“Are you sure you should walk home alone, Grace? Even in a small town like Boulder, women can’t be too careful,” a female voice called out.
Grace finished locking the door to her sound-healing studio and turned to the group of attendees still lingering on the sidewalk in front of the building. She looked into their sincere faces and smiled. It was the same every time. People got so energized after participating in the sound circle that they tried to stretch the evening out as long as possible. She, on the other hand, yearned for peace, quiet and a large glass of wine. After a session, she needed to be alone to recharge. Walking home through the quiet, tree-lined streets at the end of the evening had become a private pleasure.
Grinning, she reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a small aerosol canister. “Don’t worry about me.” She raised the container. “I’ve got my trusty pepper spray. I’m armed and dangerous. Besides, my house is only a few blocks up the hill and, in all the years I’ve lived here, nobody’s ever bothered me.”
She almost mentioned she’d never even encountered a mountain lion, but decided not to broach the issue. It wouldn’t be wise to give the group any more ideas about why she might need company - whether she wanted it or not. Nothing scary had ever happened to her - fanged predators or otherwise. Unfortunately, she thought, nothing exciting, either.
“I’ll see you at the next sound circle.” She waved and hurried down the street before the singers could foil her escape. She loved all her clients and circle members, but it had been a long week and it wasn’t over yet.
Taking a couple of deep breaths, she felt herself begin to unwind. She walked until she came to a dead end, then turned towards the foothills, climbing the gentle trail that led to her house. She gazed up and smiled. The full moon illuminated the peaks of the Rocky Mountains, outlining them in breathtaking detail against the star-studded tapestry of the night sky. Lights from the houses sprinkled across the canyon glittered like suspended fireflies in the magical darkness.
The late summer air held a subtle hint of fall, her favourite season, and she fantasized about the autumn equinox sound ritual she’d be creating again this year. She had invited sound healers from all over the world to participate. Thinking about the event, she remembered the face of the handsome Brazilian musician she’d met at the summer solstice celebration in Rio.
He’d smiled at her with those amazing, full lips — displaying wicked dimples and beautiful white teeth - and she’d lost the ability to speak. His eyes were the colour of the Mediterranean Sea, and she’d longed to dive in. That memory caused heat to shimmer through her body, and she unbuttoned her jacket.
Of course, she hadn’t had the courage to take him up on his unspoken offer. So, what else was new?
She’d mailed him an invitation to her equinox ritual, and she didn’t know what worried her more - that he wouldn’t attend, or that he would.
She shook her head, thinking how pitiful it was that even the thought of the musician caused her body to overheat. She was too old for that kind of reaction. She wanted to get over her dating anxiety and find a relationship - like a normal woman. How could she be so confident as a performer and healer, yet such a basket case about men? Why did she turn into a tongue-tied teenager every time a handsome guy came near?
A rustling sound a few feet away snapped her attention from the Brazilian. Startled, she stopped and raised the pepper spray, scanned the bushes and trees, and listened. Her heart pounded against her ribs, adrenaline shot through her system. That’s what she got for being cavalier about mountain lions. She should know better. Simply because she’d never come across one of the beasts, didn’t mean they weren’t there. Her hands trembled so badly she almost lost her grip on the canister, and her knees threatened to fold. She’d heard that the deadly cats stalked their prey. Was one watching her now? Her mind spun as she tried to remember what the article in the newspaper said about the lions: try to look big and never run. Run? Even though that was what her brain demanded, she didn’t think her legs could manage, since they seemed to be made of rubber.
She waited in the thick silence with her finger poised over the canister, her stomach tight. The seconds passed like hours. She finally let out a shuddering breath, relieved that her imagination had probably exaggerated the sound of a deer or a raccoon. She’d just relaxed her shoulders and taken a couple of shaky steps up the path, when something large burst out of the bushes.
Pivoting towards the movement, she screamed and pressed the spray button, sending a shower of the caustic substance into the eyes of a husky man who’d lunged at her, hands clutching, mouth gaping to reveal long, bloody fangs. He shrieked as the irritant coated his eyes and face, but still managed to tackle her ferociously, slamming her body down onto the asphalt path. Her canister bounced against the ground and rolled away.
