Help! I’m Falling for the Vampire Next Door Book One of the “Paranormal Lovers of St. Louis” series Celine Chatillon (c) 2006
Help! I’m Falling for the Vampire Next Door Book One of the “Paranormal Lovers of St. Louis” series Celine Chatillon Published 2006 ISBN 1-59578-229-X Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2006, Celine Chatillon. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Manufactured in the United States of America Liquid Silver Books http://LSbooks.com Email:
[email protected] Editor Vikky Bertling Cover Artist LW Perkins This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Chapter One “Ohmigosh! It’s a bat! A bat! Get out! Get out!” Melynda Kerpanik grabbed the broom standing in the corner of the emptied warehouse floor and started swatting at the flying nuisance. She wasn’t scared of the thing. Well, not exactly. After all, the sinister black, rabies-infested, flying rat was one of God’s creatures, too. But the idea that she was going to be sharing her home with a bat for the next three months caused a shiver of ungodly cold to rocket up her spine, and at five-foot-nine, it was more like an avalanche than a shiver. She certainly didn’t need anymore stress in her life. This job was supposed to alleviate it—not aggravate it. She took another good swing at the squeaking mammal, guiding it toward a slightly ajar window. “Why did I ever let you talk me into this insane idea, Shelby Schwartz? I’ll never be able to fix this dump up. I’ll never be able to pay you back. You have a lot of explaining to do when you get here.” Mel sighed, lowering the broom as her unwelcome visitor beat a hasty retreat toward a corner. She knew it wasn’t all Shelby’s fault that she was looking forward to spending the summer in a dilapidated brown brick warehouse in St. Louis. After all, Mel was the one who found herself homeless—and jobless—after the finalization of her divorce. Her options were few and far between. Only a total idiot would pass up an offer of a place to live and a chance to prove her artistic talent. “I’m so suggestible, so damn easily manipulated,” Mel muttered, feeling frustrated with herself. “No wonder that Vegas hypnotist could make me recite the Pledge of Allegiance backwards while balancing that larger than life, glow-in-the-dark dildo on my head.” “Mel, my dear, darling cousin, I’m here.” Shelby’s voice resonated from the floor below a few moments later. “You’ll have to send the freight elevator back down. I can’t climb the stairs in these killer heels.” “One… minute… Shel … I… have… to…” A quick jab of the handle end and the bat got the message. It squeaked through the window opening and out into the dying sunlight of freedom. She bent over to catch her breath before shuffling over to hit the down switch. “All right. The elevator’s coming.” “What’s all the fuss up here?” Shelby stepped out of the old cage contraption, put down her briefcase and kicked off the matching Italian leather shoes. She looked oddly at the upside-down broom in her cousin’s hand. “I thought you were sweeping the floors— not the ceiling beams of cobwebs.” “Actually, I did a little of both.” Mel parked the broom by the switch and rubbed her dusty palms on the back of her faded T-shirt and worn jeans. “Did you know this floor already had an occupant?” Shelby’s big blue eyes bulged in her pale round face. “You mean squatters?” Mel tossed her black waist-length ponytail over her shoulder and laughed. “Real estate tycoons! Is that all you ever think about? Not getting your month’s rent?” Shelby shrugged. “It’s important.” “What I meant is there was a bat living up here. I’ve shooed him out, though. Hopefully, he’s not a family man.”
“How could you tell it was a male?” “Instinct.” Mel spun around on her dusty pink Converse high-top sneakers and crossed over to the open window to shut it. “There. I don’t want him flying back in here. I need my beauty rest.” “You don’t have to sleep here tonight.” Shelby took Mel’s large hands in her smaller ones, patting them as if she was the older of the two cousins instead of being three months younger. “You’ve always got a bed at my and Graham’s place. Don’t you like the attic room in our townhome?” Mel coughed—twice. Once to gain time and once to rid her lungs of the afternoon’s accumulation of dust particles. She gently slipped from her cousin’s grasp and began to pace the open warehouse floor. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate her cousin—she did. And it wasn’t that she didn’t like the little attic bedroom in Shelby’s newly renovated home in the Soulard district— she did. What she didn’t care for was not having a place of her own. Damn it! She was thirty-one years old and newly divorced. She needed her own space, her own privacy, her own life. She needed to prove to that stupid ex of hers that she could make it on her own in the interior decorating business, that she didn’t have to teach kindergartners how to finger paint ever again. Most of all, Mel needed a home of her own to create in, to relax in, to be her normally messy self in. Graham and Shelby were typical straight-laced business types suffering from an obsessive-compulsive cleanliness disorder. They threatened to keel over in a dead faint if she failed to put the toothpaste cap back on the tube. Mel couldn’t take that kind of stress anymore after living with them for two weeks. She had to get out. “I adore your brownstone, Shel, but the deal was that I move into this old warehouse and help you turn it into glamorous apartment lofts for rich city dwellers. I can’t design and paint in my head—I need room to do that in, and I need inspiration, too. What better place is there for me to live than the building I’m helping to redecorate?” “But it’s so … so desolate.” Mel stopped her pacing. “Well, yes it is. But it won’t be for long. The carpenters are coming to drop a few walls tomorrow, right? I’ll have a proper front door then. And then the plumbers will get the bathroom and kitchen plumbed and the electricians can do the wiring while I’m painting by sunlight.” “There aren’t any heat ducts installed yet,” Shelby protested. “It’s summer in St. Louis. I won’t freeze. In fact, if I don’t open the windows I’ll die from the heat and humidity. I guess I’ll have to chance Mr. Bat flying back in here to hang in the rafters.” “Then you’ll need some kind of window screens. I’ll talk to the contractor about getting those put in first thing.” Mel wrapped her arms around her cousin in a bear hug. “Now, you’re talking, cuz.” Shelby stiffened, then took a step backward and quickly brushed her navy suit jacket clean. “It’s not that I don’t love ya, Melynda, but you’re a filthy mess. Where are you going to bathe until the bathroom is completed?” “Your place?” “I guess so. Your only other alternative is to borrow Mr. Drackle’s shower downstairs. And even though he’s an artist like yourself, I’m not sure he’d appreciate
your intrusion.” Mel’s eyes narrowed. “You saying he’s gay?” Shelby bit her lip in thought. “No, I don’t think so. But he’s not a real sociable person. He barely said three words to me when I told him my cousin was going to fix up the top floors for me to sell. I guess he thought he’d have this entire warehouse to himself forever and ever.” “He lives in the basement?” Mel couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to live in the basement of a warehouse. When Shelby had informed her that the building already had an occupant—and that he lived in the basement—she had assumed the man must be an old codger missing a few loose screws. Now she wasn’t so sure. “He told me living in a cellar helps with his photography. You know what I mean. He’s got a darkroom. He says sunlight ruins the film and all that. But I’ve rarely seen him outside any earlier than dusk, and he’s got a sign on his door that says ‘Do Not Disturb’ all day long.” “A real night owl, you’d say?” “Definitely. Like, he’s the most perfect specimen of manhood I’ve ever seen, but he’s a first-class hermit.” She gently elbowed Mel’s side and winked. “I guess artists, on the whole, are prone to depression and psychotic tendencies, right?” Yes, but only slightly less than business types, Mel thought, remembering how green Graham’s face had turned when she stuck the peanut butter knife back into the jelly jar while making sandwiches. She winked and gave her cousin a patronizing nod. “Don’t worry. I’ll respect your first tenant’s privacy. I can understand a photographer wanting peace and quiet—and space—to be creative in.” “You two should get along famously then.” Shelby dusted off the elbow of her jacket where it had touched Mel’s grimy shirt and then shook the dirt loose of her hands. “Well, I’d better be getting home and checking up on Graham. Don’t forget our garden hose is yours for the asking.” **** “It’s just the shadow of a cloud passing over the moon,” Mel told herself for the hundredth time, pulling the covers over her chin. “There are absolutely no ghosts haunting this warehouse. There are no ghosts, bats, or other things that go bump in the night in this building…” Settling down under the quilt, she said a quick prayer and screwed her eyes shut. She had to get used to living in this old place. She had to get used to the moan of the floorboards and the howl of the wind rushing against the old windowpanes. The construction workers couldn’t eliminate all of the noises of a hundred year old building stuck in the middle of a two hundred forty year old city. Besides, the creaks and squeaks gave the place “charm”, right? Luckily for her, she had garnered most of the furniture she and Ken had accumulated in their five year mistake of a marriage. Their old mattress and box spring were a bit lumpy but tolerable. It was nice to retrieve her belongings out of storage where they’d been kept for the past few weeks while she decided how she wanted to live her life postdivorce. She knew she should be eternally grateful to have a good friend like her cousin Shelby, someone willing to go out on a limb and hire an untested, unemployed artist to renovate her latest real estate acquisition.
After all, the St. Louis Yellow Pages practically overflowed with interior decorators and architectural renovation firms. Shelby could have hired any number of people. Mel had to do a good job—not just to prove to herself and her ex that she was capable of making a living, but to prove to the world she possessed more than just a winsome smile and a cool white streak running down the center of her long, blue-black hair. She possessed true artistic talent. The whine of the freight elevator’s motor interrupted her vain attempts at sleeping. “What the…” Mel sat up and stared at her alarm clock sitting on an old crate beside the mattress. “It’s friggin’ three o’clock in the morning! What the hell is he taking photos of at three o’clock in the morning?” Disgusted and fully awake, Mel rose and shuffled over to the front windows. One good thing she could say about old warehouses being turned into lofts was the fact that there were plenty of windows to allow natural light to stream in. Tonight’s full moon made this architectural bonus even more obvious. Peering down from the second floor to the main entrance of the building, Mel caught sight of a tall, dark figure exiting. His slightly longer than shoulder-length dark hair was casually tied back like hers had been earlier, but there was no mistaking that this figure was a man. All man. Broad shoulders and a muscular backside were consummately displayed under a tight, white T-shirt and butt-hugging jeans. Hulking big black biker boots completed her neighbor’s ensemble. He sauntered across the parking lot, every stride full of power and grace … and something else that drew her eyes to his form. Animal magnetism perhaps? A camera bag on one arm and a tripod tucked under the other only testified to the fact that he wasn’t a late night criminal looking for a car to steal or a home to break into. He really was a photographer shooting night pictures. Her eyes followed his nice ass to a sporty black pick-up with a big Harley-Davidson logo painted on the tailgate parked a little way down the street. Sheesh! She’d thought she had left the good ol’ boys and their big pick-em-up trucks with gun racks back in Kansas. Her neighbor’s choice of transportation proved to be more than just a macho attempt to impress yokels, however. His tripod and camera bag fit neatly in the hold beside other boxes which probably held props and other camera gear. Mel sighed. Too bad she hadn’t caught a good look at this dark Adonis’s face. His backside looked nice—real nice. “Okay, now what. I’m awake and horny and it’s three a.m. What can I do?” Since her vibrator was out of batteries she headed toward her meager stash of food and rummaged around in the boxes for a breakfast bar instead. Ripping the paper, she bit into the snack before she knew what flavor it was. “Ugh!” She turned and spit the offensive morsel out into a grocery bag she was using as a trash receptacle. “Strawberry-banana. Ken’s favorite. I guess I packed up everything in the pantry without checking the labels. Oh, well. Maybe I can pass the box along to my neighbor downstairs?” My neighbor. Suddenly Mel was overcome with curiosity. What kind of photographs did her neighbor take? Moonlit cityscapes? St. Louis’s famous Gateway Arch covered in gleaming sterling silver definitely made an interesting night subject. Or was this Drackle-guy into something more nefarious? Photography of a different kind that people who lived in the light wouldn’t approve of… Was he a pornographer?
Did he run a web site for pedophiles and other perverts? Was she living atop a known criminal wanted by the FBI for trafficking in illicit images of juveniles? Perhaps he wasn’t a photographer at all, and his camera gear was just a front. He could be a trafficker in human souls, a gang-member, a modern-day slave runner kidnapping and selling girls into sexual slavery. She had read an article recently online on that very subject. The reporter had claimed that the crime was more widespread than the authorities thought. And Shel had said that Drackle acted extremely anti-social. Mel’s mouth turned bone dry. She grabbed her water bottle and took a long gulp. She knew she was letting her sleep-deprived wits get the best of her, but she had to find out who was living next door to her. She had to know more about her neighbor. She slipped into her cranberry-colored silk bathrobe and matching flip-flops, and headed toward the stairs, only pausing to retrieve a small screwdriver and a small flashlight from her trusty toolbox. She’d find out exactly who was living in the basement apartment. She’d put her fears at ease. Reaching the first floor, she turned into a side passageway and maneuvered down an even narrower staircase until she came face-to-face with his door. The “Do Not Disturb” sign wasn’t present. “I guess it’s okay for me to knock then—and try the handle a little.” The door slowly drifted open. Mel’s heart skipped a beat. “Dang… The guy doesn’t even lock his door. He’s either very trusting or an ax murderer.” She slipped the screwdriver into her robe pocket and tip-toed into the room, shining the flashlight into the far corners. It appeared to be an ordinary living room—a bit on the cluttered, single-guy décor side, but an ordinary enough space. The black lacquered end tables and white leather sofa were nice touches. “Okay, so he doesn’t have school girls chained to the walls. But I’ve got to check out the whole place just to be sure.” She gulped hard and carefully made her way through piles of unfolded laundry and stacks of glossy art house-style magazines until she found the kitchen. Ordinary too. She opened the refrigerator and looked inside. “Ew! A whole carcass of red meat and soup bones and beer, too. Definitely a bachelor. I guess he’s into the Atkins Diet or something.” She shut the fridge door and checked out the doors to the right and left of the kitchen. The bathroom said “single guy” all over it. Towels congregated on the floor and toothpaste crusted on the sink. The mirror was completely obliterated under a layer of soap scum. However did he part his hair? The other door’s sign announced “Darkroom: Knock First”. Mel gently pushed the door open and switched on the red gel-covered light. Black and white photos hung drying from a line across the narrow room. Cityscapes and unusual angles of the Arch and a myriad of river shots. The Mississippi glowing like a river of gems in the moonlight as late night barges floated silently past. Lightning bolts streaking across the sky like some kind of twisted wire slicing the world in half. “Looks like your typical darkroom. The guy has real talent.” Mel sighed. “Why did I think he was a pornographer?” Because you haven’t found his bedroom yet, an inner voice warned her. Don’t make too rash a decision about a stranger until you’ve got all the facts. Remember how naïve you were when you were dating Ken? Get wise, girlfriend! Check his bedroom out.
She backed out of the small darkroom and switched off its light. Shining her flashlight down a small hallway she caught sight of the laundry area and two doors. “Door number one or door number two?” She chose the door on the right and boldly opened it. How anti-climatic. It was his home office—computer set-up, books galore, papers and news clippings and magazine articles strewn across a wide desk. All photography related materials as far as she could tell. Nothing scary here. Mel turned around to check out the other door. To her great surprise, it was locked. Her pulse raced and her breathing grew shallow. Slowly, she retrieved the screwdriver from her pocket, stuck the flashlight under her chin and began to work on the lock. “How strange. The front door he leaves off the latch, but he locks his bedroom door. Now, what could be behind this door that he doesn’t want people to get into—or get out of?” “What indeed?” a deep voice answered as large hands captured her own. The screwdriver slipped from Mel’s fingers as the flashlight tumbled to the floor. “What indeed.”
Chapter Two Val Drakul had two choices. He could either sink his fangs deep into the flesh of this woman’s luscious, lithe neck—and dispose of her deliciously curvy body later—or he could ask his attractive, half-dressed, uninvited guest to sit down and stay awhile. He chose the latter. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” Val said, letting go of his prey and switching on the hall light. “I’m Val Drakul. You must be my new neighbor upstairs. Shelby’s cousin, right?” Her face paled as he led her toward the living area. Her cat-green eyes widened with fear and surprise. “Y-yes. I’m M-Mel… Melynda Kerpanik.” She stuck out an unsteady hand to shake. Her skin felt velvet soft and warm to the touch. Val clenched his jaw, fighting back an almost insatiable urge to taste her. “And it’s not what you think,” she continued. “I heard this awful noise so I came down to investigate and…” “You just happened to notice my door was unlocked?” Val raised one dark eyebrow and chuckled. “So you entered my abode to make sure if everything was all right—is that correct?” She nodded. He motioned for her to sit down beside him on his leather couch. Slowly she bent her knees and relaxed against its cool, smooth surface. “That was very neighborly of you, Ms. Kerpanik.” “Uh, thanks. You can call me ‘Mel’ if you like.” The blush on her high cheekbones enchanted him. The white streak in her part, dividing her waist-length black hair like a skunk’s stripe, he found sexy, too. “I used to live next to a little old lady who had this awful tendency of falling and breaking her hip,” she continued. “So I tend to act first and ask permission later.” “That’s an admirable trait, Mel.” He frowned, although his dark eyes continued to scan her curves. “‘Mel’ sounds like a man’s name, and you most definitely aren’t a man. I shall call you Melynda instead. Is that all right?” She swallowed hard. “Please do.” “I know I really shouldn’t say a word about your nickname when mine is ‘Val’. I get tons of junk mail addressed, ‘Valerie’. Very few men are named ‘Valentine’ these days. I suppose I should change it.” “No, I wouldn’t. It’s a good, strong name. And I love the holiday.” “Really?” He smiled and settled back in his seat. This Melynda person was definitely worth getting to know better even if she was a mere mortal. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked. She shook her head no. “That’s okay. I’m probably out of everything except beer any how.” She grinned nervously. “Typical bachelor.” “Yes, I am. And I do have an appalling habit of not locking my doors at times. I don’t expect too many night visitors, so when I go out on a shoot I forget to throw the bolt.” “A shoot?” “Photos. I’m a photographer.” “Yes, so Shelby told me. I noticed some fantastic cityscapes in your darkroom.”
He lifted one curious eyebrow. “Why, thank you. Do you happen to have one of my calendars?” “Calendar?” Her green eyes widened. “You posed for a calendar?” “No, I don’t model.” The endearing blush crept up her cheeks once again. She demurely pulled her robe tighter across her more-than-ample breasts. Val forced his hungry gaze away from his attractive guest’s obvious charms and returned to discussing the topic at hand. “I shoot a yearly cityscape calendar of St. Louis. Would you like one? I have several promotional copies in my study.” “Oh, yes, I’d love one.” Val rose and swiftly exited the living area before Mel could exhale her long-held breath. What the hell am I doing chitchatting with my devastatingly handsome neighbor at three in the morning? She was certifiably mental, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She was hooked. The man couldn’t get any better looking if he tried. Even his name sounded sexy: Drah-kool. The way he said it sent orgasmic sparks zinging along her spine. She couldn’t quite place the accent, but wherever he was from originally the women there were mighty fortunate. His muscular backside had intrigued her in the moonlight, but now that she could enjoy his face close up his aquiline profile fascinated her to no end. Dark, obsidian eyes glowed with an inner spark above chiseled cheekbones and a smooth, square jaw line. When he looked at her it was as if he could see right through her and glimpse the throbbing pulse of her heart. His wavy, shoulder length, jet-black hair was to die for. His slightly olive skin tone denoted perhaps some Mediterranean or Eastern European ancestry? Either way, it was amazing Hollywood hadn’t scooped up a stud like him and put him in pictures. Sex appeal—Val Drakul simply overflowed with it. His full lips looked like they were made to kiss and to be kissed—passionately and frequently. And his smile? Closed mouth yet quirky. Like he laughed with confidence at all life threw at him and then some. Like he knew his own mind. Like he enjoyed a good beer, a good smoke, a good woman… Mel pulled her silk robe tighter across her peaking breasts. The mere thought of making love to Val Drakul made her knees turn to Jell-O. It had been too long—way too long—since she’d been with a man. That damn cheating ex of hers had gotten it from both her and his man-stealing girlfriend for a time, but she’d been living the life of a nun since their marriage broke up. Her luscious-buns neighbor probably didn’t suffer at all in that particular department. She didn’t want his pity. There was no need for Val Drakul to learn that she was a lonely, undersexed, unemployed art teacher from Kansas. She had to get out of here. She’d take her free calendar, wish him goodnight and run the hell back upstairs before she wet his nice leather couch thinking how amazing he must look without his clothes on. “Here you go.” Mel stood as Val returned to the living room and handed her a large, glossy calendar. “About half are in color and half in black and white. I prefer the black and white shots myself, but the publisher always insists on at least six of the twelve in
color.” Mel flipped through the pages, mesmerized by his talent and technique. In the thrill of discovering another artist’s work, she completely forgot about her desire to depart. “Absolutely breathtaking! They’re simply beautiful. I love your black and white photos, too. Has Shelby talked to you about doing some art photography for the lofts upstairs?” Val looked decidedly uncomfortable for a split second before his charming smile reasserted itself. “Yes, she has. But I declined. I have more than enough business with the calendar shots, my own gallery showings and the occasional freelance opportunity. Maybe some other time.” “Too bad. I was thinking of doing at least one of the lofts up in a cool black, white and metallic gray scheme and your photos would be superb accents. You sure you won’t reconsider? They wouldn’t have to be new photos—they could be reprints.” She turned back to October’s picture of a huge, blood-red harvest moon hanging over the Arch, illuminating it and the river beyond with an eerie orange glow. “I could really see this photo blown up to a good wall-picture size hanging over a dining table.” Quick, like a cat, he stood beside her, glancing over her shoulder. Mel shivered slightly at his nearness and felt the dampness between her legs growing. “Ah, yes. That’s one of my favorites. I wouldn’t mind seeing my Halloween photo framed and hanging on a wall rather than in just a calendar. Let me talk to my publisher about the reprint rights.” “Fantastic.” She beamed a smile in thanks at him. “It will make my decorating job that much easier.” “No promises. But I will try,” he said softly. Mel turned slightly, examining the handsome visage mere inches from her own. Those lips … those eyes. She could see herself taking Val’s strong chin in her hand and tilting his head just a little toward hers and then… Vivid images of her and her newly introduced neighbor moving together as one between satin sheets flooded her mind. It was as if their joining had already happened—or would happen—and she had no control of how fate would bring them together for better or worse. “Melynda? Are you all right?” Concern etched itself across his features. He reached out to touch her shoulder. “Me? I’m fine.” She shook her head and rubbed her temples, inching away from him. The disturbing feeling of déjà vu quickly passed. She’d only been in the Twilight Zone for a few seconds this time. Why she hadn’t outgrown these occasional psychic daytrips was beyond her. “It’s late, and I’m not thinking too clearly. I’d better go now.” “Yes, you’d better. Unless…” “Unless?” She looked deep into his eyes and then she knew—she could never leave him. “Unless you’d feel safer staying here tonight.” His rich baritone enveloped her like a cloud, drawing her further into its mists; his intense, dark eyes plumbed the depths of her soul. “I mean, this is an old building and there are lots of strange noises. The vast majority of them are innocuous, but…” He shrugged. She swallowed hard, licking suddenly dry lips. “You mean there’s something in the building that isn’t harmless?”
“Yes. Me.” Mel burst out laughing. “Oh, Val… You’re such a comedian. You had me going there for a moment.” He grinned and crossed his arms across his broad, sculptured chest. “I did? Funny, I wasn’t joking.” “See?” She covered her mouth to quiet her giggles. Her nerves were getting the better of her. She started toward the door. “There you go again. I’d better crawl into bed—I mean, get into my own bed and go to sleep now. Goodnight. Nice meeting you.” “Goodnight, Melynda. I look forward to talking to you again sometime. Sweet dreams.” “You, too. ‘Night.” Mel raced up the stairs in five seconds flat and slammed the door shut. “Whew! Whatever is the matter with me?” She headed toward the bedroom area and tossed her robe aside before slipping into the cool sheets. “I almost didn’t leave. I nearly took a total stranger up on his offer to spend the night with him. It felt like I had no choice about the matter … that I was being compelled to stay with him. And I wanted to be with him. I really did.” Mel rolled to her side and sighed, punching the pillow next to her for good measure. “Ridiculous! I’m acting like some love struck teenager. I’ve gone completely off my rocker.” She punched the pillow again. “Thanks a helluva lot, Kenneth Kerpanik. You’ve screwed up both my brain chemistry and my life. I’ll never have a normal relationship with a male again. Grr! Goodnight!” **** Val retrieved the light meter and cord he had forgotten earlier and headed back out to his truck. He had to get the shot lined up just right to take advantage of the moonlight or else it would be another month before he could attempt the photo with any degree of success. He tried hard not to think of his new neighbor as he drove north on Riverview toward the Old Chain-of-Rocks Bridge and his planned photo shoot. But her luscious curves, her full red lips, her lustrous long black hair and sparkling emerald eyes taunted him. He wanted Melynda so badly even now the evidence of his desire strained against his jeans. And he wanted her more than just for the pleasure her body could give him and the revitalizing sustenance of her blood. He had felt a psychic connection building between them. It had been many years since he had experienced this type of reaction to a woman. She was so open to him. Was she destined to become his partner in eternity, his forever bride? Her words continued to play over and over again in his thoughts: You mean there’s something in the building that isn’t harmless? Val gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I am not harmless, dear Melynda. I am harmful. And I desperately want you near me, beside me, with me—always.” The taste of her fresh blood … the scent of her sex … the rapid beat of her heart… Yes, yes! He’d have her. He’d make her like him.
“No—no!” He smacked the steering wheel in disgust. “Never again. Run, Melynda—run and don’t look back. So full of laughter and imagination, you belong to the land of the living … not the world of the undead.” **** “Thanks for bringing me down to Laclede’s Landing tonight, cuz.” Mel cupped her hands and shouted over the last ringing chord of Billy Joel’s classic Piano Man. “I can see now why this street is such a tourist attraction. I’ve never been to a piano bar before, much less one with dueling pianos.” “What’d you say?” Shelby motioned for the waitress to bring another round of beer. “You’ve never been to a bar? Now, that’s an outright lie Melynda Kerpanik, and you know it. I caught you falling down drunk many a time at Mizzou.” Mel shook her head at both Shelby and the waitress. One of them had to remain sober enough to get them home all right. Just as she was about to open her mouth and correct her tipsy cousin, the two musicians on stage launched into their next song, a rollicking, ribald version of Elton John’s Saturday’s Night All Right for Fighting. Mel sighed. She could understand why Graham hadn’t wanted to come along with them. Although the piano players at the Atomic Bomb were excellent, the sound bouncing off the red brick walls was deafening. Three years of marriage and her fast track to business success hadn’t taken the party animal entirely out of Shelby Schwartz, however. “I’m goin’ up to the stage and give’ em a tip and my song shuggestion.” Shelby’s blue eyes were on the bloodshot side from the abundant cigarette smoke, her words slightly slurred. “Wanna come with?” “No thanks. I’ll guard our drinks.” “Suit yourself.” Mel grinned her escort off and then slowly turned around to check out the action at the bar behind her. There were a few lookers nursing beers and scanning the crowd for a good time, but none could compare in sheer magnetic male presence to her night owl neighbor. Val Drakul had gotten under her skin. Mel couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be with another man ever again. It had been three days since their brief meeting—all right, three days after he’d caught her red-handed breaking into of his place—and all she could do was daydream about the man. Nightdream, too. Just comparing the macho types standing at the bar to Val was a joke. Just thinking about her tall, dark, hunky neighbor made her panties wet… How wrong would it have been to take him up on his kind offer to spend the night? “My song’s coming up in a few minutes.” Shelby plopped into her chair and took a long sip of her beverage. “Ah, cold beer hits the spot on a hot night.” Her eyes narrowed, considering Mel beside her. “How come you haven’t made contact with any of the solo stud muffins circulating about the joint?” Mel shrugged. “Because the vast majority of them are conventioneers or business types in town for one night only.” “So? Who says you have to go from being a married woman to being a married woman? Can’t a gal have a little short-term fun now and then? What’s the harm in that?” Mel frowned. “Sounds like you’ve been cheating on Graham.”
Shelby slammed down her mug. “Never. Graham is my honey-bunny, cutie-pie. It’s not like I’m a saint. ThTherThere are… temptations… in my line of work. I’ve met some rather good-looking, beefcake realtors in my time.” “It’s ‘look don’t touch’ for you, though, right?” “Right on that, sistah.” Mel smiled then took a short sip of beer. Although Shelby had always tried to act like a wild-woman, she was, at heart, a loyal and steady companion. One night stands didn’t appeal to her, either. Mel glanced around the bar and scoped out the “stud muffins” one last time to see if any held out a possibility. Her heart began to beat wildly when she caught sight of a tall, dark, long-haired individual in tight jeans and a T-shirt with his back to her standing in the corner. “Do you think that’s … that’s Val?” she whispered. “What?” Shelby spun around in her seat to see what Mel was staring at. “Hey, that guy over there looks like my cave-dweller, Val Drackle.” She stood up and waved. “Val, is that you? Get your cute ass over here.” “Sit down!” Mel yanked her cousin into her seat by her shirt tails. Several moments later, the man at the bar turned around. He sported a full, bushy, gray-streaked beard and an eye patch to boot. Luckily, he hadn’t heard or seen Shelby’s outburst. “I don’t think that’s our boy,” Shelby said, shaking her head. “Too bad. The man is absolutely gorgeous.” Mel took a deep breath and steadied her jangled nerves. “Yes, he is.” A blonde eyebrow shot up. “You’ve met him?” “Uh-huh. A couple of nights ago. He’s very friendly once you get him talking.” “Talking?” Shelby whistled. “Wow, I am impressed with how fast you work, cuz. I shouldn’t be too surprised. You always were a guy magnet.” “Me? You’ve gotta be kidding. I dated Ken all through high school and Mizzou. Sure I had a lot of guy friends, but there were like brothers to me.” “Sure they were.” Shelby took another sip of beer. “Tell me more about Val.” Uncomfortable with the topic, Mel couldn’t quite meet her gaze. “What’s there to tell? I ran into him the other night, and he graciously showed me his calendar.” “Really?” Shelby began to chuckle. “Never heard it called that before!” Mel lightly punched her cousin on the upper arm. “Get your mind out of the gutter. We had a neighborly chat and that’s it.” She sighed. “Still…” “You can’t seem to get him off your mind?” “You’re psychic, Shel. That’s it exactly. The man haunts my every waking moment and my dreams.” “Tsk, tsk. You’ve got it bad, cuz.” She patted Mel’s hand and nodded. “And what’s really awful is that Val’s like this vampire type of guy, the original night person, and you, on the other hand, are very much a day person. It’s a classic case of opposites attract.” “Yes, ironic isn’t it.” Mel threw up her hands in mock surrender. “Help! I’m failing for the vampire next door … and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Chapter Three “A little over to the left… There, no there. Perfect!” The two-by-four fitted exactly as planned into the room partition and was immediately pounded into place. Day five of the loft renovation and Mel felt like an expert carpenter. She had picked up a hammer and nails and had jumped right into the fray. Her co-workers didn’t seem to mind her help—just as long as she didn’t tell on them to their top boss. After all, this was a union job. “Quitting time,” Ray the site foreman announced. “We’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow afternoon at this pace. Thanks for your assistance, Ms. Kerpanik.” “You’re welcome. And it’s ‘Mel’. Only my art students ever called me ‘Ms. Kerpanik’ and most of them were only five or six.” Mel sighed at the memory then waved good-bye to the construction workers as they shuffled toward the freight elevator and out of sight. Here it was the third week of June and she missed the little brats already. Would she ever land another teaching position? Fat chance, if Ken had anything to do about it—and of course he would have, being that he was her ex-principal, as well as, her ex-husband. She put down her hammer and walked toward the front bank of windows. Today they’d opened them all and turned on fans full blast, and still the heat lingered. At least Mr. Bat was notably absent. Had she scared him off for good? Val’s truck was parked out front on the narrow side street beneath an old gnarly oak tree. Was her neighbor truly a night owl, or did he park it there and hitch rides on Metrolink during the daylight hours to save on parking? She hadn’t seen him in almost a week now. How odd. Didn’t night owls make an occasional daytime appearance now and then? “Maybe he shops at one of those twenty-four hour Schnucks supermarkets?” she said aloud, thinking that it was high time she went grocery shopping herself. The electrician had wired up the kitchen earlier today and the appliances would be delivered tomorrow. The plumber was almost through with putting in the waterworks, too. Once this particular loft was somewhat in functioning order maybe she could invite her handsomely antisocial neighbor over for dinner. “What would I make for him to eat? All I can tell from that quick look in his fridge was that he’s a red meat eater. Good. So am I. We could grill steaks. I wonder—did I manage to get that little grill away from dear ol’ Ken, bless the bastard’s soul…” Mel headed down to the first floor where her patio furniture had been stored in a large space that Shelby had said was slated to be divided into an exercise area and a party room for future loft residents. She unlocked the padlock on the door of what had been the front offices of the old warehouse and entered. Something didn’t quite seem right. The hair rose on the back of her sweat-drenched neck and an ominous tingle zinged along her nerve endings. An aroma of mystery as well as dry rot permeated the air. Weird, she hadn’t felt that way the day she had helped Graham and a couple of his less wimpy pals lug her bike and other outdoor junk into the space a few weeks ago. “Hello?” For some dumb reason it felt as if someone was watching her, observing
her from above, looking down on her as if she were an insect caught in a web… A familiar squeak echoing from the bare rafters alerted her to the hidden voyeur. “Aw crud! You’re living in here now, aren’t you?” Mel scanned the ceiling for signs of Mr. Bat. She was disappointed when the flying rat didn’t show his face for some reason. Exhaling a long breath, she turned her attention back to looking for the small hibachi she and Ken had purchased to barbecue steaks but had somehow never managed to get around to doing. Pulling her mountain bike out from against the far back wall, she discovered the grill and its utensils hiding behind it. “Eureka. At least I can charbroil my own food now.” She stooped and retrieved the metal objects. “In mint condition, too. Who really needs an oven and stove top when you’ve got a hibachi and a microwave anyway?” The bat returned the sentiment with a squeak. Mel cringed, but managed not to scream or break out in a cold sweat as she headed toward the exit. “I take it you agree, Mr. Bat. Still, I suppose the health department should be notified about your little home here. Rabies and that sort of thing. Sorry, fella. I know most of your kind are harmless and eat flies and other insects, but Shel’s new tenants won’t care for a building mascot without four legs and a bark, if you know what I mean.” Suddenly, a whoosh! The flying black object swooped low past her and streaked out the door. Mel gulped and hugged the hibachi close to her chest and headed for the same portal just as a strange wind blew the door shut. She reached for the handle but found it locked. “How is this possible? You couldn’t have shut and bolted the door, could you, Mr. Bat?” No reply. She took a deep breath and headed toward another door to her left. It seemed locked as well. “Crud! I’m stuck in here, and I don’t even have my cell phone.” Mel raced to the narrow bank of windows along the sidewall and looked down. Even though this was technically the first floor, she was still a good ways up and there was a parking lot right beneath the window. If she could manage to get her fat ass through the window and jump from the ledge, she probably would only break both her ankles and possibly re-injure her trick knee. Was it worth it? “If I’m going to break anything, I’d rather it be a fingernail.” She balled up her fists and began pounding hard enough to wake the dead, kicking the door with her feet and simultaneously yelling. Val downstairs was sure to hear her if she made enough racket… **** “Get out of that coffin. Who said you could stay in it all day long?” Val sat up and slowly opened his eyes. He didn’t smile. “Uncle Vlad. How nice to see you again. What brings you to St. Louis this century?” Vladimir Drakul stood tall and proud, gazing upon his wayward nephew with black eyes that held a resigned coldness that humans could never fathom. Val knew exactly what the patriarch of their clan was thinking: When would the boy learn those who carried the Drakul name did not belong in the world of men? “We heard about your recent successes in the art world, Valentine. Even the Kindred back in the Old Country hear news from time to time about our younger members and wish to check up on their situations.”
