NightFall: Book One: Bloodlust Is the Cure for the Immortal Soul

by Anastacia Kelley

  Simone could barely smile. She didn’t know if she wanted to continue to do stories on some loony tunes Mr. Hobbs about blood sucking creatures of the night. On the other hand, however, this could be all hers. She would be in charge, ergo, she would have her very own office because of the files she would have to keep on the subject. It seemed to Mr. Brant that as soon as this story of hers became hot off the presses, there wouldn’t be a newspaper left in sight. As Mr. Brant has said, she was an excellent storyteller and her creativeness hooked readers instantly.

  But she though this was going to be an open-and-shut piece. She now questioned on whether or not her bit would become some sort of occult classic. Would it become a supernatural thriller? Maybe the newspaper would invent a whole new section to the mysterious and odd and she would be in charge. Still, she was undecided. It did sound interesting but she needed time to think on it.

  “I tell you what.” Mr. Brant said, sitting back in his chair. “Let’s see how the first piece does. If it leaves our readers clamoring for more, would you seriously consider it?” He was hopeful. Simone could tell by the look in his eyes.

  “Yes. I’ll think about it after this piece is in print and let you know before I leave for Paris,” Simone vowed matter-of-factly.

  “Great!” Mr. Brant’s voice boomed throughout his office. He got up and shook Simone’s hand. “You won’t regret it.”

  Simone took his hand. She, however, wasn’t so sure.

  CHAPTER VI

  Simone put her carry-on in the overhead compartment. She and Indea decided to splurge and go first class. Simone always fancied the window seat. She liked looking out at the beautiful, billowy clouds and the wide open expanse of the blue sky. And today was no exception. It was perfect for flying.

  Indea loved the aisle seats. It gave her the perfect opportunity to flirt with the single young, attractive males.

  Not that Simone could blame her. She loved to chat up all kinds of people from all walks of life. Writer’s curiosity, she supposed. It helped keep her style fresh and new.

  As soon as the captain turned off the seat belt sign and told them to feel free to move about the cabin, a tall, thin stewardess wheeled her cart full of refreshments by.

  “What would you like to drink today, ladies?” she asked politely.

  “Two champagnes, please.” Indea looked at Simone and shrugged. “Why not? We’re celebrating a Paris trip.”

  Simone nodded as the stewardess poured champagne into two delicate looking flute glasses and handed them to the girls.

  Indea and Simone both thanked her. The woman smiled and wheeled her cart on down the aisle, repeating the greeting.

  Indea lifted her glass. “Here’s to Paris. May you find who you’re looking for.”

  “Hear, hear.” Simone took an appreciative sip, loving the way the bubbles tickled her nose. “Just the one glass, though. This stuff really goes to my head.”

  “You’re right,” Indea concurred. “We can’t have you out of your head, now can we?” she said teasingly.

  They downed the rest of the champagne and the stewardess came by to take their glasses.

  “So. Tell me about this article you did.” Indea wanted to know. “From what I’d heard, it sounds intriguing.”

  “Not to mention hilarious,” Simone added, not sounding the least bit amused.

  “Ahh. Do tell.”

  Simone twisted her body a little to face Indea. “Well, Mr. Brant got a call last week. It was confidential. Very hush-hush. So secret, in fact, that he wouldn’t even tell me the source.” She made a noise like she didn’t think too highly of that idea. “Any way, he called me in and asked me if I would do a supernatural story for Mr. Hobbs. I agreed to interview him. The kicker was that I had to do the whole thing outside in broad day light under the scorching sun.”

  “Weird,” Indea commented, brows wrinkled.

  “You don’t know the half of it.” Simone continued at a lower tone. “Turns out this Mr. Hobbs guy works for the quote unquote OVI, otherwise known as the Organization of Vampire Investigations–-“

  “What?!” Indea exclaimed a little too loudly.

  Simone quickly put her fingers to her lips. “Ssh-hh, Indea. I’ve kind of been on the down low about this.”

  Indea blushed slightly. “Oops. Sorry, Simone. But are you for real?” She lowered her own voice to a whisper. “OVI?” she asked incredulously.

