With his mouth turned down, Jonas’s unhappiness was apparent on his face.
“Why so glum?” Zac inquired.
“I’m not overjoyed at the idea of living inside a bleak, old factory.”
“It’s only temporary. We have to hide out until we learn the customs of today’s society.”
“I’m not from another era; I understand today’s customs,” Jonas stated tersely.
“But you won’t be able to fit in until you get used to your transformation.” Zac paused and gave Jonas a curious look. “Can you walk in the daylight?”
“Yes,” Jonas said emphatically. “How many times do I have to tell you . . . I’m not a vampire!”
“You live off blood, exactly as I do, so if you’re not a vampire . . . then what are you?”
“I don’t know!” Jonas yelled. He was furious with Zac for probing, and even more upset with himself. Zac seemed to revel in being a vampire, but Jonas was sickened over his monstrous transition. Yes, blood was the elixir that he needed to survive, but living flesh was also a necessary component of his revolting diet.
“There’s nothing supernatural about me,” Jonas declared. “I’m under a spell, and once it’s broken, I’ll be my old self. I’m sure of it,” Jonas muttered as he glanced around the unrelenting gloom of his new living quarters.
Zac gave Jonas a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “That bad mood of yours will improve after you feed. I reckon it’s time for us to go hunt up a nice, hearty meal for ourselves.”
CHAPTER 11
Quite the spectacle in their dirt-encrusted and ragged clothing, Jonas and Zac traveled undetected on back roads. Zac sauntered onward, seemingly unfazed by hunger, but Jonas was so famished he was beginning to feel half-crazed with the need to eat. With his senses on high alert, he sniffed the night air; his eyes swept the bushes and tall grass alongside the road, searching for sizeable living creatures.
A pair of halogen headlights suddenly lit the dirt road.
Zac stood in a confrontational pose with his hands fisted at his sides, as if ready to do battle with the pickup truck that was barreling toward them.
“We have to hide!” Jonas grabbed Zac by the wrist and pulled him down into a crouch in the tall grass beside the road.
The truck screeched to a halt. Waxed to a high gloss, the Chevy glistened in the moonlight. Loud music that pumped from the speakers rocked and vibrated the vehicle.
“What the hell was that?” said the driver, stretching his neck out of the window, scanning the darkness.
A shaky voice from the passenger’s seat said, “I don’t know . . . deer?”
“That wasn’t any deer,” the driver said suspiciously, looking around and squinting at the weeds.
“What was it then?” the passenger asked shakily.
“Looked like two hobos wandering around—and probably up to no good.”
“You’re hallucinating, man. Those were deer.”
“I know what I saw—bums! Drunken migrant workers.”
“So what? We’re pissy drunk our damn selves. We took this back road to avoid the cops, so keep driving, man. Let’s get out of here.”
“Nah, I wanna have some fun. Let’s interrogate those guys.”
“Interrogate ’em for what?”
“To shake ’em up and find out what they’ve been up to. Those migrant workers are all illegals; they don’t have any business roaming around at night,” the driver said in a slurred voice. “Grab the flashlight out of the glove box.”
“For what?”
“So we can find those thieving nomads.”
“Now they’re thieves? You’re weird, man. And your imagination is over the top.”
From their positions on the ground, Jonas and Zac could clearly see and hear the occupants of the truck. Two teenage boys. The driver was freckle-faced with a youthful, athletic build. The passenger was broad shouldered and had thick russet-colored hair that was styled in a layered cut, presenting a controlled tousled look that had been accomplished with styling gel and a number of hair products.
The night breeze stirred the tall grass, revealing a pair of glowing blue eyes.
“Shit! Did you see those eyes, man? Must be a couple of big cats.”
“I didn’t see shit. You’re freaking me out, though. Let’s get out of here.”
“Not until I investigate. I need my gun.” The driver reached over his friend and jerked the glove compartment open.
“What do you need a gun for?” the passenger asked in an incredulous voice.
With uncanny speed, Zac leapt from his hiding place and stood beside the driver’s door. He reached inside the truck, grabbing the stunned teenager by the throat.
