“That’s Naomi’s date. She’ll be right out.”
“He’s usually such a gentleman; I don’t know why he’s being so rude. I better hurry. I’ll introduce you at another time.” Naomi gave Holland an apologetic look.
“It’s okay. Have fun, Naomi.”
Jamming the Ziploc bag filled with makeup inside her handbag, Naomi rushed out of Holland’s bedroom.
Through the living room window, Holland watched Naomi get in Ryan’s car—a silver Mercedes. Nice! Ryan seemed like a total jerk in Holland’s opinion. The way he was impatiently honking his horn did not give her a good first impression. But Naomi was happy, and for her friend’s sake, she hoped Ryan wasn’t as obnoxious as he seemed.
Slouched in a chair with one leg dangling over the arm of the chair, Jonas absently ran a finger over the strange markings on the sole of his foot. Clutching his ankle, he examined the scars. They didn’t seem as pronounced or as deeply etched into his skin. Was it wishful thinking or were the scars beginning to fade? And what did that mean? Would the evil spell break soon?
Zac was in another room, watching CNN. He enjoyed keeping abreast of current events. He learned modern expressions, educated himself, and had a better understanding of today’s world from watching TV in general.
Jonas was bored. Babysitting Zac was inconvenient, but a necessary measure to keep the vampire from getting close to Holland. Until her mother rescinded her invitation, Zac was free to visit the Manning household whenever the mood struck him. And Jonas was sticking to him like glue, making sure that he didn’t get anywhere near Holland.
Jonas had promised to call Holland, but he couldn’t. There was no privacy when Zac was awake. Not much escaped Zac, with his mind-reading abilities and his superior hearing and vision.
In an attempt to keep Zac from knowing his private thoughts about Holland, Jonas denied himself the pleasure of remembering the taste of her lips . . . her glorious scent. Instead of thinking about Holland, he focused on Haiti, recalling his mother’s face. Imagining her happiness when she received the money he’d sent. But he needed much more. Paying back the interest fees alone for his passage to America would cost well over a thousand dollars. And where would he get that kind of money?
Silent as a cat, Zac crept into the room and seemed to materialize next to the chair where Jonas sat.
Jonas flinched, startled by Zac’s sudden presence. “Why can’t you enter a room like a normal person?”
“I’m not a normal person.” Zac wore a sardonic smile. “I’ve been listening to your thoughts, and if you’re worried about money, we can barter some of my treasures in exchange for cash,” Zac said, responding to the question Jonas had posed in his mind.
“I didn’t ask for your help,” Jonas said with hostility.
“I’m not trying to rile you, fella. Just being helpful. There’re places that provide those kinds of services . . . I believe they’re called pawnshops. As you know, I have an excellent collection of jewelry . . . high quality diamonds, gold watches, and all sorts of precious gems. All locked in the safe.” Zac’s lips curved into a taunting smile.
“I was raised to be hardworking and honest; I can’t accept any more of your illegal acquisitions.”
“To each his own. Meanwhile, your family is being harassed by ruffians.”
“You may have extraordinary vision, but you can’t see all the way to Haiti; you don’t know how my family is doing. I sent them money, and I’m sure they’re fine!”
Zac smirked and narrowed his eyes. “I’ve been around a lot more years than you have, and I understand the nature of violent men. Those money lenders will use any means necessary to get payment—even forcibly take what they want from women.”
Outraged that Zac would even suggest that his mother would be violated, Jonas threw a punch at Zac, but ended up striking at the thin air.
Pulling a vampire trick, Zac avoided the blow by moving more rapidly than Jonas’s eyes could follow. With lightning-quick speed, Zac whizzed to the other side of the room and then he was suddenly standing behind Jonas. Jonas sprang to his feet. Intending to floor the pompous vampire, he threw a series of punches. Each one missed the target.
“Temper, temper,” Zac taunted, his voice coming from the dining room. And then in the blink of an eye he stood next to Jonas again. Jonas threw up his hands, ready to fight.
“Enough!” Zac shouted. “Face it . . . trying to keep up with me is a waste of energy,” he said in a softened tone. “Listen, the atmosphere is tense; I believe some fresh night air will lighten the mood. Care to join me in a drive?” Zac asked.
