by Terry Spear
Table of Contents
The Vampire…In My Dreams
PUBLISHED BY:
Synopsis:
Also Available by Terry Spear:
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
About the Author
The Vampire…In My Dreams
Terry Spear
PUBLISHED BY:
Terry Spear
The Vampire…In My Dreams
(Vampire Chronicles: Book 1)
Copyright © 2007 by Terry Spear
Cover by Tell-Tale Cover Designs
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
Discover more about Terry Spear at:
http://www.terryspear.com/
Synopsis:
Proving a guy is a vampire for the glory it will bring seemed like a good idea to Marissa Lakeland. At the time. Until Dominic Vorchowski needs Marissa Lakeland's help to fight the vampire who made him the way he is. No problem. She's a witch. Witches can handle it. But vampires don't exist, and there's nothing in a witch's training that deals with a creature that doesn't exist. So using her wits, she'll manage, right? If the creature of the night doesn't get her first. As a centuries-old vamp, Lynetta doesn't lose ever, and she doesn't intend to now.
Yet, Marissa can't let the vamp have her way, not when Dominic's life depends on it. And so does her own.
Also Available by Terry Spear:
The World of Fae:
The Dark Fae
The Deadly Fae
The Winged Fae
The Ancient Fae
Dragon Fae
Hawk Fae
Phantom Fae, 2015
The World of Elf:
The Shadow Elf
The Darkland Elf (TBA)
Blood Moon Series:
Kiss of the Vampire
Bite of the Vampire, 2015
Demon Guardian Series:
The Trouble with Demons
Demon Trouble, Too
Demon Hunter (TBA)
Non-Series for Now:
Ghostly Liaisons
The Beast Within
Courtly Masquerade
Deidre's Secret
The Magic of Inherian:
The Scepter of Salvation
The Mage of Monrovia
Emerald Isle of Mists (TBA)
Dedication
To my daughter, Jennifer Fasano, who is my first reader on all of my young adult stories and encourages everything I do. I couldn't do it without her. Thanks, Jenn, for always being there for me, even when you're busy with schoolwork, at which time you give me a raised brow and incredulously say, “Don't tell me you want me to reread the whole changed manuscript, again?” But you always do. Thanks!
To her friend, Jaygen, who read the book also and loves vampires as much as we do!
To my mother who sells my books years in advance of their being published!
Chapter 1
MARISSA
Chasing one of the undead was not my idea of a good time.
“Hold up, Kate!”
I ran to catch up to her in the heavily wooded neighborhood where we lived. She’d be the death of both of us if the guy we stalked really was a vampire.
Ornate wrought iron streetlights cast a soft glow, coloring the mist a pale yellow, and an orange moon attempted to make its presence known, blurred behind the screen of light fog. Rustling eerily, fresh green leaves on the live oaks and ash lining the two-lane street danced in the breeze, casting shivering shadows, setting my nerves on edge. Crickets filled the night with their sing-song tune. Cool air clashed with the sun-warmed earth. Typical heart of Texas weather in early spring. The sweet fragrance of grape hyacinth teased the air, but something else drifted on the breeze, something manlier and spicier. Something that came from the direction we were headed.
Kate’s flaxen hair flowed behind her like she was a golden goddess. Her makeup perfect, her midnight blue spandex running clothes fitting her curves, she looked like a star no matter where she was or what she was doing. Whereas I chugged way behind her in my light-colored blue jeans and blouse, hoping that the perspiration trickling between my breasts didn’t begin to appear on the silk. The breeze tangled my long, blond hair, making me look like I’d been swept up by a tornado and spit back out. Everything about me paled in comparison to model-like Kate.
“Kate!” I implored, losing the race. Shin splints attacked my legs and a stitch ran up my left side, each shooting pain into my out-of-shape body. I felt like I needed to be hospitalized…and soon.
Thicker fog gobbled Kate up, crickets elevated their raucous tune, and an owl hooted somewhere nearby.
A shimmer of white vapor blanketed the inky void ahead like an opaque barrier and I felt that if I penetrated it, I’d be whisked into another world.
“Kate?” I no longer heard her size nine sneakers pounding the concrete sidewalk and my gut tightened with apprehension, but I tried to tell myself we were safe. That the guy we were chasing was not a vampire. That neither of us had anything to fear but what our own wild imaginations dug up.
Slowing my step, I attempted to catch my breath, the blood pounding in my ears. Adrenaline coursed through me like a river run amuck when a draft of cold air struck me from behind.
I couldn’t turn around to look. A whiff of subtle spice whirled around me like an invisible cloak. Was Kate still chasing after the unseen vampire, while he now stalked me instead? But they don’t exist, I hurriedly reminded myself.
Shoot. I hadn’t even wanted to find out whether he was a vampire or not. Well, maybe I was a little curious, but not enough to get bitten. Kate was the adventurer of the two of us, and bullheaded. Ever since she’d spied the guy at the corner all-night hamburger joint, she’d insisted he was a vampire. The black clothes he wore, the darkly amused look. A Goth, I had explained. But she wasn’t buying it. A vampire—that’s what she insisted he was, and we were going to prove their existence, once and for all.