Looking stricken, the passenger screamed for help and jiggled the door handle.
In awe of Zac’s audacity, Jonas watched in fascination, but when the passenger tumbled out of the truck, taking off in a stumbling run, Jonas instinctively gave chase.
Though not nearly as fast as Zac, Jonas surprised himself with his panther-like speed and agility. His feet barely touched the ground as he ran. In airborne pursuit, he launched himself at his prey, catching him by the back of his collar.
Held in Jonas’s tight grasp, the boy jerked and twisted. “Lemme go! What the hell is wrong with you?” the boy demanded in a terror-filled voice.
The smell of the boy’s fear was tantalizing. Out of his mind with hunger, Jonas did not battle with his conscience. At that moment, he felt no remorse. Surrendering to bestial impulses, he bared his teeth and drew the boy closer.
The back of the boy’s neck was greasy from a combination of sweat and hair pomade that had trickled down from his trendy hairstyle. Mouth wide open, Jonas had no qualms about biting into the uncommonly seasoned meat.
The boy’s ear-splitting scream mixed in with the loud music that blasted from the truck. Wanting privacy, Jonas dragged the kicking and screaming boy into nearby bushes. He cut a glance at Zac and noticed that he was still standing outside the truck.
Zac had pulled the driver’s upper body out of the open window. Clutching the driver by the shoulders, Zac seemed to be whispering in his ear. Then his mouth swept over the driver’s neck in a somewhat teasing and seductive manner. Oddly, the boy didn’t put up a struggle as Zac slowly and almost sensually began to drain him.
Turning his attention away from Zac, Jonas shoved the passenger. The boy swayed dizzily and then fell to the ground.
Injured from the bite and losing blood, the helpless boy’s face was pale with fear. Moaning pitifully, he made a futile attempt to scoot away from Jonas. He held up a defensive hand. “Please. You don’t have to do this. I have money—sixty bucks. It’s in my pocket. You can have it,” he pleaded in a croaking voice.
His desperate offering sounded like nothing more than white noise to Jonas. Growling and gritting his teeth, Jonas advanced. The boy screamed. Ignoring the boy’s plaintive wail, Jonas savagely ripped off his shirt, chomping through chest muscles and tendons, biting wherever flesh was visible. He chewed on a mouthful of flesh, muscle, and tendons, and then noisily slurped the boy’s blood.
Long after the boy’s agonized cries became silent, Jonas continued the bloody carnage, grunting as he feasted on the soft internal organs.
Covered in blood and a splattering of human tissue, Jonas gnawed at the skeletal remains, picking off miniscule bits of skin like a vulture.
Footsteps brought Jonas to awareness. “There’s not much left of him,” Zac said, frowning at the clumps of russet hair that clung to Jonas’s blood-caked shirt.
Jonas looked down at the remains of his victim. A deep and nauseating shame overcame him. “Oh, God. What have I done?”
“Looks like you filled up your belly,” Zac said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Jonas’s dirty clothes were splattered with his victim’s blood and innards, but there wasn’t a drop of blood on Zac’s mouth or the clothing that he’d been wearing since the 1800s.
Zac’s eyes had
become a more brilliant shade of blue, but aside from his enhanced eye color, there were no blood spatters on his clothing, and no outward signs that he had depleted the driver of every ounce of blood.
“Can you operate that . . . uh . . .” Zac paused and eyed the pickup, trying to come up with a word to describe it. “Do you know how that machine functions?”
“It’s a truck,” Jonas clarified. “Sure, I can drive.”
“Good. We have to get rid of the bodies.”
The driver’s corpse lay in a pile on the dirt road. Using unnervingly swift movements, Zac hefted the passenger’s carcass out of the bushes and dropped it in the back of the truck.
Guilt-ridden and filled with self-loathing, Jonas watched as Zac loaded the blood-drained boy next to his mangled victim.
Jonas got in the driver’s seat and gripped the steering wheel. With a grim expression, he looked over his shoulder at the dead boys lying side by side.