“And it only took you twenty-five years to get here, huh?” Val stepped out of his sleeping container and stretched. “Still doing reconnaissance missions in the daylight as a bat?” “Yes. I fly quickly from shadow to shadow and stay out of the sunlight that way. I’ve managed to explore your latest home quite thoroughly.” Val strolled toward the bathroom and grabbed his comb. “What do you think? Pretty cool digs, huh?” Vlad rolled his eyes in disgust and crossed his arms across his velvet crimson vest. “Digs? You mean this hole in the ground? I suppose it’s a safe place, but it is rather crude and lacking in charm.” Val smiled and began brushing his teeth. His uncle was one to talk. Vlad lived in the crypt of a dark, dank castle. “Charm. Uh-huh. Yeah, right.” A pounding sound and a women’s high-pitched whine wafted from above. “Get me out of here somebody, anybody. Val? Are you awake?” “Melynda?” Val spit out the toothpaste and headed for the door. Vlad immediately blocked his path. “Where do you think you are going? It’s a half hour until sunset, Valentine. It would be better if you transformed yourself into a bat or some small creature such as a mouse than to rush into the direct daylight in the form of a … man.” “But I am a man, Uncle. And I can’t help Melynda if I’m a bat. Now move.” Vlad sighed and nodded. “As you wish.” He dissolved into smoke and reformed as a bat. Val rushed up the steps and quickly ascertained where the shouting and pounding was coming from—the front office area. If he were lucky, he’d be able to avoid stepping into any puddles of strong sunlight. “Melynda? Are you in the old office?” “Val? Yes, I’m in here. A bat swooped down on me and then the door mysteriously slammed shut. Both doors appear to be locked from the outside. Can you get me out?” Uncle Vlad squeaked overhead and settled himself in a dark corner. A shaft of bright sunlight cut across the entrance hall between the steps and the office doorway. Val hesitated. He felt his strength draining from him. It had been years since he’d last attempted something so potentially dangerous. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be forced to feed again on human blood to regain his power. “Val? You still out there?” Mel sounded more scared than pissed. “If you let me out I’ll barbecue you a steak just the way you like it every day this summer. Promise—cross my heart and hope to die.” No, you don’t, Val thought, shaking his head. Nobody wants to die—especially those of us who already have. “Sounds good,” Val heard himself say. He swallowed hard, willing his feet to move into the sunlight, but he stood frozen, immobile, terrified. He wasn’t able to do it. He couldn’t… He couldn’t save her. Vlad dissolved and stood beside him in the dark of the stairwell. “For pity’s sake, Valentine. Turn into a bat and fly across the sunbeam. That’s what I do.” “I haven’t transformed in ages, Uncle. It’s not that easy.” “You mean it’s not that easy living on a puny diet of rare steaks courtesy of your local butcher.” He raised his hands as Val began to protest. “Tut-tut. I’ve been watching
you for some time my boy, and you’ve painted yourself into some dark corners trying to act human. Just remember, sometimes it takes an immortal to do a job—and to do it well.” And with that, Vladimir, the head of the Clan Drakula, dissolved into mist and sifted across the golden floor boards toward the door, rematerializing as he reached the other side. He easily turned the handle and threw back the bolt and then dissolved into mist once again. “It’s about time.” Mel exited the storage area and crossed over to where Val stood in the shadows. She held what appeared to be a small grill. “See? I mean to make good on my promise, too.” She paused and blinked twice as she lowered the grill to the floor and stuck out a friendly hand. “Oh, hello. My eyes must be playing tricks on me. I didn’t see you standing there before. My name is Mel—uh, Melynda Kerpanik. And you are?” Vlad smiled. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Melynda. My name is Vladimir Drakul. I’m Valentine’s uncle visiting from out of town.” He bent low and took her hand in his, gallantly kissing the back before standing. “Such a beautiful neighbor you have, Valentine. She offers to cook for you, too. Your aunts would be very happy to know that you’re being taken care of so well.” Mel blushed. “Honestly, I’m not that good of a cook. Does Val have a lot of doting aunts back home?” “Quite a few.” “And they’re always trying to get me to eat better,” Val interjected, hoping to steer the conversation away from Vlad’s three hundred or so “wives”. “I suspect you know how nosey old spinster aunts can be—that’s why I had to move away and live on my own.” “Gotcha.” Mel winked and turned her attention back to Vlad’s compelling eyes. “I can really see the family resemblance. The slightly olive skin, the dark hair and piercing eyes… Are you by chance Romanian, Mr. Drakul?” “Exactly!” He chuckled and clapped his hands together. “Pretty and perceptive. A winning combination. Come.” He nodded toward the stairs going down. “Let us sit down and have a drink together and chat. I would very much like to get to know Miss Melynda Kerpanik better.” There’s something about those eyes of his, but what is it? Mel thought as she accepted a glass of wine from Val’s uncle and idly chatted. The man was older than Val, to be sure, but, still, his eyes held such youthful vitality and humor and … something. She sighed. Whatever it was, his younger, even more striking nephew possessed it, too. But somehow Val didn’t seem to flaunt his sex appeal quite as openly as his uncle. He acted aloof, reserved, a bit more constrained, as if he was holding something back. What exactly was he holding back—and why? “So you’ve always wanted to be an artist, Miss Melynda?” Vlad asked. “Yes, I have. Every since I could hold a crayon. You could say I’ve been interior decorating since I was about three or four. That’s when I first scribbled a mural on my parents’ dining room wall.” She took another hearty sip of the red wine. “My parents didn’t appreciate my original artwork.” Vlad chuckled, soft and low. Val looked at him sideways as if willing his uncle not to continue engaging her in conversation. Was there an unspoken rivalry between these
two? The tension hung thick in the air, unmistakable. Mel longed to uncover their family secrets. She put down her empty wine glass and stood. “Well, I should go see if I can scrounge up some charcoal briquettes if I’m going to do a little steak grilling tonight for my two handsome rescuers. You’re both welcome to come over and drink a little of my booze stash, too.” “An invitation? You’re inviting us into your home?” She nodded. Vlad raised an eyebrow then quickly winked at Val. “How kind you are. But there’s no need to cook on my behalf, my dear.” He swiftly moved to her side. “I have an engagement to attend this evening, but I’m certain my nephew here would love to dine with you. Isn’t that right, Valentine?” “Of course.” Val stood. “It’s been good chatting with you, Uncle. Do say hello to the aunties if we don’t see each other again before you leave St. Louis.” “Oh, you’re leaving town so soon?” Mel felt her spirits flag. “I was just getting to know you both so well it seemed. I really don’t know many people in St. Louis outside of my cousin Shelby and her husband. Maybe the three of us can have a little get-together tomorrow evening?” A slight smile tugged at the corner of Vlad’s mouth. He reached for Mel’s hand and drew it to his full lips. “Perhaps. It would be a shame to leave without saying a proper good-bye.” “Ah, but sometimes business matters take precedence. Isn’t that right, Uncle?” Val stepped in between them and opened the door wide for him. Vlad began to chuckle. “Business without pleasure? What would life be without a balance of both?” He bowed and winked. “Good evening, Miss Melynda. I have a feeling we will meet again—soon.” He quickly exited, leaving Mel staring at his back. “Now, what was that all about?” She stood, hands on hips, staring hard at her handsome neighbor. “You practically threw your poor uncle out of your place. You two seem to have a bit of family feud going, if you don’t mind me saying so.” Val shrugged and turned back to the sofa to flake out. “Yes, we do. I can’t… I can’t really explain it. It’s been going on for quite some time now. He’s quite a competitor—in the ladies department, you could say. I feel … sort of … inadequate standing next to him.” So, that’s the skeleton in the family closet! Mel chuckled to herself. It’s the age-old competition between males—who can pick up the most girls. It seems my gorgeous neighbor here isn’t quite assured of his sex appeal after all. What can I do to help? She approached the sofa and sat down next to Val, taking his hand in hers. “You have nothing to feel ashamed about, Val. While your uncle is obviously a very attractive man, he really isn’t my type.” A dark eyebrow rose. “He isn’t?” “No, I can safely say he isn’t. He’s a bit too old-fashioned for my tastes, what with all the proper ‘Miss Melynda’ designation and the hand kissing. It’s very flattering, but I pride myself on being a modern woman.” Val looked askance at her, like he wasn’t sure where she was going with her comments. “You do?” “Yes, I do. I pride myself on being able to speak my own mind with directness and
grace. I don’t need to be complimented to death just to get me into the sack. All you have to do is ask me.” He bolted to his feet and practically flew across the living space. “Now, Melynda, look, I didn’t mean to imply that I wanted to … wanted to…” “Go to bed with me?” She pouted and angled her body away from him. “You mean, you don’t find damsels in distress wearing dirty work overalls attractive?” “Attractive?” He swallowed hard. “Melynda, you’re absolutely stunning. I wanted to jump your bones from the first second I laid eyes on you, but I couldn’t… I can’t.” She sighed loudly for effect. “Good Catholic boys don’t fool around with divorcees. I know.” He started to pace the floor like a panther in a cage. “No, it’s not like that at all. It’s just that if I did… If we did … I’d have to … and then you’d be…” “A divorcee with a wild affair with her next door neighbor under her belt?” He threw up his hands. “Well, yes, essentially. And I wouldn’t want to do that to you. You’re way too nice of a person. I wouldn’t want to leave you that way.” “But you’d have to leave me eventually, is that it?” Mel frowned. The commitment issue reared its ugly head at her once again. Her knockout of a neighbor was suffering from an acute case of the Peter Pan Syndrome— just like Ken did. Valentine Drakul, gorgeous hunk and talented photographer simply feared growing older and turning into his uncle. He feared turning into a womanizer like Vlad, yet he feared even more being shackled to one female for now and eternity and so he was loathe to commit to a relationship. The classic no-win situation for a young, healthy female in her reproductive prime. Mel felt like dying on the spot. She slowly pulled herself to her feet. “Don’t go,” he said softly. “It’s not what you think.” She cut him off with a gesture. “I understand. Believe me—I do. Don’t worry, I won’t darken your dark doorstep again, Mr. Drakul. I wouldn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable being seen with a wild divorcee in dirty overalls.” She shuffled toward the door in resignation then turned. “However, the steak dinner offer still stands if you’re ever interested.” He nodded. “Thanks, Melynda. You are a good neighbor.” Mel forced a smile. Her heart felt like it had been tap-danced upon by elephants, but she couldn’t let Val know that he held such power over her. “Thank you. Let me know when you find out about your photo rights from your publisher. I still want to hang your pictures in the lofts. Shelby thought it was a great idea when I told her about it the other day. Dollar signs practically popped up over her head.” He grinned. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” “Me neither. Good evening.” “Good evening, Melynda.” His voice sounded low and sad like he regretted his words yet he didn’t amend them. “Pleasant dreams.” “Yeah, you too.” Sighing, Mel schlepped up the stairs, retrieving the hibachi on the way to the second floor. Disappointment had become her constant companion or so it seemed. And nothing really did surprise her anymore. Nothing. The thumping sound against her window later that evening woke Mel from a deep sleep. Was Mr. Bat making nighttime house calls now?
Mel rose to her feet slowly and shuffled across the loft in her flip-flops. Sure enough, a dark shadow fluttered against the front windows. “Ah, Mr. Bat, we’ve got to stop meeting like this. Folks will think we’ve got something freaky going on here with your late night visits.” Sighing, she shook her head. “And you and I both know that we’ve got nothing going on—that is, Val and I have nothing going on. Which is a shame, since I practically threw myself at his feet earlier this evening.” Mel headed for her kitchen area and started digging through the boxes that held her junk food stash. “I’m really losing it. First of all, I throw myself at a man, and he doesn’t even look halfway excited. Frankly, he looked shocked and disgusted.” She sighed again. “And, secondly, I talk to myself and hold long conversations with bats. Hmmm, I wonder if Shel can recommend a decent shrink in these parts.” Suddenly, the squeaking and thumping ceased abruptly. Astonished, Mel’s mouth dropped open. She dropped the granola bar she was about to bite into and spun around to face the window. A thin line of smoke sifted through the cracks along the frame, pooling on the floor beneath the sill. She rubbed her eyes and blinked repeatedly. She must be dreaming, or else she really was going mad. “Vlad? How did … how in the hell did you get in here?” He took a step toward her and opened his arms wide, palms outward, in a welcoming gesture. “Melynda, do not be afraid. I heard your sorrowful musings, and I felt it my duty to explain about my nephew and myself—and about the bat.” “Are you a pest exterminator by any chance?” Mel interrupted, trying hard to sound funny and casual although she felt anything but. She kept her eyes on his face while slowly backing toward her knapsack lying on the half-built kitchen countertop that contained a can of pepper spray and her cell phone. “If you know how to get rid of flying rodents, I’d be eternally grateful.” “Yes, I know how to get rid of bats. Eternally. Allow me to demonstrate.” Vlad took another step toward her. Mel reached behind her back to grab her bag when she lost balance and stumbled, spilling its contents onto the floor. “Oh, bother. I’m such a klutz. Excuse me.” She knelt quickly, scanning the area for her cell phone. Where was it? Had she plugged it into the re-charger next to her bed instead? Luckily, the shiny can of pepper spray was easy to find in the moonlight streaming in from the bank of windows. She held it behind her back as she stood up. “Your hair looks so lovely, its platinum streak radiant by the light of the full moon. Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” So, he was one of those guys… Smooth talking, silver-tongued, older devils who broke into women’s apartments in order to seduce them. Vlad didn’t appear to the violent type, but if there was one thing Mel had learn in self-defense class was that it was better to kick a pervert in the balls hard first than to find yourself later bound and gagged with a knife at your throat later. “No, no one’s ever told me how beautiful I was.” She clutched the pepper spray tightly behind her back and flashed a false grin. “I’m flattered. Now, if you’d be so kind to leave my place I’d appreciate it.” Vlad took another step closer. A fog began to form at his feet and another around the windows once more. “But I can’t leave. Not before I demonstrate to you what I am and
what I came for…” Faster than a bat in flight he stood beside her. Mel froze in place as his black eyes penetrated hers, forcing his will upon her. Her feet wouldn’t move; she couldn’t shout; her hands and arms wouldn’t cooperate to raise the pepper spray. Nothing worked. Paralyzed, she was completely at his mercy. “Melynda, my beauty, do not be afraid.” Vlad hovered over her, enveloping her in his black shadow and dark presence. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move… “Uncle, get away from her.” Mel’s heart leaped in her chest. Somehow Val materialized directly behind her attacker. “Valentine—you had your chance. Melynda will make an excellent addition to the family. If you won’t have her for your own, I will be more than happy to initiate her.” Val grabbed the older man by the shoulders and tossed him aside like a paper cup. “You will not. I laid eyes on Melynda first. She belongs to me. I claim her.” Val looked deeply into Mel’s eyes. A safe, comforting, warm feeling wrapped about her like a soft, fuzzy blanket. Her hunky neighbor liked her after all! Mel felt like singing with joy. If she could only move! Smiling, Vlad stood and dusted himself off as if nothing had happened. “You do? Are you going against your human ways? I thought you despised the Kindred who must partake of the life force of a living beast in order to survive. Are you now ready to return to our world and leave this pitiful, limited human existence behind?” Val lowered his gaze from her face and turned to his uncle. “No.” “But you said you claimed her. If that doesn’t entail consuming her blood and making her one of our kind, then how can it be done?” He turned back to her and tenderly caressed her cheek. “I will make Melynda mine through human methods. I will win her love and respect. She will remain with me because she wants to—not because she has been forced to become one of us.” “Very well, my dear nephew. I shall respect your wishes. But if Melynda does not remain with you and keep our secret, then you know what you must do.” Vlad raised his arms and in a flash of smoke disappeared. Mel’s muscles instantly went limp. She fainted straight into Val’s arms. **** “Where—where am I?” Mel felt like she had been buried alive under an avalanche of cotton balls. Her head pounded, the roar in her ears sounded muffled, her focus was fuzzy and her lips dry. Her symptoms added up to only one thing: She must be suffering from one mother of a hangover. Odd, too, since she hadn’t had that much to drink at Val’s earlier this evening. “You’re in your bed. You’re safe. You just had a bad dream, that’s all. Nothing else happened to you after you went to bed tonight. It was all just a bad dream.” “A bad dream, yes,” she repeated slowly without blinking. “I heard you screaming from downstairs, and I came right away.” “You came right away. Yes.” His dark eyes met hers, searching, judging the truth of her words. “And that’s all you remember about what happened after you went to bed. Is that right?”
“That’s right. Uh, Val?” Mel tried to sit up but discovered she was too weak to move. In the dim light of the small bedside lamp, she could just make out her gorgeous neighbor sitting on the edge of her bed. Realizing her nightie was on the sheer side, she pulled the sheets up to her chin. “Val, how did you get in? I thought I locked my door.” He grimaced slightly as if uncomfortable with her simple questioning. “I managed to break the door down. Don’t worry—I’ll fix it.” “No problem. The carpenters will be here in the morning and they can take care of it. Which reminds me, what time is it?” “Three o’clock.” “Ah…” Observing Val closely from the corner of her eye, Mel noticed a slight tic developing at the side of his sensual mouth. What was Val doing here? And why couldn’t she remember drinking so much earlier this evening? It was almost as if her memory had been emptied of its recent contents. “It seems awful strange for me to have a nightmare. I haven’t thought about Ken in weeks.” “Ken? Your ex-husband?” “Yes. What else would I have to scream about? Living with that man was a nightmare, but it’s all over now. And even living a few weeks with Shelby and Graham wasn’t all that bad.” Val looked down at his well-manicured hands, avoiding her direct gaze. “Sometimes hidden worries can overwhelm your subconscious and cause nightmares. Maybe that’s the case in this instance. You managed to lock yourself in the storage area earlier, remember? You could be suffering from claustrophobia and not even realize it.” Her eyes narrowed. Was Val trying to blow her off? He didn’t sound like he was convinced of what he said himself. And the more Mel thought about it, the more another misty image swirled, spun and sprang to life in her mind’s eye. Vladimir! “You an expert at dream analysis, eh, Doctor Freud?” Mel slowly pulled up to a sitting position and rubbed her arms to increase the circulation. “The rest of my dream is coming back to me now, and it doesn’t involve a dusty storage area or a bat, but a man— a very familiar man.” “Uncle Vlad.” Val stood, turning from her probing stare. “He’s enough to give anyone nightmares.” How did he know? It was uncanny. Was Val privy to her innermost thoughts? Could she crawl around inside his brain, too? No, not that mind-reading nonsense again—she refused to go there. A tickle of curiosity gnawed at her stomach, but she chose to ignore it. If her head didn’t feel like it had been clobbered by a freight train, she would have jumped out of bed and insisted he leave the premises immediately. “Did you say your uncle? Why, he’s a gentleman through and through. Why would I be scared of him?” “Not scared of him exactly. He could be symbolic of something in your subconscious that you are afraid of or worried about. His image is just a convenient icon. Your mind is trying to personalize a fear or problem you’re dealing with and Vlad makes the perfect symbol.” So, that’s it. Mel wasn’t buying the Sigmund Freud routine one bit. Val was
projecting his own fears of inadequacy on her behavior. She nodded slowly. “I see. I guess that makes sense, but Vlad seems so charming. Could it be I’m having some commitment issues? I find myself attracted to him, but I can’t see myself making that big commitment to one individual for all time. Sort of the same problem you’re dealing with yourself?” Val spun around, eyes aflame. “What do you mean by that?” Mel shakily rose from her covers and grabbed her robe, cinching it tightly about her waist. “It’s like what you said earlier this evening. ‘I wouldn’t want to leave that way.’ Classic Peter Pan Syndrome stuff.” “Huh?” She raised her arms in exasperation and let them drop to her sides. “Yes, I know. Men don’t read books. They do sports and watch DVDs and the Playboy Channel.” His dumbfounded look only made things worse. Mel took a deep breath, screwed up her courage and had another go at it. “The Peter Pan Syndrome is all about men who can’t grow-up and make a commitment to stay with one woman. They live lives of easy promiscuity, going from one female to another and staying ten miles ahead of the preacher. Sound familiar?” There went his facial tic again. “No, not really.” “Hmm. I see.” Mel felt her stomach growling. She shuffled toward her junk food stash, knocking a sticky, bumpy thing out of the way with a toe. Hitting the recently installed dining area dimmer switch with a closed fist, she glanced down at the offending object. Where the heck did that granola bar come from? Crud! She really needed to clean this dump. Val followed, observing her from a slight distance. Mel made double sure she’d found the Twinkies box and then turned on him in frustration. “You’re not making this conversation any easier, you know that?” she grumbled. “I’m sorry.” Extracting a crème-filled sponge cake from its wrapper she shoved a large portion into her mouth all at once, wondering if she’d ever find herself in a similar situation with a male ever again. “Want a Twinkie?” she mumbled, her mouth full. He shook his head. “No, thanks. I don’t eat … snack foods.” She swallowed. “Health nut, huh?” “Something like that.” His eyes slowly descended from her face to her neck, as she washed down the rest of her treat with a warm can of soda sitting open on the counter. He repeatedly pursed his lips like a man lost in a sandstorm in the Sahara. “Want some Pepsi?” she asked, noticing his anxious look. “No, thank you. I’m … not thirsty.” “Suit yourself. Could have fooled me.” “No, really, I find it difficult to think of eating when in the company of such a beautiful woman.” Mel blushed a lighter shade of cranberry than her robe. Now Val was laying it on a bit thick. He was more like his uncle than he knew. Maybe he changed his mind about wanting to go to bed with her? Maybe that’s why he’d rushed up to her place with the lamest of excuses?
So why did she still believe Uncle Vlad had something to do with Val’s current appearance? “Really,” she purred in her most seductive voice, slowly licking the crème from her long fingers. “Many a man can only think of eating in the presence of a woman—and I’m not talking about scarfing up Twinkies here.” His facial twitch grew stronger. Mel flinched. Poor man. Was she coming on too strong? Was her desperate need for intimate physical contact with a male to soothe her battered self-esteem scaring him off? Could Valentine Drakul be gay? Before she had fully considered the last option, Val was next to her, pulling her into his arms and holding her so close that it was hard to tell where she ended and he began. His mouth claimed hers and his tongue crashed through the barricade of her lips, tasting her, teasing and taunting her senses to a frenzied pitch. Minutes later Mel pushed away and stole a ragged breath. “Were you … were you once a track star? You and your uncle are so … so quick on your feet. And you don’t seem to need much oxygen.” Val rained kisses down upon her face, neck and shoulders. “Breathing is for sissies,” he murmured, continuing his sensual assault on her body. Mel felt faint—a good faint, but woozy nonetheless. She clung to his broad shoulders for strength, drowning in the deep pools of his mysterious, dark eyes. “Shall we go to the sofa?” she suggested. He scooped her into his arms like she was made of paper and not the woman she was of ample height and weight. She nodded toward the entranceway. “It’s over that a-way, under a paint cloth.” Val flung the plastic sheeting from the couch, deposited Mel safely and bowed low in one grand, sweeping gesture. She burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re a better swashbuckler than either Douglas Fairbanks or Errol Flynn.” “Why, thank you.” He grinned and slid next to her. “Doug was such a great guy, but I really can’t say the same about Errol. His infamous reputation with the ladies was welldeserved.” “So you’re a classic movie lover, too?” Mel watched with interest as a look of confusion passed over his face before he came back to the moment at hand. “Uh, yes. Yes, I am.” “Great. I can’t wait to show you my video and DVD collection. I almost thought you were going to say you knew both Doug and Errol personally there for a second. And that would be next to impossible since you don’t appear to be a day over thirty-three.” “Actually, I’m thirty-five.” He gathered her into his arms. “Now, where were we?” Thirty-five? You’re closer to thirty-five times thirty—and don’t you forget it. Val sighed inwardly as their lips met and their tongues danced in the age-old lovers’ dance. He was embarking on dangerous territory here. The last time he had bonded with a human all hadn’t gone according to plan. Serena’s final pleas still rang in his ears across the centuries. Her pleading for death to come swiftly and take her from the hell of her undead existence. Her cries for both mercy and deliverance as the butcher who called himself a man of the cloth drove the stake through her heart as she lay powerless in her coffin. Could he risk the same happening to dear, kind, generous Melynda?
He froze then gently extricated himself from their embrace. “What’s wrong?” Mel asked. “Melynda, I… I’m…” He couldn’t say the words. He couldn’t tell her that he wasn’t all he appeared to be and that her very life—her very soul—was at great risk if they continued. He couldn’t tell her that he so much wanted to make love to her, yet knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop at that point, that the desire to taste her blood as well would overwhelm him until nothing could prevent it from happening. “What is it? Is it me?” Mel’s emerald eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I’m not the sophisticated city girl like you’re used to dating. Is that it? Or do you have a wife somewhere back east?” Actually Val still had several wives back east—in the old country, that is, but they had long ago parted company. His attempts in last few centuries to live a human-like existence were off-putting to those he had initiated into the Kindred who enjoyed their immortality and all that it offered. “It’s not you at all, Melynda. It’s me. I’m not the man you think I am. I’m not a man at all.” “Oh?” She cleared her throat and sat up straight. “Did this involve some sort of … operation?” He stared at her for several seconds before realizing the implications of her question. “No, no operation. I was born with all the parts. It’s just that … that I … I’m…” Suddenly, a brilliant inner glow washed over Mel’s fair features. “Val, are you trying to tell me you’re still a virgin at thirty-five?” For want of a better out he replied simply, “Yes.” “Oh, Val.” Sighing, she caressed his slumped shoulders as his head dropped into his hands. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. I wish I could say the same thing. So, you’ve never been married or in a long-term, serious relationship before?” “No, never. I’ve focused all my energies on my photography for the last few years. I don’t possess many people skills as you may have noticed, and my condition keeps me out of the sunlight, you see, and…” “Your condition?” she interrupted. “You have a health problem that is aggravated by the sun?” “Yes. It’s hereditary. Uncle Vlad and my aunts all have it, too.” “I’m sorry. It explains why you’re such a night owl. Surely some doctor will come up with a cure or an effective treatment for it one day.” He raised his head and smiled. Mel’s optimism was contagious. “One day perhaps.” “My poor, dear Valentine,” she murmured, stroking his cheek with a long finger. “I’m too aggressive. A sweet, innocent guy like you could suffer a full-fledge panic attack around a horny woman like me. I apologize. I’m acting like a predator cornering its prey. It’s just that it’s been so long since…” She sighed and shrugged. “You know how it is—or at least you can probably imagine it. I dated Ken in high school and married him soon after we graduated college. We were together up until last year. I’ve never been without a boyfriend this long in my adult life. Add my hormones to the mix… Well, they can drive a woman batty at times.” He chuckled softly. “Batty? Maybe that’s why you’re attracting bats?” She joined in the laughter. “Could be. So, we’re friends, then?”
“Friends.” Then, without thinking, Val pulled her back into his arms and their lips met. Electricity flowed between them, crackling the air with heightened sexual awareness. Mel pressed her curves tight against his chest and rubbed her pussy against him in a slow, erotic manner. The intense pleasure building in his groin and the tickling pain of retracting his fangs jolted him with a thrilling double-whammy of sensation. He could do it—he knew it. He could make love to Mel and prevent himself from devouring her life force all at once. It was just a matter of staying in control and practicing patience. The last two hundred years of self-imposed celibacy had well been worth it. His hands plunged beneath the thin covering of her robe, caressing her round, full breasts, flickering against her erect nipples through the silkiness of her nightgown. She arched her long necked and moaned. Blood thirst rose in his throat, but Val fought off the urge and focused instead on giving his partner the best night of lovemaking in her life.
