouldn’t have been able to hear me anyway.

  I thought about the most recent ‘slasher-killer’ murder, but tried to push it out of my mind to think instead about the night of wanton fun I hoped to have with Peter. I needed it, and prayed he had already finished his physics homework and was ready to deliver.

  On the way outside, I noticed a campus cop standing in the lobby with a Knoxville policeman. No doubt, this was the result of the recent curfew orders. Papa would be happy. At least I could count on no boogeymen jumping out of the bushes on the way to the library, since there had to be other policemen patrolling our campus.

  Turns out, I was wrong about that.

  In the fading daylight, the brisk evening air chilled my face, forcing me to pull on my hood and fully zip my parka up to my neck. Tyreen was right. It was getting dark quick.

  I walked as fast as I could without running. Thankfully, the security lights were on throughout the area, and Hodges Library sat just a block away.

  As I reached the lawn in front of the Tyson Alumni Center, I heard something. It was a growl, low and guttural. The hairs along the nape of my neck stood on end. It sounded as if the noise came from near the Alumni Center’s entrance. I looked over and saw a pair of glowing yellow eyes that studied me from the shaded alcove. Or, maybe it was just some weird lights, and my heightened uneasiness made them look like something alive and dangerous.

  But then the strange yellow lights disappeared, and I saw a hulking form move out onto the lawn, hovering near the hedges by the center’s walkway. It seemed careful to avoid the bright security light high above, on the building’s exterior.

  I was less than twenty yards away and starting to freak out a little. I couldn’t afford to keep guessing whether or not the thing was real or ju
st some trick played by my imagination.

  So I ran. Ran like hell. Ran like hell despite lingering stiffness from my September injury and a muffled scream stuck in my throat. I may never know for sure if the thing pursued me, but I could’ve sworn I heard something scampering across the lawn, its clawed hands and feet tearing at the frost-covered grass already dead from the coming winter.

  I didn’t chance a look behind me as I sprinted across the street to the library. No cops, neither campus nor Knoxville’s finest, were in sight. And most everyone else had the good sense not to be outside. Just one dumb ass: me.

  Thankfully, Peter was there. His Camaro sat in the parking lot. He must have decided it’d be better to drive—at least one of us had come to our senses. Two if you counted Tyreen, but I was still mad at her so she didn’t count. The custom cherry-red paint and white racing stripes glistened under the streetlights. I started to slow down, but something else joined the chase from my other side.

  I saw this one, at least peripherally. And I did scream. Something huge and hairless loped on all fours as it pursued me. Its eyes were orange, like two burning fires, and long fangs protruded from the sides of its mouth like a saber-tooth tiger.

  I thought it might veer toward me and try to cut me off, but the head start I had proved enough. I raced up the stairs to the entrance, which unlike the Alumni Center was well lit. Before I stepped through the front door, I looked back at the parking lot. It was deserted. A cool breeze brushed against my face as I listened carefully. But, I heard nothing beyond my labored breaths and thudding pulse.

  I was still listening intently when someone grabbed my arm. I lashed out and my fist connected with flesh. I drew it back for another swing.

  “Whoa! Hold on there, girl!”

  Peter rubbed his shoulder and gave me an exaggerated look of pain. I hit him again, harder, and he grimaced for real.

  “Serves you right for sneaking up on me!”

  “Hey, I thought you were just standing here, waiting for me to finish my physics research,” he said, backing up in case I hit him again. “I just now came downstairs, since everybody else has already left for the night.”

  “You scared me, asshole!” I scolded him, sort of playful, sort of not.

  “Well, are you ready to get going? What in the hell were you looking at anyway? Were you running?” He looked out into the parking lot.

  “It’s nothing. I’m ready to go.”

  I took a cautious step down the stairs. There was still no sign of my pursuers. Maybe it was just a couple of wild dogs on the loose (although larger than any I’d ever seen), and the rest of what I saw had been added by the wild thoughts circling around in my head the past few days. I offered a silent prayer that it wasn’t predatory mutant vampires searching for a certain female of unusual Basque descent.

  “Would you mind if we took your car to your place, instead of walking?”

  “No babe, not at all,” he said, after looking toward the Alumni Center. His brow furrowed for a moment, and I wondered if he sensed something glowering at him, too, from the shadows across the way. But then he shrugged his shoulders, his concern giving way to a generous smile. “Let’s get you warmed up. I’ve got wood in the fireplace already, so you can relax with a glass of wine in front of a warm fire while I get dinner ready.”

  He grabbed my duffle bag and wrapped his free arm around my waist, guiding me to his car. I felt so safe with him, more than I ever had before. I didn’t even bother casting a nervous gaze around us. Not even when we lingered as he opened the door for me, and I grabbed him in a tight embrace and kissed him. Peter would protect me. Nothing could go wrong as long as he was here with me, I just knew it. I hoped he understood that’s what I felt.

  We headed north to his place, after coasting through the police roadblock. It went easier than either of us expected, and I took it as a good sign. Maybe, any other menace that seemed determined to get me would prove just as easy to avoid.

