The Scene (Dylan Hart Odyssey of the Occult Series)

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The Scene (Dylan Hart Odyssey of the Occult Series) Page 29

by Gilmore, R. M.


  “Hey, you alive?” he asked her.

  “I’m not dead if that’s what you’re asking.” She looked at him as if he was the village idiot.

  “I think he’s asking if you’re a vampire,” I said. She laughed loudly and walked past him up the stairs. “Can you call the police now?” Having about enough of this shit I made my way up the stairs.

  Mike helped me walk Cyrus out the front door and away from the dead vampires. The four of us waited out front of Midnights Dream for the police to arrive. Tatum was naked wrapped in a sheet. Black bruises were beginning to form on Mike’s neck. Cyrus had been shot: by me. I had killed two vampires. It had been a hell of a night. I felt like I was in college again.

  “I killed two people tonight, guys.” I said as I lit a smoke. Still covered with the blood of at least eight dead women. And one dead vampire.

  “Well, technically you staked two vampires.” This from Mike.

  “This is true. If we were in a TV show, they would’ve poofed into dust, and we’d have no bodies to explain. Damn reality.” I laughed through the smoke in my mouth at my witty sarcasm.

  “You shot that guy, Dylan. In the fucking chest. And he springs from the floor like, well, like a damned vampire and throws you two down a flight of stairs. You shoved a piece of broken wood through his chest and only then does he die. You don’t find that a little odd?”

  “It was a fucking stake through the heart, Michael. That would kill anyone. I had to dig that piece of wood around in his chest cavity to finalize the deal. I probably just missed the mark the first time around.” The three of them were staring a hole though me. “What?”

  “Did one of them bite you?” Tatum asked.

  “Oh shit, yeah. I forgot. He tore into me pretty good. Yeah, get this shit; they thought I was a vampire slayer tracking them to kill them off.” I was laughing; they weren’t. “And they thought I killed Regina.”

  “So they didn’t do it?” Mike asked.

  “Nope. Confessed to the others though; acted like I should have known all along. Looks like you have another homicide on your hands detective. And we still don’t know who took Reggie’s head,” I said, mind and body in the beginnings of shock.

  “Dylan, was that the same Philippe you interviewed in the very beginning?” Tatum looked at me.

  “Yes.” I was feeling a little sheepish.

  “Holy shit. You knew that guy?” Mike was frustrated.

  “Well, yeah. But how was I supposed to know he was killing people. Shit, I knew Sam too. So did Cyrus. There was no way in hell I could know he’d drained eight girls of their blood.” The three of them stared at me. Naked Tatum, bruised Mike, and bleeding Cyrus. Fucking sideshow freaks. “Philippe seemed like a douche. Told me he was two hundred something years old. He wore a fucking cape for crying out loud.” They may be freaks, but I was still the idiot covered in blood.

  “He could have killed you then. He could have dragged you into that basement and did his thing with you,” Mike said passionately.

  Thank you, captain obvious.

  “No. They didn’t want to drain her.” Everyone was staring at Tatum now. “Said a slayer had to be burned. That fat guy, Sam, he said he wanted to taste a slayer. But the skinny one wasn’t having any of it. They planned to burn your body on the train tracks. They were planning on draining me though.” She said this matter-of-factly.

  “How’d they get you here in the first place?” My curiosity had been eating me alive.

  “I was home, just before dawn. I had just gotten out of the shower. I came out of my bathroom and got rushed from behind. I elbowed the guy in the gut and went for my knife. When I turned to use it, there were two of them. One jumped on the bed and tackled me. They stuck me with a needle and I was out. I woke up here when he was lifting the sheet. I figured playing dead was the best idea. So I did. And we all lived.” She smiled smugly.