Chapter Four You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Melynda Schwartz Kerpanik! An insistent, incessant voice nagged at her conscience. Seducing a virgin … a girl can’t get much lower than that. And it doesn’t matter if Val is a legal adult or how much he wants to do it. Did it ever occur to you that he might have remained chaste all this time because he wanted to study for the priesthood? “Hmm… Val?” Mel murmured as they came up for air. By never rushing into the bedroom, the man had become quite an accomplished kisser. “You haven’t remained a virgin because you wanted to become a priest, have you?” His dark eyes, glazed over with lust, widened slightly. “No.” “You’re not harboring any communicable diseases I should be made aware of, are you?” “None that I know of.” “Good.” She grabbed him by the back of his head and lowered his lips to meet hers once more. Luckily, she was still on the Pill and since he was a virgin with no STDs… She immediately sat up and gently pushed him away. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Did I do something untoward?” Mel smiled and shook her head. “No, you’ve acted like a perfect gentleman. I’m the one acting like a tramp here. I keep thinking how great it is that you haven’t slept with half of St. Louis. I don’t want to push you into doing anything you’re not ready for, Val, but it’s getting awfully hot in here…” She stood and faced him, unsashing her already half-opened silk robe. It puddled to the floor. Before her sense of right or wrong could get the better of her, she yanked her nightgown over her head, baring herself body and soul before his eyes. A cloud passed over the face of the full moon, allowing its luminosity to bathe Mel in a magical, silvery glow. Her black locks fluttered down across her broad, white shoulders, curving between her round breasts. She watched with fascination as Val’s dark eyes roved from her at-attention nipples across her somewhat flat abdomen to focus on the “V” formed by her tiger-striped thong. Not a sound fell from his lips but instinctively Mel sensed what would happen next. Val dropped to his knees, tugged her close and ripped off her panties with his bare teeth. “Woo-hoo!” He laid her down on the couch and spread her thighs wide. Mel held on to his thick mane as he devoured her pussy with gusto. His tongue danced like a man possessed across her throbbing clit. Arching her hips she bucked against the friction, dizzying sensations spiraling outward from her cunt. The man feasted on her like a hungry wolf. Soon the tremors of desire building inside her demanded their release. “Val, you’re incredible,” she gasped. “I … I’m about to…” He plunged a digit deep inside her. Mel shrieked with a combination of surprise and ecstasy. Her arms flailed as orgasm after orgasm overtook her. A supernova exploded before her eyes, sparks dazzling and glimmering in hues of pink and purple. Her hoarse cries bounced off the brick walls and high ceilings, their echoes enhancing her pleasure a hundredfold.
Hours—or was it mere minutes?—later she fell silent. Her mind wandered about the room, floating somewhere above her body, not caring if it returned to its shell anytime this century. “Melynda?” Val rose from where he knelt and went into the kitchen. He brought back a new can of Pepsi and another Twinkie. “Here. I think you need these.” “Thanks,” she muttered, accepting the food. Try as she may, though, she couldn’t open either package. “I’m a bit out of it. You do it, please.” Chuckling, he ripped open the Twinkie wrapper and popped the Pepsi can open— with his teeth. My, my, I must ask him who his dentist is, Mel thought, woozily accepting his gifts. “Hmm. Good. You want some?” He shook his head. She took another long sip of soda. “You know what? You’re quite talented, Mr. Drakul. And here I thought you said you were a virgin. Is it only by a technicality?” “You could say that.” He sat beside her, cuddling her into his embrace. “I never said I didn’t know how to please a lady.” “No, you never did quite say that,” Mel mumbled, chomping into her second Twinkie of the night. “But you made me think that was the case. How do you do it?” He raised an eyebrow. “Do what? Make you come again and again like a revolving door?” She deposited the rest of her snack on the end table beside the couch, giggling. “No, silly. I meant how do you seem to read my mind and put thoughts into my head? I remember telling you that I didn’t have a nightmare, yet you mentioned your Uncle Vlad, and that’s the exact image I held in my mind at that moment. Are you psychic? Don’t tell me you’re a wizard or something.” A momentary look of surprise passed over his handsome features. “I’m something, but not a wizard or a psychic.” Val grinned. “All done with your refreshments, my lady? Time for the second course.” “Seconds? Sounds yummy. I’m ready when you are.” Mel sat up and began to unbutton his faded denim shirt. He gently pushed her hands away. “No, I meant my seconds.” She pouted playfully and finished unbuttoning his shirt. “But I haven’t had my firsts yet. Allow me to show you have talented I am. I’ve been practicing on Twinkies all week.” “On Twinkies?” “I thought I needed a little remedial work in how to care for certain areas of the male anatomy.” She reached for his jeans zipper while she gave his nipples a gentle nibble. “Hmm, tasty. I like the taste of a real man.” Val laughed, relaxing his taut muscles as she eased his shirt from his shoulders. “How do I know you and the construction workers haven’t been getting in on up here while I sleep downstairs?” “You don’t. I could be a wild nymphomaniac for all you know. But honestly, none of the work crew has really inspired me. They’re all married types who are at least a hundred pounds overweight. They’re chain smokers, too.” He raised a curious eyebrow and kicked off his boots, lying back against the pillows as Mel proceeded to kiss his rock hard abs. “I see. And what kind of remediation do
eating oblong, crème-filled cupcakes provide?” “You’ll find out in a second, neighbor. Remember the Golden Rule?” “‘Do unto others?’” Mel flashed a wicked grin then slowly began to slide his jeans over his muscular legs, toying at the waistband of his black silk boxers. “Black. Good color. It suits your personality as a black and white photographer. You’re not colorblind by chance are you?” “No, though sometimes I wish I was. I get super excited by the color red sometimes.” “Really? I’ll remember that the next time I go clothes shopping.” The jeans dropped to the floor beside the couch where she knelt. She eagerly massaged his lengthening erection through the silky material. Unable to restrain herself any longer, she removed his boxers, gasping as the full extent of his erection revealed itself. “Oh, my stars…” Val was twice the size she had assumed he was. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the solid, red thickness that thrust straight up into her hand. Had she really done this to him? Could a dorky girl from the land of Dorothy and Toto inspire a potential Chippendales dancer so much? Mel hesitated, but only for a moment. “Melynda? Don’t feel like you have to—ah, yes! Yes!” She wound her tongue around and around the head of his cock, tickling its sensitive underside before plunging his entire length into her mouth. His groans of pleasure and astonishment were music to her ears. She employed her fingers along his shaft and balls, stroking and squeezing. Her enthusiasm grew along with his need for release. Soon his walls of self-restraint came tumbling down. Val’s roar of ecstasy echoed throughout the empty loft, deafening in its intensity. Mel smiled and raised her head, observing the blissful look of total relaxation playing across his features. Moaning, he slowly opened his eyes. “That was … simply beyond words.” Her self-esteem soared. “You’re not saying that just because I’m not a blow-up doll, are you?” He reached for her hand and pulled her up to sit beside him. “No. I mean it. I never knew lovemaking could be so … so…” “Erotic?” “Yes, and something else I can’t explain. I’m not good with words, just images.” “Me neither. Why not act out how you feel then?” Val encircled her in his strong arms and lowered his lips to hers. Mel sighed. There was no doubt how he felt about her. None in the least. “Stay the rest of the night with me,” she whispered, curling up against his solid chest. “Protect me from Mr. Bat and all the other things that go bump in the night in a haunted warehouse.” He caressed her hair and pulled her closer. “It’s not haunted.” He kissed her forehead tenderly. “At least not anymore.” “You’ll stay with me won’t you?” Her green eyes glistened with unshed tears while her chafed-from-kissing lips trembled. “All right. But I have to leave before morning.” She sat up. “Hey, don’t worry about my reputation. We’re the only ones living in this building. Besides, the construction workers don’t arrive until nine a.m. at the earliest.
Union rules.” Val kissed her part, chuckling. “I do care about your reputation, but I also have to depart early so I can take my medication by a certain time. You understand?” Mel raised an eyebrow. “Medication? Oh, you mean for your sun-related problem. I understand. I don’t want you to miss a dose and get sick. Just promise me one thing.” “Anything.” “That you won’t waltz out of here without bothering to say good-bye first. I hate guys who sleep with a girl and then just tiptoe out of her life without so much as a ‘thanks and have a nice day’. I just find it so … so humiliating.” “I would, too. I never, ever want to hurt you, Melynda. I only want what’s best for you.” “You sound like my parents telling me not to marry Ken.” She grinned and lowered her cheek to his chest. Strange, why couldn’t she hear his heartbeat? “Hmm. I think I’ll doze off right here if you don’t mind.” “I don’t. But perhaps your bed would feel more comfortable?” “Okay. Help me find it.” Val scooped her off the sofa and carried her into the bedroom area, gently laying her across the bed before crawling in beside her and tucking the covers up to her chin. She closed her eyes and sleep came upon her instantly. “Sweet dreams, my dear Melynda. You will be safe. I will make certain of it. I stake my existence upon it.” **** The sound of the construction workers gathering on the front steps of the building startled Mel awake. “Sheesh! I really slept in today.” She turned and caressed Val’s indentation still evident on the sheets. “So, it wasn’t a dream after all. I really did get to know my neighbor better last night.” Mel smiled and focused her gaze upon a paper resting beside her alarm clock: I trust you had a lovely sleep. I will meet you again tonight at eight.—Val Sighing, she held the note against her heart. “Ah. What a gentleman.” The sounds of the workmen stomping and cursing as they gathered their materials for the day rudely brought Mel back to reality. “Which is more than I can say about you guys.” She jumped out of bed and grabbed her clothes, hurriedly dressing before the invaders started pounding on her door. “Mel? Mel? Are you up yet?” came Shelby’s voice a minute later from the hall. “Listen, I have talk to you about something important before all the construction noises begin. Let me in, please.” Mel dashed to the door and threw back the bolt, ushering Shelby into the loft. There were no signs of a forced entry from the night before. That was odd. How did Val get inside then? “You’ll have the shower hooked up in no time according to the plumber downstairs.” Shelby gave her cousin’s rumpled attire a once over. “Ahem.” “Super. I could use a bath.” Shelby gingerly held her nose. “Yes, you could.” The first of the workers saddled past her and deposited their toolboxes. “Mind if we take our discussion outside? I can
barely breathe in here—because of the sawdust, that is.” Mel rolled her eyes and headed toward the kitchen to rummage through her food boxes. “There are worse things in life than a few ounces of honest sweat, Shel.” “I know there is. Property that plummets in value overnight as opposed to skyrocketing is the worse.” “Why, that goes without saying.” Mel popped open another Pepsi and dug out a breakfast cereal bar. Shelby was wonderful person, but her world seemed a bit narrow, a bit too focused on the real estate business at times. Shel really needed to learn how to loosen up some without the aid of alcohol. “Let’s go for a walk, shall we?” Mel suggested. They proceeded out of the building and into the bright June sunshine. Mel winked at the workers as they whistled at her petite cousin’s slinky sling-back kitten heels and mauve short-skirted business suit. “Neanderthals,” Shelby muttered. “It’s like they’ve never seen a woman fashionably attired before.” Mel laughed. “They probably haven’t. Most of these guys’ wives think high fashion means wearing floral flip-flops with their Cardinal T-shirts and cut-off shorts.” “How would you know how their wives dress?” “They told me. They’re very nice guys once you get talking to them.” Mel downed a good third of her Pepsi and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “I need more caffeine that this stuff provides. Let’s head on over to the TriplExpress Café. I could do with a double-mocha-latte-whatchamacallit.” “Ditto here.” They turned the corner and casually strolled past aging red brick townhouses, some fully restored to their former glory while others sat forlornly boarded up, waiting for an enterprising person to call them home. “So, what brings you out this morning?” Mel mumbled, masticating her breakfast bar like a cow chewing cud much to her cousin’s chagrin. “I figured you wouldn’t risk getting your expensive Italian shoes dirty with a visit until I had the first loft half way decorated.” “Ordinarily I wouldn’t, but last night I received a very unusual phone call. It was from a gentleman who is relocating to St. Louis from overseas. He’s some kind of top dog at Purina or Anheuser-Busch or Energizer … well, you know, one of those big multinational firms. Anyway, he heard tell from a local executive moving agency about the wonderful new lofts being constructed in the old Falstaff Warehouse in the historical district. He said he just had to have the penthouse suite.” “Sorry to rain on your parade, but you don’t have a penthouse, Shel. Are you going to add an extra floor or a balcony or something?” “Not exactly. I told him we could sell the entire top floor to him and do a custom job by combining what would have been at least two apartments into one. You know set the walls the way he wants them, etcetera. He’s flying in sometime next week and wants to tour the place and talk to you about its interior decoration.” Mel’s eyes widened. She froze in place. The remainder of her cereal bar fell from her grasp and crumpled onto the sidewalk. “Me? He wants little ol’ me to do his interior decorating? Wouldn’t Mr. Moneybags
want to hire his own designer? I mean, I’m just doing up a couple models for show to help you out.” Shelby smiled. “With the option of doing more extensive interior designing if the client requests it, remember? Have faith in your abilities. I do.” “I’m flattered. Really I am.” Mel gave her cousin a big kiss on the cheek. Cringing, Shelby wiped the crumbs away. They started walking again. “But once this dude meets me and sees my ideas … I don’t know, Shel. I want to help you sell these lofts—not harm your chances with some big wig executive who gathers info from the real estate grapevine.” “Don’t worry. I know you’ll impress him—especially once you get the shower installed and use it.” They crossed the street and entered the cafe. “After all, I made it a part of the deal. I told him he had to consult with my beautiful, divorced cousin first if he wanted to purchase the penthouse.” They paused at the counter. Mel stared in shock and disbelief at her conniving, match-making cousin. “You told him what?” “Sh! Keep your voice down.” “My voice down?” Mel cried. “You’re trying to bribe a potential client with your own dear cousin’s womanly charms and you want me to keep quiet about it?” Shelby lowered her voice to a whisper. “Yes, please. I can’t afford to let others know. There could be real estate spies in here.” Mel slapped her forehead in disgust. “Forgive me. How could I be so blind?” The regular morning crowd, busy with their papers, laptops and designer coffees barely registered the disturbance. Shelby ordered two double-latte-mochas then they sat at a small table near the window. “Okay here’s the deal. I told my potential client that the interior designer for the project is a beautiful divorcee looking for an attractive man to date.” Shelby flashed a crooked grin over her coffee cup. “You see I listen to the grapevine, too. Mr. Moneybags, as you call him, is divorced as well and handsome as all get-out according to the execs I chatted with yesterday. He sounds perfect for a little harmless fling—or something more serious.” “But Shel, really. I’m not desperate, and I’m sure the man can get his own dates. Besides, me and…” “You won’t insult him by not going out for a drink if he asks, will you?” Shelby’s eyes turned liquid, silently pleading her case. “If I can get him to sign on the dotted line I’ll be the happiest real estate broker in the known universe. Please say you’ll help me, cuz. Pretty please.” Mel put down her cup and threw up her arms in surrender. “Okay. One drink. I’m okay with schmoozing a client for an evening, but nothing more.” “He’s wealthy, Mel. Think of it… You could afford to go back to school and get your Masters, buy a townhome like Graham and I did and fix it up yourself, travel the world, buy a Rolls Royce, send the kids to private schools…” “Kids? Now, that’s a bit much Shelby Schwartz. What would Val think about me doing such a thing after last night?” Shelby blinked twice, coming back to reality as the dollar signs faded from view. “Val? Last night? You don’t mean you and my troglodyte tenant have hit it off already?”
Mel shrugged and picked up her cup to hide behind. “Could be.” Shelby chuckled softly. “I—I don’t believe it. You actually got Val Drakle out of his cave and into your bed in less that a week? Amazing.” Mel blushed. “You’re making me sound like I’m a slut or something.” “No, I don’t mean that. I just gotta hand it to you, Mel. I was always jealous of you whenever we hung out together in college. The guys found you wild and free and simply irresistible, and I was an anal retentive business major. Too bad you were always so dang faithful to Ken—a man who never once thought to repay your loyalty with some of his own.” “Shel, don’t bring that man’s name up, please. I just ate.” “Sorry.” “It’s okay.” Mel reached across the table and gave her cousin’s hand a quick squeeze. “And you’re right. Dating only one person is for the birds nowadays. I’m a single woman. If I want to go out and have drinks with a potential client, I seriously doubt Val would mind. Especially if it’s during daylight hours.” “He really does sleep all day and work all night? I just thought maybe he only did that when he was busying shooting nightscapes.” “No, he really is a night owl. Something to do with a genetic tendency that runs in his family he says which causes him to break out in hives in sunlight. I don’t know how we’ll get along in the long run, but for now… Well, let’s say he’s not all ‘caveman’.” A pleasantly warm sensation tingled from the top of her white-streaked part to the tips of her electric pink toenails as Mel recalled last night’s escapades. She twirled a lose strand of hair around a finger and sighed. “Actually, Val is quite … charming when he wants to be.” Shelby grinned. “Charming, eh? Well, I don’t want to cause any serious mischief between you two. Just be nice to Mr. Moneybags and act professional. I’m sure he’ll be disappointed if you don’t fall at his feet, but he’ll live.” “Thanks, Shel.” Mel squeezed her cousin’s hand again. “I better let you go now so you can tackle the business world, and I can tackle the grouting around the tub.” They rose and headed toward the door. “But first tell me, what is this gentleman’s name? I can’t keep referring to him as ‘Mr. Moneybags’ all the time.” “Oh, it’s something Dutch sounding.” Shelby bit her lip in thought. “Hmm … Van Gogh? No, that’s not it. Van Dyke? Wrong. Hmm… Wait—I’ve got it. Van Helsing. His name is Leo Van Helsing.”
Chapter Five “Are you certain he lives in the warehouse?” Leo Van Helsing barely glanced up from reading the stack of papers on his wide oak desk as he questioned his visitor. It wouldn’t do to display too much interest to his lowbrow subordinate at this point in the chase. The fat man standing before him shoved pudgy fists into the pockets of a white seersucker suit and nodded. “Yeah, he lives in the basement of all places. Never comes out in the daytime. A regular hermit if you ask me.” “And he hasn’t caught sight of you or your men observing him?” “Nah. A couple of times he came close though. It’s uncanny… It was like he had eyes in the back of his head or somethin’.” “As if he possessed psychic powers?” The man laughed. “Psychic powers? Yeah, sure. And he could dissolve into a mist and float through doors, too. Nah, he’s just another urban yahoo trying to look cool with a pick-up and a ponytail. Nothing we can’t handle.” Van Helsing smiled. “I have every confidence in your abilities, Ralphie. But I’ll take over from here on out.” “You what? You don’t want us to snuff him for you, Leo?” “Address me as ‘Mr. Van Helsing’ when you’re in my office, if you’d be so kind.” His grin thinned and a pulse of pure hatred throbbed at the base of his pale neck. “And I do want you to help me remove Mr. Drakul, but not in the usual manner. I’ll fill you in on the how, when and where shortly.” Ralphie frowned then shrugged. “Okay. It’s your money, your mur…” “Merger.” His voice was cold steel, slicing through the fat man’s brash words. “I prefer to think of our dealings with Mr. Drakul as a business transaction. A merger if you will.” Ralphie chuckled. “Sure. I understand where you’re coming from, Mr. Van Helsing. I’ll be waiting for your call.” The lackey dismissed himself from the executive suit of offices without further incident. Van Helsing allowed a brief sigh to escape the flat line of his lips as he put down his pen and rubbed his temples. He rose from the sprawling desk and gazed out of the window at the unaware city below. Scoffing at such a thing as psychic powers indeed! Fat Ralphie wouldn’t know a genuine psychic from his own asshole. The man’s mind was so small that Van Helsing had to tune it out whenever he came into contact with the idiot so he didn’t start to yawn listening to the cretin’s meager, mercenary thoughts. As his grandmother had always told him, the gift of the second sight was both a blessing and a curse—and one that lately had come with a very high price tag. He reached into his jacket pocket and removed the vial. Swirling the evil black liquid, he uncorked the stopper and put it to his lips. The serum tasted like the cinder of hell itself, but it did seem to boost his abilities at least temporarily. So close to capturing his prey, his talent had to be at its best. Fortunately for humanity the gift had been bestowed upon him, Leo Van Helsing,
and it would be a blessing. It would help him in his quest to end the Kindred’s curse. The bloodsuckers would all perish in his lifetime. He had vowed to his grandparents that his generation of Van Helsings would eliminate the plague of vampirism from the planet once and for all. Valentine Drakul’s demise would send a shockwave throughout Kindred society. They’d learn that there was no running from a Van Helsing, no hiding of their hideous bloodlust in the New World. Once it became known the aberrant vampire who tried to live as a man had been eliminated, others who had scurried out of the Old World would panic and flee for their ancestral home in the Carpathians. Cornered like the snarling, razor-toothed rats they were, they’d be easy prey. It was that simple. Corner and conquer. Van Helsing smiled and turned from the striking view of the St. Louis skyline in the dying light of day. He’d learned a lot while obtaining his M.B.A. from the Harvard Business School. He’d learned that second place simply didn’t exist. He would come out on top. He always did. **** The shady streets lined with two and three storey Victorian era red brick buildings of the city’s original neighborhoods brought pleasant back memories. Vladimir Drakul smiled to himself. He hadn’t traveled out of the Old Country very often in the past few centuries, but he had visited London, Paris and Berlin. And although he was strolling through twenty-first century St. Louis, the Old World European influence could be felt here. All those German immigrants coming to work in the breweries of the city or those Czech peasants slaving in lead mines along the river… They had brought a sampling of their architecture with them to their new home in America. The Bevo Windmill, a symbol of another time and place, spread its revolving arms across its south side neighborhood and became a first class restaurant, too. Vlad particularly enjoyed strolling through the Cherokee Historical District’s Antiques Row in the late afternoons when the shadows lengthened and the coming night brought promise of strength renewed. A thick coating of SPF 45 sun block slathered on his sensitive skin helped, too. The eclectic mix of shops on Cherokee Street, ranging from vintage clothing and antique furniture to New Age gift establishments, intrigued him more than the clone outlets found in the so-called shopping malls. Not much in massproduced, up-to-the-minute items for sale here. Things were cherished here because they were unique and old. He liked it. His footsteps halted of their own accord and he looked up. The vibrant colors on the sign had caught his eye and glued him to the spot. He cupped a hand and peered through the front window of Esmeralda’s Vintage Everything and New Age Emporium. Beads, incense, psychedelic patterned scarves, books, classic recordings, tarot cards, Ouija boards and crystals… Esmeralda’s seemed to have it all. “Wait.” Vlad pulled open the shop’s large glass door just as its owner was about to switch her sign from “open” to “closed”. “I’ve come a long way to browse your fine establishment. Will you allow me a few minutes?” “Why, of course.” The woman smiled shyly and stood back, permitting Vlad to enter her place of business. “Anything in particular you’re looking for today?”
Vlad gazed deeply into her kind eyes. Instantly he knew he had found what he had been searching for, for a very long time. “Only you.” The proprietress blushed the same color pink as her tie-dyed peasant top. “I bet you say that to all the single, middle-aged women you meet.” “No never.” He bowed low. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Vladimir Drakul.” “I’m Esmeralda Groenig. But my friends call me Esme.” “Esme. A beautiful name for a very beautiful woman.” “Oh, my…” She giggled as he kissed the back of her hand. “Such a gentleman. That’s a foreign accent you have, isn’t it? From the Old Country I suspect.” “Yes, you’re very perceptive. Come.” Taking her by the elbow, he guided her to a seating area toward the back that featured a low table and crystal ball in front of it. The scent of cinnamon incense filled the air as soft, relaxing Celtic chants resounded from the old-fashioned stereo speakers. “Look into the crystal and tell me our future: Do we become lovers?” Esmeralda giggled and blushed again. “Oh, my… You are such a smooth talker.” She pulled the glass ball closer, looking intently into the mists of time. “I see a tall man in dark clothes walking down Cherokee Street. It could be you. And a rather chubby woman with long, graying hair and beads standing beside you.” “Ah, then that cannot be you then. For you are delicate like a flower and have the countenance of a schoolgirl.” “Flattery will get you everywhere!” Chuckling, she continued searching the images. “No, it’s me all right. I recognize my authentic Woodstock love beads.” Vlad took her hand in his. “Then we will become lovers?” Esmeralda gasped, mesmerized by the gleam in his dark eyes. “It appears so.” Vlad stood and pulled her into his arms, crushing his lips against hers. She moaned and pressed her well-rounded curves closer to his body as his hands roved across her hips. “I—I can’t believe this is happening to me,” she whispered against his chest as he held her close moments later. “For ages I’ve stared into that crystal ball and never had a hint that I’d ever find a man who’d truly love me and stay faithful to me. I’d given up all hope. It died with each little disappointment and sour relationship.” Sighing, she snuggled against him. “I don’t know what it is, but somehow I know what you’re saying is true. I wonder what makes you so different from the others?” “Let’s just say the others could not understand how important the love of a good woman can be over the long span of time.” He gently took hold of her chin and tilted her head so he could delve deeply into her eyes. Yes, the psychic connection was there. She would bond well and make a worthy companion. He was seldom wrong. “Let us not waste anymore time.” He caressed her gray-streaked brown hair. “I want you to be with me now—and for all eternity. Do you agree?” Esmeralda nodded. “Yes. Yes, I want to be with you, Vladimir. It seems we were destined to be together.” Vlad sank his fangs into the sweet flesh of her neck, drinking in his lover’s strength. Esmeralda cried out then fell moaning with pleasure as he gently lay her across a low sofa beside the table.
**** “I never knew how beautiful the city could look at night.” Mel contentedly rested her head on Val’s chest as they gazed together at the stars framed by the Gateway Arch standing sixty-three stories above them. “I never knew how wonderful it would be to share all these vistas with a beautiful woman.” Val held her closer. They spread on an old quilt Mel had scrounged up from the storage area. No problems tonight—the doors had opened and remained opened while she rummaged in the boxes for her packed linens. “Thank you for bringing me along on your shoot. I’m impressed how all the night watchmen and park rangers seem to be on a first name basis with you. You’re not as antisocial as you make out to be.” Val chuckled softly. “Being friendly is the only way I can walk around buildings and national monuments at night without getting arrested. When most folks see me lugging this tripod and camera bag around at two a.m. they don’t always think I’m innocently shooting night photography. They assume I’m up to no good.” Mel rose up on an elbow and kissed him soundly on the lips. “Who’d ever mistake you for being anything but the angel you are.” Angel? A dark angel perhaps. Oh, if you only knew what I really am, Val thought, regret upon regret welling in his mind. One day it was bound to happen—Mel would become curious like so many women had in his previous relationships, and she’d come looking for him in the daytime… And she’d find him, motionless, dead to the world of the living. She would then have to join the Kindred—or he’d have to end her life. He willed himself not to see that day coming. Today they were happy and free and delighted in each other’s company. Her presence kept him grounded in this realm of existence; it kept him human. It was enough. For now. “You want to know something funny?” Mel giggled. “I’ve always thought the Arch looked like a giant croquet hoop. Don’t you?” “Now that you mention it, yes, it does. But where are the giant mallet and the croquet ball to go with it?” “The giant threw them down river?” They both laughed. She let her head drift backward, fully exposing the slender column of her neck to him. Val turned his eyes away from the temptation. “Hmm… maybe the giant is like the Loch Ness Monster,” Mel thought aloud, “and he lives deep below the surface of the waters. Late at night while the city is fast asleep he crawls out of the murky Mississippi and plays croquet with visitors like Paul Bunyan.” “If a giant does comes out of the river at night I’ve never seen him.” She pouted playfully. “That’s right. You’re awake when it’s dark. It’s not magical and mysterious and shadowy like it is for the rest of us.” “No, I’m afraid it isn’t. It’s just darker.” “That’s too bad. I forget that you don’t call it a day around midnight like the rest of the world. This is the middle of your business day, isn’t it? And here I am keeping you from doing your work.” Mel sat up and gave him space to gather his photographic equipment together. “Where else were you planning to shoot by the light of the silvery moon tonight? I think the Arch and the full moon from this angle make a great picture. What other locations do
you have in mind?” “I have another shot in mind, but it’s an indoor shot,” Val said, collapsing the tripod to store in its carrying case. “And it involves a human subject.” “Human?” She smiled coquettishly. “Not an elf or a hobbit or some other mythical beast?” “No, human—a beautiful human female to be exact.” He danced his fingertips along her bare arms, pleased with how her flesh goosepimpled with excitement at his touch. “You gave me the idea last night when you stood in the moonbeam and removed your clothes. The radiance of your skin was … mesmerizing. I want to photograph you again in the same pose if I may. Do you mind becoming a nude model, Melynda?” She licked her lips slowly. “Nude? Me? I’m not model material by a long shot. I look more like those chubby angels from the Renaissance period than those androgynous stick insects that grace fashion magazine covers nowadays. Are you sure you want to photograph me?” His answer was his kiss, long, deep and passionate as he caressed her curvy backside. “I like a woman with flesh on her bones.” She returned his kiss with equal enthusiasm. “All guys say things like that, but do they really mean it?” “I do.” He kissed her again with even more urgency this time. “And I promise it will only be your luscious, feminine form in silhouette and shadow. I won’t show your beautiful face. I don’t want other men to think they own you.” “Ah, but you do?” She smiled. “Of course. I’ve made you mine. You are mine, Melynda Kerpanik. I will never, ever, share you with another.” Oh, rats. Mel silently cursed as their lips met again. Having drinks with Mr. Moneybags—Van Helsing—would have to be during lunch in a well-lit restaurant, preferably with a chaperone. But she didn’t mind. Val wanted no other man to possess her. And Mel wanted Val Drakul to own her. To love her … to have her … body, mind and spirit. To be her man and she to be his woman alone. She pulled away and sprang to her feet. Val followed suit. “Melynda? What is it?” Grinning, she trailed a finger down the plane of his cheek. “What are you waiting for, Mr. Photog? We’ve got a nude model shoot to set up. My place or yours?” **** Mel never felt more desirable in her life. Nude modeling was no big deal to her—she had done some “life modeling” in college in order to pay her art studio fees—but this time was different. She was posing for a man who found her desirable, sexy, enchanting. The way Val’s black eyes roamed her white curves made her feel like he was stroking her, petting her, begging her to climax at his mere look. She wanted to make love to this man more than anything, and her bed only stood a few yards away… “Val? Are you going to take my picture or not?” “Almost.” He adjusted the focus for about the hundredth time and stepped back, his hand on the shutter release. “Hold very still. Since I’m using natural lighting the shutter
speed will be extremely slow, on the order of two seconds. Try not to breathe.” “Breathe? I’m trying hard not to sneeze. My fat derrière hanging out is a little chilly for some reason. Promise you’ll warm me up afterwards?” He chuckled. “I’ll warm your sweet cheeks up all right. Now, stop talking and stand very, very still…” Mel held her breath, willing her body to freeze in place like a marble statue. Val clicked the shutter release button and mentally counted the seconds before closing it. Somehow the idea of being paralyzed, unable to move, seemed oddly familiar to Mel as if she had experienced something similar only a day or so ago. “You can relax now.” He removed the exposed film plate from the portrait camera and inserted a new one. “Let me pose you a little differently this time. More of a side shot than from behind.” “I thought you liked my behind,” she purred. If she didn’t get the man out of his clothes and into her sheets soon she’d explode. She had to talk him into taking a break. “Won’t that show my face? I thought you didn’t want other men looking at my face.” “Not if you sit on the arm of the couch like this.” Val sat her down like she was a child posing for a school portrait. “And turn your head this way.” He gently moved her chin to the right. “And cross your legs just so.” Mel jumped as he brushed the sensitive skin of her thighs while positioning her in a cross-legged position. He grinned. “Sorry for the cold hands. It’s because I keep the photographic plates in the fridge.” “Hmm, typical bachelor. Beer on the floor, film in the fridge. I know exactly where you can warm those cold hands up later.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I bet. Don’t worry. This won’t take much longer if you cooperate.” “I’m cooperating.” She sighed dramatically. “I’m ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.” Chuckling, Val re-position the camera and tinkered with the focus. “Stay still. One, two, three—freeze.” The sound of the click and the whir of the shutter displaced the silence momentarily and then it was over. Mel unfolded her stiff limbs from the unnatural position and rolled onto her stomach onto the couch, pillowing her head with her arms. Val removed the plate and slid it into his portable cooler for safekeeping. “I can’t wait to see how these turn out.” He sat beside her, massaging her back and shoulders. “With such inspiration I have a feeling they’ll be some of my best pictures yet.” “Hmm, flattery will get you everywhere.” Mel yawned, a puddle of flesh melting beneath his relaxing touch. “I mean it … it’s just that…” She yawned again. “I’m not used to these late nights.” “It’s only three forty-five. Can’t you call the construction workers and tell them to arrive at a later time so you can sleep in? Melynda?” The soft sound of snoring was her only reply. Val sighed. “It’s going to take a lot of give-and-take in order for this relationship to work.” Tenderly he scooped his beloved from the sofa and carried her into the bedroom. He tucked her up into bed, switched on the dim bedside lamp and lay beside her. “Maybe a few minutes of shut-eye will do the trick. Or else I’m going to have to
look into purchasing some seriously powerful sun block.” A mist began to pool at the foot of the bed, gradually coalescing into a human form. Val groaned. “Uncle Vlad? What rock did you crawl out from under? And why don’t you learn to knock?” The older vampire dusted off his crimson silk vest and smoothed back his black hair with his palm. “Actually I did crawl out from under a rock. Did you know most of this area of St. Louis is riddled with caves? I found a very nice one to call home right under the Lemp Mansion. It comes complete with a couple of old beer barrels.” “Good for you. So, this means you’re not going back to the Old Country anytime soon I take it?” “Why should I? If my nephew can find happiness in the great city of St. Louis, then why can’t I?” Vlad looked upon Mel’s sleeping form and shook his head. “I see your witty repartee really helps to keep the beautiful Melynda awake.” Val clenched his fists at his side. “Thanks for the compliment. Will you go now?” “Is that anyway to talk to your uncle?” Vlad began to pace the bedroom area. “I’ve left you two alone as you wish and this is how you treat me?” “You were here just last night, Uncle, in case you’ve forgotten. I’ve been keeping a watch on Melynda and she appears to be none the wiser about our kind. But if you continue to interfere in our relationship … well, I won’t be responsible when she finds out what you are.” “You mean when she finds out what you are. We are two of a kind.” “Yes, we are. But to protect Melynda I’m willing to risk losing her respect and love. I’m willing to pay the ultimate price.” Vlad froze. “You mean … you can’t be serious, Valentine. It could be the end of all the Kindred if humans found out about us. No, I won’t let you do such a foolish thing. You have sworn to protect our honor and safety. You shall make Melynda one of us— and as quickly as possible.” “I will not go against her wishes, Uncle.” Val stood and faced down his kinsman. “I do not believe Melynda desires to join the ranks of the undead. I’m not going to make the same mistake I made with Serena. There is no way I’ll ever subject a woman to that mental anguish again. Mel will know all about what she will become and make her decision accordingly.” “Decision? Ha! When has becoming one of us ever involved a democratic process?” Their dark eyes locked in battle for a moment before Vlad backed off. “Be reasonable, Valentine. No one ever asked us if we wanted to become vampires. I adjusted quite nicely once I discovered my new powers. So did you. Melynda will do likewise.” “But she will make the decision for herself. It will not be taken from her.” “We’ll see … we’ll see. Until later, dear Nephew.” Vlad’s form swirled into the mist and vanished. Val leaned his forehead against the rough plasterboard wall and grimaced. “Shit. Just my luck. The Kindred can’t leave well enough alone. Why can’t I be a loner? Why can’t I be left to exist as I see fit and to love whom I want to love?” “Love?” Mel’s voice sounded half-asleep but insistent. “You love me?” “Melynda, shh. Go back to sleep. You’re dreaming. You’re tired.”
