Deadwood: A Vampire Series (The Darker Side of Deb Book 2)

by Caroline Gebbie

  The Darker Side

  Of Deb

  Book Two Deadwood

  By

  Caroline Gebbie

  From an Original Idea by Neil James Gebbie

  Kindle Edition.

  © Copyright Caroline Gebbie 2014

  Spooky Night Books.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means either electronic or mechanical, including recording or photocopying, or any information-retrieval or storage system, without prior written permission of the Author. Your continued support of author’s rights is much appreciated.

  All characters in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  The Table of Contents is included at the back of the book.

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  Chapter One

  Deb sat at the kitchen table, her legs hanging uselessly on the footplates of her wheelchair. She was feeling antsy and tired, excited and depressed; she wanted everyone to leave. She wanted the house to herself so she could practice or maybe even call Alix. There had to be a problem she could discuss with him. Some excuse she could use to call or maybe a text would be better.

  Across the table, Brett stared at his toast, his eyes smudged dark from lack of sleep, his thick brown hair mussed up more than usual. He was purposefully ignoring her and Deb couldn’t blame him. Since her change, the nightmares had become even more frequent. Every night the peace was shattered as she woke screaming, soaked in sweat as the horrors chased her through her dreams. Yet, when she woke up all she could remember was a sensation of terror. Even thinking about it gave her stomach that queasy, empty feeling and raised the hairs on her arms. She had to discuss it with Alix. A smile came unbidden to her face, she had her excuse and the mere thought of his name had heat flaming her cheeks. She dropped her head, allowing her long brown hair to tumble forward and cover her feelings for the handsome vampire. It would not do for her to look so delighted when the kitchen was so tense.

  Mace busied himself preparing breakfast, grumbling quietly after having failed to engage either of them in conversation. It created an oppressive feel to the room as if all three of them existed on a different plane and their paths couldn’t quite meet.

  Deb sighed, it had been two days since she had seen Alix and the last time she had been so aloof with him. Finding out he was a vampire along with the fact that she was some mutant strain had taken some getting used to. Questions swam around her head like Mace’s Koi around the pond. Nibbling at her peace the same as the fish nibbled at a lettuce he hung in the water. Soon it was as ravaged as her brain and she ended up with as many questions as that lettuce had suitors. Had he used her? Why was she in danger? It was confusing. If he knew then did he really like her or was he just using her to get close? There was also Vincent. The animosity he showed toward Alix was unnerving and Deb was not sure who to trust. She let out a bark of a laugh causing Mace and Brett to turn their eyes on her. Coughing to hide her mirth, she gave Brett a slight smile and hid her head from Mace. Her uncle was too wily and she must be careful around him. Still, there was one question she could answer. Alix was much more trustworthy than the arrogant Vincent Fox. Damn it, even his name was sneaky and to top it all off, he was rude. Deb hated rude people.

  His sins included: following her, being unwilling to trust her and he had baited and terrorized her until she had learned how to change. Of course, both men were good looking though. Mace placed a plate before her and her stomach groaned as she eyed the bacon and eggs. Hunger was definitely becoming a problem. The more time she spent in her vampire form, the less she could stomach real human food. So far, she had not succumbed to drinking blood but if she were unable to eat soon, then maybe she would have to.

  As Mace watched she cut off a small piece of bacon and was about to raise it to her lips.

  “What the fu…?” Brett let out, jumping up from the table and running to the TV.

  “Less of that language, young man,” Mace said but there was concern rather than anger in his voice.

  Deb’s eyes followed Brett’s retreating back just as he turned up the volume. The reporter’s voice came through painfully loud to her sensitive hearing.

  “To recap, Angela Sykes was found having committed suicide in her dorm room over the weekend. This is the second suicide in our town as businesswoman Jennifer Dumase was discovered in her office earlier this week.”

  “That’s rubbish,” Brett blurted over the broadcast. He had turned to face her and his eyes were wild, filled with hurt and desperation. “Ange would not do that. She… well, she liked me and we were having a great time on Friday.” His voice faded off and he sunk down into his chair.

  “Sometimes college can be hard on people,” Mace said. “Look, if you want to talk, I am here for you.”

  “No. I have to… I have to go.” With that, he was up from the table, grabbing his tatty blue rucksack and slamming the door behind him.

  Deb watched the door close and wanted to rush after him, but she knew it would do no good. Guilt settled in her stomach as she observed the emotions cross Mace’s face. He had become not only their guardian but also their confidant and it hurt him when he was unable to help. The urge to talk to him, to appease his conscience activated her speech gene. “Don’t worry about him. When he gets home things will be fine.”

  “I know,” Mace said. “I just want to help you two… It’s so hard to see either one of you in pain.”

  “You have done so much, Uncle. Don’t…” Halfway through the conversation, Deb remembered a case she had been working on. Three businesswomen had committed suicide, in three different ways, but the cases had felt wrong to Deb. She had started investigating them just before the accident.