Breathing hard from anger and physical exertion, Jonas asked wearily, “Do I have a choice? If I don’t go with you, you might find an excuse to visit Holland’s mother,” Jonas said disgustedly.
“I gave you my word, so please stop harping on that subject. I have other donors, you know. By the way, Megan will be tapping on the door at eleven o’clock sharp. You’ve probably worked up an appetite with all that useless shadowboxing, so it’s perfectly understandable if you prefer to regain your strength by feeding on Megan.”
“You’re despicable,” Jonas groused. Slipping on his shoes, he trailed behind Zac and left the suite.
Zac’s car was an old model, but it ran like a dream. Riding shotgun, Jonas didn’t ask any questions when Zac steered in the direction of Burke’s Highway. If the crafty vampire had gone even a mile toward the vicinity of Holland’s neighborhood, her scent would have alerted Jonas, and he would have pounced on Zac before the vampire could whoosh out of the driver’s seat.
Remarkably, Zac kept his word. He drove into a lovely residential area. After parking in front of an attractive stone house on Meadowbrook Lane, he cut the engine.
Jonas looked left and right, questioningly. “Who lives here?”
“A generous donor,” Zac retorted. Zac began staring at the house with an unwavering, intense gaze. Jonas had seen that look in Zac’s eyes earlier when he’d mesmerized the hotel employee.
The front door opened and a vaguely familiar teenage boy emerged. Walking with no will of his own, the boy took slow steps toward the car. As he grew nearer, Jonas recognized him. It was the boy that Zac had attacked and overpowered inside the arcade. The boy didn’t look the same. His once tanned and glowing skin had turned sallow. He was so unhealthily skinny; his eyes were sunken in their sockets.
Jonas shrank back in shame. The boy was a shell of his former, athletic self. And Jonas had had a hand in negatively altering the young man’s future.
“You’re looking damn near drained,” Zac quipped when the boy approached the car. “I don’t even know if I should bother with you. You might not have enough blood in your veins to satisfy me.”
The boy stood rigidly next to car, waiting for Zac to give a command.
“Should I tap into your skimpy blood supply?” Zac asked sneeringly.
“Yes, I aim to please you, sir,” the teen said robotically.
Zac let out a joyous hoot and elbowed Jonas. “Did you hear that? He said he aims to please me. Now, that’s power, Jonas. That’s the kind of power you’ll never realize as long as you’re chasing after squirrels and possum.”
“Get in the car, Jarrett. There’s not much left of you, so tonight I might as well go ahead and drain you.” He nodded. “Yeah, you’re just skin and bones; it’s time to finish you off.”
Jonas stole a glance at the miserable teen. There had to be something he could to do to save him. “You’re not as smart as I thought,” Jonas said to Zac.
“Pardon me?” Offended, Zac scowled.
“Why kill off a willing provider? Let the boy rest for about a month—give him a chance to gain some weight and let his blood supply replenish.”
“Hmm. Now you’re using your noggin, Jonas.” Zac smiled briefly, and then looked off in thought. “Your suggestion will appease my future hunger, but what am I supposed to do right now—pay Phoebe Manning a visit?”
“Absolutely n
ot!” Jonas said in fury.
“Well, I have to feed and I can’t wait until Megan comes to see me at eleven o’clock.” Zac turned and gazed at Jarrett in the back seat. “Where’s that girl you’re always cuddled up with?”
“Chaela, sir?”
“Is that your sweetheart’s name?”
“Yes.”
“Well, where is she?”
“At home, I guess. Or maybe out with her friends.”
“Give her a call on that talking piece of yours,” Zac instructed.
Zac promptly slid his phone out of his pocket and called Chaela. “She’s not picking up,” he said without expression.
“She’s sneaking around on you, boy,” Zac said snidely, trying to get a rise out of Jarrett.
Jarrett merely nodded.
“Don’t you want to get even with that lowdown cheat?”
“It doesn’t matter much,” Jarrett replied in a monotonous, droning tone of voice.
“It should matter!” Zac declared, indignant. “I know you’re sickly and all, but that ain’t no reason to let a woman walk all over you.” He glowered at the boy, but Jarrett didn’t change his blank expression.
“We’re taking a ride to Chaela’s house. I’ll deal with that no-good, floozy. Point the way, Jarrett.” Zac shifted out of the parking gear.