“Yes, I’m tired,” she said, glomming onto the suggestion. “But you say you love me. I love you, too, Valentine. Come to bed with me. Please.” “How can I resist such a kind offer?” Grinning, he kicked off his shoes, discarded his black T-shirt and jeans and crawled under the covers beside her. She laid her head upon his chest and lightly stroked the hair on his chest and arms, humming with satisfaction. “Very nice,” she said, sighing, “but I meant come to bed without any clothes on. I’m not wearing any.” “Ah, that’s because you were my nude model earlier. Do you want me to model for you?” “Yes, please.” Val gently wriggled out from under her clutches and stood at the side of the bed. He turned around and slowly began to lower his boxers, pausing halfway, clenching his firm buttocks and slipping the silky material up and down in a teasing fashion. “Take it off—take it all off!” Mel cried, throwing back the covers and motioning with a finger. “I don’t have any cash on me to tuck in your g-string, Mr. Chippendales. You’ll have to take it out in trade.” He spun around and grinned. “May I?” “Yes, you may. Now, get those boxers all the way off, big boy, before I rip them off with my teeth—like you did last night with my thong.” How could he refuse the lady’s request? Val quickly pulled down his shorts and kicked them away, freeing his pent up cock. How could she make him so hard with just one look, one naughty gesture? The mere thought of making love to Melynda could make him climax if he wasn’t too careful. He hopped into bed and crushed her curves to his form. Their lips locked and their tongues met in a mutual dance of desire and need. He stroked her full breasts and kissed the delicate skin at the base of her throat, thrilling at the pulse near the carotid artery. The smell of her blood burned within him. It took all his effort to sheath his fangs and focus his hunger towards pleasuring her in more conventional methods. He massaged her clit with a finger, feeling how wet she was. She groaned and arched her back in response. She was more than ready. “Mmm … Melynda, I can’t help it. I must make love to you.” She moaned. “I was hoping you’d say that. Is it okay? I mean, I’m your first, right?” “First?” “First time to go all the way.” Val paused, remembering what he had told her the night before. “Uh, yes, you’re right. It is my first time. You promise to be gentle with me?” She gave a throaty chuckle. “No promises, big boy. But you’ll enjoy it all the same.” Mel rolled Val to his back and rained kisses upon him from his hairline to waist, savoring his nipples for extra treatment. He arched his erection closer to her full lips and cried out as she twirled her tongue around its engorged head until he could almost stand it no longer. “Now, lie still and let me straddle that huge cock of yours and take it in slowly, for my sake as much as for yours. I don’t want to hurt you.” Hurt him? She was afraid of hurting him? Val sighed. She could never hurt him … not like he could hurt her—eternally.
“It won’t hurt. I love you, Melynda. I want to be inside you, a part of you. Completely.” “You really do love me.” One crystalline tear graced her cheek. She quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand. “I don’t know why yet, Val, but I love you, too. I feel like we’re destined to be together—forever.” Mel flung a leg across his hips and lowered her body until the tip of his hard-on barely brushed the fine hairs circling her opening. She swayed back and forth, enjoying the sensation as his hands firmly caressed her hips and buttocks. “We can stop now if you like, or we can go on,” she murmured. Val felt his fangs growing, lengthening. The heat of the moment and the musky scent of her sex and soft, warm flesh were intoxicating. Together they dissolved his inhibitions. He felt the overwhelming urge to thrust his canines into her neck and drink of her goodness, to taste and savor the sweetness of her blood. But no! He couldn’t do it. A strangled cry erupted unbidden from his throat. Mel’s green eyes widened with concern. She backed off. “Am I hurting you? We can stop.” He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back to him. “No. Please, please go on. I can’t wait … I can’t…” He plunged his cock all the way into her slick passage with one swift stroke. “Yes, yes!” Mel threw back her head and cried in triumph. She rocked her hips in time with the primitive beating of her heart. It had hurt a bit at the moment of penetration, but then came the warm rush of joy, the sensations of blissful pleasure, rapturous delight… He responded to her shouts of encouragement with a counterpoint of thrusts, deeper and stronger with every stroke. For a virgin, he certainly seemed to know what he was doing, and he was doing it well. “Harder, yes, harder. Hmm, that’s nice.” Mel panted, swiveling her hips with greater fervor, her pussy muscles instinctively tensing around his rigid member. “Don’t worry—I like it hard. Fuck me as hard as you can.” “I make love to you, Melynda. I do not choose to call what we do together by that crass name.” She blinked and looked down at him. Funny, Val’s mouth appeared swollen, larger than normal, as if she had kissed him too long and too hard. His words even came out as if he was talking with his cheeks full of cotton after dental surgery. “I’m sorry to be so crude. Make love to me harder then. Harder, please?” He obliged her with several massive thrusts. He clasped her breasts and tweaked her rosy nipples, now engorged and sensitive to his touch. Mel shrieked, arching her neck backward, her long, black tresses tumbling down behind. “Oh, God, that’s it. That’s the spot.” She panted as the tension built quickly and intensely. “I’m almost… You’re almost … I’m about to…” The culmination of their mutual climax began, rippling outward from her drenched pussy, shuddering along her arms and legs and finally exploding before her eyes in a Technicolor symphony of hues. Val thrust deeper still and shared in Mel’s song of ecstasy. With a final shout, she collapsed onto his chest. Reaching up, she tenderly stroked his cheeks. Strange… What exactly did he have in his mouth that was so hard? And his jaws felt like they were going to burst if he kept them clenched any tighter.
“Val? You okay? You’re not gnashing your teeth by chance, are you?” “Melynda—sleep!” Her instantly eyes snapped shut as exhaustion overpowered her senses. **** “Sorry about dropping off so quickly last night.” Mel breathed out a long sigh. “I’ve never been much of a night owl. Or a morning person when you come to think of it. I guess I’m more of an ‘Afternoon Delight’ person.” Val smiled at her admission but kept his concentration on focusing the shot. The angle of the panel bar’s shadows falling against the reflective surface was perfect. The cantilevered glass wall of the Jewel Box made a fascinating composition. “I understand, and there’s no need to apologize. Will you hand me that lens on top, please?” Mel rolled to her side to search the camera bag sitting beside her on the blanket. “You mean this humongous thing?” She lifted it up for his inspection. “Right. And please, don’t drop it. That thing is worth more than my truck.” “Oops. Sorry.” Mel made a silly face but held the lens tightly. “At first I thought this was some kind of ‘adult toy’, but I know better. You definitely don’t need any extra devices to pleasure a woman.” Val returned her teasing look with one of his own then squatted down to accept the 210mm telephoto from her. “Next I thought it was a protection device,” she continued. “I figured something so long and heavy came in handy when you’re out working all alone in the night.” “I don’t need protection. Darkness is my friend.” Val carefully switched lenses out. “Well, I have to admit that working third shift does save on make-up for a gal. Not many people are out so you don’t have to worry about your wardrobe much either.” Mel leaned back on her elbow and studied him thoughtfully. “Still, it must be lonely at times. Are you ever lonely?” Val picked up the shutter release and stepped back before clicking the first series of photos. “Sometimes. But tonight I have your company and that’s all that matters.” “And your photography. I can tell how dedicated you are to your art. I bet you’re happy they didn’t tear this place down after the 1904 World’s Fair.” “That’s a myth. There were other greenhouses in Forest Park at the time of the World’s Fair, but the Jewel Box wasn’t one of them. The Works Progress Administration built this sparkling glass building in 1936. I’m just glad it’s been fully restored, a testament to recent improvements in Forest Park.” “You know so many details about local historical events—like you lived here when they happened.” Not quite, but Vlad and I both seriously considered attending the 1904 World’s Fair … Not that you’d ever believe me. “I’m a history buff. It’s a hobby,” Val simply said. “And shopping? Is that one of your hobbies, too? I’m far from being a shopaholic like my cousin Shelby, but when do you go shopping for those exciting silky boxers of yours?” He chuckled. “Catalogs. Online, too. The Internet is open twenty-four-seven.” “I see.” She scrunched up her nose and eyes in thought. She didn’t appear convinced.
“How about groceries?” she ventured. “You must have some helper who shops for your food unless you hang out at all-night diners. And by the size of your svelte waistline, I don’t think so.” Val picked up the camera tripod and moved it over to the left to try a new perspective. “I detest coffee and doughnuts.” “Really?” Mel took a swig from her bottle of Starbuck’s Mocha Frappuccino. “Caffeine is the only way I’m keeping my eyes open tonight. And who can live without Krispy Kremes?” “I’m a red meat lover myself.” “I noticed. I mean, I couldn’t help noticing those brawny arms and chest of yours. Protein shakes and all that jazz, right?” He lowered the tripod and crouched behind the viewfinder to line up the shot he wanted. “I’m not much into weightlifter supplements, but I do enjoy a good steak.” Preferably with the blood still pulsing through it, Val thought. But he couldn’t say so out loud without scaring Mel away. “I’m good friends with the night butcher over at the Schnucks on South Grand. Morty always has the best cuts of beef ready for me at two a.m. He says with my shopping pattern, I beat the rush. There’s never any waiting in the checkout line, either.” Mel laughed, laying flat on the blanket. “No doubt. Maybe I ought to try grocery shopping in the wee morning hours.” “You should.” He returned his attention to the shot set up. A minute later, the sound of Mel softly snoring drifted on the breeze. “My scintillating conversation really keeps you awake, huh?” Mel snorted and moaned then slowly sat back up. “I’m sorry. Did I doze off again?” “A little. Maybe I ought to take you home now.” “No, no, no,” she insisted. “You finish your photographs. It’s fascinating looking at the glittering Jewel Box against the black of the night sky. It’s kind of the opposite of what it was built for really, since it’s suppose to trap the sun’s rays and keep the plants happy inside.” “I’m an odd one I admit. I see the beauty of the structure at night while everyone else marvels at it by day.” “Too bad it’s closed after dark. You can’t go inside and see the flowers.” Val shrugged and began snapping another series of shots. “Yeah, that’s too bad.” “That’s the one thing I miss about Dodge City, my little flower garden out back. It’s the one thing that kept me sane the last few years before I got the dirt of Ken’s affairs thrown at me. I wonder if Shelby will let me place some planters in the windows of the warehouse.” Mel yawned and lay back, her eyes fluttering close. Soon her head dropped to the side and a soft moan escaped her kissable lips. Val finished the shoot then knelt beside his sleeping beauty. Stroking her blue-black hair fanned out against the quilt, his gaze lingered at the throbbing pulse at the base of her swan-like neck. Forest Park was silent and dark—the perfect place for a lovers’ rendezvous. A little nibble? She wouldn’t mind. Isn’t that how he and Serena met? In a London park one summer evening under a full moon… He leaned closer. The sweet, floral scent of her bath oil still clung to Mel’s skin. Tart and tangy she’d taste. One small bite and she wouldn’t notice.
But could he stop? One small sip of her deliciously warm life force and then another and another… Soon Serena had gladly given herself to him and accepted her impending destiny as one of the Kindred. Strengthened by his lover’s blood, Val’s vampire powers increased. Direct sunlight no longer affected him as it once had and he could easily transform into mist or bat or bird on a whim. Serena had been fascinated and encouraged him to expand and explore his supernatural talents. But Serena’s abrupt death and sudden resurrection changed her mind. How she had pleaded for release from the curse of endless darkness and the craving for blood. Her cries—her agonizing cries still echoed down through the centuries, haunting his nights and accusing what remained of his conscience. Never again! Val pulled away from Mel and grabbed his camera gear. He collapsed the tripod and packed the rest his stuff, stowing both into the truck bed. Then he gently wrapped the quilt about his sleeping lover and lifted her up, carrying her to his waiting vehicle. Mel would never have anything to fear from him, Val silently vowed. He would control his blood lust. He would be a man even if the lack of proper sustenance condemned him to a limited existence in the shadows.
Chapter Six His gift once again proved its worth. Van Helsing smiled inwardly as his secretary handed him the printed confirmation of his suspicions. That silly real estate agent’s puny wits had been easy to pick—and control. She’d quickly revealed to him the means to how he’d catch his prey. Her cousin, a Ms. Melynda Schwartz Kerpanik, dwelled in the same building as Valentine Drakul, a building soon to be subdivided into lofts. Van Helsing knew he was limited in reading the thoughts and probing the minds of his vampire foes, but it didn’t prevent him from manipulating and using their friends and neighbors against them. Studying the photo his office staff had tracked down on the Internet, he had to admit that the kindergarten art teacher wasn’t quite what he expected. No shrinking violet this one, no gray-haired, hunch-backed biddy in thick glasses… Melynda Kerpanik was a striking woman. A sexy white stripe divided her long, black hair in twain. Her lopsided smile intimated she possessed a quirky sense of humor. But it was the intensity of her emerald green eyes that seized his imagination. Such intelligence, such dazzling personality. Did she possess the gift as well? “I can’t wait to meet you, my dear,” Van Helsing murmured, pressing the picture close to his heart. A familiar stirring in his groin validated his attraction to the beautiful unknown who willingly or not would become his spy. The spy that would lead to Drakula and the fiend’s eternal destruction. And afterward? Well, as his grandmother had taught him, it was a sin to waste something that could be used twice. And he would enjoy using Ms. Kerpanik. Over and over again… Van Helsing tossed back his head and laughed. Soon both her body and her mind would be his for the taking. And if she didn’t cooperate? So much the better. He enjoyed chastising an insolent lover as much as he enjoyed tracking down and destroying a soulless ghoul. Reaching into his lower desk drawer, he tenderly stroked the camel leather whip he’d bought on his last trip to Morocco. The smooth, hard surface of the handle and the memories of his last lover’s pleas for mercy hardened his erection. He slammed the drawer shut, striding from the office. He had to visit his new loverto-be before he exploded. **** Two days later, Shelby’s voice sounded strained yet excited over the phone. “Mel? Mr. Van Helsing is in town… and he’s coming over there. Now.” “Great day in the morning!” Mel almost dropped her cell phone in shock. Shelby seemed to love surprises. Too bad she didn’t. “You didn’t give us much warning, Shel. The painters are still working in the dining area, and the chandelier is still in the box. I thought this dude was coming next week. Everything will be finished in this particular loft and completely decorated by Monday.
Can’t you stall him a little—buy us a little time?” “I’ve tried. I honestly tried. I used every stalling tactic in the book and then some, but the man is a real go-getter. Once he gets it into his head he wants something he takes it. There’s no stopping him.” “Crud.” Mel kicked the bucket in front of her and sloshed the filmy liquid back onto the Mexican kitchen tile she had just cleaned. This was her big break, her big chance to impress the heck out of somebody who really mattered in the business world and could give her great references in the future. If she screwed up this assignment … it could very well be her last. And she’d disappoint both herself and her favorite cousin. “I guess it can’t be helped then.” She sighed and flung down her sponge. “The electrical outlets are wired for the most part, and the plumbing has been working beautifully all this past week…” Mel smiled at the memory of last night’s “bathtub party”. The intimate bathing for two had been thoroughly enjoyable. She could think of nothing better in the world to do than scour off a hard day’s work worth of grime with a handsome neighbor. The garden styled tub, big enough for two—barely—had been perfect. The frothy water glimmered in the candlelight, its iridescent colors along with the scents of musk and jasmine lulling them into cozy relaxation. Slowly she had massaged the warm, fragrant bath oil across the rock solid muscles of Val’s shoulders and biceps, luxuriating in the feel of his slippery-smooth skin beneath her fingertips. Not a freckle or mole to be found—if only she could be so lucky. “You have the best muscle tone I’ve ever seen on a guy.” Mel had snuggled close behind Val while she scrubbed his back. “Not an ounce of flab on you,” she said, dipping a hand between his thighs with a giggle, “and perfectly proportioned.” He leaned back against her bubble-coated breasts and grinned. “Thanks. I work hard at keeping in shape.” “It shows. You must tell me all about your diet sometime.” “I’d rather not.” “Oh, come on. It’s not a secret, is it? You’re not doing steroids or anything illegal like that, are you?” He pulled away slightly from her touch. “Well, no … I just don’t want to think about it now, particularly since I have such a delectable morsel sitting here beside me.” He tilted her chin and brought her lips to his, pressing gently at first, then with more unbridled fervor, kissing away any curiosity she may have ever harbored in regards to his personal habits. Moisture doting her brow, Mel gasped for breath when at last he released her. “If that’s part of your exercise program then sign me up right now. It’s got to burn a lot of calories.” Val chuckled. “And it’s infinitely more fun than either jogging or weight training.” “Clothing optional, too, a perk which I find particularly attractive.” Mel wound her fingers through Val’s thick, lush hair and tugged his face toward hers, demonstrating some advance lip exercises of her own. They extinguished the votive candles one by one, their ardent maneuvers sloshing water over the sides of the tub. Strangely enough, the darker the bathroom became the more Mel sensed Val felt at home. He easily turned himself around and drew her into his lap, thrusting his cock home as she sat facing him.
“Hmm … now this is how everyone should take a bath,” she purred, pulsing her hips forward in sync with his deep thrusts. “Wipe clean my brain cells as you wipe clean other parts of my anatomy.” “Like this?” He gently massaged her breasts, rubbing her rosy nipples to rapt attention. His hands wandered languidly down her spine, caressing her bottom and then her excited clit. “I’d love to become your own personal bather. That is, if you’ll hire me.” “I’ll seriously consider it.” Mel bucked her mound against the pressure of his fingers and was rewarded with quivers of bliss building low in her belly. “But first you must pass my test … ah! That’s it. A little harder now and faster.” “Am I making a good first impression?” Val gave a low throaty chuckle, pounding his hard-on into her faster and harder as she commanded. “Say you’ll hire me, or else I won’t keep up my good work.” “Keep it up… You … are … hired!” Mel had screamed as ecstasy overtook them both, their rapturous cries reverberating off the tiled walls and throughout the empty warehouse… “Mel? You still there?” Shelby’s irritated voice interrupted Mel’s hot-blooded daydreaming. “Anything the matter?” Mel blushed. “Uh, no. It’s nothing. I’m just thinking what to do with the workers here while Mr. Moneybags visits.” “Tell them to take a union-length coffee break. That should keep them occupied for at least an hour.” “Ha, ha. But that’s a good idea. I’ll try to sweep the sawdust into one of the corners. Mr. Moneybags will have to get a feel for the place as it is, sans decoration. After all, he wants to buy the top floor you said, right?” “Right. And take him up to the top floor and show him around a little for me, won’t you?” “Sure. But aren’t you accompanying him? You’re the realtor lady. Aren’t you going to at least pop in while he’s here?” Shelby’s tone became flat, mechanical, as if the words were not of her own choosing. “I can’t make it, Mel. Sorry.” “Whatever do you mean?” Mel felt her pulse racing in unplanned panic. She clutched the phone tighter and bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry, but I can’t make it,” Shelby repeated. “Shelby Schwarz, you’ve got a hot client here. A red-hot client. Is this any way for a real estate broker to act?” “I know I should be there, but it’s … it’s Graham. He just phoned me, and he’s had an upsetting day. He wants me to come home early so we can discuss things. Between my job and my marriage, you know which one comes first.” I would have thought in this case it was the job. Glad to know that I was wrong, Mel thought, sighing. “All right, Shel. I’ll show Mr. Money—er, Mr. Van Helsing, the top floor for you. But I’m afraid it’s not going to impress him very much. I’ve barely had a chance to sweep it out and move a few old crates against the walls. It’s essentially an ugly warehouse floor with one heck of a view.” “That’s what I’m depending on to sell it to him. He says he’d like to be able to see the brewery from his window.”
“See it? You can smell it on a good day.” Mel rubbed her temples. “Okay, I’d better go now. I’m a complete mess myself. I’d better change into something a bit more presentable.” “Yes, please do. Look pretty and wow him for me.” “Wow him. Yeah, right. I feel more like ka-powing the pompous fool if you want to know the truth. But I won’t. I’ll do my best.” “Thanks, Mel. You’re a great cousin, you know that?” “Sure I am. Remind me of that the next time I ask you for a loan. Bye now.” Mel clicked off the cell phone and crammed it back into her overall pocket then emptied the wash bucket’s contents down the drain. She whistled for Ray the foreman and told him and the boys to take thirty somewhere out of sight whenever they saw Mr. Van Helsing arrive. Then she retrieved a recently washed sundress from the clothes basket and headed into the bathroom to change. Undoing the bandana that kept her long locks out of the way while cleaning, Mel grabbed a brush and furiously began to work the bristles through her blue-black hair until it shined. She needn’t feel too nervous she reminded herself. Things were pretty much under control here. Her cream-colored, overstuffed sofa was the only piece of furniture in the front room, but it didn’t detract too much from the overall ambiance of the raw red brick and exposed wooden beam motif. Her mattress and box springs in the master bedroom area did lack sophistication, but she didn’t have access to a magnificent kingsized bed with a ten-foot-high, silk netting, draped canopy within the next ten minutes. Too bad the man couldn’t wait a few days. Shelby had made arrangements with some upper-class furniture store to showcase some of their nicer pieces so the lofts looked “homey” when people toured them. The twelve-foot long dining table and the chandelier on the ceiling would have been impressive. “Oh, well, what Mr. Moneybags sees is what he gets.” Mel put down the brush and stared at her reflection in the mirror. With a touch of blush and a little lip-gloss, she didn’t look half bad. In fact, she looked downright foxy. Her maroon spaghetti-strapped, crisscross back sundress complimented her hair and skin tones perfectly. She slid her feet into her only pair of dress sandals—black sparklystrapped heels. With a pair of black onyx crystal drop earrings the look was complete. Damn! She looked good enough to eat. The late nights with her new lover were just the thing to make her feel like a woman again, a sexy, desirable woman. If she could sell this Dutch dude the top floor in its current dilapidated condition, maybe she should look into getting a real estate license herself. A loud knock on the door broke through her reverie. “I wish that was Val, but I know it isn’t.” She stood straighter and gave her dress one last smoothing in the mirror. “All right. Here goes nothing.” Mel exited the bathroom and nodded at the workers to depart. From the intensity of the guys’ stares and the drool on their chins, she could tell that she looked hot—blistering hot. As the last of the paint-splattered workforce filtered out of the loft, a tall, broadshouldered, blond god robed in a light gray Armani suit and expensive Gucci shoes sauntered in. “Mr. Van Helsing?” Mel offered her hand. “I’m Mel—Melynda Kerpanik. Shelby told me that you were coming today. It’s so nice to meet you.” “Please, call me Leo.” His voice was a rich, smooth baritone with a touch of a sexy
accent that made Mel practically wet her thong. He shook her hand firmly and held onto a moment longer than necessary, his piercing gray-blue eyes meeting hers boldly and without apology. “And I shall call you … beautiful.” Mel stepped back and covered her burning cheeks with her hands. “Thank you. But ‘Mel’ works just fine. I apologize that this first model isn’t quite ready to be shown, but I hope it gives you a feel for the Falstaff Warehouse Lofts.” His gaze danced up and down her form. “I’m getting quite a feel, yes.” He walked further into the room and sat on the sofa, elegantly crossing his legs and patting the cushion beside him. “Come, sit and tell me more about how you plan to decorate, Mel.” “Thanks.” Lame! She sounded like some besotted idiot. She stumbled over to the couch and carefully sat beside this living Adonis, unable to tear her eyes from his classicalhandsome features. His strong chin and high cheekbones perfectly balanced his deep, piercing eyes. It was the voice, she told herself. Something about that masculine, honeyed tone and cute European-accented English that made her feel like butter on a hotplate. Had he ever made a movie? He seemed oddly familiar. “You look as if you recognize me,” he said, interrupting her wayward thoughts. “I’m happy to learn that my commercials are making an impact in the public’s awareness.” “Oh, so that’s where I’ve seen you before. You’re in that beer ad. You’re the sophisticated, man-about-town guy that attracts all the well-dressed women.” Mel shook her head to clear the cobwebs and to force herself to stop staring at her guest. “I didn’t think many executives made commercials, but I can see why they chose you to be in one.” “Thank you. I actually volunteered. The ad agency couldn’t find the successful businessman type we were trying to portray in the ad so I stepped in. The rest is history.” “Instant fame, huh? Must be weird getting asked for your autograph all the time.” “I’ve been asked for a few other things from time to time that are ‘weirder.’” He chuckled and leaned toward her. “Is that a real word in English—‘weirder?’” Mel edged away. His expensive cologne was understated, yet powerfully masculine. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be asking him what color boxers he wore next. “I’m pretty sure ‘weirder’ is a word. But then again, I was an art major with a graphic design minor in college. English wasn’t exactly my best subject.” “Nor mine. I always did better in classes that dealt with numbers and hard, cold facts.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice as if sharing an intimate secret. “That’s why I want to employ a charming and creative artist such as you to decorate my new home. I need a place that is both functional and friendly. I mix business with pleasure— frequently.” She nodded. “I understand completely.” Sure I do. That’s probably why there’s no current Mrs. Moneybags. You mixed it up with the chicks in the commercials one too many times, and the old lady packed her things and left. Mel blinked and averted her eyes from his piercing blues. She was beginning to see the cracks in Leo Van Helsing’s polished façade. Like a two-way mirror, his shining physical presence covered something darker and more ominous lying underneath. In spite of her desire to see if the humongous bulge in his crotch was for real, she almost felt
repelled by the man’s disingenuous manner. Still, her personal misgivings about his character didn’t give her the right to kick the man out of Shelby’s piece of prime real estate. “Would you like a tour of this first model?” she asked in her most professional tone of voice. “It will give you some idea what we had in mind for the others.” He raised a golden eyebrow and pursed his lips. “Certainly. But you will show me the rest of the building, won’t you?” “Of course.” Mel stood and started toward the kitchen area. “Shelby told me specifically to show you the top floor. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll…” “The basement?” He crossed quickly to stand close beside her. “You will allow me to tour the lowest floor as well?” The fine hairs on the back of Mel’s neck tingled at his light touch on her shoulder. Something didn’t feel right. Something was off here. She plastered her most business-like smile across her face and took a deep breath before replying, “I’m afraid we already have a tenant living in the basement apartment. I can’t show you that floor.” “But how will I know if the foundation is strong enough to hold all my new walls and furniture?” He flashed her the come-on grin again, lowering his lashes just enough so she couldn’t quite read his look. “It’s not unusual for a buyer to want to see if there are any cracks in the basement walls so they can tell if the building is settling or not.” His cold, logical reasoning stumped her. It made perfect sense. But then, Leo Van Helsing wasn’t buying the entire building, just the top floor according to Shelby. Besides, she wasn’t the landlord and didn’t possess a key to Val’s apartment. She couldn’t just barge in on him in the middle of the day. It wouldn’t be neighborly. “I … I have to contact Shelby first about giving you a tour of the entire building. Is that all right?” “That will be acceptable.” He pulled his hand away from Mel’s shoulder and entered the cooking area. “Lovely cabinetry. I would prefer something darker, with less wood accents. And marble countertops.” “That’s easily arranged. Now if you’ll excuse me a moment, I’ll contact Shelby. Feel free to look around.” Mel dashed from the kitchen and pulled the dividing curtains around the bedroom area shut. Where did she hide that cell phone of hers? After several minutes of fruitless searching—on the night table, under the bed, in her purse, in the trunk—she felt like kicking herself in the pants. “Ah, that’s it. The phone is in my pants pockets—what I was wearing earlier.” Mel groaned and was turning around to retrieve the filthy garment from the clothes hamper when the curtains suddenly and loudly parted. She jumped. “I missed you.” “Oh, Mr. Van Helsing.” She swallowed a baseball-sized lump in her throat and coughed. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to take so long. It’s just that I couldn’t find my cell phone and I…” “Here, use mine.” He approached her at the bedside and handed her a slim, silver device that could have been one of a hundred other things in Mel’s opinion but a phone. “You speak in the other end.” He pointed to both the gadget and her slack-jawed expression. “Ms. Schwartz’s number is already dialed.”