  Simone rolled her eyes. “I know.” She patted Indea’s hand sympathetically. “That’s about the same reaction I had when Mr. Brant mentioned this to me and told me I was doing the story. What could I do? He was hard on about it. I couldn’t very well say no. He’s like a father to me.”

  “I know but-–” Indea mouthed the word, “––vampires?”

  “Seems that there are a whole lot of people out there who are interested in this. Turns out Mr. Brant asked me to do a monthly on the subject.” She didn’t look too excited at that. She looked down right cynical.

  Indea’s tone took on a sarcastic note. “Could you be any more enthusiastic about it? It sounds like a step up to me.” Indea tried her best to sound encouraging. Ever the optimist.

  Simone blew air through her bangs with a pouty lip. “Well, I gave Mr. Brant my answer. He wanted it before I left today.”

  Indea waited a bit impatiently. “Well?”

  “I said yes. I get my own name under every article and my very own office. I know the stories are going to be more than outlandish but Mr. Brant gave me full authority over this.”

  Indea smiled and hugged her best friend. “Oh, Simone. I think that’s absolutely marvelous.”

  “Thanks.” It was clear that that was all she wanted to talk about on this subject.

  Indea decided a change of subject was in order. “So, tell me. What exactly are you looking for in a French hottie?” Indea crossed her legs and put her elbow on her knee and a fist under her chin.

  Simone giggled. “Who are you? Dr. Ruth?”

  “Ah. I zee you are not answering my questions. Eez eet pozzible you are changing zee subject or avoiding eet?” Indea fought to keep a straight face. One look at Simone’s bewildered expression and she let out a whoop of laughter.

  “You’re a great friend, Indea. Knowing when I need a good laugh,” Simone said sincerely.

  Indea grabbed Simone’s hand and squeezed. “Ditto.”

  Simone let out a much needed breath of air. “A Frenchman, huh? Well, hmmm….tall. Alluring. Dark. Mysterious. Knows what he wants and how to get it and doesn’t let any one get in his way. Eyes so open and expressive you can see into his soul. Sexy, of course. A hard but ethical worker. Definitely knows how to talk to a woman. Treat a woman. Touch a woman. But, you know, with a French accent, he could talk about lunch meat and it would sound sexy.”

  Indea sighed. “Ahh. Amour.”

  “I don’t know if love would have anything to do with it.”

  “Lust, perhaps?” Indea wiggled her eyebrows.

  “Could be,” Simone conceded. She tried to stifle a jaw cracking yawn. It took over.

  “You work too hard.” Indea grabbed a pillow. “Here. Get some rest. We have hours before landing.”

  Simone stuffed the pillow and placed it under her head. “Is it that obvious?”

  Indea wrinkled her nose. “Just a smidge. Now, go to sleep,” she demanded motherly but softly as she arranged her own pillow.

  Simone smiled as she closed her eyes, thinking.

  It’s not very often in this messed up world that you can find a true friend like Indea. Simone didn’t care to make many friends. The minute you turned around, they’re ready to stab you in the back. At least with her few foes, they were open about how they felt. If she wasn’t speaking metaphorically, her so-called ‘friends’ would have eventually stabbed her to death. She couldn’t count the number of times some of her faux friends told lies about her or tried to belittle her. Nine times out of ten, it was because of a man. Jealousy really brought out the devil in s
ome people. How many times did she see the green-eyed monster looking pointedly at her? And for what? Why? It wasn’t worth all this aggravation.

  Simone had always considered herself a bit of a loner. Until, that is, she met Indea Sky. Indea was in a class by herself. Like Simone, Indea had a devil-may-care attitude and she was the nicest person anyone could ever hope to meet. Yeah, she could be brutally honest but that’s why Simone loved her. Indea never lied. She just never saw a need to deceive. They felt like long lost sisters, finding each other after all these years.

  Their friendship had been rock solid from day one. They stuck up for each other. Had each other’s backs, much to the maddening looks they got because of their strong bond. They were there for each other when a relationship didn’t pan out. They went on double dates, gone to parties, shopped and tried new restaurants together. They acted a lot like siblings but with a lot less squabbling.

