After Dark (The Vampire Next Door Book 2)

by Titus, Rose

  “I’ll be okay.”

  “No, drop on my couch, everyone else does.” Leon stayed in a small apartment on the top floor. “Everyone except Martin.”

  Alexandra stared up at the paint on the cracked white ceiling and sighed. Leon had already closed the curtains and was now turning the lights off. “Hey, I’d ask if I could get you anything, but I know there’s nothin’ I could get you.” It was a foolish thing to say, and he knew it. He wandered around the apartment in his white cotton shirt, faded jeans, and bare feet. He kept talking through the silence, as if to keep himself company. “Yeah, hey, you know, I was telling Rick the other night, I get almost jealous of you guys, like, when I’m forty, I’ll be fat, slow, stinky.”

  She sighed again, let her soft whispering breath out slowly.

  “Come on, you’re not still upset over him, are you?”

  “No,” she lied.

  He drifted slowly to her side, knelt by the couch. In the semi-darkness he watched as a tear drifted down the side of her dove white face. He gently brushed it away.

  “You’re so beautiful, if he only knew.”

  “I don’t care.” She sat up. “I don’t care anymore. Not about him.”

  “Then about what?” He gently pulled at the ends of her golden hair. “Somebody else?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “But he’s too young for me. I mean, I just don’t think it’s right.”

  “What if he doesn’t care about that? What if he’s always admired you from a distance?”

  Leon awakened on the floor. The skin on his throat felt of dried blood. He looked up, sunlight poured its golden light under the curtains, striping across the bare wooden floor.

  He remembered.

  He remembered melting into her warmth, then the freefall vortex of darkness as she fed from him. He fell back, flat on the floor, only aware of the sensation of her next to him, satisfying her never ending thirst. Only aware that he didn’t ever want her to stop. But she did stop, finally, though he was never aware of when. He remembered her hand falling off the couch, brushing against his throbbing wound, caressing his bloodied throat. Then there was silence as she slept, cold silence.

  He sat up weakly, then found his strength, looked at the reddened tips of her fingers, her bloodied lips. He pulled a pillow off the couch, the one that was by her feet, she would never know it was gone. He rested his head on it and slept the day.

  It was night again; he sat up, startled. There was a blanket over him. “I went to get you some food.”

  “What? You’re still here?”

  “Of course. I’m not going to leave you cold.” She flipped on a light. “You were right, who needs him.”

  “Turn it off.”

  “Don’t want it?” she shut it off.

  “I’m just so used to the dark now,” the suddenness of the light stung his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve gotten used to the dark.” He rested back on the floor. “It takes you down with it, pulls you in, swallows you up,” to leap into the darkness, and return to life.

  She laughed quietly. “I’ve got to go, I’ll tell them you might be late,” but she would not tell them why. “Oh Leon, what did we do?”

  It was a cool night, but it was warm in the truck. The three boys sat inside finishing the fried chicken. It was the only meal they had all day. “Sorry kids, like I told your friend Bruce, I don’t deliver pizza.”

  “Why not?” Jimmy demanded with a mouth full of food.

  “Because it stinks,” Rick climbed up on the front bumper, sat on the rusted hood of the old truck.

  “Huh?”

  “Because the closest pizza place stinks. It has this atmosphere about it. It’s the garlic. I don’t like the way it smells.” He looked down at the dark pavement, listened as Rufus sipped his coke.

  “So, you really don’t like that stuff?” Jimmy did all of the talking.

  “Don’t like anything that smells bad. Say, when was the last time you kids had a bath?”

  “This guy brought us into his hotel room few days ago, let us use his shower afterwards. We made some money that night too.”

  “Don’t give me no details, okay?”

  “But that was a few days ago, business has been slow. I dunno why. Hey, that’s a nice car.”

  “Thanks,” the Catalina was parked under the concrete bridge, beside the truck.

  “You got lotsa money?”

  “Jimmy, I do not hire kids for that kind of stuff, okay?”