“Thank you.” Mel put the phone to her ear. “Hello, Shel?” Van Helsing took a step closer and wound his arm around her upper shoulders. A feeling of déjà vu overwhelmed Mel as her eyes caught sight of a small, shimmering crystalline object in Van Helsing’s hand. “You have to push the send button like so.” Mesmerized by his closeness and the sparkling lights pulsing before her eyes, she forgot to breathe. “Gateway Real Estate,” a voice said on the other end. “Hello? Is anyone there?” “Oh.” Mel felt trapped in the fog that had enveloped her. “This is Mel Kerpanik. Is my cousin Shelby there by chance?” “No, she’s stepped out for the rest of the day. Can I take your name and number and have her call you back tomorrow?” Van Helsing shook his head no. “No, thank you,” Mel said automatically. “Good-bye.” She handed the phone back to him, her focus drifting from the crystal to his commanding blue eyes. “Did you see the dining area and bathroom yet?” “Yes. They are both very elegant. The window treatments are particularly effective. And this,” he said, encircling her body with his other arm, “must be the bedroom?” Mel tried to pull away, but she felt trapped like a fly in a spider’s web. “Yes. In this smaller model we’ve left the walls to a minimum and installed the surrounding curtain for privacy and…” The words stuck in her throat as he began to lightly stroke her neck with his lithe fingers. She couldn’t breathe … she couldn’t move… “So beautiful,” he murmured in a low, suave tone. “So very, very beautiful. And no scars.” “Scars?” “Marks. The marks of the family Drakula. I half-expected you were on your way to becoming one of the Kindred by now.” “The Kindred?” His hands dropped lower to fondle her breasts through the thin material of her dress. “Yes. When I heard you were actually living above a Drakula I had assumed he had made you one of his own. Hmm … odd. I can see that you are untouched.” “Untouched?” “Not bitten. I wonder why, too. My ancestors have been tracking the Drakula for centuries. This is the first time I’ve ever encountered an unravished female living in such close proximity.” Van Helsing began to laugh with a sinister, bone-chilling merriment that bode evil would soon be afoot. “Maybe I’ve discovered the first gay vampire!” “Val is definitely not gay,” Mel insisted. “He’s all male—every last ten and a half inches of him.” His golden eyebrows arched sardonically. “Is that so? Then you’re not completely untouched? He has claimed you as his own. Good, good.” “Good?” He slipped a hand under her top and twisted her nipple hard. Mel gasped. “Yes, it’s good for me. I’ll enjoy the challenge of claiming you back to the land of the living.” Van Helsing yanked her body to his and plunged a hand under her dress, making
quick passage to her crotch. He moaned with satisfaction as he rubbed her clit hard and licked her neck. “Hmm, nice. Very nice. We will do well together, Melynda Kerpanik. You will act as my spy and help me corner my prey. You will enjoy it and so will I. I guarantee it.” Mel’s knees felt like buckling. She wanted to scream, to run, but she couldn’t. She was trapped in a spiraling world of color and lights flashing before her eyes as a madman groped her most private parts… “Hey, Mel!” Ray the foreman’s gravelly voice sliced like a beam of sunshine through the thick haze that had mothballed her brain. “Is it all right if we come up and finish the chandelier wiring and the painting now?” “Yes!” Mel managed from her frozen lips. The spell broke and she struggled to get away from Van Helsing’s clutches. “Come on up, Ray, and bring the boys.” “Gotcha.” “But our little tour isn’t over yet.” Van Helsing raised his hand with the flashing crystal. His calm tone held unspoken menace. “First, you will forget all about our little tête-à-tête in the bedroom. In fact, you will only remember how charming I am, and how much you want to accompany me to dinner tonight.” She kicked him hard in the shins. “Fat chance. I understand now why Val acts so secretive—he has to deal with bastards like you in the world.” He raised his hand as if to strike her then paused. “No. I will not harm you—yet. You will forget what you’ve learned. Look into my palm, Mel. You see the pretty crystal I carry? Yes, continue watching it. When I count to three you will come out of your hypnotized state and not remember a thing that passed between us in this room. One, two, three!” Mel found herself sitting on the edge of her bed. She felt as if she’d been asleep for a thousand years. Rubbing her temples, she looked up. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you standing there. I haven’t found my cell phone yet. Can I borrow yours?” “Of course.” Van Helsing reached into his suit jacket then paused. “On second thought, let’s not bother your cousin right now. I can see the basement some other time. You said you’d take me up to the top floor next.” “So, I did.” Mel slowly rose to her feet. Strange, her body felt all wobbly like she’d been turned into Jell-O. But she didn’t have time to reflect upon her unusual predicament now. She had a rich client to impress. “Follow me.”
Chapter Seven “So when will the change occur?” Vlad scratched his chin thoughtfully, awkwardly leaning back into the squishy lump of stuffing called a ‘bean bag chair’. Esmeralda Groenig was definitely the most direct of the women he had ever initiated into the Kindred. Gone were the days in the Old Country when a vampire could simply swoop down on some unsuspecting peasant girl and enjoy a quick snack and a roll in the hay. Women nowadays existed on being treated as equals. The name of the game was equality in all matters. “How will it happen?” Esme insisted, stirring natural honey into her herbal tea. “You must partake of my life force—after I’ve partaken of yours. Then we will share the same antibodies toward death.” She raised an eyebrow. “Life force?” “Blood, my dear. The life force is in the blood.” “But I’m a vegetarian. Well, a pseudo-vegetarian. I eat eggs, cheese and dairy products along with the occasional piece of fish and Chicken McNuggets. I’m not much into the red meat thing.” Esme put down her “Save the Whales” mug on the coffee table and began pacing the small parlor of her upstairs flat. Vlad watched her with trepidation and genuine fear. Would she decide against the transformation? Would she refuse to join the Kindred? Would she laugh at the gift of eternal life and supernatural powers beyond her wildest imaginings? And why did it seem to matter so much to him if she did reject all he offered her? “If you don’t wish to join with the Kindred, Esme, you are free to say so.” Damn! Vlad silently cursed. Did he really just say that? Were Valentine’s human ways starting to rub off on him more than even he suspected? “You are … so kind—and gentle.” Esme rushed to him and knelt beside him. Vlad pulled her into his arms and held her close. After several tender caresses she pulled back and looked at him squarely in the face. “Vampires are far from the inhuman monsters people make them out to be.” “Of course, my dear. It’s all propaganda. Over the centuries, those whom we refused to share the gift of eternal life with became violently jealous and started up a smear campaign against us.” She laughed. “You make it all sound like a political race or something!” He grinned. “You forget that I was once human. I know how frail a creature man is and how envy rules his every waking thought. It isn’t enough that he steals from his neighbor, starve innocents in the name of progress and start wars to pick up real estate parcels—he wants what the Kindred possess as well. And he’ll do anything to get it.” “I understand that now. You’ve really opened my eyes about a few things.” She lowered her lips to his and kissed him long and passionately. “But you will give me a little time to think things through, won’t you?” “Yes. Take all the time you need, my darling Esmeralda. I’ve waited an eternity to find an enlightened soul such as yours. I will gladly wait an eternity more for your
decision.” After a brief feeding, Vlad helped Esme to her sofa and said his goodbye until tomorrow. The slanting rays of the late afternoon daylight and the fresh life force coursing through his veins enabled him to quickly amble along the narrow thoroughfares until he arrived outside of the Falstaff Warehouse. The white stretch limo parked out front suggested that all wasn’t quite as it should be. Quickly Vlad transformed into a blackbird. Perching in the top of a tall tree across the street he closely watched the front door for several minutes until Melynda Kerpanik exited on the arm of a tall, blonde male dressed in an expensive business suit. The man helped her slide into the back of the limo and they drove off together. Even from a distance, his attractive—yet cruel—features and arrogant expression struck a familiar chord. No. He promised he wouldn’t follow. The ingrate! To Vlad the man’s presence meant only one thing. The enemy had found them. **** “Where in the world have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Val stomped out of the dark, moonless shadows, grabbing Mel by the elbow as she approached the warehouse’s front door at half past eleven. “And what were you doing all this time riding in a limo?” “Jealous?” Mel giggled. “It was nothing. Nothing at all. Shelby wanted me to schmooze with some bigwig client so he’d buy into the building. I think he will, too. Shel is going to be sooo pleased with me.” Val’s nostrils flared. What was that stinking cologne she had on? It smelled like a man’s aftershave—an expensive, yet tawdry, man’s aftershave. Mel reached into her purse and dropped her key then fumbled with the front door lock. “Oops! I think I’ve had too much to drink.” “It appears so.” He picked up the key along with a matchbook that had fallen beside it. He gave a long whistle. “Whoa. That must have been some major player you had dinner with. You actually ate at the Adam’s Mark Hotel?” “Well, yeah. He’s staying there for now.” “Did you give him dessert upstairs afterward?” She frowned. “Just what are you implying? Oh, that I… No, no. He was a gentleman. A very handsome, very rich and well-connected gentleman. There was no hanky-panky whatsoever. I think.” “You think?” The fires within him roared. Val grimaced and clenched his fists at his sides. Another had staked claim to one of his own. That man must die and die horribly. Instinctively his canines grew, forcing him to turn back into the shadows. “Val, your face!” She gasped. “I’m not all that intoxicated. What’s wrong? You look like you’re experiencing a sudden toothache. Are you all right?” “I’m fine. It’s my wisdom teeth. They give me trouble.” Mel approached him and cradled him tenderly into her arms, patting his back. “Poor baby. I bet they hurt awful. I noticed the gum swelling the other night after we … made love. You really ought to see a dentist.”
“How many dentists do you know offer late night hours?” “Not many. You poor, poor dear.” She began to kiss his chin and face over and over again, stroking his shoulders and pecs, pressing her warm, womanly curves tight against his muscular frame. Val sighed and relaxed, pulling her deeper into the shadows with him. Leaning against the brick building brought back memories of other secret lovers’ rendezvous long ago on deserted streets and in back alleys. His cock grew hard, throbbing at the thrill of getting caught in the act. “Hmm, Melynda, have you ever…?” “Ever?” She paused her assault on his senses and smiled. “Have I ever done it under the moonlight in some back alleyway, you mean?” “Exactly.” He lowered one dress strap and then another, lowering his lips to each nipple, licking it to full attention. “No one will see us here and the nearest occupied house is a block over.” She chuckled. “I promise not to shout too loudly if you won’t.” “No promise.” Val squeezed her buttocks, rubbing the bulge in his pants against her pussy covered only by the thinnest of cloth. She threw back her head, and a low moan escaped her lithe, lovely throat. He fought off the urge to sink his fangs into the smooth, white flesh and partake of the life-giving liquid contained within. Mel would give of herself in a human manner, the manner he had always desired to enjoy without corrupting it with his people’s ancient curse. He had vowed to act human, or at least as close an approximation to humanity as he could attain. He pushed up her skirt and pulled her thong down, greedily fondling her clit. She was hot and wet and ready for the taking. As if reading his mind, she undid his jeans zipper and yanked his pants all the way down to his ankles. “Hmm, I didn’t have any dessert tonight, by the way.” Mel knelt and nibbled his stiffening cock through the silky material of his boxers before removing the barrier and tantalizing the red, engorged head with her tongue. “Delicious.” He groaned. The cool brick on his backside and the hot breath of his lover on his cock drove him to distraction. If he wasn’t careful, the neighbors would hear them. “I know someone else who’s finger-lickin’ good.” Val pulled Mel to her feet, simultaneously plunging a tongue into her mouth and a digit deep into her eager pussy. She squealed in delight. He backed her up against the first step of the stoop and laid her down, continuing his assault on her cunt. As their kiss deepened she wrapped her legs about him and speared herself on his erection, drawing it deep within her. He lifted her up as easily as she were a phantom without substance and took her deeper into the shadows, pinning her against the cool brick wall with his hot cock, madly ramming it harder and harder into her tight passage. His mind went blank and his canines extended. He lightly raked them against the tender flesh of shoulders, drinking in the perfume of her blood. He teetered close to the edge of insanity. Mel sighed. “Oh, Val, you know exactly how I like it… Fast and hard. And that is the most wonderful sensation on my neck. Bite me, will you?” His head instantly cleared. “What did you say?” “I said give me a hickey. It won’t show if I wear a turtleneck for the next week or so.
You’re driving me crazy with your nibbling. I’m about to … I will if you…” “Melynda, I can’t bite you. If I did, I’d…” He couldn’t say the words I wouldn’t stop until I had drained you of all your blood. “Hmm, that’s okay. Just gum me a little harder.” Drink, drink! She’s offering herself to you, a willing victim. Val willed his fangs to retract. His erection lost its steam. “What’s wrong?” Mel asked, wide-eyed. “It’s nothing.” He turned his face away from hers. “My teeth hurt.” “Poor, poor baby.” She cradled his face in her hands and tenderly kissed him, carefully avoiding his mouth area. “Maybe we ought to change positions. Maybe that will help your teeth problem?” “Possibly. All right.” She lowered her feet to the ground and turned around. Bending over, she coaxed him into entering her from behind. “Yes, yes, that’s it. Fuck me hard.” Val held firmly onto Mel’s hips and drove himself into her cunt with a fierce intensity. Her cries of encouragement soon revived his desire. With her face turned away from his, he was free to bare his canines from their torturous prison. Gnashing his teeth, he threw back his head and caught sight of the moon passing through the clouds, bathing his beloved before him in an exotic, erotic blue light. “Yes, oh yes! Harder Val. That’s the spot. There—now!” He adjusted his angle and thrust deep, holding tightly onto Mel to keep her from falling as the first orgasmic shudders threatened to overwhelm her. Again and again she gasped his name as climax upon climax snowballed into an avalanche of ecstasy, bringing him with her to the peak and plunging him over the other side. Panting, they stood still in the shadows for several moments. The song of trucks on the highway rumbling at a distance and the rustle of a slight breeze in the trees nearby serenaded them. But another high-pitch sound just out of the range of human hearing caused Val to prick up his sensitive ears. Could it be the squeak of a bat? Uncle Vlad! Damn him! Must he act the voyeur? Couldn’t he leave them alone? “Mel, I think we better go inside now.” “Uh-huh.” She slowly straightened and smoothed out her dress. “You better led the way because I’m feeling awfully dizzy.” “Wonder why.” Chuckling, Val escorted her into the building, shooting an angry glare up at the flying mammal hovering in the trees. Vlad materialized the second Val entered his apartment after tucking Mel into bed. “I hope you enjoyed your peeping tom session, Uncle. It’ll be your last.” Val stormed into the kitchen. Flinging open the refrigerator he grabbed the closest cut of fresh meat and hungrily tore into it with his fangs. “That looks tasty.” Vlad approached and sat at the small dining table. “Not quite as tasty as the delicious Melynda Kerpanik, but it will have to serve, won’t it?” Val sat on the counter and continued eating. Vlad leaned back in his chair and smiled thoughtfully. “I am impressed, nephew, with your tremendous self-control. I admit freely that I find such a feat extremely difficult. Your years of living among mortals have strengthened your resolve. You can fight instinct with intellect. I’m quite proud of you.” “Thanks,” Val mumbled, chewing and sucking the marrow from the shank bone before casting it aside. “It isn’t easy, but I’ve proven that we can act human and not resort
to devouring our love partners whole.” “If they request it. I always seem to find quite amiable lovers who are eager to join our ranks.” “I take that to mean you’ve found someone in St. Louis so inclined?” Vlad nodded, smiling. “I have. She’s quite a remarkable and beautiful lady. She isn’t put off by the thought of immortality at all. I’ll introduce you to her someday, probably sometime after the funeral.” “Why of course.” Val rolled his eyes, taking another chomp of fresh meat. Vlad sighed. “Val, I realize how much you disapprove of me, and others like me in the Kindred, but before you completely forget how to use your powers there’s something I must tell you. Something very important. We have a visitor in town.” Val lifted an ebony eyebrow. “A visitor? Another of the Kindred?” “No. One of our enemies.” “You can’t mean…” Val slowly put the roast down. “There’s a Van Helsing here?” “Yes, there is. He’s just recently arrived. And he knows someone very close to you, someone very dear to you. Someone very easily persuaded to believe what she wants to believe.” “Melynda?” Val jumped off the counter and headed to the door. “I must protect her. If he knows she and I have bonded, he will stop at nothing from using her to get at me.” Vlad flew across the room and blocked the door with his body, preventing Val from leaving. “Precisely. But listen to me first. This Van Helsing hasn’t counted on there being two of us. I’ve kept a low profile while I’ve been here, and I’ve been keeping tabs on your Melynda. I spied the two of them in the building when I was returning to my home. She hasn’t told him about me, possibly because she thinks I’ve left town already.” “Then we mustn’t tell her that you’re still here.” “Right. We have a slight advantage over him. There are two of us and there’s only one of him. And his abilities to mesmerize our beautiful Ms. Kerpanik aren’t infallible. She has quite a strong and determined streak about her. However, her flexible and pliant nature does make it easy for her to receive and accept hypnotic suggestions. You must make her believe that this Van Helsing is not to be trusted.” “That should be simple enough. I’ll tell her he’s a villain and that she should avoid him at all costs.” Vlad patted Val on the back and laughed. “That is rich. For being as old as you are, how little you understand the minds of women!” Val frowned. “And you believe you’re any better, Uncle?” “Possibly. But your Melynda will never in a million centuries believe you if you state your concerns the way you propose. She will simply believe you are acting out of jealousy.” “Jealousy?” The image of the limo driving away from the curb earlier that evening burned in Val’s mind. “Melynda went to dinner with Van Helsing tonight.” Vlad nodded. “Yes, I know. I accompanied them to the Adam’s Mark.” “You did?” “Yes, I transformed myself into a fly and parked myself nearby on the wall.” “A fly on the wall?” Val sniggered until his sides ached. He collapsed onto the sofa. “Uncle, you will never cease to amaze me. However did you escape from being swatted?”
Vlad crossed his arms and frowned then chuckled. “I didn’t buzz over their entrees if that’s what you want to know.” “Good. The Adam’s Mark is too upscale a place to deal with the likes of you.” Their laughter subsided and Val sat staring into space, considering what his options were. “If this Van Helsing turns out to be like his ancestors then…” “We must eliminate him. Agreed?” “Agreed.” Val grimaced. This wasn’t how he wanted to survive. He had wanted to live as a human, to be accepted as a human. If he became a killer, what then? As if sensing his inner turmoil, Vlad sat down beside him and gave him an encouraging pat on the back. “Don’t worry, Valentine. I have a plan, but it will be dangerous.” “Hmph! Aren’t they always?” Vlad ignored the snide remark. “Leo Van Helsing is a rich and powerful man—and quite famous. He’s been in numerous television commercials from what I understand. The public knows what he looks like, and his disappearance will capture their imaginations. Whatever we do we must make his elimination seem plausible and draw suspicion away from the Kindred.” “So, your plan doesn’t include us inviting Mr. Van Helsing over to be our dinner?” “No. In fact, it will be better if the two of us never meet this marauder in the flesh until we are ready to eliminate him. In the meantime, we will use Melynda as our gobetween.” “Melynda?” Val’s sense of foreboding grew. The stink of that man’s cologne on her clothes meant she had been close to him, very close to him, rubbing up next to him, possibly even bedding with him. He rose and flew to the door. “I won’t allow it. I will not risk her life for the sake of our family secret.” Vlad zoomed over to his side. “Her life may already be at risk if Van Helsing believes she carries your mark. And he won’t stop at just putting us out of his misery. He’ll easily dispose of Melynda, too. Remember how his great-grandfather poisoned your dear Serena against you until she screamed for the release of the stake and beheading?” Val shut his eyes as the painful memory flooded his mind. “I remember.” “Then you know it has to be done. We didn’t involve Melynda in this plot—Van Helsing did. And if it goes according to plan, then all of us will be safe. Are you with me?” Val sighed and nodded. “I am.” “Remember, Melynda mustn’t know I’m still here in St. Louis, Valentine,” Vlad warned. “And she mustn’t know that you know Van Helsing is in town. Our very lives— existence—depend on it.” **** No, no! The dream both confused and excited her. Whatever did it mean? Mel tossed and turned, twining the sheets around her in a mummy’s sheath. The dream began the moment her head hit the pillow. It wasn’t Val who visited her in this erotically charged vision but Leo Van Helsing. It was Van Helsing that held her too tight in his powerful arms, roughly caressing her curves, roughly fondling her pussy, greedily nipping at her breasts…
She was in a bedroom. Van Helsing’s room she surmised. It was large and luxuriously appointed and the sounds of river traffic played out nearby. The blond Adonis slowly removed her clothes and made her stand naked in front of his searing hot, yet deathly cold, gray-blue eyes. He was watching her, telling her to do things to herself that she would never consider doing… He handed her a dildo the size of King Kong’s cock and told her to swallow it all. She felt herself choking, choking, unable to scream and unable to get away, but she must, she must… She had to tell Val something. But what? And then Van Helsing was holding her down on the bed, tying her to the bedposts with black velvet cords. She lay vulnerable, spread-eagled before him while he slowly removed his expensive silk tie and shirt and Armani suit. His angry-red cock laced with throbbing purple veins was larger than even his monstrous dildo. He waved it over her supine form like a magic wand, threatening to rip her in half with it if she disobeyed even one of his commands. He entered her and savagely thrust into her, his screams of delight matching the intensity of her screams of terror. Val? Val where are you? I need you—I need you! “I’m here,” he whispered, enfolding her gently into his arms. “I won’t let anyone ever hurt you.” “Oh, Val, you are here.” Mel fell against Val’s chest and began to cry. “I had the worse nightmare. Much worse than that one I had the other night that I can’t even remember.” “Sh. It’s over now. I’ll protect you.” She blinked and wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. “I thought I’d never say this as an independent type, but I’m sort of glad I have a knight in shining armor to come rescue me from the dark prince.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad you think of me as your rescuer and not your tormenter.” “Of course you’re my rescuer. There’s someone, someone else who is my tormentor. He tried to … to punish me if I said anything to you. And it was important—what I had to tell you. But I can’t remember, I can’t…” Val tensed. “Lie still and relax now, Melynda. I’ll watch over you tonight. Breathe deep and dream of our lovemaking, our wonderfully wicked outdoor lovemaking.” “Hmm, yes, that was wicked, wasn’t it?” Her eyelids began to droop and she sighed. “You’re a very, very naughty boy, Val Drakul. You’re not a polished gentleman like Mr. Moneybags Van Helsing. No, you’re my bad boy who knows how to do it really good.” She drifted asleep, content in his arms. The dream began again.
Chapter Eight Leo Van Helsing chuckled to himself as he hung his suit and tie neatly on the padded hanger and stowed it in his hotel room closet. How delightfully easy it had been to probe Melynda Kerpanik’s mind. How delightfully wicked it was to fill her unconscious with erotic images of their soon-to-occur lovemaking. He retrieved the velvet-lined rope from the chest-of-drawers and rolled its length over and over again in his hands. The silky soft covering contrasted nicely with the tensile strength of the cord underneath. Powerful yet smooth—so like himself. He sat down on the bed and closed his eyes. Projecting his thoughts into Mel’s sleeping psyche, he’d imagined tying her down to the bed with the soft ropes and ramming himself repeatedly into her. Her cries for mercy were music to his ears. Her mental anguish only spurred him on. He rapidly stroked his cock until both the dream Van Helsing and the real Van Helsing came with a hard shudder and a low groan. “Oh, my dear, Mel … I can’t wait to erase all recollection of that bloodsucker from your memory. It will be my pleasure. My repeated pleasure.” Laughing, he rose from the bed and entered the shower to wash away the evidence of sated lust courtesy of his new assistant. Mel would help him locate and corner Drakul. He was certain of it. She had revealed no hidden agenda, no vampire antibodies flowing in her bloodstream. Her thoughts indicated they had shared some momentary carnal pleasures and little more. Making love to a vampire while its head was still attached to its body … not a wise thing to do if one didn’t wish to become part of the Kindred. Van Helsing always made sure the female ghouls he’d dispatched were properly incapacitated before he drained them of their essence for his serum and used their bodies for his own pleasure. It was his own peculiar calling card, the one small perversion he permitted himself for a job well done. While many of his ancestors had left a silver crucifix or a flower or another small object behind on their vampire victims as a token of their conquest, he left a little of himself. A fair enough exchange all things considering. The shrill of the phone brought him back to reality. He turned off the shower spray, grabbed a thick, white towel, blotted his face and then reached for the bathroom phone conveniently located next to the tub. “Van Helsing here.” “I’m so glad I caught you, Mr. Van Helsing. This is Shelby Schwartz. About the penthouse at the Falstaff Warehouse you toured today…” He sighed. The woman babbled on and on about real estate matters for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes. Melynda was obviously the more intelligent of the two cousins. Probing Shelby’s mind was like digging for gold in a swamp—lots of muck, little pay-off. He hit the speaker button and finished toweling by the time she finally stopped for air. “So, what do you think?” she asked cheerfully. If she only knew. He plastered a smile on his face instead and lightened his tone. “I found the place full of possibilities. And your cousin is … absolutely charming.
We should get on well together. Very well indeed.” **** “Mr. Van Helsing wants to buy the penthouse. You sold him on it, Mel. Congratulations!” The second Mel crossed the threshold of her cousin’s renovated brownstone Shelby threw her arms around her, giving Mel a most uncharacteristic squeeze of delight. Mel had never witnessed her straight-laced cousin act so openly affectionate with anyone— including her husband Graham. Dollar signs must work like pheromones on some people. She followed Shelby into her living room and accepted a seat on the expensive Ethan Allen sofa along with a congratulatory cup of cappuccino. “Why, thanks, cuz,” Mel said, resting her cross-trainers on the side of the coffee table. Her late afternoon jog had taken a lot out of her. “I really think most of the credit should go to you. You’re the one who bought the warehouse when everyone else thought it should be demolished and turned into parking lot.” “But it was your tour of the premises and your charming personality over dinner that clinched the deal.” Mel about choked on her java. “Charming? Personality? Me?” “Why, yes, those were Leo Van Helsing’s exact words on the phone, ‘Your cousin Melynda is absolutely charming.’ I about peed in my pants. I didn’t know you had it in you. You sly dog, you.” Shelby chuckled, nudging Mel with an elbow before picking up her coffee. “So, tell me … what’s the inside of a private suite at the Adam’s Mark look like?” Mel’s eyes widened in horror. Her unexplainable nightmare returned with a vengeance. She put her cup down. “Excuse me?” “At least give me a description of the ceiling. And is Leo a briefs, boxers or nothing sort of guy under that Armani suit? The info might come in handy when it comes to negotiating the payment terms.” “Shelby Michelle Swartz! What the hell are you implying?” Shelby blinked. “Implying? I thought I was speaking very candidly. I mean, didn’t you two get it on? My friend who’s a manager at the Adam’s Mark told me he saw the two of you going upstairs in the elevator last night. I assumed…” “You assumed wrong. I did not sleep with Mr. Van Helsing. He’s a client of yours— and a potential client of mine. We talked about what kind of artwork he wanted to hang on the walls and the colors he liked in his kitchen and bath. And that’s all that happened.” “Okay.” Shelby pouted, acting put out by her cousin’s denial. “That’s fine, too. The important thing is, is that you got the man to sign on the dotted line. We’re adults here. I don’t need to know anything more.” “You’re damn right about that,” Mel muttered. She crossed her arms and slumped back against the sofa. “I don’t know what I’ll say to poor Aunt Sally, next time I see her. ‘Your daughter’s mind has fallen completely in the gutter since she became a real estate tycoon.’ Sheesh!” “All right, I get the picture.” Shelby settled back in her chair and sipped her coffee slowly before speaking again. “I won’t say anything more. I know you don’t want to hurt poor Val Drackle’s feelings and all, but you got to know that a man like Leo Van Helsing
has got it where it what counts—in the bank, that is.” Mel sighed. “Val’s family name is pronounced ‘Drah-kool’. The emphasis is on the second syllable. You really should learn to pronounce your tenants’ names properly, Shel. It’s rude when you don’t.” “I know it is. But since Val won’t be a tenant for much longer who really cares?” “What?” Mel sprang to her feet. Shelby motioned for her to sit back down. “Didn’t I tell you? That was one of the terms of the contract. Mr. Van Helsing wants to buy out the basement space, too. It seems he has a lot of things in storage and he’d like to keep them nearby. He made me such a wonderful offer that I couldn’t refuse.” Mel shook her head and threw up her arms. “Don’t worry, cuz. I will give your Val ample time to find new accommodations. Maybe the two of you could move in together?” “Maybe.” Mel began pacing the small living area. And maybe something else is going on here than meets the eye, Shelby has been acting strange lately, more so than usual. I’ve been feeling strange, too. All since this Leo Van Helsing came to town… Mel halted her steps in front of her cousin. “So, Shel, tell me what happened that kept you from giving our big client the tour of the building yourself? How’s Graham?” Frowning, Shelby began fidgeting in her seat. “Graham?” “Graham. You know—your husband?” The fidgeting increased. It was obvious the facts weren’t quite adding up in Shelby’s blonde head. “Remember?” Mel leaned forward and looked her straight in the eye. “You told me on the phone that Graham called you and said something about needing you to come home early. Is he okay?” “Okay?” The frown remained fixed on Shelby’s pale face. “He’s fine. He left three days ago for a financial consultants’ convention in Philadelphia.” “Then why did you tell me he was…? Oh, never mind.” The whole world has gone insane. The confused look in her ordinarily got-it-together cousin’s eyes gave Mel the chills. Something wasn’t right. But whatever that something was neither one of them could fathom it. It seemed totally beyond their comprehension. She began pacing the room again. Shelby wrinkled her nose and shook her head as if trying to wake up from a bad dream. “Anyway, we’ve both been asked to a celebratory dinner later tonight by Leo. It’s okay if I call him ‘Leo’ now since you two have become close?” She winked conspiratorially. “I’ll bring Graham along so I won’t act like the proverbial third wheel.” Mel froze in mid-step. “Didn’t you say your husband was in Philadelphia?” Shelby blinked again and slowly put down her cup. “He is. Did I just say I was bringing Graham along to the contract signing dinner tonight? I must be drinking too much coffee. Why don’t I stay put and let you take the contracts to dinner tonight. I’m sure Leo won’t mind signing them with just you there.” Something definitely was amiss here. Mel rushed toward the exit. “I’m neither a real estate broker nor a lawyer. I really think you need to be there, Shel. In fact, you go out to dinner with Van Helsing instead of me. I’ve got to talk to Val.” “But…” Shelby sighed, following her to the door. “All right. I guess that’s the way it should be. Mr. Van Helsing is going to be mighty disappointed. He told me how much he
wanted to discuss the interior design of the place, and you’re the interior decorator.” “I’m working for you, Shel, not him. I promised you I’d decorate the model lofts and be there for any clients that wanted further assistance. But that doesn’t mean I have to work with all your clients.” Mel reached for the doorknob, but Shelby stood between her and it. Was her cousin trying to prevent her from leaving? “You don’t really mean what you’re saying, Mel. You want this job—you need this job. This gig will do wonders to launch your new career in interior design.” “I don’t care.” Mel grimaced. She did care, but something smelled rotten in the Soulard District of St. Louis … and it sure wasn’t fish going bad at the Farmer’s Market. “You do care, Melynda Renee Kerpanik. Don’t tell me you don’t.” “I don’t. I’m ripping up my contract with Leo Van Helsing as of this very moment. Something about him just doesn’t feel right.” “What?” Shelby’s eyes widened. Her lower lip trembled. “You can’t do that. You’ve landed possibly the biggest opportunity of your life. You’ll never work as an interior decorator again if word of this gets out on the street.” “Then I’ll make sure the news doesn’t leak out. The news will never leak out…” She leaned menacingly closer to her cousin. “Will it?” “I don’t know.” Shelby bit her lip. “St. Louis is a big ‘small town’ and you’d be surprised how fast news travels. Think this over very carefully. You don’t have to like the man, but you’ve got to think of the connections and the prestige you gain by being able to say that you personally designed Leo Van Helsing’s new penthouse.” Mel took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “But I despise the man. There’s something about his eyes and the way he moves. I don’t feel safe around him.” “Ah … I get where you’re coming from now.” Shelby nodded, her expression quite solemn. “He’s a first class slimeball—can’t keep his hands off you. I kind of wondered about him since he’s always portrayed as being quite the ‘lady’s man’ in those TV commercials.” “I thought you’d understand. Thanks, Shel.” “Then you shouldn’t deal with him in private or without another person working alongside you.” Mel gritted her teeth. “I take it back now about you being understanding.” “Please don’t go back on your word to do up his place.” Shelby placed a hand on Mel’s shoulder. “It’s not just about the money.” “It isn’t?” “No, really it isn’t. I have faith in your talent. I want you to succeed doing something you’re really good at. I don’t want you to have to go back to teaching kindergarteners how to finger-paint. I want you to show that lowlife, cheating ex-husband of yours you can make it on your own.” Mel leaned her forehead against the door and sighed. “So do I. But I just don’t think I can work with a man who can kick Val out of his home without a second thought. Val’s been a good tenant for you, hasn’t he?” “The best. He’s lived in the basement for about five years now, ever since I bought the warehouse and started raising the funds to begin the renovations. He’s watched over the building and made sure the windows didn’t get broken out or squatters moved in. Val has been a real lifesaver.”