The man - or whatever he was - had outrageous strength. He pressed against her like a concrete slab, easily holding her down, while madly swiping at his eyes with one of his hands. The treacherous, long, razor teeth she’d glimpsed as he’d leaped at her were poised over her neck, dripping saliva and blood. She could feel the slimy, wet substance oozing down her shirt as she choked on the hideous stench of his breath.
His long, dark hair hung filthy and stringy, his skin deathly pale, his clothing torn and foul.
She kicked and flailed, pushing against his powerful shoulder, trying to dislodge the unnatural, unbelievable beast. Her arms ached from the useless pounding, her throat went raw from screaming. His body weighed so heavy against her chest, she feared her ribs would snap any second. Her heart thundered in her ears as if about to explode from the terror.
He’d kept up a growling rumble, punctuated by yelps and groans, as he frantically worked to clear his eyes and wipe his face.
Struggling for air, she made gasping noises, all the fight gone out of her limbs.
The tips of his pointed fangs broke through the skin of her neck, sending a wave of pain radiating down her body. This is it! As she braced for the expected horror, suddenly the monster was gone. His weight no longer pressed on her chest so she could breathe. Shocked, she blinked her eyes, realizing she must have closed them in her panic.
For a moment she felt certain she’d died - that the thing had torn out her throat or crushed her heart. She hadn’t seen a white light or a tunnel. There were no idyllic scenes, no relatives coming to guide her to greener pastures. And it was strange that her body still hurt, but she had to be dead - there was simply no other possible explanation.
She’d looked up and seen the perfect face of an angel.
And then nothing.
“Shit!” Ethan yelled. He grabbed the back of the undead troublemaker’s filthy shirt, jerked him off the woman and dangled him in the air. “Nelson! Come and take this disgusting specimen, would you?”
He turned his gaze to the frightened eyes of the beautiful woman sprawled on the path, gave her the command to “sleep”, and watched her eyelids close.
Of all the rotten luck. He’d lost sight of the brainless newbie for one minute and look what happened? Of course there had to be a mortal walking around. Why didn’t these humans stay in their houses at night, like they were supposed to?
Nelson crashed through the trees and retrieved the snarling bloodsucker from Ethan’s grip. He locked eyes with the flailing fiend, gave him a suggestion to be still, then tossed the now quiet perpetrator across his shoulder. “Sneaky bastard almost got away, didn’t he? I think we both need a vacation from this job.”
Ethan snorted. “Yeah. That’ll happen. Since Mordecai came to town and started turning out these mindless fools at an alarming rate, we’re in greater demand than ever. There seems to be no end to the number of these bloodsucking idiots we have to track down and capture. Why does he only turn humans who can’t find their asses with a flashlight? Is stupidity the only requirement for his recruits? If Alexander hadn’t pissed off Mordecai, and caused him to bring his grudge match to our quiet little mountain town, we’d be dozing in our coffins and watching reality TV right now.”
“Yeah,” Nelson laughed. “Fine way to talk about your lord and master. Alexander’s OK. He’s just got a little bit of an anger-control problem. And Mordecai knows exactly how to push his buttons. But you know how it is with us vampires: one drama after another. Angst is our middle name. If we weren’t focused on Mordecai’s mindless minions, it would be something equally ridiculous. How else would we fill eternity? Speaking of dramas - what are you going to do with the delicious morsel our impolite friend intruded upon? You probably shouldn’t leave her here. We aren’t the only predators prowling the area.”
Ethan sighed and studied the woman. He had to admit she was quite delectable. In the forty years he’d been undead, he’d rarely paid more than passing attention to a mortal female. It was simply too dangerous to be around most humans. The bloodlust burned powerfully strong, and their fragile bodies were no match for his hunger. He didn’t have the age or ability to ignore the urge to suck them dry. Every time he’d been around humans he’d almost lost control of himself. Since he was still sensitive enough to be bothered by useless slaughter, he avoided temptation all together.