  “No. I mean, just asking you, that’s all.”

  “Well, it’s not your business how much I’ve got,” which was probably much less than the kids believed he had. Again, he stared at the ground, at the truck’s long ago blown out tire, the smashed bottles on the pavement.

  “Hey, Rick?” Jimmy was extremely talkative that night.

  “Yeah?”

  “How come you even need a car?”

  “Come again?”

  “How come you got a car? I mean, like, can’t you just—”

  “What?”

  “Like, okay, we snuck into the cinema last month, right—”

  “No, I don’t fly, levitate, teleport, or whatever they call it. Besides, without this big car, how would I deliver all this fried chicken to all the street kids all night long?”

  Jimmy was disappointed. “Like, I just always wanted to see that.”

  “No, but if you’re that interested, it so happens that during the sixties, I knew of some hippies who could fly sometimes,” he said, matter-of-factly.

  “Yeah?” Jimmy wasn’t quite sure what he meant.

  “Oh, yeah, they could fly around the whole world, time travel, see the green people from Uranus.”

  “Huh?”

  “Come on, get serious, will you?”

  “You mean you really can’t?”

  “No, sorry.”

  One of the boys whispered something, and Rick heard most of it.

  “Charlie says—”

  “No, tell Charlie I really can’t do that either.”

  “Hey.”

  “Well, I can hear everything that goes on even when you try to be quiet, and I see in the dark, but that’s about it. Reality is pretty dull, isn’t it?”

  The boys were now silent, even Jimmy.

  “Look,” Rick started, “I believe you about the cops. I really do.”

  Still they remained silent.

  “Kids, there is a safe place to sleep, and eat. No strings attached, really.” He got down from the truck. “You know where it is. It’s still okay. Be here tomorrow, I’ll bring more food. And let me know if you hear anything else.” He left.

  Oh crap, they’re doing this again. Martin watched in disgust.

  “Once again, we are here with Zontar, Messenger from the Higher Realm,” Shauna faced the camera and spoke with an excited smile into her microphone. “And he is here to rescue our beautiful resort town from the dark forces of evil!”

  “Thank you, Shauna.” The tall man leaned to speak into the microphone. “There is a great deal of very, very negative energy surrounding this location.”

  The afternoon sun was hot, and Martin squinted to gaze at the strange sight. Zontar’s powder blue tights were worn close to the skin, and many women in the surrounding crowd stared. He also wore a white, loose fitting tunic, and again the heavy medallion. And most noticeable was his long, wavy, golden hair.

  Martin couldn’t stand anymore of it.

  “Somebody ought to just shoot this jackass,” whispered McMurphy from behind.

  “Huh? Oh, hey,” Martin mumbled quietly, “I didn’t see you.”

  “So!” McMurphy took a deep and deliberate breath, ready to change the subject. “Rumor is you’re still looking into things, unofficially.”

  “I dunno,” Martin didn’t want to talk about it. “Naw. Why bother? Lost cause, right? I’m just standing here, watching the show, like everybody else is.”

  “Yeah? Did you get much out of that strange broad?”

  “Broad?�
�� He didn’t completely understand.

  “Yeah, like, ’cause I heard you talkin’ to Stephanopoulos about it the other day.”

  Martin believed Joe was the only one left who probably did not think of him as a wash out or a useless drunk. And he was the only one Martin really talked to now. “Oh, you mean the girl who hangs out with—”

  “Yeah, her.”

  “Oh, she didn’t know much. Just hangs around because she likes that guy, that’s all.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. I know. A girl with strange tastes in men.”

  “She needs to be punished for that.”

  “McMurphy, don’t start. Okay?” He knew he shouldn’t have said anything.

  “Hanging around those freaks. I don’t like it, Martin.”

  “Hey, come on. Someone will hear you,” but it wasn’t likely. The crowd was focused on Zontar now. Martin knew that McMurphy just hated women in general. And he wondered what happened to Rhonda. Knowing McMurphy, he probably wasn’t too supportive.