Mel grinned. “I knew you wouldn’t let him down.” “I won’t. I owe him big time. I promise I’ll find a similar place for him to move into—maybe even get him set up in someplace bigger like a townhouse.” “That would be nice, cuz.” Mel quickly kissed Shelby’s cheek. “But I’ve got to go talk with him and let him know the score. Bye.” Mel barreled out the door and jogged the seven blocks over to the warehouse in a daze. She couldn’t wait until the late afternoon sun descended into nightfall—she had to tell Val right away about Van Helsing’s plans. She had to wake him up and let him know that his home was being sold out from under him. But knowing Val the night owl stayed up until dawn, did she dare disturb his daylight rest? **** Yes, enter the demon’s lair in the daylight. Let the sun invade his sleep of death. See him for who he really is… Van Helsing re-emphasized the idea in Mel’s waking mind. So inquisitive and trusting, she truly was an asset to his cause. To encourage her to delve deeper into her lover’s personal life had taken only the briefest of mental suggestions. Her innate curiosity needed little prodding on his part. He pressed his fingertips together, gazing thoughtfully out of his office window in the direction of the warehouse. Blocks away, he could feel what she felt, see what she saw, and experience what she experienced as if standing next to her. They made an excellent pair. His brains—her beauty. His strength and her stamina. A perfect balance of wits and wiles. Together they’d become invincible. But would Mel readily agree to work alongside him in his crusade to purge the parasites of vampirism from the world? Perhaps he wouldn’t have to force her to cooperate as he had so many others. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to crush the life out of her in order to assure her silence. He’d hate killing his striking and sensual companion in crime. Then again, killing held a peculiar fascination for him all its own. The struggling, the pleas for mercy, the horror of recognition in his victim’s eyes that death was imminent… His heart beat faster and a bead of sweet dripped from his brow. The familiar tingle low in his loins begged for release. Later—later we will unite and consummate our partnership, my dear, dear, Melynda. Van Helsing took a deep, cleansing breath. Now was not the time to contemplate delicious pleasures of the flesh. He refocused his concentration on Mel’s excursion to Drakul’s inner chamber. **** “Val? Are you sleeping? Can I come in?” Mel ceased knocking and tried the doorknob. Locked. Good, Val had learned his lesson in taking safety precautions. She was about to turn around when an irresistible thought entered her mind. Try it again. Mel jiggled the knob once more. Still locked. As if possessed by the devil, she
abruptly threw her weight against the door and fell forward as it opened. Seriously weird! Where did all that strength come from? When did she gain the build of a linebacker? She tiptoed inside the apartment, switched on a low table lamp and scanned the living area. Everything seemed in place. Scratching her head at her sudden penchant for breaking and entering, she continued forward. Val Drakul was a trusting guy not to bolt himself in better while he slept. It was almost as if he—or someone else—had wanted her to breach his fortress this day, to discover the secrets his home hid in the sunlit hours. “It’s me, Mel,” she called out softly. “I’ve got something important to tell you.” Nothing stirred. With the basement half-windows covered in dark plastic, not a millimeter of light could penetrate the dark sanctuary. Mel felt like she was trespassing in someone’s private cave. Or even more likely a private tomb, the crypt of a dead man… Something drew her closer to Val’s bedroom door. She knew it would be locked, but somehow she also knew she’d be able to open it. She stretched out her hand and grasped the cold, brass doorknob. Her intuition did not fail her. She froze. Thoughts and images flashed through her mind, but they were not her own. It was as if the visuals had been planted in her brain by someone else—but who? The sights and sounds intimated that all was not as it appeared when it came to her beloved Valentine Drakul. She felt the icy grip of fear squeezing the breath from her lungs. She smelled the sickly sweet smell of blood and the musty scent of cold, damp earth followed by the putrid stench of death. She envisioned images of a man with hands crossed against his chest lying in an opened gunmetal gray rectangular box. A tall, handsome, dark-haired man… It was Val! “Shit! I’m completely freaking out here.” Mel shook her head and refused to turn the knob further. “It’s like I’m watching a B-horror movie in my mind. Where did all these horrible notions about blood and death come from? Why do I think my lover is a vampire all of a sudden?” A vampire? It all added up—the inability to come out in daylight, the dental problems, the speed at which Val seemed to come to her side whenever she needed him, the odd dreams about mists and bats… The bedroom door stood before her, beckoning her to enter and divulge its secrets. “I don’t think I can do this,” she whispered. Some invisible force seemed to compel her to open the door. She took a step closer. “What if I do find Val lying in a coffin? What if he really is a vampire? Will he kill me to silence me forever? Or will he do something even worse?” Mel swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “This is silly. I trust Val. He’s never lied to me. He’s never even once given me so much as a hickey. There’s probably nothing scary behind this door. I don’t know why I let my imagination get the better of me at times. I’m such a royal ditz.” She turned the knob. It was locked. “Whew. Thank goodness. I almost thought for a moment I was going to…” Before she could finish her sentence, Mel hurled her body at the door faster than a Cardinals’ pitcher could torpedo a baseball over home plate. The heavy door groaned open in protest, depositing her in a heap. “Ow. That hurts.” She rubbed her elbows then crawled over to the doorway. “What in heaven’s name has gotten into me? I’ve never suffered falling down fits before. I’m
beginning to wonder if I’m possessed. Where’s the light switch in here?” Mel slowly stood and patted the wall around the door until she found the toggle. She flipped the dim overheard lamp on and slowly turned around. The gleaming, oblong metal object located right in front of her elicited a sharp gasp of surprise. “Oh, my God…”
Chapter Nine How in the hell did Val squeeze a Harley-Davidson Monster with sidecar into the freight elevator? Mel giggled—then burst into outright laughter. She laughed so hard tears flowed down her cheeks, and she had to bend over in order to hold her sides together. What a lunatic she was! Here she had thought once she had broken open the door she’d find Val Drakul lying dead in a coffin. Ridiculous! Obviously this room had been locked all this time because her bad boy’s prized possession was stored inside. From the look of a few odd chrome pieces strewn about the place, he must not have finished all his repairs on the souped-up cycle. A high table pushed against a side wall sparkled with shiny camera lenses and other high-tech bits. What she had thought was a bedroom had in reality been Val’s workshop. Where in the world did he sleep? A door stood directly behind the Harley. Could Val’s bedroom lie beyond? “I’ve … got to get out of here,” she managed between snorts. “Breaking in to Val’s place was utter nonsense. I don’t mind waiting a couple of hours until the sun sets to tell him about Van Helsing’s plans. I don’t know whatever got into me to come barging in like this.” Mel turned and marched directly out the workshop door. “Melynda?” Val croaked in a weak, dry voice. “Is that you?” “Val?” She spun back around. “Yes, it’s me. You okay?” A gray figure stood in the far doorway, his dark shadow cast by a dim light behind him. She was right. Val’s bedroom did lie behind his Harley’s home. He slowly straightened up and took an unsteady step forward. “What time is it?” “It’s about sixish,” she said, coming closer. Getting around the hog parked in the middle of the small room was nearly impossible. “That explains why I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. I don’t usually get up at this time of the year until closer to eight.” Val stretched his arms languidly above his head, showcasing his well-defined pec muscles. He was wearing traditional white cotton briefs today Mel noted, wonderfully tight, butt-hugging, bikini-cut briefs. “I apologize for waking you early. I had something to tell you about…” The words died on her lips as she caught sight of something in the room beyond. It was a long, wooden, rectangular box. She instinctively backed away. “I’ll go now and let you get some more shut eye,” she covered. “It looks like you need it.” “No, stay. I’m fine. I just can’t walk around too much yet until I get my bearings.” “All right.” Mel tried not to act nosy, but her curiosity got the better of her. “Is your bedroom through there?” “My bedroom?” He rubbed his face and then finger-combed his longish hair into some semblance of order. “You could say so. Want to come in?” “Yes, please,” she heard herself say before she knew it. “I mean, we’ve only made love in my apartment and in the alley, so I’m just curious how you … you…”
“Sleep in the daytime?” He smiled. “This back room has absolutely no outside windows, so that’s why I chose it as my sleeping quarters. Also, it’s close by where I can keep an eye on my bike. Someone stole the exhaust pipe off it once when I parked in on the street. I’ve been cautious about leaving it outside ever since.” Mel approached him with a tentative grin. “I was wondering how you got such a big motorcycle down the steps.” Val escorted her into his inner sanctum. To her relief, she observed that the rectangular box was simply a very large, very old, carved-wooden trunk parked at the foot of a queen-sized bed. His mussed, midnight blue satin sheets and matching comforter and pillows shone eerily in the weak amber light of an antique Tiffany-styled bedside lamp. “It’s difficult, but not impossible, to get my Monster in and out of the freight elevator. I have to remove the side car to do it.” He noticed her staring at the bed. “Is something the matter?” Mel shrugged. “It’s nothing. I don’t know why, but I had this awful vision … this awful image in my head that you slept in a coffin or something. Imagine that.” Val frowned then pulled her close. “Whatever gave you that idea?” Relaxing her head against his chest, she sighed. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. All I care is that I disturbed your sleep. I feel guilty.” “Guilty? Guilty for denying me my full rest period or guilty because you want to jump my bones?” She laughed. “Both.” He lowered his lips to hers and crushed all protests. Mel yielded her mouth to his probing tongue and its expert sensual torture. She felt herself growing wetter. She couldn’t resist plunging her hands down the back of his briefs and squeezing his firm butt cheeks tight, rubbing her throbbing pussy, hidden beneath her nylon jogging shorts, against his attentive cock. “Hmm,” he moaned. “I could get use to waking up like this, if only…” She stroked his chest with her nipples, pebbling hard through the thin material of her T-shirt. “Hmm, if only what?” His answer came through his broad hands cupping her breasts and then her buttocks. His narrow hips began to sway back and forth against her clit, pounding a primitive rhythm of passion and desire. Mel threw back her head and squealed for mercy as he released her long, black hair from its ponytail tie and rained endless kisses along her neck and shoulders. “Oh, how I wish you’d quit teasing and give me a good hickey!” His sensual assault abruptly halted. He stared at her. “You want me to bite you?” She nodded. “Yes, please.” “You don’t know what you’re asking, Melynda. I wouldn’t be able to stop with just one bite. I’d want to go on and on and on…” “Sounds wonderfully wicked,” she purred. “It’s okay. I have make-up that can cover the bruises. And you don’t have to feel like you’re hurting me. Remember, I like to be fucked hard and a little bite now and then on my neck isn’t going to faze me.” “We ‘make love’ Melynda,” he corrected her, “and it’s possible my bite may ‘faze’ you. It’s not like any hickey you’ve ever received. It can come with a price that’s heavy to pay.”
Sighing, she threw her hands around his neck and stood on tiptoe to kiss his forehead. “You’re so dramatic, Val. You ride a Harley for heaven’s sake. Just fuck me like there’s no tomorrow and give me a mark that will remind me of you forever.” A devilish fire flickered in his dark eyes. It was as if the shy and reclusive Val Drakul ceased to exist at that moment. His honeyed baritone sounded husky, yet in control. “Your wish is my command.” Mel laughed. Val swept her into his arms and deposited her squarely in the middle of his satin lair in nanoseconds flat. He tugged off her shoes, shorts and thong while she shimmied out of her T-shirt and sports bra. Grabbing hold of his briefs, she yanked them down and was rewarded with the reddest, hardest, juiciest cock she’d ever seen. “My, my. See what happens when you let go of your inhibitions, Val?” She spread her legs wide and leaned back on her elbows. “Ready for a good time? I am.” Without a word, he speared her with one savage thrust. Mel arched her hips and cried out in both surprise and pain. But the shock soon subsided and she held on to her lover’s muscular backside as he pumped and pounded her hard against the soft mattress. “Yes, yes, that’s it!” Mel gasped for breath and grasped at the satin sheets for purchase to prevent herself from slipping off the bed. Too late, her head tilted over the edge and her long locks cascaded behind her exposing her alabaster neck, his for the taking. Val grabbed her buttocks firmly and buried himself to the hilt, lowering his lips to the tender white flesh just above her collarbone. She cried out as he bit down hard, then relaxed as warmth and ecstasy overcame her in the first of a series of mind-numbing, orgasmic explosions. “Oh … oh … Oh!” Mel’s limbs thrashed wildly about the sheets before she could grab hold of Val’s neck, entwining her fingers into his long hair as his bite deepened. Heaven above! The man really could deliver a hickey! Her toes curled in ecstasy. She never wanted off this rollercoaster of ever-intensifying climaxes. “Yes! That’s it. Keep biting. Now fuck me harder—harder!” With a feral shout, Val lifted his head and rammed his cock tirelessly into her hot, wet cunt over and over. Mel savored the familiar tremors rushing toward the edge of bliss before tumbling over the brink as their lovemaking met an all-too-soon, yet mutually pleasurable, end. “Oh, Val, Val…” She sighed and collapsed against him, stroking his cheek as she buried her face against the soft down of his chest. A warm liquid trickled from his lips. She brought her hand close to her blurry eyes and discovered that it was blood. Poor dear. He’d bit his tongue in all their rough love play. Putting her hand to her neck, she felt the same damp, warmth there as well. “Val? Are you all right?” Sated and nourished, Val slowly opened his eyes. His beloved Melynda knelt beside him, gazing upon him, concern etched on every feature of her beautiful face. “I’m perfect. Just perfect.” He reached for her throat and she edged slightly away. He cringed in regret. “Forgive me. Does it hurt much?” She rubbed at the wound absentmindedly. “No, it doesn’t. And that’s the weirdest part of all. It should hurt like hell, but it doesn’t. You weren’t kidding when you said your lover’s bite would go on and on and on.”
“Did I scare you?” “At first, but then the orgasms began and kept going and going and going…” She sighed deeply and relaxed into his arms. “You’re the most wonderful lover I’ve ever met, Val Drakul.” “Thank you. That’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received in my entire existence.” “I find that hard to believe. And I really find it hard to believe that you were technically a virgin up until a few days ago. You keep getting better and better each time we make love. I must be some teacher.” “You’re fantastic.” He didn’t know whether he should admit to her that he’d lost his virginity several centuries back or not. Did it really matter? “So, how long have you been a vampire?” He sat up. “What did you just ask me?” Mel rose up on an elbow and began toying with his black chest hairs. “I said how long have you been a vampire? That’s what they call someone who bites people on the neck, isn’t it?” He turned his dark eyes away from her innocent face. “Don’t be silly, Melynda. Vampires are the stuff of legends, the monsters of myths.” “I know that, but you certainly know how to bite like one.” She turned his face back to hers and smiled at his dumbfounded look then began to laugh. “I really had you going there for a moment with that vampire crack.” “Yes, you did,” Val replied with a forced chuckle. “You’re such a tease.” She doesn’t realize how close she is to the truth. Dare I tell her? No, it’s probably better at this point if I don’t. “A tease? Hardly. I put out quite readily. ‘Slut’ is a more apt word to describe me.” He captured her chin in his hand and made her gaze deeply into his eyes. “Melynda, listen to my voice and do as I say. Repeat after me, ‘I am not a slut. I will never again use harsh words to describe myself. I am claimed by Valentine of the clan Drakul. I am his woman—forever and always.’” Mel did as she was told without questioning. While she was under his spell he might as well quiz her about Van Helsing’s movements. “Tell me about Van Helsing. How did he learn of my whereabouts in St. Louis?” “Your calendar… A business colleague gave him a copy of one of your calendars for a Christmas present several years ago, and he spied your name on it. He did extensive computer background checks and then hired some local private investigators to check you out, to make certain you really were of the clan Drakul. One even stole your motorcycle’s exhaust pipe to make it appear that you had been burgled.” Val cursed under his breath. While he had possessed some suspicions about being watched or tailed, he had never felt absolutely certain. After all, what kind of humans dwelled openly in the dark of the night? Not many law-abiding ones. “And when an opening in the home office in St. Louis came up, he eagerly snatched it up,” she continued. “Once he arrived in St. Louis, another business colleague mentioned the Falstaff Warehouse Loft project. He then remembered that one of his informants had said it was your home. He was overjoyed at how easy all the pieces of the puzzle came together.” “I can well imagine. Anything else?” “He gets sexually excited just thinking about how pleasurable it will be to track you
down and kill you in your lair.” “Kinky but not surprising. The Van Helsings are all a twisted lot.” “He then plans to rape me and claim me as his own and use me as a spy to help subdue more of the Kindred.” “The bastard plans to what?” Val bellowed. He jumped up from the bed and hurriedly began to dress. “This Van Helsing is even sicker than his predecessors. There is no time to waste. He must be stopped.” Mel blinked slowly, her voice an eerie monotone. “That’s exactly what he says about you. ‘The vampire Drakul must be stopped. My generation will be the one to rid the earth of this monstrous curse.’ Those are his exact words.” “His pig-headed arrogance will be his undoing.” Val reached for his boots then paused and looked at Melynda—his mate—with compassion. “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this centuries old family feud.” “It’s all right. I love you, Val. I won’t let anyone harm you.” He scooped her up into his arms and held her tightly. “And I won’t let anyone hurt you, either. Ever.” He slowly released her. “I suppose it’s easier for you to get dressed properly out of a trance.” He stood and backed toward the door. “When I count to three and snap my fingers, Melynda, wake up feeling refreshed and remember nothing about our previous conversation. One, two, three.” He snapped his fingers. She shook her head hard and blinked several dozen times. “Wow… That was some lovemaking session. I just conked out totally. It feels like I’ve been asleep a thousand years.” “Sleeping Beauty doesn’t hold a candle to you.” Val leaned over and kissed her cheek then handed her clothes to her. “Hurry and get dressed. We have things to do.” “Are we going to go tell Van Helsing where he can stick it about buying out the basement as well as the top floor?” “What? He’s buying the basement?” Mel pulled her T-shirt over her head and bent to lace up her running shoes. “Yeah. I told you all about Mr. Moneybags didn’t I? Funny, I have a feeling I did.” She rubbed her temple absentmindedly. “Anyway, he wants the entire top floor as his penthouse and he also wants to buy the basement apartment and use it for storage.” To store my headless remains no doubt. Val went to his closet and pulled out two leather jackets. “Here.” He presented her with the smaller of the two. “We’ll take my Harley.” She grinned as she pulled it on. “Ooo, nice! I’ve always wanted to dress like a biker chick. I suppose I should run upstairs and put on some jeans?” “That would be a good idea.” “Be right back.” Val listened for the sound of the front door closing then turned his attention to the trunk at the foot of his bed. Carefully lifting the heavy lid, he reached inside and pulled back the royal blue satin sheet covering layer of soil from the old country. He dug down into the dry earth until he retrieved the airtight plastic bag containing his hand gun. He had checked his weapon out only a few weeks ago, so he was fairly certain that everything was still in working order. Val didn’t want to use it, but if Van Helsing insisted he would do so without
remorse. The one thing he would regret was leaving Melynda. There was no way he could be captured and convicted—he’d never survive in prison. So he would be forced to do like he had many times before, dispatch his enemy, disappear without a trace and reinvent himself all over again in another city, another country, another time. “Damn it. I like my life here in St. Louis. I enjoy photography.” He slipped the gun into the back of his waistband and pulled his jacket over it. “Why can’t the bastard leave me in peace?” “Because he will never know peace himself until he sees us all rot in hell.” Val spun around and slammed down the trunk lid. “Uncle Vlad. I didn’t sense your presence. How long have you been here?” “Not long.” He took a step into the room toward Val. “And I wasn’t spying on you and the beautiful Melynda, although I did just see her leave.” “Good. I’m glad your voyeuristic tendencies are on the wane. We’ve got more problems than we bargain for—Van Helsing is trying to smoke me out by buying my apartment.” “So you’re taking your grievances straight to him rather than using Melynda to flush him out as we planned?” Val pushed past his uncle and headed straight to his motorcycle. Squatting low, he checked on his most recent repair job. “I’ve changed my mind. Now that she’s revealed the full extent of Van Helsing’s madness… I refuse to risk Melynda’s life in such a foolish endeavor.” “Then you risk bringing about the extermination of the Kindred. You risk the end of all of us.” Val clenched his jaw but said nothing. He picked up a wrench and silently tightened a few lose bolts. “Have you nothing to say to that, Valentine?” Vlad arched a bushy eyebrow, crossing his arms across his chest. “Are you content to allow our kind to be wiped off the face of the earth?” “What do you want me to say?” Val stood and faced his tormentor, his eyes aflame with anger and frustration. “I bid you and the Kindred no ill will, Uncle, but maybe it is time for our kind to exit this world.” He ran a hand through his thick mass of hair and sighed. “We don’t belong here. No matter how hard we try to fit in, we will never be at peace.” “You mean you will never be at peace with humans, Valentine. Don’t deny it. You wish to dwell as a mortal. The Kindred have humored your eccentricities long enough. Your loyalty has never been in question until now.” Val frowned. “Who questions my loyalty to the Kindred?” Vlad shrugged. “Your Aunt Hepsthebah for one.” “Hezzie? She never cared much for me to begin with. Anyone else?” “A few others.” Val stared until Vlad grew uncomfortable and held up his hands in surrender. “All right, you win. It’s just her, the cranky old bat.” “Thought so.” Val retracted the kickstand and rolled his bike through the workshop door, out into the living room, onward toward the freight elevator. “As much as I care for dear Auntie Hezzie, I love Melynda more. I won’t allow her to be hurt anymore by Van Helsing.”
“Love?” Vlad stopped at the elevator cage door as if an invisible wall prevented him from taking another step. “Certainly you mean ‘lust’.” “No, Uncle. I mean love.” “You can’t possibly ‘love’ a mortal, Valentine. It isn’t possible for our kind. It’s not our way.” Val smiled. “I know, but I’ve fallen in love—maybe for the first time ever. I can’t fathom existing without Melynda Kerpanik by my side.” He rolled the cycle into the elevator. “Who knows? Maybe the saying ‘love conquers all’ is true… Then the ancient curse of the Kindred will be lifted, and we will live as men once more.” Vlad’s brow knitted together in a frown. “I should hope not. I enjoy the powers I possess. Why should I wish to emulate such limited creatures?” Saying that, he dematerialized into a mist and spiraled up the shaft. Val laughed and closed the cage door and hit the button. On the ground floor he rolled the cycle out into the lobby and through the front doors and down the steps. He halted as he spied a familiar silver Lexus parked in front of the warehouse. “Shelby? What is she doing here?” Vlad reformed and stood beside him. “I spied your landlady driving up just as I came down to visit you. Perhaps it is merely a social visit.” “Possible, but not likely.” Val rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “She’s up to something. Melynda told me that she prefers not to come to the warehouse while it’s in the state it’s in. Something about she’s afraid the construction debris will dirty her expensive shoes.” “Shall I act like a fly on the wall once more and find out the purpose of her visit?” “No, don’t bother. I can wait. Melynda will be out soon and Shelby will follow. Then I can ask for the details of the sale to Van Helsing and learn his exact whereabouts.” “You don’t believe he’s staying at the Adam’s Mark?” “No, I don’t. It’s something I glimpsed that was implanted in Melynda’s mind the other night after she met the pervert. Something to do with barge traffic.” Vlad eyes widened. “He’s staying on the river?” Val nodded. “Makes sense. He knows our aversion to running water.” “Yours perhaps, but I’ve overcome many of our family’s unfounded ‘anxieties’. Turning into an animal does have its advantages.” “It does at that. Thanks for coming to St. Louis to help, Uncle.” “You are most wel…” He halted in mid-thought. “Someone is coming. I must fly.” Vlad threw out his arms and transformed into a coal-black raven, secreting himself on the low branches of a nearby tree. “You can’t wear a biker chick outfit to have celebratory drinks with a client,” Shelby moaned, following her taller cousin from the warehouse. “I’m not selling a motorcycle franchise here—this is a real estate deal.” “I’m not going with you, Shel. I thought you understood. I’m going riding with Val tonight.” Mel paused on the stoop and waved. “Hey, Rebel Boy. Nice bike.” Val grinned. In tight dark jeans and a clingy, white scoop-necked tank top, Mel looked good enough to eat. She flung the leather jacket over her shoulder and scooted her Ray-Bans down on her nose. The wind of the dying day picked up, blowing her black tresses about her face until she caught them up in an old red bandana. Only her pink hightop Converse sneakers seemed slightly out of place.
“Nice outfit,” he purred, momentarily forgetting they had company. His eyes raked across every luscious curve and focused on her tempting décolletage. Now that he had feasted on human blood, he knew he had the strength to pleasure her without ceasing for hours upon days… He couldn’t wait for the opportunity to demonstrate. “Mel, you have to come with me tonight,” Shelby pleaded, grasping at her cousin’s hand and awkwardly tugging her down the steps in high heels toward her car. “There can be no excuses. I can’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” “Shel, are you sure you’re feeling all right?” Mel frowned, wiggling out of the deathlike grip on her arm. “You’ve never, ever been such a whiner before.” Suddenly Val’s every sense came alive. Something was wrong with this picture. But what? “Why can’t you take ‘no’ for an answer, Shelby?” Val demanded. Shelby opened her small pink mouth and stared at him for ten full seconds, then slowly began to speak as if she wanted to halt the words from exiting her lips but somehow she couldn’t. “I … I cannot say. But ‘no’ is not an option. Mel must accompany me to Mr. Van Helsing’s tonight in order to sign the contract. He will not sign without her present.” Val stepped closer and quickly examined his landlord’s eyes. The vacant expression in their liquid blue depths indicated that although Shelby Schwartz had her lights on, nobody was home. This trance had to be Van Helsing’s doing! “Shelby, what’s the last thing you remember doing?” Val asked. “Doing?” “Yes, what were you doing approximately five minutes ago.” “She was watching me change into this killer outfit five minutes ago,” Mel interrupted. Val put his fingers to her lips to silence her. If he was lucky, he could learn more of Van Helsing’s plans from the hypnotized Shelby as he had from Melynda. “Give your cousin a chance to answer,” he said softly. “I was gathering up the rest of the paperwork to close the deal with Van Helsing when he … he…” “He what?” She frowned and rubbed her temples. “I can’t remember. One minute we were talking and then I was here with Mel and she was squeezing herself into a spandex top that’s way too small for her boobs.” She blinked then turned and looked at Mel with an odd curiosity. “How on earth did I get here?” Mel’s eyes widened, fearful. “Have you been drinking, cuz?” Val pulled his lover aside and whispered in her ear, “I think you cousin needs to go home and rest. It’s obvious that’s she’s been under a tremendous strain as of late.” “A ‘strain’ is too mild a term.” Mel shook her head sadly. “I think Shel has totally gone off the deep end.” “Let’s escort her home.” Mel kissed him quickly on the cheek. “Thanks for being so understanding. I’ll drive Shel home. You go on ahead on the bike and we’ll catch up. She lives at the intersection of Lemp and Pestalozzi. After we’ve tucked her into bed, maybe we can go out and paint the town red.” “Sounds like a plan.” Val climbed aboard his hog and roared the engine to life.
“Music to my ears!” he shouted over the din, smiling, as he zoomed away from the curb. “Come on Shel,” Mel murmured, escorting Shelby to her car. “Time for you to go home and crawl into beddy-bye to suffer your little mental breakdown in private.” “You’re going with me then?” Shelby seemed to breathe easier. Mel opened the passenger side door and gently sat her cousin down. “Yes, I’m going with you. I’m driving, sweetie. You just relax and we’ll be home in a few minutes.” Mel squeezed behind the wheel and adjusted the seat for her much longer legs. “Give me the keys, Shel, so I can move this greenhouse gas-producing, gasoline guzzler of a luxury vehicle.” “You’ll find the keys already in the ignition.” Van Helsing’s voice came low and menacing from behind the front seat. “You’ll also find a loaded gun pointed at the back of your head. I suggest you do exactly as you’re told.”
Chapter Ten Mel gulped. Shit… No time to act like a scared schoolgirl, she had to keep up the tough biker chick front if she wanted to get them out of this situation alive. “I expect a tip if the trip is over three miles,” she joked. “Shut up and start the car,” Van Helsing warned. “Turn where I tell you to turn, and I promise you that you won’t end up looking like cheese.” “Cheese? Why would I look like fermented curd?” “Quit stalling. You know what I mean.” Mel sighed loudly for affect and turn around. “Like the hell I would, Tulip Boy.” The cold steel of a hand gun barrel pressing against her cheek stopped her. “On second thought, I get your point. You mean Swiss cheese as opposed to plain old American, which in reality is made out of plastic. I swear it is. It’s so nasty tasting it’s…” “Drive!” The gun pressed deeper into her flesh. “And cease your silly chatter.” Mel relented and started the car. She had never driven a Lexus before and suffered a momentary disorientation as to where the controls to everything were located. “Gee, Shel, some help you are,” she moaned, fumbling for the gear shift lever before she pulled out into the lane. He indicated for her to head to south I-55. “She can’t help you,” he explained in his increasingly annoying clipped European accent. He pulled the gun away from her cheek but kept it where she could still see it in the rearview mirror. “I’ve planted a hypnotic suggestion in Shelby’s mind that if she helps you, I will kill you. Just like that. Since your cousin is very fond of you, she finds herself mentally and physically frozen, unable to do a thing.” Mel glanced over at Shelby staring fixatedly ahead, hands glued together in her lap. She also took in Van Helsing’s outfit, a black turtleneck and black pants. He was either dress for a break-in or to work as an illusionist about to saw a lady in half. “Fan-friggin-tastic. Your real day job wouldn’t be working as a hypnotist in a casino night club act, would it?” Van Helsing laughed in response, a deep, cutting, evil laugh, the kind of laugh that haunted a person’s dreams and invaded every waking thought, filling them with endless dread and soul-crushing terror… Damn it! Somehow he had planted that horrible rape scene in her mind so she wouldn’t go against him. The man was a world-class sicko of the first kind. No wonder he gave off such bad vibes upon their first meeting. No matter how shiny the outside the package was, there was no way to truly hide the festering garbage beneath the surface. Mel accelerated onto the interstate and peeked out of the corner of her eye into the rearview mirror. Val was nowhere to be seen. Her heart plummeted. He had headed over to Shelby’s house first and was probably waiting for them to arrive any minute. Damn! If only her lover was psychic. It sure would come in handy about now. And then her heart lifted. Val? You’ve read my thoughts before—I think. Can you hear me now? Help us! Van Helsing’s got a gun to my head. We’re heading south on I-55. Can you find us and send help? “Watch your driving,” Van Helsing muttered pressing the gun against the back of
Mel’s neck. Glistening beads of sweat dotted her brow. “You’re not keeping in the lane.” “Hey, buddy! Watch what you say about my driving. I drive a whole lot better than most of these yahoos,” she spat at him, working hard to keep up the tough girl front. “So quit your complaining, or else I’ll be tempted to roll this sucker over with you in it and laugh as you go flying across five lanes of traffic.” “But your dear cousin is riding in the passenger seat, or the ‘suicide seat’ as it is sometimes called. You wouldn’t want to risk seriously injuring or killing her, would you?” Damn! The man’s cold logical and blasé tone unnerved her. Why couldn’t he be a stark-raving, drooling psychopath? Then he’d probably make some big mistake, and she’d be able to wrangle herself and Shelby out of this mess. Val, if you’re out there, now would be a good time to call in the cavalry. **** Val idled his bike’s souped-up engine at the intersection of Lemp and Pestalozzi and scanned the neighborhood. Where the hell were they? Just then the raven lighted upon his shoulder. “Whatever you do, don’t crap on the jacket, Uncle.” He cawed loudly in Val’s ear then flew off to behind a parked car and quickly reformed into his usual shape. “Remind me to teach you a lesson in manners sometime, Valentine.” “Sorry about the ‘crap’ reference, but I did pay good money for this thing.” Vlad shook his head and threw up his hands in disgust. “I was talking about allowing ladies to drive off unescorted. You took off on that rumbling contraption of yours like a streak of lightning without so much as a glance around you. Notice anything missing?” “Missing?” Val felt a slicing pain in his head and grimaced. “Mel—she’s in trouble. Don’t ask me how I know it, but I know it.” “Exactly. If you hadn’t been so impatient to go joyriding on your trumped up bicycle, you would have noticed the car wasn’t following you. I spied them driving along the highway, but I couldn’t keep up at those speeds. They were driving south.” “Shit—and I do mean it this time.” Val revved his engine. “Get on. Let’s go.” “Go where, Valentine?” He frowned in thought. “South, I guess. How many silver Lexuses do you suppose there are in these parts?” “Several hundred at least.” Vlad sighed as he seated himself behind Val on the chopper. “No, we are ‘screwed’ to use the vernacular. We will have to seek assistance in order to find the beautiful Melynda and, from what I can tell, her equally charming cousin.” Val’s expression turned positively grim. “You mean, the police?” “No, I was thinking of my … friend. I’ll introduce you to her a bit earlier than anticipated. She may be familiar with the local haunts a lunatic like Van Helsing would frequent. And we can trust her to be discreet.” “All right,” Val said, resignation sucking the life from his words. “We’ll contact your ‘friend’. Tell me where she lives.” “Her shop is on Cherokee. She lives behind it.” He revved the cycle’s engine. “Hold on tight, Uncle. Here we go.”