  “Apparently, I’d been played for a fool by all three of those fucks. Sam was a big teddy bear. He was sweet and innocent and bullshitted me every step of the way. And Diego, played off being a Craigslist vampire freak, like he was going for an Oscar. Regina looked me in the eye on more than one occasion and lied to me. She pointed out three innocent dorks and blamed them for the murders of then seven women. I was a fucking idiot. And now, because of me, Cyrus has been shot. Tatum is standing there naked.” She shrugged like it didn’t faze her. “Mike was nearly choked out. I killed two people. Got my ass bit. And I’m sticky with various types of blood.” I huffed with frustration. Everyone was quiet for a few moments.

  “So, do you think you’ll turn into a vampire now?” Mike piped in. He was pushing me to the point of no return.

  “Jesus Mike, there are no fucking vampires!” I screamed in frustrated denial.

  “Tell the two dead guys in there with stakes sticking out of their chests that.” Tatum added her two cents.

  “You should really remove the head.” Cyrus spoke for the first time from his spot on the filthy sidewalk. All three heads turned to look at him. “The best things to remember about vampires are the two H’s. Head and heart. If you don’t nip the head, all you get is a pissed off vampire.”

  Tatum, Mike and I stared at the Persian on the ground while the sirens wailed into earshot. There was a part of me that wanted to scream at them that there are no such things as vampires. The other was resisting the compulsion to charge back in there and hack their heads off. The deciding factor was which impulse was stronger.

  Two corpses are hard enough to explain. Try explaining why they have no heads. It’s not as easy as it sounds.

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  Other Titles By R.M. Gilmore

  Dylan Hart: Odyssey of The Occult Series

  The Scene – Available now in digital and paperback formats.

  Endless Night - Available now in digit and paperback formats. Read now!

  Sacrifice – Coming 2013

  Lynnie Russell Trilogy

  Becoming – Available now in digital and paperback formats. Read an excerpt.

  Existence – Coming 2013

  Apocalypse: An Anthology (Contributor)

  Welcome to the End of the World – Available now in digital

  and paperback formats through Cynthia Shepp Editing Publications. Read an excerpt

  Endless Night

  Dylan Hart Odyssey of The Occult book two

  It always feels awkward being in Mike’s house. Standing in his living room, looking at pictures of us hanging on every wall, posted on every surface. It was weird to think he walked around in this house everyday with my face staring at him from every angle. I always wondered why he never took them down. I’d hung most of them there when we moved in and I left them right where they hung the day I walked out. Apparently, so did he.

  “You never know.” Mike said from the bathroom.

  I looked in the direction of his voice to see a sliver of light around the door jamb; he hadn’t bothered closing the door. I have to admit, it felt very natural talking to him through a crack in the bathroom door. Like nothing had ever changed. I leaned against the edge of the couch just down the hall from the bathroom and listened to the water running in the shower.

  “Never know what?” I asked loud enough he could hear me over the running water.

  Small wafts of steam puffed out from the opening in the door and with it the smell of his soap. I hadn’t had the pleasure of that smell in a long time. I closed my eyes and breathed in deep.

  “The truth.” He said just after he turned the water off.

  I could hear him moving around the small room. Clanking his toothbrush in the cup, opening and closing the medicine cabinet, all the little mundane tasks we take for granted every day. Those little sounds of daily life pulled me back into a time I thought I’d almost forgotten. A time I was in love. A time I was safe and happy. A time I could never get back.

  “And you do? Does anyone ever
really know what’s real?” I asked, looking at a picture of the two of us that hung on the wall only inches from my head. We looked so happy. Big smiling faces and bright eyes.

  “Not usually, no. But you could, if you wanted to.” His voice came much clearer than it had before. I looked away from our shining faces to see Mike emerge from the bathroom, shower wet and towel clad.