I itched to turn around and see if he stood behind me. I know, I know, curiosity killed the cat. But I had to look. I told myself nothing was there, but what my overwrought imagination told me stood there—a seriously magnificent guy, seventeen or eighteen years old in appearance, but hundreds of years old in reality, outfitted with a pair of razor-sharp, sabertooth tiger fangs. That’s what I envisioned.
I turned and my jaw dropped. He was all there. All drop-dead gorgeous six feet of him. Darkly seductive, he wore ebony black jeans, matching sneakers, and a black T-shirt. I looked up at his face, hoping the fangs were still well-hidden and under control.
His deep brown eyes darkened to midnight and his lips curved up. I breathed a guarded sigh of relief to find no fangs extended. His dark brown hair showed off his square jaw and handsome angular features.
“Are you…are you…?” I wasn’t normally a stutterer, but the realization I was alone in the da
rk with a possible vampire sent a rack of shudders through me, at the same time wreaking havoc with my tongue.
“Dominic Vorchowsky,” he offered, and bowed his head slightly.
Definitely a vampiric action if I’d ever seen one. Suave, polite, enticing.
His voice had a strange melody, a strong, sensual attraction—just like I imagined vampires were supposed to have. His eyes gazed at mine with such intensity I wondered if he was attempting to draw me under his spell. He’d woo me, then bite me and make me his forever. The notion should have made me ill, but the look in his hungry eyes lured me to drink every bit of him in. No one had showed that much interest in me, ever. For an instant, I was ready to bare my throat and let him take me.
“And you are Marissa Lakeland.”
The way he said my name made it sound like his tongue rolled over each letter, every syllable, with undying affection. My heart skipped a beat. Vampires could control humans easily, so I’d read. I straightened my back. But I was a witch and he should have no power over me. So there.
I folded my arms. “Are you a…?” Suddenly my gray matter focused on the words he’d spoken. “How did you know my name?”
He waved his hand at the night sky with a gallant gesture. “It’s written in the stars.”
“Right.” Witches often used mumbo jumbo like that to confuse the general non-witch population, but he was no warlock. Or was he? “And why would my name be written in the stars?”
“We were destined to meet, you and I, on this very eve.” He sounded so sincere, not at all teasing, though I didn’t believe him for an instant.
“We make our own destiny,” I said matter-of-factly, tilting my chin up slightly, like I always did when I knew I was right or at least wanted to assure another person I knew I was right.
He took a step forward and the action forced chill bumps to erupt all over my arms. Luckily, the long-sleeved, silky blouse I wore sufficiently hid the physical reaction I had to his presence. I tilted my chin up even more, determined not to step away from him as much as I longed to do so. My witch’s training was far from complete and an ancient vampire, if that was what he was, would be vastly more powerful than me, wouldn’t he? At least from the fictionalized accounts I’d read, they were. Certainly, I had no desire to test my theory one way or the other.
Not that I was a coward or anything. But I never saw myself as being really stupid either. Except that I’d agreed to chase after sprinter Kate in the dead of the night trying to locate a vampire who now very likely stood before me.
My throat grew parched, both from running like a horse in a madcap race to the finish line, and from the sheer terror that threatened to undo me when I attempted to pose the question dangling from my dry tongue. Yet I still clung to the words, not sure I truly wanted to know the answer to the question that fought to be asked.
“Isn’t it a little late for you to be out at night?” he asked, ruining my chance at questioning him first.
“Trying to get in shape,” I fibbed. It wasn’t an out-and-out lie. I had considered running to get in shape. But between playing video games, doing homework, reading for fun and doing chores that were not, I could never manage a formal P.T. schedule. I blurted out, “Are you a—”
He raised a brow, stopping my question in mid-sentence. “Would you truly like to know the answer to your question?” His words dipped low and sounded awfully ominous.
A gentle nudging tugged at my mind, but he couldn’t read my thoughts. At least I didn’t think so…or maybe it was powerfully wishful thinking. Still, I figured with my being a witch, if I chose not to allow him to read my mind, he couldn’t. Yet, he seemed to know just what I was going to ask.
I hesitated. Was it a trick question? If he said he was a vampire, then would he have to kill me for revealing the truth? Or was it that he was concerned I’d be terrified when I knew the whole story?
Tamping down my normally cautious nature, I steeled my back, trying to make my five-foot-four height seem not so short. “Well, are you?”
He grinned. No fangs appeared. But then, maybe they had to extend, like when he smelled blood, or if he grew angry. As long as he was smiling, I figured it was a good sign. “Well?”
“You really don’t want to know the answer to that question.” Again, his voice held a menacing quality.
Sure I did. Didn’t I? Cold seeped into the marrow of my bones, and I wasn’t sure if I truly did want to know what he was.