Esmeralda’s Vintage Everything and New Age Emporium. The loud sixties rock music issuing forth from an open window reinforced Val’s first impression. He groaned. No doubt Vlad’s girlfriend was one of those spaced-out, aging hippie types into crystals and pot and Janis Joplin. Pungent, spicy incense drifted on the breeze from an open window tickling his heightened senses. Worse yet, it made him want to sneeze. Vlad shakily extracted himself off the back of the motorcycle. “Lovely form of transportation. Remind me to never crawl on the back of one of these things ever again.” He dashed to the private entrance to the side of the building and knocked loudly. “Esme, darling,” Vlad called out. “I’ve brought along a friend to meet you.” The door opened. “Vladimir, my love!” cried a plumpish, fifty-something with long, gray-streaked brown hair wearing faded, patched jeans and a tie-dyed caftan top. “I expected you ‘round midnight for our usual…” Her smile wavered slightly. “Who’s the biker dude?” “My nephew, Valentine. Val, this is Esmeralda Groenig, the proprietress of this fine establishment.” She stuck out a chubby hand. “How do you do.” “Not so well.” Val shook her hand then dropped it and glanced around. “Can we come inside? What we need to discuss isn’t for the public’s listening pleasure.” “Nah, but my Janis Joplin sure is!” She laughed and slapped her knee. “I’m kidding, guys. Gee, it’s like you two just came from a funeral. Come on in and lighten the load.” The intense scents of cinnamon incense and vanilla candles almost drove Val out of doors, but he persevered, following his uncle into a small drawing room filled with large, paisley-printed throw pillows and a low coffee table. Esmeralda squatted onto her favorite seat and patted a pillow next to her for Vlad to take. “Sit down and make yourselves comfy. Herbal tea anyone?” “Esme you know I don’t drink tea herbal or otherwise. There’s no need to act coy around Val. He’s like me.” Her eyes widened. “Really? He looks so … so alive. Must be those tight jeans and the leather jacket, huh?” “It must be.” Val smiled and leveled his gaze to hers, willing her to focus her flighty thoughts. Presently, she settled her fidgeting and stared blankly back at him. “Now, Esme, listen to us very carefully. We need your help.” “Of course. How can I help you two gentlemen? Do you need to locate a rare recording or some authentic love beads?” “Nothing like that, my dear,” Vlad said softly. “We need to you to help us track down a person of unsavory character. Where might a person like this hide away from both us and the authorities? We saw him last driving along Interstate 55 heading south.” Esmeralda tilted her head and took a deep breath. “Let me think… If he’s going south, he could be heading for Jeff County. There are lots of places to hide out down there if you’re running from the law. It’s the meth capital of the U.S. you know.” Val closed his eyes and concentrated on Melynda’s thoughts. The bond they shared through her gift of blood had strengthened his mental acuity. Water splashing against something large. Musty dampness in the air. High cliffs. Thick trees. Barge horns. Van Helsing was taking them to someplace along the river. He was certain of it. “Esme, do you know of any hideouts along the Mississippi in Jefferson County?” “Along the river?” She tilted her head the opposite direction. “I’ve heard tales of a
big outcrop along the riverbank called Rush Tower and a mansion nearby in a hard to reach valley called the Castle. I’ve also heard about some really wild hangouts located on old riverboats. You know, like private clubs with all kinds of naughty stuff going on that isn’t suppose to be happening, but it is.” Vlad kissed her hand. “Very good, my dear. Can you give us directions?” “The Castle is south of Bald Knob, near Crystal City, I believe.” Esmeralda provided them with a detailed map and a compass and even poured herself a cup of herbal tea before Val released her from the trance. “Groovy. It feels like I’ve slept for a thousand years and just awoke. Have I become like you and your friend here?” Vlad pulled her into his arms and nibbled playfully along her fleshy throat. “Not yet, my darling Esme, but soon. Very soon. First, we must rescue Valentine’s mate. I want him to be as happy as we are for all eternity.” Val turned toward the door. “Ahem… I hate to put a damp blanket on your cuddling, Uncle, but we’ve got to get moving.” “Yes.” Vlad reluctantly pulled away. “Until tomorrow, dear Esme.” She sighed, a small spark of the Kindred glimmering in the depths of her hazel eyes. “Until tomorrow, dear Vladimir.” **** It sure is dark around here. Mel maneuvered Shelby’s car carefully along the winding dirt track. The trees hugging the steep hills loomed ominously above them, blocking out both stars and moon, swallowing them in blackness deeper and more silent than the grave. They had passed an old mansion of sorts awhile back in this secluded valley, but it appeared deserted. Signs on its gates announced that it was private property and trespassers would be shot on sight. She could only be so lucky. “Your hand must be really getting tired by now,” Mel observed as the gun Van Helsing had pointed to her head began to drop slightly. “Want me to hold it for you?” “Ha, ha. Very funny.” He quickly switched the gun to his left. “Never fear. I’m ambidextrous. I can blow your head off with either hand.” “How wonderful. Can you sign papers with either your right or your left?” He frowned. “Probably. What makes you ask that?” “Oh, nothing. It’ll just make it easier for the cops. While they’re fingerprinting your one hand you can fill out your vital statistics sheet with the other.” The gun pressed against her opposite cheek with renewed vigor. “How droll. I’m almost of a mind to not permanently subject you to my psychic control after all. You’re quite witty and very entertaining as you are. It would be ashamed to turn you into a mindless sex slave.” Mel’s foot dropped against the gas pedal, revving the engine. “A what?” “Watch your speed, Ms. Kerpanik. Your cousin isn’t wearing her seatbelt, and she may get the urge to throw herself from the car again.” “Bastard.” Mel bit her lip and refocused her attention on the road. When she had tried a similar escape tactic earlier in their trip, Van Helsing had suggested to Shelby that if Mel didn’t cooperate with his orders fully, Shelby should toss herself out of the car without hesitation.
Damn it! The man had absolutely no conscience, no heart. All this because he wanted to buy the top floor of an old warehouse? Had he flipped his lid because Shelby had artificially run up the price or something? Or could it be because he couldn’t buy the basement where Val lived? “We’re running low on gas,” she muttered. “Where the hell are we?” “Hell of course.” His evil cackle caused her heart to plummet. “Pull over near the dock and leave the motor running.” Mel stopped the car. As the moon cleared the clouds, its weak light revealed that the dirt track had ended at a remote cove along the river. She could hear the sound of barges in the distance and smell the unmistakable dank, musty aroma of the Mississippi. Van Helsing motioned for her to exit the car. “Move.” He pointed to the path ahead with the gun. Mel took a step forward then halted and crossed her arms in defiance. “Don’t worry. Your cousin will be quite all right. I gave her instructions before you joined us to drive herself home and go straight to bed after she dropped us off at our destination. See?” Mel glanced over his shoulder and watched as Shelby slid over to the driver’s side. She purposefully turned the car around and drove away as if nothing had happened. “She’ll be okay once she gets home?” He took a step nearer and pressed his weapon against her ribs. “Yes, she’ll be fine. A bit disoriented perhaps, but she won’t remember a thing. She won’t remember seeing you at all tonight—or me, of course. She won’t be able to tell the police a thing about our little road trip. So get that silly idea out of your head and keep walking toward the river.” Mel sighed and took a step forward, closing her eyes tight. Val, are you there? If you can hear me, we’re somewhere along the river. It’s an old paddlewheel boat. It looks like something out of the movie Porky’s or something. The closer I get to it, the more I can tell there’s quite a party going on inside … and everyone and their brother is invited. I don’t like the looks of it one bit. Please come and get me off this crazy thing! “Leo!” A thick, greasy man with an Ozark twang rushed toward them as they crossed the bridge leading to a permanently docked riverboat. He sported an awkward scar running the length of his left cheek, a plethora of gold rings on his pudgy fingers and a poorly tailored white seersucker suit and bolo tie. He tipped his white nautical hat in a welcoming gesture. Suddenly Mel felt like she’d been cast on some demented Fantasy Island reality show. “Welcome, welcome. You’ve made it down to my ‘gentlemen’s club’ at long last.” The creepy “riverboat captain” raked his beady, lust-filled eyes along her form. Mel cringed. For an international businessman, Van Helsing certainly associated with a surprisingly low level of humanity. “I see you’ve brought along some fresh meat. Yum, yum.” “Ralphie, it is good to see you again.” Van Helsing smiled at the scum as if he really meant it. He shoved the gun into the small of her back and pushed her toward the lecherous club owner. “I’ve been meaning to visit your fine establishment since I arrived in the States, but business—well, you know how it is. And this lovely morsel is indeed my thank you gift for your services over the years. I sincerely appreciate it.” “So, is tonight the night, Leo? Can I videotape you as you snuff the ghoul with the
sledgehammer and stake? Just think of the Internet sales! It would be a great traffic booster for my super-nasty porn flick website.” “Hmm. I’ll seriously consider it, but only if I get seventy percent of the profits on said film.” “Seventy? Hey, I’m the one who’s been tracking that … thing … for the past few years for you. I think I deserve at least fifty.” “All right fifty. You drive a hard bargain, Ralphie.” The creep reached out to cup Mel’s right breast. He squeezed it until she gasped. “That ain’t the only thing I drive hard.” Both men’s sick laughter chilled her to her core. She stumbled forward as she was pushed along and fell into Fat Ralphie’s sweaty hands. She immediately pushed away from him and gritted her teeth. The man smelled worse than a string of dead catfish hanging outside on a hot summer’s day. “Calm down, calm down, you hungry slut.” His sadistic leer was mere inches from her face. “You’ll be on the receiving end of my cock in no time at all. A feisty one, is she?” Van Helsing nodded. “She’s a handful all right. But I have ways of getting her to cooperate. Let’s have the grand tour of your delightful establishment, shall we?” Mel focused her gaze on the floor and away from the perverted diversions practiced by the select clientele of Fat Ralphie’s Floating Den of Iniquity. Tawdry swirling lights, obscene neon signs, monstrous gilded mirrors and red-flocked wallpaper gave the showboat’s main floor a true bordello atmosphere. A ragtime band of scantily dressed females on bass viol, piano and trombone churned out a raucous tune, half-drowned out by the equally boisterous shouts and squeals of the crowd. None of the ‘club members’ seated—and lying—on the plush, overstuffed low couches and chairs were properly dressed. Without their outer clothing, she could have sworn she’d traveled back in time to the Old West. “Take a good look around, sweetheart.” Ralphie grinned like a madman as he lit up a cigar. “This is going to be your new home from now on.” Mel felt her stomach churning, but she wasn’t about to show any signs of weakness to these thugs. “Yeah, right. Just show me where I can pull the plug and sink this cesspit once and for all.” Fat Ralphie flinched. “Ouch. That hurt. I’m a legit businessman. I pay my bartenders well above what they’d make in the city.” He removed his cigar from his lips and tongued the unlit end suggestively. “Of course, my ‘hostesses’ just work for tips.” “Ugh. I think I’m going to be sick. It’s that aftershave you’re wearing ‘Eau de Rotting Roadkill’, is it? Mind if I ralph in your coat pocket, Ralph?” She laughed at the play on words and rolled her eyes. “It could only improve the outfit.” The burley brothel owner raised a balled fist to strike her then hesitated as he caught Van Helsing’s scowl. He slowly lowered his arm and smirked. “On second thought, I won’t smack you around, although you certainly have it coming to you. My customers prefer the pretty ones unblemished. But if you continue to be rude I’ll stick you down in the galley with Domina and Trixie the Whip and all their leather-loving pals. Understood?” Mel gulped hard and nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Let’s adjourn to a more private place.” Van Helsing waved the gun and smiled like he’d just won the lottery. “We’ve got important business to discuss. I’m sure you’ve got a room somewhere where we can keep Ms. Kerpanik tied up for a while. Don’t you, Ralphie?” A devilish gleam glowed in the murky mirrors of the club owner’s depraved soul. He motioned for two husky bald bouncers dressed in black leather thongs and spiked dog collars to each take Mel by an arm. “Tied up? Yeah, no problem. I’ll get Trixie to do it. She’s good with ropes.” Fat Ralphie’s sadistic chuckle sent a tremor of fear coursing throughout Mel’s frame as she was dragged away down a narrow, shadow-filled corridor.
Chapter Eleven “Esmeralda’s intuition has proven right,” Vlad announced with pride after his transformation from raven back into human form. “Beyond that rocky outcropping there’s a permanently docked steamboat with quite a party going on. There are literally hundreds of private powerboats tied close by to it. I suppose it is the easiest way to access the place.” “And the most clandestine.” Val closed his eyes and focused his concentration in order to reach Mel’s mind. Melynda, are you here on this boat? I lost touch with your thoughts. I’m worried. Answer me, please. “Have you been able to re-establish contact?” Vlad’s tone was gentle. Val shook his head and walked away from his uncle’s sympathetic expression. “No, I haven’t. It’s like the plug was suddenly pulled. One moment, it was all I could do to keep the images and pleas from blinding me as we raced down the highway, but then… They simply vanished.” “It doesn’t mean the worse, Valentine. She simply could be asleep.” “But wouldn’t I hear her voice in her dreams then? I could sense her dreams before. I don’t think she’s sleeping.” “She’s been knocked-out perhaps, but it doesn’t mean she’s no longer with us.” Val turned on his heels and jumped onto his Harley. “No, it could mean exactly that—that she is one of us, that she’s dead and we’re too late.” He hung his head low. Vlad reached out to touch his shoulder, but he pulled away. “I mean, I’m too late. Too late to save her … like Serena.” “Enough!” Vlad stepped in front of the bike. “Stop spewing that self-defeating nonsense this instance, Valentine Drakul. You’re over four hundred years old. I find there’s nothing more sickening than a young vampire in the throws of love. It’s so unseemly.” “But Melynda means everything to me, Uncle.” “And revving that engine will only alert them to our position. Do you think you have the strength to morph into a bird or a bat like I can?” Val slowly dismounted his wheels. “Possibly. I did feed on Melynda’s blood earlier today. What have you in mind?” “Our grand entrance of course. You don’t think we can simply waltz into this den of thieves and kidnappers, do you?” “Hmm… Perhaps we should. It would be the unexpected thing to do.” Vlad’s bushy eyebrows rose by a foot. “Excuse me? You’re suggesting we walk onto this showboat and pretend we’re part of the sleazy clientele and blend in?” “Why not?” Val put an arm around Vlad and pointed to the river. “Melynda has afforded me a good hard glimpse into the mind of this madman, and I’ve been reasoning out his actions. Think about it… Why has Van Helsing lured us to this particular location?” “Because it’s secluded—and because it’s located on a flowing body of water.” “Exactly.”
Vlad began to chuckle. “He thinks we can’t cross over a bridge in human form without being laid out in a coffin. What he doesn’t realize about showboats on the Mississippi is that they are often concreted directly to their piers on land.” Val smiled. “Right. We never have to cross the water. And we are able to access the boat by land because Melynda showed us this private road by projecting her thoughts. Plus she has issued us several telepathic invitations.” He spread his arms wide and began to dissolve into mist. “Beautiful, sexy, talented and smart. That’s my Melynda for you. Let’s fly, Uncle. We’ll walk when we get there.” **** Yowza… Did her head ever ache! What was in that sweet-smelling hankie that stinky ol’ Ralphie had pushed in front of her nose? Probably chloroform. Mel guessed he didn’t want to chance her taking a nip at him like she had the twin bruisers who had dragged her into this room in the first place. Hey, if she could chomp down on their thick digits and cause them to squeal like stuck pigs, just think of the damage she could do to Ralphie’s miniscule pecker! Mel desperately wanted to rub her burning eyes but couldn’t find her hands. Oh. Her wrists seemed to be tied to the posts of a huge four-poster bed. So were her ankles. She pulled against them. Tight. But the ropes didn’t feel too, too bad as she stretched against them. They were covered in plush velvet. Mel sighed. “Nice touch, Trixie.” She groggily raised her head and scanned the room for any means of escape. Two doors, one to her left and the other across from the footboard. Knowing what a sicko Ralphie the club owner was, she’d assume both doors were dead bolted from the other side. Beyond that there was nothing in the windowless room except the big four-poster bed done up in red satin sheets, her leather jacket tossed on top of the left top post, and a bedside table. The red fringed-shade on the small lamp cast a pinkish glow against the bare walls, causing the dark shadows to press in even more. The room felt as closed in and as dark as the womb. Or maybe it was more like she had been thrust into a tomb… buried alive. “No, I’ve got to stop thinking morbid thoughts. Van Helsing has inserted all this death stuff into my dreams. Making me think Val is a vampire. Well, nothing could be further from the truth. Van Helsing—why, he’s the monster!” She bit her lower lip and growled in frustration. “I can’t wait to wrap my hands around that so-called businessman’s boney neck and twist his head off his shoulders. I’d give him a piece of my mind. Correction—take back the piece of my mind he has under his sadistic, psychic control.” Then she remembered: Poor Shelby! Had she made it home all right? Would she snap out of her trance and send for the police? Mel scrunched her eyes tight and concentrated his efforts on contacting Val. Val? Can you hear my thoughts? I’m tied up in small bedroom somewhere above the main deck of the riverboat. I don’t know how long I’ve been unconscious. Ralphie or another of his horny bastards might be coming to take advantage of my situation any minute. Please hurry! As if he heard her telepathic message as well, Van Helsing appeared in the doorway. “Awake at last. I told Ralphie not to go so heavy on the chloroform.”
Mel casually tossed a dirty look at him. “I told the creep to use as much as possible. It keeps the stink of his foul body odor away from my delicate nostrils.” Van Helsing smiled and clapped. “Brava, my beautiful Melynda. Your humor has survived intact. I’m so glad. So very, very glad…” He stepped into the room, allowing the door to shut ominously behind him. He approached the foot of the bed and paused. “What’s the matter?” she spat. “Never seen a woman tied up before? Don’t know what to do with one, huh?” His face instantly displayed contempt in its crimson fury. His hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly at his sides. He thrust one into his pocket. Ah-ha! Mel grinned. She’d nailed this psychopath’s problem on the first try. He could only hurt her in her dreams because he wasn’t capable in the flesh. As long as he couldn’t hypnotize her he had no control over her. She wouldn’t let the scum crawl into her mind again. Mel concentrated her mental energies to send out another message. Here, Val. I’m in here. And so is Small Dick Man. Get him before he decides to get it on. A small switchblade magically appeared in one of Van Helsing’s sweaty mitts. Mel closed her eyes, expecting to feel the cool touch of steel and then the warm spray of fresh blood against her throat any second. Instead she felt the bond holding her right ankle in place fall slack. “I know exactly what I’d like to do to you—and I don’t need you tied up to do it.” His tone sounded soft and in control, his burning rage sublimating into sexual desire. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look deep into his dead blue eyes. “You will do as I say, Melynda Kerpanik. Willingly, gladly.” She tried to turn her head away but the flat of the blade on her cheek forced her to return her eyes to his. The knife skipped down to her white tank top and then poised itself in the crevice of her heaving bosom. “So pretty. It’s a shame to have to cut you at all, but if it must be done, it must be done.” “Then get it over with. I suppose you only need a minute. Or is that too long?” The anger instantly returned. Using the switchblade he both cut her tank top and bra in two, freeing her breasts to his fumbling touch. He placed the knife above her head, gave a low groan and began to move his clothed pelvis rhythmically against hers. “And when the Drakula sees my mark on you?” Van Helsing’s handsome features glowed with an evil sheen of lust and power. “Why, it will make it that much harder on him when he meets his final destiny … knowing he has lost both his soul and his lover for all eternity.” Maniacal laughter momentarily overcame him. Mel shook her head, easily breaking his spell. She shook her left ankle free as well. Now all she had to do was loosen the wrist ropes and she’d be free. “The hideous cackling certainly adds to the romantic atmosphere. No wonder you’re still single.” His thrusting movements and his insidious giggling ceased at her defiance. In the split second of his stunned regard, Mel raised her right knee and rammed it hard where it counted most. “Ooff!” Van Helsing cried, rolling off her and crumpling into a black lump on the floor. Mel quickly kicked her other leg around and attempted to twist free of the wrists
restraints. No go. “You bitch! You she-devil!” He hissed, struggling to his feet. He stood, crouched over, as the door swung open. “You gotta help us, Leo!” Fat Ralphie cried. “There’s a riot downstairs, and it was started by your ghoul—and his buddy.”
Chapter Twelve Val smiled. Amazing what a little hocus-pocus can do. Val and Vlad in raven form swooped down upon the pier and morphed back into their human appearance then easily crossed the concrete bridge to board Fat Ralphies’ Floating Den of Iniquity. Two behemoths in black leather diapers had tried to stop them as they opened the door, but Vlad easily sent them flying across the main lounge with one strategic touch of his index fingers against their chests. Then all hell broke loose. Customers and female employees alike screamed and scrambled for their clothes and valuables. Maybe the vice squad wore leather biker jackets and crimson vests in Jefferson County? Laughter bubbled forth from Val’s lips like water from a cool mountain spring. The colorful chaos of white, tan, brown and pink bodies rushing toward disrobing areas created quite a view. He knocked a few bouncer types into the corners with just the lightest of pushes and then dusted off his hands. Fortified with the blood of his lover, Val’s hope soared. His strength intensified. He felt bold, fearless, no longer caught in the limbo between being Kindred and trying to act human. He was what he was always destined to be. He grinned. It was great being a vampire! “This should keep them scrambling awhile,” Vlad shouted over the turmoil. “Have we taken out all the heavies?” Val scanned the mob and shook his head. “Yeah, it appears so. I think this is just the clientele remembering they have leave now so they can wake up early for church tomorrow morning.” “Of course.” Vlad picked up an errant businessman by his hastily donned suit collar and belt and casually tossed him out the door. “I’ll continue cleaning the mess down here. Now go and find your beloved Melynda. Go!” Here, Val! I’m in here. Hurry! He zoned his attention on her thoughts, following her mentally projected voice. It was coming from above somewhere. How could he reach her? Racing down a long paneled corridor at breakneck speed Val discovered a grand staircase overlooking the sleeping paddlewheel toward the back of the boat. He soared up the red plush carpeted steps with one cat-like leap. There he encountered a wall of burly brutes attired in black bartender aprons standing arm-in-arm whose obvious intent was to slow him down. “Sorry. I don’t drink whatever you’re serving fellows. Out of my way.” The stone giants neither blinked nor budged. He sighed loudly. “All right. If you insist.” Val ripped the closest thug from his colleague’s grip, using his fat head as a battering ram to take out the rest before pitching him into the gilded mirror behind the marbletopped bar. “Too bad. Seven years bad luck for you, buddy.” Val? Is that you breaking glass downstairs? No doubt about it, Mel’s quizzical tone resounded in his head. Melynda! I’m right below you. I’ll be at your side soon. Sit tight.
Well, I’m not exactly sitting… Val leapt over the groaning lumps of flesh formerly known as bartenders and sprinted down another dark corridor until he came to a spiral staircase. He flew through the opening to what appeared to be the bridge. As Val’s head cleared the landing, a thick-soled, white leather shoe came crashing into his skull momentarily dazing him. “Ouch,” he deadpanned. He stepped out of the stairwell and took a menacing step toward the foot. He blinked. The foot was attached to an obese asshole who dressed exactly like Colonel Sanders. “I take it you’re the owner of this fine establishment? Is this how you treat all your guests? It’s not very friendly.” Fat Ralphie’s fleshy face matched the color of his suit. “Hey, I don’t mean nothin’ by it. It’s just that I don’t appreciate folks barging into my private office.” Val bared his fangs for affect and slowly approached the quivering jellyfish of a man. Ralphie leaned away and closed his eyes, rivulets of drool and perspiration rolling down his cascade of chins and pooling on the collar of his shirt. Val zoomed a hand out and clutched the bastard firmly by the throat. “You seem strangely familiar to me. Have we met?” “Val!” came Melynda’s muffled voice from behind a paneled door to his right. “Don’t open the…” Then her voice was silenced. “Open it,” Val ordered. Ralphie’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. Val loosened his grip slightly so the man could gulp some air. “Not on your … whatever.” Val raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Why not? Is there a nasty surprise on the other side waiting for me?” “Nah, just your whore,” the fat man spat, struggling for breath. “Whatever gets into some people wanting to sleep with the dead? I mean it just ain’t … natural.” “This coming from a man who runs a bordello?” Val twisted the corpulent thug around and bent Ralphie’s arms behind his back. He pressed him toward the closed door. “I caught a glimpse of some the ‘natural’ activities going on downstairs. You really ought to be ashamed of yourself. Perhaps those ladies dressed up like naughty nuns can help you do penance?” With a burst of strength Val torpedoed Fat Ralphie into the locked door, shattering it into splinters before his round head careened into the footboard of the four-poster bed, his neck lying at an unnatural angle. Mel’s green eyes widened. “Look out—behind you!” From the corner behind the remains of the office door a black blur leapt out and landed squarely on his back, a large wooden stake in his upraised hands, ready to strike the deathblow between Val’s shoulder blades. “To hell you go!” Van Helsing cried. “You first.” Val tucked his head and somersaulted across the small space, landing on his feet beside Mel on the bed. Knocked off balanced by Val’s swiftness, Van Helsing toppled to the floor, losing his grip on the stake. “I’m glad you found me. What took so long?” Mel scooted up closer to the headboard to give Val room to maneuver. He grinned at her teasing. “I’m glad to see you’re all right.”
Using the bed as a trampoline, Val pounced on his fallen prey, pinning Van Helsing in place as easily as a cowboy lassoing a calf. He grabbed the thick shock of blond hair, pulling the vampire hunter’s face off the floor. “Had enough?” “Have you?” Van Helsing sneered. Val tightened his hold on the tall man’s limbs until the sound of a bone snapping could be heard. “What do you mean by that?” The vampire hunter groaned. “Have—have you consumed enough human blood recently, Val Drakul?” Van Helsing took a series of panting breaths and began to laugh. The low chuckling taunted Val with its depravity. “I thought not. I … I know you have existed on subsistence nourishment for many years now. You have grown weak and withdrawn. Without a proper feed, you do not have the strength to even match wits with the likes of me.” Val smiled as Melynda turned her neck to the side to reveal the small marks near her collarbone. “Arrogant son-of-a-bitch, aren’t you?” He tightened his grip again until he heard another bone shattered. The Dutch man grimaced. “Ah, but if you had drawn enough blood from your whore she would even now show the glow of the Kindred in her eyes. Even I can see from this awkward angle she does not.” “How can you even see in this light? Are you part Kindred?” The insane laughter continued. “You’ll see. But do you really think I would fuck a slut who was part Kindred? And she is a slut, son of Drakul. She was enjoying herself quite well as you can see from her pointed tits and wet crotch before you barged in here. She was moaning with anticipation like a cheap prostitute. When I come out on top of this … we’ll see who she’ll sleep with next.” The world turned scarlet before Val’s eyes. Fury welled inside him, surging the hot lava of hate throughout his form. His canines descended of their own accord. He raised his head and bared his fangs. Not even Mel’s frightened gasp could thwart him from doing what he had to do next. “No, Val, please don’t do it!” “Yes, don’t do it Drakul,” the mad man jeered. “You’re the equivalent of a vampire on Viagra. You haven’t the balls to even suck your whore’s cunt dry.” “Time for a midnight snack,” Val hissed. He sank his teeth deep into the back of his tormentor’s neck and greedily lapped the life force freely gushing from the gaping wound. Mel shrieked. “Valentine—stop!” Vlad dashed into the room as the hallway door flew open. “Vlad! Am I glad to see a friendly face.” Mel motioned with her head. “Use the blade above my head and cut me free of these ropes.” Vlad reached for the closest rope and ripped it from its post then turned to yank a blood-splattered Val off his whimpering victim’s back. Van Helsing sputtered and coughed then went still as his last breath rattled from his lungs. The blood lust faded slowly, bringing Val’s focus back to the room. Mel quietly cut the rope that held her other arm captive then rearranged her torn clothing the best she could to cover herself.
She wouldn’t look at him. He could sense her inner thoughts, a jumble of emotions—excitement, fear, dread, horror. Disgust. “Melynda, I can explain…” “Leave her be, Valentine,” Vlad commanded, tossing him a handkerchief to wipe the blood off his face. “We’ve got more important things to consider right now.” “Like what, Uncle?” “Like how are we going to dispose of Van Helsing’s body?” “Why bother?” Van Helsing slowly rose from his prone position. He dusted off his blood-splattered clothes and laughed. The unmistakable glow of the Kindred shone forth from his deadly cool gray-blue eyes.