  He never met my eyes when he turned from the bathroom and walked away from me. The expanse of his thick shoulders lay totally exposed and the deep indent that trailed from between his shoulder blades to the small of his back shifted and moved with every step. I hadn’t forgotten what his body looked like, I just hadn’t thought about it in a while. An unconscious smirk and tweak of my brow reminded me of every moment I’d laid eyes on the better half of that man. Mike walked the short space between the bathroom and his bedroom door wearing only a small stark white towel around his waist. He seemed to not care a lick that I was in perfect eyeshot of his half-naked body. There was a part of me that was quite pleased with the situation. Then there was a part of me, the logical part, which said there is no way in hell this is ever going to happen. I happily ignored that part and enjoyed the view.

  A few steps before he reached the privacy of his room, he pulled the towel from around his waist and brought it up to dry his wet hair. In that tiny second I caught a lovely glimpse of the back side I’d been missing for damn near two years. Two dimples sat just above his nicely round cheeks and just below the curve of his back. My throat made a small noise before I caught it and moved on. The sight of something so long missed can wreak havoc on your psyche and that was the last damn thing I needed.

  “What is it that you want?” I wasn’t sure where he was going with this conversation. And seeing all that he had to offer, well, not all, but a lot, made me forget why I was standing in his living room in the first place.

  “The same thing you do.” He came out of his room and walked down the hall toward me. He’d put on pants but not much else. His hair was still wet and messy from the shower.

  He stopped a few feet from me, but I could still smell his soap. I tried hard not to look at the expanse of his chest and shoulders. He wasn’t a chiseled master piece, not even close. But he had the look of someone who could scoop you up in their arms and carry you to safety. Not that he’d ever tried to pick my fat ass up, but you get the idea. I tried to look him straight in the face as I had always been able to do, but all I could think about were those two little divots just above his ass. I my eyes jerked away and moved down his body more and caught at eyeful of the line of hair that led from the top of his jeans to his belly button.

  Holy moly.

  My breath caught in my throat, but I managed to squeak out, “What is it you think I want?” I decided looking at his face was probably the best idea.

  He smiled and stepped closer. I like his smile. It makes his eyes crinkle on the sides. Standing this close to Mike felt as natural as putting my shoes on, but I knew it wasn’t right. I knew there was no way this was a good thing. He was acting like nothing has changed. Like we were still…us.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” He said looking down at me from his six foot three stature.

  I just shook my head. I had no idea what to say. He’d never put me in this position before. Not in a long time had he been so…naked. I’d thought for so long it was completely over. That I was done with it. With us. I’d come to terms with it and moved on. My tenacity was the only reason we were able to stay some kind of friends.

  He carried a look on his face that I hadn’t seen in so long. He looked like he was seeing straight into me. Like he was planning every moment with me from here on out. Like he’d never leave me. He’d die for me.

  The muscles in his chest flexed and his hand came up and wrapped around the base of my neck. My heart literally stopped beating. I watched his face intently looking for some kind of motive. Waiting for the truth to rear its ugly head.

  “When you run, I’m here.” He said confidently, as if it wasn’t a seriously weird thing to say. “Believe in nothing you can’t reach out and touch.”

  Out of sheer compulsion, I reached out and touched his chest then. He was warm and solid.

  “I love you, Dylan Hart.” His mouth said those words without hesitation, without an ounce of regret. He crooked his head and leaned down toward me then. The smell of his soap so strong I thought I’d climbed inside of him. Drops of water fell from his wet hair onto my face and trickled down my cheek like tears. Maybe they were. I didn’t care. I waited, ready, for him to kiss me. Wanting to remember so terribly what those kisses felt like and waiting for him to remind me.

  I could feel the heat from his breathe touch my mouth. My breathing was heavy and my heart was pounding from my chest. I lifted myself up onto my tiptoes eagerly forcing my lips to meet his.

  Stay Tuned at WWW.RMGilmoreAuthor.com for release information!