Jonas was an atrocity; he deserved to burn in hell for what he’d done. Tormented and filled with revulsion, he put the truck in gear. He stepped heavily on the gas pedal, sending the truck lurching forward.
He hadn’t been totally honest when he’d said he could drive. He’d taken a few lessons, but had never had an official license. By no means was he an experienced driver.
“Turn right at the end of the road. And try not to collide with any trees.” Zac sighed and propped his feet on a canvas bag on the floor mat of the passenger side. Curious, he picked it up and rummaged through it, slipping into his own pocket, a plastic bag filled with crudely shaped, white rocks.
“We’re in luck,” he told Jonas, holding up shirts, a pair of khakis, and a pair of jeans. “After we get cleaned up, we can get out the filthy rags we’re wearing and strut around in these snazzy garments.”
Jonas had no interest in the dead boys’ clothes. Wearing a haunted expression, he kept his eyes straight ahead as he bumbled at the wheel, swerving like a drunkard.
CHAPTER 12
Holding each boy by the scruff of his shirt collar, Zac dragged both teens to the edge of the river.
In the depths of despair, Jonas sat in the pickup contemplating suicide. According to legend, sunlight was like kryptonite to vampires. He wasn’t a vampire and he didn’t know which despicable and unnatural species he belonged to, but Jonas supposed that if he could get his hands on a gun and put a bullet in his head, he’d be able to once and for all put a permanent end to his miserable, so-called life.
After disposing of the bodies, Zac whistled merrily as he returned to the truck.
“Your belly’s full, so why so glum, fella?” he asked, noticing Jonas’s brooding disposition.
“You wouldn’t understand. You have no conscience. No soul.”
“And you do?”
“Yes, I still have a conscience! I feel horrible for what I did to that boy.”
“Then why’d you do it?”
“I’m possessed! Cursed! Forever damned!” Jonas ranted. “I can’t go on like this—this detestable spell has got to be broken.”
Zac’s eyes turned icy cold. “Face the facts—you’re no longer human. You kill for self-preservation.”
“But I feel human.”
Zac clapped Jonas on the back of his shoulder. “Cheer up, fella. Let’s get cleaned up and changed, so we can mingle with the mortals.”
“I’m too dangerous to mingle with people,” Jonas lamented.
“Sure, you can. You’ve already fed tonight; you should be satisfied for awhile.”
“How long is awhile?”
Zac shrugged. “If you’re anything like me, you should be able to go without feeding again until tomorrow night.”
“I’m nothing like you,” Jonas hissed. “I’m not a monster. I don’t take pleasure in killing. I . . . I’m sickened by what I did.”
“So you’ve said, and I’m getting sick of listening to you whimpering and whining. You have to accept what you are.”
“I don’t know what I am, so how can I accept it?” Jonas spat.
“You like the taste of living things,” Zac pointed out. “It seems disgusting now, but over time, you’ll feel different. Biting into a human will become as ordinary as biting into a tasty piece of chicken.”
Jonas grunted in disagreement.
“Meanwhile, if we plan to survive another night, we have to get out of these bloody shirts and britches. Come on, fella. Let’s clean ourselves up in the river and change into this modern wear,” Zac said with uncharacteristic warmth.
“How do I look?” Zac smiled confidently.
Jonas looked him over. With the dirt and blood washed away, Zac looked like a normal person. Dressed in faded jeans and a powder blue button-down shirt, he was the perfect image of a contemporary young man. His hair was long and wheat-colored. His skin was extremely pale, but his lack of pigmentation didn’t detract from his good looks.
“These dungaree britches are more comfortable than I thought they’d be, and I prefer my leather boots to these shoes made out of fabric and rubber.” Zac frowned down at the Nikes he’d retrieved from the canvas bag.
Jonas had changed into khakis, a striped pullover shirt, and black Puma running shoes. Bathed and dressed in clean clothes, Jonas felt refreshed. He wondered if he looked human.
“You look thoroughly modernized and completely human,” Zac responded.
Jonas gazed at him curiously. “Did you read my mind?”
“Sure did,” Zac said, grinning.