Sounding more like a computer-generated voice on a GPS navigation system than a human being, Jarrett provided precise directions to Chaela’s house.
Feeling powerless, Jonas slumped in his seat. His helpful tip had backfired, and now Zac was going after a new victim.
CHAPTER 29
He’d promised to call, but it was after nine and she still hadn’t heard from him. Holland had tried to distract herself by watching a slew of reality shows, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad had happened to Jonas. Her state of panic rose as her thoughts raced, Where could he be, and why doesn’t he call me? Is he in trouble? She thought about calling the police, but what could she tell them? Her concerns would be dismissed as a crank call if she expressed her fear that Jonas was in the clutches of a vampire.
By ten-thirty, Holland was certain that Zac had turned on Jonas and had sucked the life out of him. Sitting up in bed and twisting the coverlet in her hands, Holland was now close to tears. All her fretting and imagining that the worst had happened was a waste of time. She needed to do something. Maybe her mom could offer some advice. Holland knocked and then peeked inside her mother’s bedroom. She let out a sigh of frustration. Her mother hardly ever went to bed this early, but she was dead to the world.
Forlorn, Holland trekked back to her room and plopped down on her bed. Eyeing her phone, she tried to will it to ring. Call me, Jonas; I’m so worried.
Suddenly her phone buzzed, and Holland grabbed it with shaky hands. When she checked the screen, disappointment washed over her. No message from Jonas; it was a text from Naomi. “Super big news! Be over in ten minutes, okay?”
Holland texted back, “Okay,” but her heart wasn’t in it.
Naomi’s life was finally in a good place, and Holland was thrilled for her friend, but she wasn’t in the mood for another discussion about Naomi’s budding love affair. Holland was far too worried about Jonas to put on a happy face. She mulled it over briefly, and decided that tonight simply wasn’t a good time for a visit.
The doorbell chimed before Holland had a chance to tell Naomi that she’d changed her mind. Not wanting the sound of the doorbell to wake her mother, Holland hurried through the darkened living room. Without stopping to turn on a light, she rushed straight to the front door. Snatching it open, she expected to find Naomi standing in the doorframe, but there wasn’t a soul in sight.
“Naomi?” Holland murmured, poking her head outside, looking around for her friend. “Naomi!” Holland called again in a sharper voice, and then stepped out on the porch. “Stop being silly! You’re too old to play doorbell Dixie.”
Where’d she go? Holland wondered fearfully. Was that bloodsucker, Zac, hanging outside of her door? Had he snatched Naomi?
Holland felt a stab of fear. Shadows cast by bushes and trees seemed to loom ominously. “Seriously, Naomi . . . I’m not in the mood for stupid pranks. You’d better get inside before I call it a night and put the bolt on the door.” Holland tried to sound tough, but her voice trembled. She cast her gaze in the direction of the hedges, but Naomi was nowhere to be found. This is sooo creepy.
A sudden rush of cold air whisked past Holland as she turned to go inside. Peering around uneasily, she gave the front yard one last glance, and then closed the door and locked it. Intending to send Naomi a harsh text, Holland moved through the dark living room, carefully avoiding bumping into furniture as she headed for her bedroom.
“Hey, Holland.” Inside the darkness of Holland’s living room, Naomi’s singsong voice emerged out of nowhere.
Holland gasped. Her hand flew to her chest. “Oh, shit! Ohmigod, Naomi. You scared the crap of me. Where were you? How’d you get in here?”
Naomi laughed. “I scooted in while you were looking in the other direction. Just kidding around—pulling a prank.”
“Some prank! You nearly scared me out of my wits.” In the dark, Holland edged her way toward the floor lamp.
“No lights,” Naomi said in a stern tone.
“What do you mean, no lights? You’re being weird.” Holland inched closer to the lamp and reached out, her hand waving around searching for the switch beneath the lampshade.
“Leave it off!” Naomi insisted, her voice cold and menacing.
“Screw you!” Holland retorted and twisted the knob, filling the room with bright light.
One look at Naomi and Holland’s legs nearly gave out. Naomi was lounging comfortably on the sofa with an arm outstretched in a glamour pose. But there was nothing glamorous about Naomi. Beneath her badly smeared makeup, her complexion was deathly white. Two grotesque puncture marks decorated her throat and the front of her top was caked with drying blood.