  “She gotta be punished,” he hissed.

  “Hey, will you watch the stupid show and be quiet,” but Martin watched as the tall, heavily built man stalked silently away, down the alley behind the New Age Shoppe; he drifted into the shadows. Good riddance.

  Martin leaned against the building and tried to force himself to relax, he exhaled. The store he leaned against sold herbs, crystals, amulets, and other assorted fantasy items. He wondered who would buy such useless crap. Probably the followers of Zontar from the Higher Realm.

  He watched.

  The Higher Realm Being chanted softly with his eyes tightly closed, he held up a large piece of sharply pointed quartz crystal with both of his deeply tanned hands. It flashed in the afternoon sun. The audience looked on with mystified awe.

  Keisha felt relieved that they did not complain about Tirrell making noise, or just being in the house. He usually occupied himself with the dog, or watched television while eating chips. And that was where he was when she returned.

  He was sitting two feet away from the glare of the television screen, with the white poodle beside him, the sound of crunching snack food mixed with the sound of flying bullets, sirens, and explosions.

  “Tirrell, shut that crap off!”

  “Huh?”

  “Did you do your homework?”

  He didn’t answer. She sighed, put her heavy purse down on the table. “What am I going to do with you?” she wanted to scream, but held it in. She had returned from the home once again. This evening she found a dead cat on her driveway with a noose around its neck.

  “Tirrell, we are going to find a new place. An apartment, back in the old neighborhood, where Grandma lives.”

  “But Mom, we can’t have a dog.”

  “I know you want to have a house so you can have a dog of your own, but we just can’t go back there no more. We can’t. Now you do your homework. And shut off that TV. It’s not your TV.” She reached for the remote. The screen went dark.

  “I hate you!”

  “Yeah? I don’t care.” She went to the kitchen table to fetch his book bag. “They don’t want us in their nice pretty white neighborhood. Now you do your homework. And don’t talk back.”

  Rick noticed that Leon was quiet that evening. Alexandra sat at the bar, drink in hand, and she watched him, studying his every move. She didn’t speak. Perhaps she didn’t need to.

  And Leon seemed to be watching her as well, while he worked.

  Rick wondered about it, but he also would not speak of it. It would be better to let it just be.

  Lina was beside him earlier but she had left to run her store so Keisha could go home, where she was making her home now. He was alone. Soon he would go too, and open up the gallery.

  At night people walked the main street, visited restaurants, looked in shops. He usually sold at least two of his own paintings a week, plus work by many other local artists. In the summer he might once again teach art classes, only to keep away the boredom.

  The constant soft rhythm of conversation that surrounded him stopped suddenly. The silence caused him to look up. Everyone else was staring. There she was, slowly and carefully descending the stairs, moving weakly, as if she would faint.

  “Laura?” he whispered.

  At first, she didn’t seem to notice him. She appeared disoriented, fragile. She was shaking.

  “Laura?”

  He rose quickly to go to her.

  “Laura, look. I’m sorry, but,” you just cannot be here, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t get the words out. He felt himself wanting her to be there, beside him.

  “Someone was following me,” she sobbed breathlessly. “I don’t know who. I didn’t even know if you would be down here. I just wanted to hide, to get away.”

  The room was dimly lit, almost dark, yet it was warm. She felt safe. The chair she sat in was old, very broken in, her entire frame sunk into it. Rick dragged a small, sturdy wooden chair over to her side, sat down next to her. “You gonna be okay?”

  “I don’t know. Rick? Where is this place?”

  “Directly upstairs from where you came in, the top floor of our building. You’re safe here.”

  Leon entered the room from the darkened hallway. “Couldn’t find nothin’ out there.”

  “I am not imagining it,” she insisted. “He was following me.”

  “We believe you,” Rick answered quietly. “Just tell us what happened.”