  “Are you alright, Deborah dear?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, I just remembered something. I have to call Nova.” She should look into this, see how this woman died and see if it looked genuine. If she remembered correctly, all the previous women had no reason to commit suicide. It had seemed all wrong and the case had left an impression on her even though both Mace and the police believed she was just being hysterical and that there was nothing to investigate. Well, if it happened to another woman then they would have to look into it, wouldn’t they?

  Mace cleared away their plates and Deb almost wanted to laugh. He looked so vulnerable, so worried that he had done something wrong. Yet, he had been their rock. He knew nothing about raising children, only having been acquainted with them but when the need arose, he stepped up to the plate. He had been there for them all the way.

  “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked.

  Deb smiled and rubbed his arm. “We’re both doing great and we have you to thank for that. Don’t worry about Brett, he will be okay.” Should she mention this now? She had been searching for something else, to take her mind off her own problems and these suicides might be it. “Uncle Mace, don’t you think it’s strange that a successful woman would commit suicide?”

  Mace turned to her, his eyebrows pulled down with concern. She recognized that look, it was the ‘oh dear she’s on one of th
ose again’ look. Her shoulders dropped, the excitement gone. Maybe she was just looking for an excuse to investigate.

  “I think that life is very difficult for some people,” Mace said bringing her out of her reverie. “No matter what face people show to the world, there is often a secret one hidden and even when we think we know people, they can be very different from their public persona.” He pulled a chair out from the table. “Let’s have a cup of coffee and talk about this.”

  “No,” Deb said. “I’m alright. I guess I’m just looking for something to take my mind off...” She let her hands emphasize her body. Noting the concern that aged his face, she smiled. “Really, I’m alright.”

  “If you’re sure, dear.”

  “Yes, now go. I know you have a meeting this morning.”

  Mace smiled and looking less than sure, he left.

  The empty house was like a haven for Deb. She lowered the volume on the TV, switched off the lights and let her senses rest. Now she could text Alix but before she did, the suicides niggled at her conscience and she made another call.

  Chapter Two

  Alix sat in an oak tree outside of Deb’s house. It was his shift and he was finding it difficult. Watching her as she fought against the molasses grip of her nightmare was the hardest thing he had ever done. The urge to rush to her, to hold her tight and to make things better was overwhelming, but he had sat still. Pressed into the tree trunk, he fought against his instincts and stayed hidden in the shadows.

  The nightmares hit them all when the change happened. Many thought they occurred because the human left was fighting to stay alive over whatever piece of them became the vampire, but Alix was not so sure. Having been alive for over one hundred and forty years, he did not feel that he was different. There had been urges before the change, women and alcohol but now the urges were blood. The warm pulse of blood fresh from the vein was almost all consuming, but he had overcome them. The fear of killing again kept him awake and for the last fifty years it had been stronger than the urge for blood.

  He eased back against the trunk. If another predator was watching them, it was important that he keep a low profile. Her very safety depended on it. Each night and day either he or Vincent scoured the area, trying to find if a member of The Guild of Vampires was here and if they were watching. Yet it made no sense. If the assassin had come, then surely she would be dead. They would be dead. Yes, they had formed this loose alliance, but even with the two of them, they could not stand against a member of The Guild.

  Deb stepped to the window and Alix felt a pain where his heart was. Though it no longer beat it had become attached to this girl and the sight of her caused him to experience feelings he thought were long left behind. He wanted to call her, to text her and the thought of taking her for coffee gave him a thrill he had not felt in over fifty years. Yet, along with the joy there was the guilt that he had betrayed her.

  He owed a debt to the oldest vampire he knew. It was a debt of honor and yet he had broken it. He had been tasked to investigate Deb. Yet, when he returned to report to Dagmar Van Patten instead of telling him what he saw. That Deb was some form of hybrid. Able to turn into a vampire, yet at other times she not only looked human she, in fact, was human. Instead of reporting this, he had lied and said that the girl was not the one they sought. That she could not be the one involved in the prophecy. At the time he had expected to die but instead, Dagmar had thrown them a curve ball. He had told Alix to keep watching Deb and that he would call in an assassin from The Guild of Vampires, The Guild of the Undead.

  Alix was not usually brave by nature or noble. Yet, he had gone to his old enemy, Vincent Fox, and suggested an alliance. Now the two of them guarded Deb in shifts. One of them followed her at all times and they would die to keep her alive.

  There was movement behind him and Alix turned. Despite the long hours he had sat immobile, his muscles reacted perfectly. Turning nimbly on the narrow branch, he tensed for action then let out a sigh of relief. It was Vincent. Nodding an acknowledgment he settled down on the branch.

  “Has there been any movement?” Vincent asked.

  Alix knew that he did not mean with Deb. That he was asking if any danger had been detected. “Nothing,” Alix said.