Naomi stood up. Drawing her lips back in a macabre smile, she flashed a set of fangs that dripped saliva.
“Ohmigod, you got bitten! Oh, Naomi . . . I should have warned you about the vampires.”
Grinning demonically, Naomi took steps toward Holland.
“Stay away from me, Naomi,” Holland said, her voice quaking with fear.
Naomi laughed mockingly. Her laughter was a coarse and hollow sound. “There’s no reason to be afraid, Holland. The change doesn’t hurt at all. Ryan was really gentle with me,” she said dreamily.
“Ryan did this to you?” Holland said shrilly. Realizing that Ryan was part of the swarm, Holland felt a chill rippling through her. Goose bumps rose on her arms and the back of her neck.
Naomi nodded, a semblance of a smile curving one corner of her mouth. She stared at Holland, and Holland felt instantly drawn into Naomi’s hypnotic gaze.
“We’ve been best friends our whole lives, and I don’t want that to change,” Naomi said in hypnotizing voice. “I was afraid that going to different schools would put a strain on our friendship, but now we don’t have to worry about that, do we? Now we can be best friends forever—literally.”
“Oh, no we can’t,” Holland screamed in her mind, but she nodded dumbly as Naomi glided closer. Holland tried to cry out for her mother, but she couldn’t utter a sound. She struggled to move, to run for her life, but for some inexplicable reason, she stood transfixed and immobilized, listening to Naomi making plans for them to be BFF’s throughout eternity.
Naomi sniffed deeply. “You smell wonderful, Holland. Delicious in fact. I wish Ryan could experience this with me, but he said I had to learn to hunt on my own. You should be honored that I chose you to be the first of my line.”
Naomi’s reasoning was totally skewed and irrational, and Holland cautiously backed away from her. With a determined look in her eyes, Naomi advanced toward Holland. When Holland felt Naomi’s cold powerful fingers wrap around her wrist, she shrieked a
s loudly as if she’d been burned.
“Holland, what’s wrong? What’s going on, hon?” Phoebe called out, awakened by her daughter’s sound of distress. Immediately, there was the sound of her slippers, swiftly slapping against the hardwood floor. When she reached the living room, she let out a blood-curdling scream, and then covered her mouth, gawking at Naomi in utter disbelief.
Held in Naomi’s icy grasp, Holland shivered noticeably. “Naomi’s been turned,” Holland whimpered tearfully.
“Turned into what?” Phoebe shrieked, her eyes shifting from Holland’s terrified face to the pale hand that was clasped tightly around her daughter’s wrist.
“She’s been bitten. Naomi’s a vampire, Mom.” Twisting her wrist, Holland tried to wrench free, but Naomi tightened her grasp.
Naomi glowered at Holland’s mother. Furious over the interference, she threw her head back and let out a growl, snarling like an animal that instinctually snaps and bites anything that tries to separate it from its food.
“Let her go, Naomi. Please!” Holland’s mother tearfully pleaded, her arms held out for Holland.
Outraged, Naomi shrieked. The sound was ghastly. Inhuman. “Holland has to be with me; she’s my best friend!” Naomi wailed, her voice at an unnaturally high pitch.
Naomi suddenly released Holland. Her eyes blazing with hatred, she shot across the across the room with uncanny speed. Exhibiting unusual strength, she lifted Holland’s mother off of the floor, with one hand wrapped around her neck. Holland’s mother gurgled and tried to scream, but the sound was cut off.
Running at full speed, Holland plowed into Naomi, but her friend didn’t budge. With a look of distaste, Naomi tossed Holland’s mother aside as if she were a rotting sack of potatoes.
Phoebe Manning lay crumpled on the floor, unconscious, and unable to protect her daughter from the soulless fiend who’d invaded their home.
“Be with me, Holland,” Naomi appealed desperately. “I need you.” Her cold hands cupped Holland’s face and once again, she mesmerized Holland with her penetrating gaze. “Ryan has lots of friends. You can get a new boyfriend—one who’ll never leave you. Let’s do this—together. Immortality is better than normal life. Come on, it’ll be so much fun.”
Midnight Cravings Page 18