  It’s such a shame to get older. To get to a point where they would barely remember each other’s names, much less their own.

  The final thought before Simone gave in to sleep was: too bad life wasn’t eternal. Then they could be friends forever.

  *

  Van knew she was on her way to Paris. He couldn’t stop the skip in his heart at the thought of finally getting close to her. He’s waited for what seemed like centuries and centuries. Saldivar knew of her visit as well because another was with her. There were two. They were friends which made it easier to do what needed to be done.

  Both nightwalkers were elated to meet these two extraordinary humans.

  The time had come.

  *

  The jarring of the plane as it touched down woke Simone with a start. She’d had the weirdest dream. Problem was, she couldn’t remember it. But the way it made her feel when she was jerked from slumber was vaguely peculiar. She hated when that happened. The fragments of the dream were just beyond reach. She had the feeling of the dream but not the picture. She always wanted to kick herself for not being able to recall a dream. It would come to her if she would just put it out of her mind. The minute she started concentrating on something else, she knew the dream would instantly pop up in her head without any labor on her part. But right now, she had Paris to explore.

  Simone and Indea made their way to Baggage Claim and found their luggage. With two weeks worth of clothes and necessities, they had to get a porter to haul it to Indea’s parent’s car waiting for them at pick up.

  Indea’s parents were outside waiting for them a few minutes later. The porter put the bags in the trunk and Indea’s father, Mr. Douglas Sky, tipped the man generously. The porter left with a huge grin on his face.

  “Pere. La Mere,” Indea said joyously, holding her arms out for a three-way hug. “How I’ve missed you.”

  “We have missed you and Simone very much, Indea,” Mrs. Fredrica Sky said with a watery smile, a few tears spilling on her cheeks. “Simone. Come and give me and Douglas a welcome hug. We are so happy that you decided to stay with us for a while.”

  “It’s been too long since I’ve seen you guys.” Simone embraced them.

  “Let us only pray to the Creator that this will be a regular habit from now on,” Mr. Sky scolded lightly with a smile that gave him away.

  “We will, Dad. Mom,” Indea vowed.

  “Absolutely,” Simone agreed.

  “Well, if we are all through here, how about some dinner?” suggested Mr. Sky.

  “That sounds great! I’m famished.” Indea opened the car door and got in.

  “You don’t have to ask me twice.” Simone followed after.

  With that, Douglas started the car and went to his and his wife’s favorite restaurant just ten miles away.

  *

  “How do you like my parents’ new home?” Indea asked once they were in Simone’s room, unpacking.

  Simone took in the vastness of the room. “It is breathtaking. It’s completely magnificent and charming.”

  Most of the home was done up in a Victorian style. Lace curtains. Antique armoires. A four poster bed with a canopy wrapped in a delicate white lace. Plush ivory carpeting that felt like velvet across your bare feet. Wooden frames showing off abstract paintings and Paris scenery. Handmade doilies were placed on the dresser to set off antique knick knacks and other worldly and precious items.

  Simone ran her hand across the tri-colored quilted bedspread that had an array of flowers sewn in. “I could really lose myself in this style. Very classy and sophisticated. I’ll sleep like a baby tonight.”

  “Good, because we’re going to wear ourselves out tonight while having a great time,” Indea ran to her room and quickly came back with a suitcase that looked bigger than she was.

  “Where are we going?” Simone wanted to know.

  Indea studied a black miniskirt. “Nope, I can’t tell. It’s a surprise.” She put the miniskirt against her waist. “How about this skirt?”

  “You know you’d look great in a potato sack.” Simone rummaged through Indea’s suitcase. “Mmm. This!” she exclaimed. She held up a beautiful dress. It was a black midnight dress that came just above the knees. It was adorned with swirling constellations, a profusion of diamond-like and sequined embroidery. It was opaquely lined with a transparent overlay and sparkling shoulder straps. With that, she added a rhinestone anklet and black Brocaded velvet shoes. For a necklace, she grabbed a sterling silver Karma necklace, a Labradorite ring and mini silver wind chime earrings with tiny black glass bead clappers.