  As Alix turned to go, both vampires heard the signal as his phone received a text. Even though it was on silent, they could hear the pulse of electric that was below the level of human hearing.

  Vincent’s eyes narrowed, asking the question.

  Alix reached for his phone and prayed it wasn’t Dagmar. His older ally would rip off his head in an instant if he believed he had been betrayed again. Flicking the screen Alix felt a spark of joy, it was Deb. “She’s having nightmares, wants to talk about it. I should get a few hours rest and then meet her.”

  “Why bother? She does not appreciate our help. She is like deadwood, weak and brittle. Whenever you go near her, she tends to snap. I would just leave her be,” Vincent said, yet Alix detected a tone in his voice. Was it a touch of jealousy?

  “You know how terrifying they are. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to explain them?”

  Vincent threw back his head and clenched his square jaw. Haunting gray eyes, hunter’s eyes turned to Alix. “Well, if you can explain them you are a better man than me.” With that, he turned back to the house and Alix was dismissed.

  ***

  Deb sat in a stuffy old room that Mace had given her as an office. Its tall ceilings always made her feel cold and insignificant, but she had a computer set up in here and a filing cabinet. Despite his better judgment, Mace had brought her old files from the investigations she had started before the accident and they were all neatly secured away. Pulling open the cabinet door it glided silently, smoothly and felt like a transition back to her old world. A smile came to her face and the excitement that kept her awake most nights started deep down in her gut. Yeah, or maybe it’s hunger as you haven’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch?

  She rummaged through the files and selected the one marked ‘Suicides’. Spreading it out over the desk, all thoughts of food were gone. There had been three suicides she felt were suspicious. All of the victims were single women, all highly successful and all had no reason to want to die. Deb had been younger then, somehow losing your parents and the use of your legs made you grow up quickly, and she had not known what to do. In her naivety, she had gone to Mace and to the police but they had all told her she was being impetuous. They more or less insinuated she wanted success as a reporter so much that she was making up cases to investigate. It had unsettled her badly at the time and when no more fishy cases came to light, she had put away the file and forgot about it.

  So why was she looking again? Nothing had changed, yet her intuition was screaming at her to check this out. If these women had been killed then it would not stop and she could be their only hope.

  There was very little in the file. Nova had been able to hack the morgue database and get her the coroner’s reports, but much of it made no sense. Deb opened a search window on her computer and started to type in every word she could not understand. She was meeting Nova and Summer for lunch and it would be good if she found something out before then.

  After an hour, she had discovered all of the women’s deaths were considered suicides and all had left a note. Lorraine Dimmick, a computer programmer who ran her own very successful business, had left: ‘Life’s too much for me, sorry I can’t cope.’ As she read it, Deb looked at the picture of a young woman who was not much older than herself. She smiled at the camera with an almost challenging grin and her beauty was so stunning that Deb found herself trying to catch her breath. Unnerved she turned the photo over.

  Skipping to the next file - Jean Parker was older with short brown hair and an intensity to her gaze. She looked alive, keen and like the sort of person who could cope with anything. She ran a hotel chain that was doing very well. She had just remortgaged, but the business was easily covering the payments. Her note said: ‘Things got too much
for me, sorry I can’t cope.’

  Deb glanced between the two notes. Why had she not spotted this before? They were so much alike, so similar. Excitement filled her and for a moment, she felt guilty that these women’s demise made her feel so alive. With fumbling fingers, she searched the file for the third note.

  Maggie Scott was a lawyer. The only picture in the file was one of her on the table during autopsy and Deb turned away as the sight of the blood both repulsed her and made her stomach growl with hunger. Maggie’s face was so white and drawn, her auburn hair fell behind her and Deb imagined it would be full and luscious. She had been a good-looking woman. With mounting excitement, Deb found her note. ‘Everything is too much for me, sorry I can’t cope.’ That was three for three. How come the police didn’t spot this? The notes were so similar it could not be a coincidence. Deb copied all three onto one piece of paper and went back to the files.

  Each woman had died in different circumstances and about three months apart. Lorraine had driven her BMW into the lake and drowned in her car. Jean had slit her wrists in the bath and Maggie had put a hose to her exhaust pipe and through her car window. So far, Deb had nothing for Jennifer Dumase. But a quick Google search showed the pretty woman. She was a journalist and had hanged herself. There was no mention of a note so Deb would need Nova to do some digging.

  Chapter Three

  Brett turned a corner around the ugly gray building and slipped down a side street. The morgue was two stories high and made out of large gray concrete blocks that were supposed to look like stone, but right now, they reminded him of the gray of a dead fish. Six mock Georgian windows lined the two levels and there were double glass doors opening into the lobby. He had passed the morgue on a number of occasions but had never ventured inside and right now, he was wondering if he was making the right choice. It was early, not half past seven yet and the side street was empty but he did not know how many staff were working and if he would be able to sneak in. Maybe he should just walk up to the front door and ask?