As if to guard his thoughts, Jonas covered his head with his hand. “Cut it out, man; that’s intrusive.”
“It’s one of the many benefits of being a vampire. I don’t read humans as clearly as I can an immortal’s mind, but I get the gist of their thoughts.” Zac glanced at Jonas. “What are your special traits?”
“I’m a lot stronger than I used to be. I can see in the dark, hear the faintest whisper, and track scents like a bloodhound. But aside from this sickening desire to slaughter innocent people, there’s nothing remarkable about me.”
“You can walk in the sunlight,” Zac reminded him with a wink.
“Thrilling,” Jonas muttered sarcastically and slouched against the truck.
Grinning, Zac stuck a hand in his back pocket and pulled out a wad of cash and waved it in Jonas’s face. “No sugar mill for us tonight. We can afford upper-class lodging for a few days.”
Jonas raised an eyebrow. He was so taken off-guard by the thick pile of currency, he stammered, “Wh— where’d you get all that money?”
“I rifled through the traveling bags and the pockets of those two boys before I ditched them in the river.”
Jonas pushed away from the truck and moved closer to Zac. “How much?” he asked, mentally counting along with the vampire as he sorted through the bills.
“I used to enjoy stacking twenty-dollar gold pieces, but this paper money will do just fine,” Zac said and began the count again. “We got ourselves two thousand and fifty dollars!” Letting out a cheerful whistle, he portioned off a slim section of the bills and handed it to Jonas. “This is your share.”
Too guilty to accept the blood money, Jonas inched away. “No thanks.” Imagining his family suffering and hungry at home, he felt doubly guilty for declining.
“Your family could use some financial help,” Zac said slyly.
Jonas sighed loudly. “You’re doing it again. Stay out of my head, man.”
“Imagine how much you can help your family with a portion of this money.”
“I don’t want it,” Jonas said stubbornly.
“Suit yourself.” Zac returned the money to his back pocket. He walked around to the driver’s side of the truck. “I’m driving,” he announced, and boldly pulled open the door.
“But you don’t know how to drive.”
“I catch on quick. I watched you and figured out how to operate this contraption.” Zac fired up the engine and put the truck in gear.
Not wanting to be left behind, Jon
as hopped in the passenger seat. He didn’t trust Zac and hated having to depend on him. But having nowhere to go, he was pretty much at the vampire’s mercy until the spell was broken.
Jonas wondered if Madame Collette, the woman that Captain Henri did business with, had any knowledge of removing hexes. From what he’d overheard, she didn’t seem like the type of person who’d reverse a spell from the kindness of her heart. She’d want American dollars.
“Nothing in life is free,” Zac quipped as if Jonas had spoken out loud and had asked his opinion.
Exasperated by the mental invasion, Jonas rolled his eyes skyward and then leaned his head against the seat rest. Attempting to protect his privacy, he tried to clear his mind of all thoughts.
As if he’d been driving for years, Zac expertly steered the truck down a back road. “Do you think she’s a witch?” he asked.
“Who?”
“The woman in Florida. The woman you believe can change you back to your mortal self.” Zac chuckled at the idea.
“It’s possible,” Jonas said with quiet hope.
“We could drive there in a few hours.”
“No, not in this truck.”
“Why not?”
“The authorities will be looking for those boys. They’ll have a description and the license plate number for this truck.”
“We’ll be out of town long before the sheriff can find us.”
Jonas shook his head. With a long sigh, he explained the high-tech modern world and how vehicles could be tracked by innumerable methods.
“Well, I guess if we don’t wanna get caught, we’d better get rid of this buggy,” Zac suggested and slammed on the brakes.
“Let’s walk, my friend.” He put a hand on Jonas’s shoulder. “We’ll get to Florida one way or another, but first we must find lodging,” he said, his voice deceptively soft and compassionate.
CHAPTER 13
After a few miles of gravelly roads, they came upon a backwoods tavern. Neon letters over the door read, “Tully’s Place.”
Zac slowed his steps as they approached the parking lot that was filled with cars, trucks, and minivans.
Midnight Cravings Page 7