  Indea clasped her hands. “Perfect. I’m getting ready as soon as I’ve washed away the stale smell of airplane off of me.”

  Simone rummaged through her suitcase and tossed Indea the herbal shampoo, conditioner and mousse. She started looking for her own perfect outfit.

  “Aha!” she said a few minutes later. Her red hair would mesh well with her Gossamer Garden green dress with its V neck and rippled mini pleats. Looking at its vibrant green color really made you feel like you are walking through a beautiful garden. It had embroidered tracing of cording, pearly beads and sequins, opaque green straps and a lettuce-edged lining. She added to it a pair of forest dragonfly earrings, lacquered in brass and suspended from accents of peridot. Being half Irish, after all, she got out a Celtic wish necklace. Hanging on a leatherette cord, was a pewter pendant with the etching of three wishes. Gaelic on one side; English on the other. In English, the wishes were: Love. Health. Happiness. Ashamed to admit it, Simone couldn’t quite pronounce the Gaelic vernacular. She should do her heritage proud and learn the language.

  She decided on wearing her emerald crystal Claddagh ring. This ring was handcrafted in Ireland. Its beautiful Swarovski heart-shaped cut crystal hued in emerald. It was set in two-toned sterling silver. She picked up her dark brown suede shoes with a buckled cross-strap design. The style was gorgeous but made her think of gnomes and leprechauns. Well, she had Irish blood, after all.

  Simone had had her shower earlier. Now, with a little gel combed through her hair, she tucked some big rollers in for volume. All she needed was to put on her face. She grabbed her make up bag and sat on the red velvet vanity facing the mirror.

  Forty-five minutes later, Simone was fully dressed, made up and was now fingering her soft voluptuous curls as a blow dryer on the coolest setting was drying ninety-five percent of her wet hair. She wanted the rest to air dry.

  Indea was putting on the final touches on her makeup, making sure her eyes looked smoky and sensual. The color made her almond eyes pop, even more so when she added a coat of midnight mascara. Simone opted for clear mascara and sparkling emerald green eye shadow. A light touch of red lipstick and a faint touch of blusher completed the final touches.

  Indea’s lipstick was the color of light cocoa which she topped with a clear coat of shimmering gloss. It made her lips look full and lustrous.

  They checked themselves in the mirror. Indea twirled around once, looking at herself at every angle. “I can’t wait! I feel so exuberant. Don’t you, Simon
e?”

  Indea’s zest for life was infectious. Simone held out her hand. “Let’s go have some fun.”

  They both elected to bring just enough money to have fun with, a small handbag, and a cell phone in case one of them wanted to call a taxi because they knew it wasn’t safe to drive. But Simone already opted not to drink tonight, but if Indea still wanted a taxi, Simone would ride with her.

  Simone always abided by the best friend’s cardinal rule: Go somewhere together. Leave together. Always watch each other’s back.

  But Simone would drive Indea if need be. She certainly wouldn’t leave her by herself. They could have all the fun they wanted but always safety first.

  And that saying went for a lot of things.

  *

  Thirty minutes later, Indea parked the car in front of the club aptly named ‘Club Paradox’. Simone’s heart started picking up its pace. She could hear the familiar trance music pulsing inside. She knew she was going to have a marvelous time.

  The club on the outside looked like an abandoned warehouse, one that was a storm away from collapsing. The doors’ rusty hinges creaked at every opening. From the outside, the club didn‘t look like the place to be. That is, until they stepped through its doors.

  They walked in and paid their cover charge then headed for the bar, taking in the multi-colored lights bouncing off the walls with amazing energy. A strobe light would pulse at certain parts of the music, keeping time with the beat. It made Simone’s feet itch to dance and mentioned this to Indea.

  “Sure. One drink and we’re on the dance floor.” Indea sat on a bar stool beside Simone. “It is absolutely gorgeous in here.” Indea gazed at the old world style and allurement. It had a subtle Goth feel to it but boasted of more than just the usual Goth colors. Reds and blacks. But, also, greens, blues and metallic colors. It was, yet, it wasn’t. She loved how the mood of the club made you think yes and no and maybe at the same time. It was a paradox.