Running footsteps sounded from the direction Kate had disappeared in, headed back in my direction. I turned and watched for her reappearance, glad to have backup. It sounded like she was running half her sprint-like speed now. How far had Kate gone before she realized the vampire no longer moved in front of her, or that I no longer followed behind?
“Marissa?” Kate called out anxiously.
“I’m here!” I remained standing next to my important catch—the Goth, or vampire, or whatever the guy was.
“What happened to you?” she called out from the fog.
I still couldn’t make out her form, but the guy behind me gave a dark chuckle. Ignoring him, I hollered back, “I couldn’t keep up with your long stride!”
“I lost him somewhere up ahead.” Kate suddenly stepped out of the curtain of mist, her hair disheveled but still just as sexy. No unsightly perspiration marred her perfect skin, nor did she appear out of breath like I had been, gasping for air like a half-dead fish out of water. “I was sure I kept seeing his cape fluttering in the breeze just ahead of me. But when I realized you weren’t behind me, I grew worried.”
Cape? He wasn’t wearing a cape. “Well, he’s right here.” Proud of my accomplishment for once, I motioned to Dominic, standing behind me.
Kate looked around me. “Right.”
I turned. Dominic was gone. Chill bumps freckled my skin again, and I took a deep breath, partly to calm my anxiety, and partly in exasperation that he would disappear and leave me behind to explain what had happened. “He was right here.”
I looked back at Kate, but skepticism was written all over her face. She’d been chasing after him all along as far as she was concerned. No way did she want to think I had been speaking with him while she attempted to run down a phantom.
Kate folded her arms and quirked a sculpted blond brow. “All right. So was he one or not?”
She believed me? Well, I wasn’t one to make up stories, good thing for me, so I guess that’s the reason she didn’t think I was doing so now. “He told me in so many words it wasn’t a good idea to know the answer to that question.”
Kate snorted, although the way she did it, she sounded classy. She was every guy’s heartthrob. In fact, I couldn’t understand why Dominic had left instead of engaging in a conversation with her. Her charming ways encouraged any guy to talk to her. Heck, if he had been leading us on a wild goose chase, why not visit with her in the cloak of fog up ahead, instead of coming back to see me?
“Right. So you didn’t pin him down on an answer.” Kate stalked back toward our street, but her voice definitely held a modicum of disbelief. I swore she muttered, “Like he was really there at all.”
Now that ticked me off. She didn’t believe me after all. I might not be as good at spells and concocting potions as she was, but I didn’t make up tales and she knew it. It wasn’t because I was Miss Perfect Goody Two-Shoes either, but the tips of my ears had a way of blushing when I fibbed, and everyone was aware of it.
“You don’t believe me?” I tried to keep my voice even, and the venom out of it, but the poison coated my words anyway. It wasn’t my idea to chase the…well, whatever he was, and it wasn’t my fault I couldn’t keep up with Kate. And it definitely wasn’t my fault he targeted me instead of her. Was it that he figured I’d be easier prey? Sure, Kate could sweet talk her way into or out of anything with a guy. Me? As of tonight, I just stuttered.
“I saw him ahead of me! Or at least his cape for a long time,” Kate challenged with a hot backward glance at me while
I tried to keep up.
The stitch in my side returned, and the shin splints hurt with every rushed step I took.
“They can just appear and disappear at random,” I glibly replied as if I knew all about them. At least that’s what the books of authority said on the subject of vampires. Though I didn’t believe Kate was correct in thinking she’d been chasing the vampire all that long since he’d been with me for a while.
“I suppose you didn’t do any of your tests on him either.”
My heart sank. No. Just being in Dominic’s mystifying presence had addled my brain, and I’d completely forgotten about the tests. But vampires were like the Loch Ness monster, Bigfoot, and the Abominable Snowman—unproven myths. Would our witch’s tests really verify Dominic was a vampire?
Boy, had I blown it this time. I could have been the first witch to prove that vampires truly existed in our world. I would be instantly famous and maybe a warlock would look my way for once. Yeah, Joshua Cantaleaver—dark-haired, dark-eyed, lips of sin. If I were famous, he would want me. I’d be the most popular girl in school. My teachers would look on me with respect and admiration. Even my parents would quit nagging at me about my average grades. Inwardly, I smiled. Dominic, you are going to make me famous.
I shook my head at Kate, whose sharp green eyes studied me, waiting for a response to her question. “No, I didn’t use any tests on him. I learned his name though.”
Kate rolled her eyes.
“Dominic. Dominic Vor…something ending in a ‘ski’.”
“Did he have fangs?”
“Not that he extended. But he had a mouthful of perfectly straight teeth. Beautiful smile.”
“You’re hopeless. Here we had a chance to identify our first vampire, and you blew it.”
At least she believed me now that I had spoken to him. However, somehow I didn’t think my chance meeting with Dominic was a one-time occurrence. In fact even now, the hair at the nape of my neck stood on end while I imagined he watched us from the dark. Waiting for what? To tell me the truth? To turn me into one of his own kind? To devour me alive upon our next meeting? Or was there some deeper meaning to our having met the way we did?