Chapter Thirteen “Well, aren’t you gentlemen going to welcome me to the club?” Van Helsing wriggled a blond eyebrow at them in a taunting manner, his sneer indicating his true contempt. “After all, I am your newest member.” Mel gasped. “It’s not possible. You’re … you’re not dead?” “He is dead,” Vlad informed her calmly. “He’s one of the Kindred now, one of us. A vampire.” Val stared at his nemesis and frowned. “How can this be?” “Don’t you know? Your uncle here knows the whole story. Don’t you Vladimir, Count Drakula.” Mel grabbed her leather jacket. She put it on and zipped it up the top. Somehow she felt less vulnerable with her breasts—and her neck—fully covered. “Would someone tell me what the hell is going on here?” she demanded. “Pardon the ‘shop talk’ my dear,” Van Helsing crooned. “But you probably know more about me than either of these two gentlemen. I’ve let you crawl around in my dreams before. You remember… the dream where you’re screaming bloody murder as I ram my huge cock into you over and over and over? You particularly enjoyed that one, didn’t you?” “Enough!” Val tapped the mad man’s chest with a finger, forcing him against the wall. “I ought to snap your head clear off your stinking corpse and ram your mouth full of garlic.” Van Helsing grinned. “But you can’t, can you?” “Why can’t he?” Mel asked Vlad. By his calm demeanor, the older man seemed to know what was going on more than anyone else. “Because the Kindred have all taken a vow never to harm each other, that’s why,” Vlad replied, sadly lowering his head. “Oh. Good reason. Any exceptions?” “No. None.” Chuckling, Van Helsing sauntered through the splintered door, carefully stepping over Fat Ralphie’s broken body as he made his way into the bridge area. “We shouldn’t be antagonistic toward each other any longer sons of Drakul. We’re all part of one big happy family now, right?” “But you’ve been tracking us down one by one for years, mercilessly dispatching us to the beyond.” Val trailed closely behind him. “When did you become part of the Kindred?” “Who or what are ‘the Kindred’? And how does Val know this creep?” Mel whispered into Vlad’s ear before he followed the crowd into the next room. “Later my dear.” Mel sighed. Just like a man—men never gave adequate explanations for their odd behavior. At least her ex had came up with some good phony excuses like having to work late or that it was his duty as principal to take all single teachers out to dinner once a term to keep up with their ‘teaching methods’. Yeah, sure. Oh well. There wasn’t time to ponder the recent developments in hers and Val’s
relationship right now. At least she wouldn’t find herself unarmed again she decided. She grabbed both the switchblade and the wooden stake and secreted them in her jacket before she entered the bridge. Van Helsing circled the large wooden steering wheel in the middle of the room and gave it a playful spin. “I suppose I have you to thank, Vladimir, for this wonderful sense of total power and mastery over my own destiny I now have. You were right. It is far better to join than to fight.” Confusion and hurt danced across Val’s handsome features. Mel longed to hold him in her arms, to comfort him. But the sight of blood on his clothes and his lips and the awful remembrance of what had just occurred… This vampire-business was going to take a little getting used to. “Uncle, don’t tell me you had a hand in this—this monster’s transformation?” Vlad hung his head low. “Not directly, but yes. He cornered me in an alley one night in Istanbul seven years ago. He said he wouldn’t harm me if I told him our secret. So I told him about the antibodies in our blood that would pass on the gift of the Kindred … the curse of eternal life on this plain of existence.” “But it’s not a curse, is it?” Van Helsing rose slowly into the air and landed softly on top of Fat Ralphie’s desk as easily as a sparrow. “It’s true freedom.” Val stared up at Van Helsing, his expression one of pure disgust. “I can’t believe any of the Kindred willingly gave you their blood.” The newborn vampire shrugged. “Some weren’t too willing—I’ll admit that.” “How many of us did you have to destroy until you had a sufficient amount of blood serum?” Val demanded. Van Helsing shrugged. “Probably a few more than necessary. Sorry about that. But I wasn’t sure if I had become Kindred or not. You see, my mother always had the second sight, and I wasn’t sure if my enhanced psychic abilities came from her side of the family or from the blood antibodies. Either way, I make quite the dashing vampire, don’t I?” He opened his arms wide and laughed. “I think I’ll buy a black cape and purple satin vest. Why not dress the part? It’s what the public expects. I’d hate to disappoint them.” “The public?” Mel felt her heart pounding in her ears. “You mean you’re going to…” “Why, of course, my dear Ms. Kerpanik. You can’t expect me to deprive myself of vital sustenance, can you?” His maniacal giggling grew louder. “I’m not a wimp like your boyfriend here. A little blood doesn’t scare me. I plan to have my cake and eat it, too.” Van Helsing leapt through the boathouse window and landed catlike on the roof below amidst a shower of glass. “Exhilarating!” He danced about the dormant steam stacks, laughing and singing. “Meet you in St. Louie, Louie, meet me at the fair…” “We can’t allow Van Helsing to run loose, Uncle,” Val said solemnly. “He’s a genuine madman. He’ll abuse his powers, take what isn’t freely offered, disparage the reputation of the Kindred. He must be stopped—even if we have to break the code.” “Agreed, nephew. Now fly!” Both Drakul men raised their arms and vanished into a mist that reformed itself in the shape of bats. Mel blinked twice and rubbed her eyes. She ran to the windowsill as the flying mammals took wing. “Bats. Somehow, I think this is where I came in.”
**** Come on you maniac. Just dance closer toward the edge… Just one little slip and splash! All our problems will be solved. It had been so long since Val had transformed himself into a bat, that he felt momentarily disoriented. He followed his uncle’s lead and fluttered wildly about Van Helsing’s head, squeaking and shrieking close to his ears, hoping to make the monster lose his balance on the rooftop and fall in the river or at least to the deck below. Since Van Helsing had yet to feed upon human blood, he shouldn’t be able to transform into any other shape. For now they held the advantage. “What a wonderful parlor trick, sons of Drakul.” Van Helsing laughed and swatted at them with his long arms, keeping them at bay. Vlad repeatedly dive-bombed the blond madman but was easily batted away with a hard fist. He spun out like a shot down fighter plane over the side. Uncle! Val quickly peered over the side and caught sight of Vlad slowly dissolving into mist on the walkway below. He hadn’t hit the water, but it was close. No time to fret, however. Vlad could take care of himself. Val returned to his swooping tactics. “What an adorable little flying mouse,” Van Helsing spat at him. “I hope to be able to do the same some day soon. Real soon. In fact, I spy my first real vampire food at the window waiting for me. Thanks for leaving her relatively fresh.” He leapt across the roof and hurdled over the jagged glass edges of the bridge window. There the lunatic snatched Mel about the waist and disappeared down the corridor before she could utter one sound of protest. “Hey, let go!” she shouted before a hand came down hard across her mouth Melynda! Val swiftly followed on wing, but by the time he reached the end of the corridor they were gone. Vanished. Did Van Helsing know of a secret hiding place or trap door somewhere? Val quickly transformed into human form and threw open each and every door along the narrow passageway. The empty bedrooms showed no signs of other exits leading elsewhere. He pounded a fist against a wooden panel. Damn! It didn’t make any sense. Melynda and Van Helsing had to be on board somewhere. The last door to his left contained an out-of-place coat closet. A coat closet? Something in the back of his mind nagged at Val to toss the jackets out of the way. His vampire intuition served him well. Another door. Val, we’re in a secret room, came Melynda’s thoughts. It’s where they hid booze during Prohibition I guess. Now it’s where Ralphie’s nasty porn stash is kept. The man was seriously perverted. Ugh! Stay still and quiet, Val commanded. He reached out to turn the knob. I’m about to open the door. No don’t. He’s got the— “Surprise!” cried Van Helsing, pouncing on Val, knocking him to the floor and pinning his arms behind him with the force of the impact. The psychopath poised the wooden stake directly over Val’s heart. “No!” Mel made a grab for the stick. Van Helsing knocked her away with a swift backhanded motion as easily as slapping away an insect. Moaning and dazed, she
crumpled against the corridor wall. “Say good-bye to your old vampire lover, my dear, and hello to your new vampire lover.” Grinning maniacally, the deranged Dutchman looked like the devil himself. He raised the stake high then paused. “Forget something?” Val arched an eyebrow, attempting to make direct eye contact with his captor. “Garlic perhaps?” Van Helsing frowned. “I just realized something else, something much more important than garlic.” “A silver crucifix?” Val probed deeper into the lunatic’s cold eyes. Perhaps in his newborn state Van Helsing would still be vulnerable to hypnotic suggestion? “Possibly. Most of all I realized that I’m the last of the vampire hunters from the Family Van Helsing. After I’ve dispatched with you and the rest of the Kindred, there will be no one left to hunt me down. Isn’t that a pity?” “Yes, it is.” Val drove his gaze deeper, hoping to steal his captor’s concentration away from his slight movements. He had wedged himself against the walls of the narrow passage now. All he needed was just a few more moments to rotate into a slightly better position so he could free his hands and pitch the bastard off his chest. “It is a pity,” Val continued. “You’ll be out of a job. Your existence will have little meaning when we’re all gone.” “Little meaning? My life has plenty of meaning. It’s been one long crusade to rid the world of the Family Drakul and the Kindred.” Van Helsing lowered the stake slightly. “Oh, I see what you mean. I suppose I’ll have to take up another cause.” “Or someone else will rise up and track you and your kind down. I wouldn’t flatter myself to think I was the only vampire hunter on the planet. There are others. You have competition.” “Competition?” Bingo. Val tried hard not to grin. A sneer curled the blonde’s full lips. His gray-blue eyes clouded over with rage and malice. “Tell me who this competition is and I will be rid of them!” “Too late, Leo. They’re already here.” Val pressed hard against the wall with both his feet and the top of his head, simultaneously twisting his trunk and freeing his hands. He tossed Van Helsing with enough force to propel the fledgling vampire into the air on his first flight without benefit of transformation. The look of confusion on the fiend’s face as he flew down the corridor and tumbled down the grand staircase and landed in an unmoving mass at the bottom was priceless. Val couldn’t help but laugh. Too bad Van Helsing was an immortal. A fall like that would have easily broken a man’s neck. As he was now, he probably felt only stunned. “What’s happening?” Mel muttered, her eyes blinking open. “Val? Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” He knelt by her side. “Do you think you can walk?” She nodded. “Yeah. I’m a little dizzy. Not my normally dizzy self—it’s from hitting the wall, you see…” “Sh! No time to talk. We’ve got to make sure Van Helsing doesn’t escape.” “Right.” Val helped her to her feet. He flashed her a reassuring grin, but Mel stood grimly observing him, silently regarding him in a whole new light. There was nothing he could
say to explain away what had happened this evening. The explanation she needed to make sense of it all would take much more time than there were dark hours in a night. And Val knew sometime soon she’d demand a full account. “I want you off the boat,” he said. “You’ll find my motorcycle a little ways down the road you came in on. Take it and go on home.” “Val, I can’t just leave you here with this loony-tunes trying to kill you—er, trying to park you permanently in a coffin.” “Yes, you can. I can take care of myself. If you don’t hear from me before sunrise, don’t worry. I may have to hole up somewhere for the duration of the daylight hours, but I will be at your side again soon, Melynda. Believe me.” “I do believe you, Val. It’s just that it’s all still a bit of a shock discovering that you and your uncle are … well, different.” He put a finger to her lips. “We’ll talk later. Stay close.” Val led Mel down the grand staircase, indicating for her to wait on the third from the last step. He slowly made his way toward Van Helsing’s sprawled body, picking up the somewhat splintered wooden stake laying a foot from his adversary’s hand. He grimaced at the thought of almost being speared by the super-sized toothpick. “Hold onto it, Valentine.” Vlad approached from the bar area. “It will come in handy.” “Do we have to? I mean, the code of the Kindred and all. Can’t we chain him inside a crate and toss him in the river and be done with it?” Vlad shook his head. “If there’s even the slightest of chance he’ll be able to free himself again then all of the Kindred will be in danger. No, I’m afraid we’ll have to permanently put him out of our misery.” Vlad bent down and took hold of one arm and motioned for Val to take the other. Val stashed the stake in his back pocket before kneeling down to help drag Van Helsing’s limp form toward the exit. Mel ran down the stairs and stood beside them. Val paused. “On second thought, you’d better stay here until we’re finished, Melynda,” he ordered. “You won’t enjoy watching what we’re going to do to him.” “I can’t stay in this place alone.” She shivered and pulled the jacket closer about her chest. “This boat is full of … weirdoes.” “She’s right,” Vlad agreed. “I would have come to your aid sooner, Valentine, but a couple of Fat Ralphie’s ruffians still on the prowl kept me occupied. I think I’ve dealt with them all, but one can never be too sure.” Val reached for the pistol in his waistband and handed it to her. “Here. Do you know how to use a gun?” Mel swallowed hard. “Uh, sort of. I’ve shot a rifle before when I went duck hunting with my dad once. I can shoot fairly straight.” “Then you know more than most people. Just remember not to point it at us and you’ll be okay. We won’t be too long.” “What would happen if I did accidentally shoot either of you?” Vlad shrugged. “We’d be mildly annoyed. It’s difficult finding a good tailor who works nights to patch bullet holes in your clothing.” A puzzled look flashed over her beautiful features. “Oh. I see.” Val turned away. He couldn’t stand to think how he appeared in his beloved’s eyes. He was a freak, a monster, a corpse occupying prime real estate space in an up-and-
coming new loft district. “Let’s get this over with fast, Uncle,” Val announced the moment they reached land and flipped Van Helsing onto his back. Fortunately the new vampire appeared completely out of it. Val reached for the pointed stick in his back pocket and held it out. “Shall I drive it in or will you?” “I will, Valentine. It will help me atone for my stupidity in sharing our secret with a vampire hunter. It was foolish of me, but I really thought he would somehow…” Vlad shrugged. “It was a foolish notion.” “What? You thought he wouldn’t use the knowledge for his own gain? That he’d come to understand and accept that we exist and learn not to despise us anymore?” “No, I really thought maybe he was the one who would discover a cure for our condition.” Val stared hard at Vladimir Drakul, a man he had known for centuries, a man who seemed to relish the vampire life and all its ways. It didn’t make sense. “I never knew you had grown tired of our ‘condition’, Uncle,” Val said gently. “If any of the Kindred had ever wanted to find a cure, that would be me. But I’d never trust a madman to do anything so altruistic.” Vlad nodded and accepted the wooden stake. “You’re right. I was gullible. He caught me at a bad time when I was feeling low and talked me into it.” He smiled. “I’m better now.” Val knelt and ripped open Van Helsing’s shirt, exposing the vulnerable heart for penetration. “We’re just lucky Leo here didn’t license the chemical formula to a major pharmaceutical company. I could see the headlines now, ‘Eternal Youth Available through One Small Injection of Vampire Serum’. He could have made billions of dollars. Most mortals desire eternal life—whatever the cost.” Vlad straddled the inert form, raised the sharpened piece of wood and began to recite the ancient ritual. “From dust ye whence came, to dust ye shall return…” “Billions you say?” Van Helsing opened his eyes and sat up, grabbing the tip of the upraised spear. “I never thought of that.” “Shit!” Val grabbed Van Helsing’s shoulders, struggling to force the madman flat to the ground. “Do it! Quickly!” Val watched helplessly as Vlad attempted to wrestle the stake from Van Helsing’s super-human grasp. The new vampire’s reserve of strength was phenomenal. The fiend flipped Vlad onto his back then reached over his head to toss Val toward the water. Val landed on the pier’s wet surface and slid until he hung over the edge. His fingers fumbled for purchase, his feet dangling barely an inch above the water. “Valentine! Be careful!” “Be careful yourself, Uncle!” Van Helsing stood tall over Vlad, cackling with maniacal glee at the older vamp’s surprised expression. He centered the sharpened stick over the count’s heart and lifted it high to strike the final blow. “Never trust a rich man, Drakul,” he said, lifting the stake higher. “A rich man will always want the things money can’t give him, like power and eternal life. Now, it’s off to hell with you.” A shot rang out. The wood shattered into splinters in Van Helsing’s hand. “What the…”
The projectile torpedoed through Van Helsing’s chest, passing through his heart. His body jerked backward. Stunned, he stared in disbelief at the bloody hole in his body and then at the woman on the pier leveling the gun at him. “Need a new tailor?” Mel taunted. She took a step toward him. Van Helsing’s face contorted in rage. “That was uncalled for. My dear Mel you will be my first meal.” “Melynda, get out of here! Now!” Val dissolved into a mist. Vlad did likewise. “Your first meal, huh?” Mel took a step closer toward the madman. “You want fries with that?” “Fries?” Van Helsing gazed down the fountain of red spurting out of his chest and stepped forward. His stumbling movements indicated that the blood loss was taking its toll. “I think not. Aren’t they bad for your heart?” “Ha!” she snorted. “You’ve got to actually possess a heart first in order to worry about hurting it.” “Oh, very funny.” He pulled the torn pieces of his turtleneck together, trying in vain to cover the bullet hole. “It seems we both have been rather rough on our clothing tonight. I promise after you’ve joined me for some liquid refreshment, we’ll go shopping.” She leveled the gun at his head. “Over my dead body.” “Precisely.” He grinned. “Need any help?” A raven answered his offensive question with a raucous caw, the sound echoing ominously against the rocky outcropping of Rush Tower like a death knell. Val swooped down and knocked Van Helsing to the ground while a transformed Vlad flew low and retrieved the largest remains of the wooden stake, grasping it tightly in his claws. Mel covered the dazed Van Helsing with the gun as the ravens morphed back into human forms. “I was wondering when you two were going to show up,” Mel said, grinning. “Like my shooting?” “Very much so.” Val caressed her cheek and smiled. “You saved us.” “Yes, you did, my dear Melynda,” Vlad concurred. He nodded toward the woods. “Now, please leave us for a moment and allow us to finish this awful deed.” Mel walked toward the dark shadow of the trees, glimpsing every now and then over her shoulder. She caught sight of Vlad kneeling beside Van Helsing and raising the halfstake over the gaping wound her bullet had made. He spoke some ancient words and then quickly thrust the stick into Van Helsing’s chest. Van Helsing breathed out a long gasp and lay still. Vlad then began another litany while he unsheathed a slightly curved, silver blade from a holster at his side. He handed it to Val who murmured some words in response. Mel turned her head just in time to miss Val swinging the blade against Van Helsing’s long neck, decapitating the corpse. The earth began to shake. A sound like the rushing of a tornado filled her ears. “What’s happening?” she cried. She fell to her knees and looked toward the river. A tower of red light filled with a glittering array of electrical charges spun around and around where the body of Van Helsing had lain. Faster and faster the cloud twirled until it formed what appeared to be a cone of pure energy. The clouds parted, and the heavens themselves seem to open up,
receiving the spire of swirling gases like an offering. Then the light vanished and the shuddering stopped. The stars sparkled as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Val rushed to her side. “Are you all right?” “Earthquake… Was it an earthquake? Or a tornado? I swear it felt like both.” “It wasn’t either one.” Val helped her to a standing position. He allowed her to lean heavily against his strong arm as they headed down the dark path toward his cycle. “It was the end of a very evil man. Thanks to you, there’s one less monster in the world.”
Chapter Fourteen One less monster in the world. Three days later, Mel still pondered Val’s words. Was Van Helsing a monster because he had been transformed into a vampire or was the crazy Dutchman a monster because of his obsession with ridding the world of the Kindred? Either way, someone ought to pin a medal to her blouse for helping to get rid of the bastard! “Mel, you’re not listening to me,” Shelby whined. She tapped her toe on the wooden floor impatiently and frowned. “I asked you to give me the ideas you had for the penthouse floor plans. Can I see them please?” “Oh, right.” Mel pushed the cobwebs from her mind and jumped off the sofa. “The floor plans. I’ll get them.” She shuffled over to the dining table where she had been busy working on sketches of various layouts for the top floor apartment. Shelby was acting more irritable than ever since Mr. Van Helsing hadn’t returned any of her calls. Mel didn’t have the heart to tell her why. “Thanks.” Shelby accepted the drawings and quickly scanned them. “Nice, real nice. I like this idea of the slanted half walls between the dining and living areas. Perhaps the nice couple that stopped by my office yesterday would go for these. I mean if Mr. Van Helsing doesn’t show up and sign on the dotted line soon.” Mel sat on the sofa’s arm and slid a comforting arm around her cousin’s shoulders. “I’d go ahead and sell it to the couple, Shel. After all, they’re probably a two-income family and would be able to keep it better than a jet-setting bachelor. Don’t you think?” “Yeah, I have to agree with you. First one to hand me the down payment gets it. Fair enough. I just wish I knew where I went wrong with Mr. Moneybags. I thought the guy was very excited about buying into the building. He certainly only had complimentary things to say about you.” A cold shiver zinged down Mel’s spine. Complimentary all right—as in her blood would have made a fine main course along with a green salad. She shook her head and forced herself back to the present. “You know how these high-roller types are—here one minute, gone the next. I’m sure he’s working on some big business deal somewhere and can’t be bothered to take time out of his busy schedule to tell you he’s changed his mind. Maybe he’s moved to a tropical island or something.” “He could have called me and let me know the deal was off. Manners do seem to be a thing of the past.” Sighing, Shelby stacked the sketches neatly and handed them back to Mel. “Keep up the good work here, cuz. Thanks to you, our first tenant besides our cave dweller moves in next week.” Mel looked wistfully at her drawings. “Yes, the neighborhood will soon be bustling with new faces.” Shelby stood and gathered up her papers. “Are you sorry it won’t be just the two of you anymore? You and your vampire lover in the basement?” The color instantly drained from Mel’s face. Had Shelby been wise to Val’s true condition all along? “Excuse me? What did you just now call Val?”
“A vampire. Oh, wipe that wounded expression off your face, Mel. I didn’t mean anything by it.” Mel slumped. Whew! “I’m joking, of course,” Shelby continued, straightening the contents of her briefcase before closing it. “But you can’t say that man doesn’t act like a vampire straight out of the movies. He sleeps all day and works all night. So, what’s he been up to lately? You haven’t said much about him the last few days.” “Val? Oh, he’s been busy working on a project for a special client…” Mel flashed back to the night at the river when the swirling, twisting tower of light and electricity had been sucked back up into the sky. She had watched with curiosity as Vlad had retrieved all of Van Helsing’s ashen remains and stored them in a small container. When she had queried Val about the odd activity, all he could tell her was that it was necessary, something to do with the code of the Kindred. The next evening he informed her that he and Vlad had to travel back to the Old Country to present their case before the others, but that they would return soon. “When will you be back?” she had asked. “Val, we really need to talk. I…” “Later,” he had said. He hadn’t sound brusque or irritated; rather he sounded sad and resigned to his fate. Would she ever see him again? “I hope the trip to Transylvania isn’t too long.” “Transylvania?” His dark brows knitted together. “Ah, you mean the Old Country. It’s not that far. In fact, you’d be surprised how close it can be. But we’ll discuss this when I return.” He pulled her into his embrace and kissed her lips gently, tenderly. Then he walked out of her place without so much as a backward glance. Mel didn’t know whether to cry in anguish or scream in anger. “I can tell you miss him,” Shelby said, interrupting Mel’s musings and dragging her back to the heartache of reality. “I gotta go now. Walk me to my car so I don’t trip down the front steps in these heels.” Mel followed her cousin to her car parked out front. Shelby turned and smiled at her. “You really have a thing for this troglodyte, huh?” “A thing?” Mel frowned. “You make it sound like a disease.” Shelby rolled her eyes heavenward. “Gee, you really don’t get it, do you? You’re in love, Melynda Kerpanik. It’s not just lust—although I could tell you two were in lust the other day when I stopped by and tried to get you to go with me to see Leo Van Helsing.” “You remember coming here that evening?” Mel felt her heart beat quicken. “What all do you remember, Shel? Tell me.” The petite blonde stopped in her tracks and stared at her cousin. “What all do I remember? Let me see… I remember you wouldn’t go along with me to sign the contracts and so I drove over to Van Helsing’s office by myself. But he wasn’t there for some reason. So I went home and went straight to bed. I had an awful headache.” Mel exhaled a shaky breath. Good. The hypnotic suggestion Van Helsing gave her worked. It was better if Shelby didn’t remember their little drive in the country. “Anyway,” Shelby continued, exiting the front entrance and strolling to her car, “I could tell then that you and Val were in love and not lust by the way his eyes were always focused on you. I’m so jealous.” “Jealous? Shelby, you’re happily married. I’m the one who should be jealous.”
“So I’m happily married. You will be again one day soon. But you always were the guy magnet. It just makes me feel … well, inadequate in the sex appeal department.” Mel nodded. “Uh-huh. This from a woman who wears high-heeled sneakers and coordinating underwear with her tracksuit—plus make-up. I dress like a slob. The construction workers all whistle and wink at you and ignore me unless I’m hammering in a nail the wrong way. You’ve got a lot more going on in the sex appeal department than I do, Shel.” “You think so?” “I know so. Besides doesn’t Graham ever tell you you’re ‘one hot mama’?” “Not enough.” She opened the car door and stowed her briefcase inside. “Oh, the joys of being married to a traveling salesman. We’re like two Mississippi barges that pass in the night. At least you and Val seem compatible.” “Compatible?” “Yes, you’re both artists and you both like motorcycles.” Mel’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know we both like motorcycles?” Shelby blinked. “I don’t know. I just have this image in my head of you dressed like a biker chick in a leather jacket.” She crawled into the driver’s seat. “Weird, huh?” “It’s weird all right.” Mel smiled. “See you tomorrow for brunch, right?” “Right, cuz. Sleep tight.” Mel waved her cousin off then stood staring toward the horizon and the dying light of a hot summer’s day. Streetlamps sparked on and the roar of Interstate 55 died as the last of the commuters made their way to their suburban homes in the county. Night had arrived again with still no sign of Val. Maybe if she sent him a mental message like she had on the riverboat? Val? Where are you? We need to talk. “Melynda, I’m here. Turn around.” She startled and spun on her heels. “Whoa! You scared me half to death. When did you get back?” “Just now. I used what you might call a fast form of transportation known only to the Kindred. It’s difficult to explain.” “A lot about you is difficult to explain.” Her jaw dropped as she noticed the rays of the setting sun casting shadows across his face. “Hey, I just noticed—you’re standing in sunlight, Val. Aren’t you ‘allergic’ to it anymore?” “I’m still sensitive if I stand directly in the full sun, but I can tolerate it well enough at dawn and dusk now. I have you to thank for that.” “Me?” “Yes. But let’s go inside before we discuss it further.” He took her arm and led her into the building and down the steps to his place. “We shouldn’t be disturbed.” “You worried someone might interrupt us?” “Not really.” He pointed to the leather sofa. They sat down together, but he seemed reticent to reach out and touch her. “Uncle Vlad is occupied elsewhere. In fact, he wants us to join him and Esmeralda around midnight for a little celebration.” “Esmeralda?” Mel raised an eyebrow. “One of Vlad’s lady friends I presume?” “You could say that. She was a big help in trying to locate you on the river.” “Then I owe her a big thank you.” Mel bit her lip, nervously sizing up Val’s downcast expression. “Have I done anything to upset or offend you?”
His head jerked upward. “No. It’s just that after all you witnessed the other night I… Well, I wasn’t sure you’d ever want to…” “Speak to you again?” He nodded. “That and more. I wasn’t sure you’d ever want to see my face again knowing that I’m … different.” Chuckling, she reached for his hands and brought them to her lips for a gentle kiss. “Different? Different? Different doesn’t come close to describing what you are, Val Drakul.” His dark eyes glowed with gratitude as he returned the kiss. “Then you aren’t disgusted by what you know about me and the Kindred?” “No way. It takes more than a little blood and a scary wannabe Vegas hypnotist to scare Melynda Kerpanik off.” She sat taller, holding her head high. “I used to teach preschoolers, you know. You should see the gross messes they make during the cold and flu season. Why, I remember this one little snotty-nosed brat who came down with a stomach virus and single-handedly infected his entire kindergarten class. The janitors never got that carpet cleaned thoroughly. You should have smelled that room. It totally reeked.” He laughed. “I’ll take your word for it. So you’re telling me you find vampirism less revolting than dealing with sick children? That’s comforting to know. I was concerned that once you knew the true extent of my condition it would drive you away.” “Nothing could drive me away from you Val except…” “Except?” “Except if you said you didn’t feel the same way I feel about you.” Val drew her into his embrace and held her close, tenderly kissing the top of her white part. “I’ve never felt more for another woman ever, Melynda. You are my every waking thought, my reason to continue this cursed existence.” “Cursed? You feel cursed because you’re immortal?” “Yes. And because the only way I can remain immortal is to consume the blood of humans.” A restless smile creased his lips. “Oh, to be free of this curse and to live the life of a normal man! To love you freely and openly in the full light of the noonday sun—yes, that is my wish. To dwell in shadows and to feast on the death of others is no way for anyone to spend eternity.” Mel sighed. “Immortality doesn’t sound very fun when you put it that way.” He kissed her hand again and held her close. “If only someone could find a cure. Then we could be together like any normal couple. I could grow old with you and love you as you ought to be loved.” “Would you take the cure if one was offered—even if you risked ultimate death?” “Of course. I would die happy knowing I had loved you.” “Oh, Val.” She caressed his cheek, tilting his chin and bringing his lips toward hers. “You’re the most romantic immortal a girl could ever hope to fall heads over heels for.” She pressed her lips to his, wrapping her arms about him as he did likewise. Their kiss, lasting for a time without end, deepened. His tongue darted forth from its velvety hiding place, probing and searching for her response, with no sign of fangs. Mel sighed as they fell backward onto the leather sofa, his hands freely roving and caressing her curves. He tugged her shirt up and then off her body so he could taste her pebbled nipples beneath. She groaned with pleasure as he circled his tongue around their peaks again and
again. Reaching for his zipper, she found the evidence of his excitement straining against it. Within moments their remaining clothing barriers fell. Tenderly he parted her thighs and slid himself deep inside her. Mel gasped, knowing she’d never ever get enough of her vampire lover’s expert attention. Eagerly she thrust her hips to meet his determined strokes as he lowered his mouth to her slender, alabaster neck. “Hmm, yes… That’s it,” she encouraged him. “Bite me harder, Val. I don’t mind. I … I want to be like you. I do. I want to spend eternity with you.” He pulled back and gazed deeply into her eyes. “No, you don’t want to be like me, Melynda. No sane person truly does. But I can control myself now. I don’t have to drain all your life force at once like I once thought I did. Others in the Kindred have showed me the way. I can be your vampire lover and you can remain human. Our eternity doesn’t have to begin with death.” She smiled. “All right—let it begin with one good hard bang then.” “Why, you incorrigible romantic you!” Chuckling, he returned to the enjoyable task at hand. His thrusts came harder and faster while his fangs penetrated the sweet valley between her neck and shoulders, drinking in the joy of her freely offered life force. “Oh, Val…” Mel moaned and writhed, gladly giving and receiving pleasure until the stars of ecstasy sparkled and spun dizzily before their eyes and both cried out their undying love. **** Hours later, Val reluctantly crawled out of bed. “You better put some clothes on. I promised Uncle Vlad we’d be there before midnight.” Mel wrapped the sheet about her as she stood on tiptoe to kiss her lover once more. “What’s so special about midnight? Is someone rising out of the grave then?” “You could say that. It’s Esmeralda’s ‘coming out’ party.” “Coming out? Is she gay? I thought you said she was one of Vlad’s girlfriends?” “She is, she is. But she’s been gone for a little while and now she’s back to stay. For good. You’ll see.” Mel headed toward the living room to gather her strewn clothing. “I have a feeling that being involved with a member of the Kindred is going to keep me on my toes. So many new things to see, to do, to experience. My life seems dull by comparison.” Val grabbed the end of the sheet and twirled it around until she stood naked before him. “Dull is not a word I’d ever describe you Melynda Kerpanik. Luscious, sexy, smart and brave maybe but never dull.” She laughed. “Why thank you. But stop using that name. It’s driving me nuts.” “Melynda? You mean you want me to call you ‘Mel’ from now on?” “Nah, Melynda’s okay.” She wrapped her arms about his muscled form and playfully squeezed his buns. “Both you and my parents call me that and it’s fine. It’s that awful last name.” “Kerpanik?” “Yes. I’m tired of it. It belonged to my bloodsucking ex-husband. I’ve dumped him for an incredibly virile and handsome bloodsucking vampire. And, unlike Dorothy, I don’t want to return to Kansas ever again.”
The End About the Author: Celine Chatillon is the alter ego of multi-published contemporary romance novelist, Cynthianna Appel. Celine finds writing erotica a very pleasant departure from her day job as a small press manuscript reader. Celine's first erotic romance stories were published in Xodtica ezine. She has published several erotic romance tales with other publishers. Help! I’m Falling for the Vampire Next Door is her first book with Liquid Silver Books.
Meet LSB Authors At The House Of Sin Lsbooks.NET We invite you to visit Liquid Silver Books LSbooks.com for other exciting erotic romances. MOLTEN Silver Edgier, naughtier – from Summer 2006 Featured Series: The Zodiac Series: 12 books, 24 stories and authors Two hot stories for each sign, 12 signs The Coven of the Wolf by Rae Morgan Benevolent lusty witches keep evil forces at bay Fallen: by Tiffany Aaron Fallen angels in hot flight to redeem their wings The Max Series by JB Skully Meet Max, her not-absent dead husband, sexy detective Witt, his mother… And many, many more!