  “I was walking over to the gallery, to see you. It was a nice night, so I didn’t drive. I should have. I walked by the alleyway, looked down in, just for curiosity, just to look in at the doorway. I know it’s silly of me, but it somehow seemed peaceful down there. I felt foolish, so I turned to go back to the street, but there was a man, standing there, blocking my way. There was a streetlight by the entrance to the alley, but it was behind him, so all I saw was this huge black silhouette, a shadow, hovering over me. I went cold inside. I felt so...” She buried her face in her hands. “I was terrified, and I had nowhere else to go.”

  “Was he real tall?” Leon asked suddenly.

  “Yes, he was extremely tall. When I think of it, I can imagine he was built like a gorilla. I know that sounds ridiculous, but he was huge. Something seemed so brutal about him, bestial.”

  “Did he speak to you?” Rick asked.

  “No.”

  Rick looked at Leon. “Sounds like our boy.”

  “What do you mean?” She struggled to compose herself.

  “That guy could be the one, the serial killer.”

  They did not wish for her to leave. She gradually drifted out of her dark void of fear, and she rose to return to her own home. But an elegant, dark haired woman stopped her. “No, you cannot go home all alone where there is such danger.”

  “But, I’ve no other place to stay.”

  “Yes you do, my dear,” she insisted. “Leon,” she called out to him as he came around from a darkened corner, “Have someone bring her some food.” Leon left to go down to the kitchen. “Now, you will come with me.”

  “I can’t. I don’t know anyone here, except Rick.”

  “Never mind that, come along,” and the woman’s thin pale hand reached to take hers. Laura was pulled along and Rick followed silently. “I don’t really think I should.”

  “Come, little one, there is no place safer than here, especially after dark.”

  She was led into a small but ornate dining room and brought a roast chicken, white wine, and several pastries. She reluctantly began to force herself to eat and then finally realized that she was actually hungry. Rick sat at the opposite end of the table. “You’re as safe as you can ever be here.”

  “I know, but I don’t know anyone else here. I don’t know any of them. I mean this whole entire complex seems to be filled with—”

  “Yes, I know,” he sighed.

  “Rick, why won’t she send me home?” She was growing apprehensive. Why did they want to keep her?


  “Laura,” Rick had to say it, “Look, some of us suspect the serial killer may be a cop.”

  “You mean you really think—?”

  “Yeah, and the cops know about you now. They might want to hurt you, because of me, because of us.”

  She stopped eating, stared at him vacantly. “They want to kill me?”

  “I hope not.”

  “I was just starting to want to live.” She picked slowly at dessert. “Want any of this?”

  “No.”

  She laughed weakly. “No, I don’t suppose you do. So, that’s it then, the police want to kill me. The only safety I have is this dark place.”

  “The darkness is a good place to be right now, Laura. Because you can hide in it.”

  Later she was given a room with only a bed, a night stand, no windows, one small table lamp. “Please, you’re all being so kind, but, I didn’t expect—”

  “Never mind, darling,” the darkly elegant woman said. “Tomorrow, if you wish to go, Leon will take you. You will come to no harm during the brightness of day, when he will be seen.” And she was left totally alone.

  “Good grief,” she whispered to herself, “and I don’t even know any of these people,” except for perhaps Rick. “Oh hell, what have I gotten myself into now?” She sighed, and prepared to attempt sleep.

  She turned off the pitifully small, ineffective lamp, fell into bed, and drew the covers close, up close to her throat. She did not like being alone in a strange place.

  “Would it be improper for me to keep you company?”

  “Rick! Is it you?” She sat up. It was totally dark, and she could see nothing. “Please, don’t go, I’m terrified.”

  “Of what? The serial killer? He can’t come here. This place is like a fortress,” she heard him say as he let himself sink to the floor. He sat by her bed, reached up to hold her hand softly, pull it to his lips, and kiss it.

  “No,” she whispered. “This whole place. Oh I don’t know. Everything.”

  “It’s only for your own protection. No one wants another murder on the streets, with the body dumped outside our establishment.”

  “Rick, I just realized that I didn’t hear the door open when you came in. I mean...I think I locked it.”