  “Now, babe, just get comfortable. I should have everything finished up in just a few minutes,” said Peter, once he and I got the fire up to a full blaze.

  A glass of zinfandel in hand, I looked around the living room. Even though I’d been here many times during the past two months, it felt different that night. Was it more of a haven? Perhaps. At least something that went beyond the amenities we shared with Tyreen and Johnny earlier. After all, a theater room and hot tub wouldn’t mean squat if what I glimpsed earlier on campus somehow found its way here.

  Better to be here than back in the dorm, even though Garvan and Armando endorsed Massey Hall as their version of a protected refuge. I guess I could say the advanced security system in the townhouse swung the pendulum to Peter’s place as my preferred locale.

  Looking back now, the prospect of unabashed sex with my man, who was right then putting the finishing touches on a delightful birthday dinner, further enhanced the sense of security.

  While waiting for Peter’s return to the living room, I turned on the TV, hoping to find something funny to take my mind off everything. I should have known it would be on CNN, since Peter was something of a news junkie. Of course, they just happened to be running their report on the latest news regarding the Knoxville killings. I should’ve switched stations, but I couldn’t resist lingering for a moment.

  Another missing girl had been added to the list of victims, although this one had disappeared two nights earlier and had only just been connected to the case. Another off-campus resident, this one lived less than three blocks away on Eleventh Street. Just like that, I didn’t feel quite as protected from harm.

  No longer interested in this kind of distraction, I turned the television back off. I looked around at the windows offering views I had so admired before and suddenly felt very vulnerable.

  Peter chose that moment to come into the living room.

  “Dinner’s ready, Txema!” he proudly announced. He looked adorable in his apron, still wearing an oven mitt. Of course, I didn’t tell him this, fearing he might never dress like it again if I did. “Please follow the chef to your table, madam!”

  I followed him into the dining room, where he had laid out a four-course meal. The filets looked delectable, along with potatoes, asparagus, and a bean casserole that was a recipe of his mom’s. He must have spent more time prepping this dinner than he did working on his physics paper.

  “Have a seat, darlin’, and we can dig in!” he beamed, and after pulling my chair out for me, he scurried over to his seat. He threw the apron and mitt on a table near the kitchen before sitting down. I had just settled in my chair and laid the napkin across my lap when he dug in to his own food, leaving me to fend for myself.

  I sighed. What a guy, huh? Well, at least the romantic thought was there for a moment. I guess his raging hunger and the close proximity of food turned him back into a typical male. Maybe that aspect would come in handy later.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked, once he finished. I still had a little ways to go with my filet.

  “It’s really good,” I told him, motioning the ‘okay’ for a refill in my wine glass. “I’m touched, hon. This was really nice!”

  “Thanks, babe,” he replied. “There’s still dessert… and more to come after that.” He raised his wine glass in salute.

  There was that smile again. My man’s dreamy eyes told me there was a lot more niceness to come.

  “I can wait for dessert,” I told him, smiling coyly. “But what else have you got in mind?”

  “Are you sure you can wait for some devil’s food?”

  “I’d rather save the devil for later tonight. As for the cake, maybe in a little while.”

  The seductive wink I added brought an immediate effect. His smile faded slightly, but the twinkle in his eyes told me his arousal would soon match mine. Everything was heading for the night of passion I hoped for. I cleared the dishes from the table and piled them up in the sink, then motioned for him to grab his wine glass and the half-empty wine b
ottle and follow me back to the living room. We had just stepped out of the dining room when the lights suddenly went out. My first thought was that the darkness was a romantic touch on his part, and my heart fluttered with anticipation.

  “What in the hell?” he murmured, setting his glass and the bottle on the coffee table. My heart dropped into my stomach.

  Shit!

  This was an unfortunate coincidence. Most likely, it was just a fuse that went out. It seemed logical when I glanced out the window and saw that Peter’s neighbors still had electricity. Then I noticed, none of the appliances were working either—anywhere on the main floor. Luckily, the fire burned brightly in the fireplace, with plenty of wood to get us through the night.

  Peter moved into the kitchen and grabbed a flashlight from the pantry. He had just rejoined me by the fire when I heard the first creaks upstairs.

  Someone was moving around in Stephen’s bedroom.

  “Nobody’s up there… right?” I hoped the softness in my voice didn’t give away my rising panic.

  “Yeah, Stephen left this afternoon. Remember?” He looked worried—definitely not a good sign.

  He moved quietly over to the stairs and pointed the flashlight up to the second floor landing. I moved up right behind him as another footstep resounded. Whoever was there was still in Stephen’s room. Peter started to climb the stairs, but suddenly a terrible feeling washed over me.

  “Don’t do it!” I whispered, with enough harshness to sound like a hiss.

  Before he could turn and respond to me, a similar hiss sounded from upstairs, followed by a low growl.

  My mind went blank.

  Stark fear will do that to you. Only continual bombardment can condition a person to function somewhat normally while in a state of unease and terror—which I’ve learned firsthand since. But at that moment, I felt paralyzed.

  “Who in the hell’s up there?” Peter shouted, his protective instincts kicking in.