Of course, he had no problem drinking from the low-life drug dealers, criminals and paedophiles who unknowingly volunteered to become his nightly entrees. Their blood tasted just as sweet as any other, and he considered their executions to be acts of public service. He’d even become remarkably talented at disposing of the drained corpses, so he never broke the cardinal rule of vampirism: remain hidden at all costs. In his world, it was a true death sentence to betray the existence of the undead.
A slow smile spread his lips as he explored her body with his gaze. This one was lovely. When she’d stared up at him with her dark eyes, he’d had the odd notion that she was much older than she appeared. But, strange ideas aside, Nelson was right. He couldn’t just leave her as bait for the normal part of the animal kingdom.
“I’ll carry her up to her house, wipe her memory of having crossed paths with our repulsive friend, and give her the suggestion that she’d merely arrived home and gone to bed. Go ahead and take your package back to Alexander’s and dispose of him. I’ll join you shortly.”
Nelson smirked. “Why do you always get the good jobs?”
“Because I’m me and it sucks to be you,” Ethan laughed. Sucks to be all of us.
Ethan heard Nelson tromp off through the bushes with his passenger, and he squatted down next to the woman. The scent of her blood enticed him - the pulsing vein in her exposed neck caused his fangs to descend. As his usual feeding trance threatened to enthral him, he argued with himself about whether or not to act on his immediate needs or take her home. His primal brain insisted he could simply drain her and dispose of the body -nobody would be the wiser. He was so hungry. But something about her gave him pause. An intriguing element he didn’t want to destroy. In fact, the more he stared at her, the greater his curiosity about the pretty human. A faint voice in his head, a remnant of what he used to be, piped in to insist he wasn’t an animal. He made the decision, willing himself to lock the bloodlust away.
He scooped her into his arms, scanned the area to make sure there weren’t any other humans lurking about, and - satisfied they were alone - strode up the narrow path to the group of houses tucked away on the side of the mountain. It was pure luck, he thought, that nobody had heard the woman’s screams. But he moved quickly, just in case rescuers were on their way.
Her scent loomed strong around her house. He decided she must walk the path often in order for the aroma to be so pervasive. The house smelled of herbs, coffee, flowers — and her.
She lived in a two-storey Victorian, the sleeping area upstairs. He carried her up to her bedroom, used one hand to pull the covers back on the bed, and settled her onto the soft mattress. Then he straightened, surveyed the area with his preternatural vision, and smiled.
Her room was colourful and feminine. He strolled around the perimeter, studying the artwork, noting the musical instruments and appreciating the soft smells hovering around the unlit scented candles. On a table in the corner, covered with a vibrantly coloured cloth, lay a deck of tarot cards. He selected a card and laughed: the devil. How appropriate. The walls were adorned with photographs of the woman playing instruments in various settings, along with diplomas from well-known universities. He read one of the diplomas. Grace Blackburn. Her name is Grace. He paused in front of a framed newspaper article about the opening of her sound studio on the Pearl Street Mall a few years earlier. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she must be a musician.
I used to love music — a long time ago. In fact, I once hoped . . .
He immediately stomped on the useless thought, mentally crushing it like a nasty bug. Nothing would be gained by dwelling on the past. His existence had changed in the blink of an eye and he had to face reality. Anything else was too painful.
After exploring the human female’s room, he found himself strangely reluctant to leave. He tugged a wicker rocking chair from the corner to the side of her bed and sat, watching her sleep.
If she knew what was in her room, she’d run screaming.
Something about this mortal woman made him feel oddly peaceful. It was as if a relaxing energy emanated from her person - like her actual physical body gave off a pleasant hum. He imagined his skin warming from an invisible heat source. He leaned in closer. Here he was, sitting beside a sleeping human without drinking from her. What was wrong with him? Why didn’t he leave?
The expression on her face was sweet and innocent, like a child’s. He gazed down her curvy body and was reminded that she definitely qualified as a grown-up woman. Her beautiful blonde hair fanned out on the pillow, giving her an ethereal, other-worldly appearance. Ivory skin shone translucent and perfect. Full, soft-looking lips aroused his body. He wondered how they’d taste.