  Becoming

  Lynnie Russell Trilogy

  I woke up naked in the woods for the second time in two days. And like the morning before, I had blood on my hands. I looked around for a pile of bodies. There were none. The last thing I remembered was Garret chasing me through the woods. I couldn’t decide if that was better or worse. Was it better not to know who or what I maimed to have blood dried under my nails? If the alternative was having to know I’d killed my only brother, it was better not to know, even for just a little while. Living in denial is perfectly acceptable if it’s only to keep you sane.

  I told myself I’d killed an animal. Just an animal. My heart couldn’t accept anything more.

  I was sitting in the center of a ring of trees that I knew wasn’t too far from my trailer. I’d never liked that spot before. I’d always heard tales of evil fairies that lived in those trees. Sounds downright stupid now, but coming up in Havana you don’t get much exposure to anything but what your mama and your friends tell you. Damned old superstitions. That’s what you get when you have too many old women in one room for too long.

  I sat for a few minutes hoping memories would come back to me like they did before. Nothing happened. The last thing I remembered completely after I’d changed was watching Garret cry while he walked back to the house. After that it’s like someone turned off a light. There was nothing.

  After a little while of sitting in the dirt and watching the sun come up through the trees a started thinking how I’d make it home naked as a jaybird. Garret should be at work, I thought. Unless he was so worried about me that he’d stayed home. Or I’d killed him. No, I shook my head wildly at the thought. No, I told myself, no it’s just not possible. He’s fine. He went home wondering where the hell I went off to and that’s all. I told myself this over and over again until I believed it.

  “Lynnie?!” I damn near jumped out of my skin when I heard Hattie’s voice screaming in the woods. “Lynnie you out here?” She called out.

  Where’s Garret? I asked myself. Maybe he went off to work, I thought. I hoped. I prayed.

  I sat very still. I didn’t even breathe. I knew there would be questions. Most of them I couldn’t answer without giving myself up to the law. Or starting a damn witch hunt.

  “You see anything?” Garret asked her.

  Damn, I thought. Garret had stayed home from work. Then I thanked God he was alive, twice before I started worrying about what I did do. Lord knows what happened to me after Garret left me in the woods. Maybe I done something worse than kill Rusty. What if I sliced up some babies and puppies while I was that damn green dog and they were looking for the thing that done it?

  I hated myself then. I couldn’t imagine feeling any lower than I did sitting in the woods, naked, and wondering if I’d killed some babies.

  “Damn it, Lynnie!” Garret yelled out in a voice I knew was about to cry.

  I thought maybe I could tell him. He would help me. But then he would know what I done to Rusty. He’d never forgive me. I felt helpless and alone.

  Lord, I need you, I thought. Ple
ase help me. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna break my brother’s heart. Please help me. Please, Lord, please.

  I was crying again. But I was silent, only tears. I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face into my legs and waited for a miracle.

  Courage built in me. It started at my toes, moved up through my legs, into my heart, and on up to my head. I jumped to my feet and started running without looking. I ran on legs that didn’t feel like mine. My feet hit the ground so fast they nearly didn’t make a sound when they flapped onto the dirt and leaves. My heart beat like a drum in my chest. I never looked back. I ran until I could see my old doublewide through the trees. I ran right over the paw tracks I’d made the night before and leapt through the broken window.

  I collapsed on my bed the second my feet hit the mattress. I could hear Garret and Hattie talking far away in the woods behind the trailer. They didn’t see me. I had time. I left the comfort of my bed and grabbed some jeans and a T-shirt from my closet. I was pulling on my jeans while I ran out the front door. I’d gotten my keys from the table by the door before I let the screen door slam shut behind me.

  I didn’t know where I was going but I knew I couldn’t stay there.

  Buy It Now!

  Welcome to the End of the World

  Apocalypse: An Anthology

  It was a dark and stormy night.

  Well, it might’ve been. I actually had no idea. I’d been shut away in my basement for damn near a week. At least, I think so. Can’t really tell day or night when you’re stuck underground. Something in your body has a general idea about the passing of time, but there is no sure way to measure time when there is no power and no sun.

 

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