Vampire Vacation

by D C Young

  Quickly, I browsed through the pages. The case was interesting, I’ll give him that. As usual, at first glance his client was clearly guilty but knowing Kingsley, there was something more there than met the eye. It was something that both infuriated and stirred admiration in me for him. He sincerely felt that everyone, no matter the outlook of their situation, deserved a good defense. But because of that same philosophy, he really did end up defending some guilty scumbags at times.

  I took a deep breath, picked up the phone and quickly dialed Kingsley cell phone number. It rang just three times before he answered. His voice was upbeat as usual.

  “Hi, it’s me,” I said, “I just got your package do you want to fill me in. What do you need me to do?”

  “Hi, Sam. I know you’ll be going off on vacation in a few days but I was really hoping you could check out a few things around town for me before you leave.”

  Well, I guess he did get the memo…

  “Okay, I don’t think that’ll be a problem, my desk is really clear right now.” I found myself giving my desk the once over as if to confirm the statement to myself. I’d had a steady stream of clients since my dramatic introduction to the Immortal Council a year ago and though neither Julia nor any of the other inhabitants of Elysium House had confirmed such, I always had a strong feeling they had something to do with the influx of work.

  I’d investigated quite a few missing person cases as well as a few straight out paranormal activity phenomena and it had all been really good for business. But at the same time, knowing how much this trip meant to everyone, not to mention my own growing anticipation to get away, I’d stopped taking anything on that needed my immediate attention two weeks ago. I wanted to prepare for the trip but that hadn’t stopped me from filling up every available consultation appointment for a month after our scheduled return from Tybee Island.

  “Great!”Kingsley said. “Let me fill you in. Do you have a pen and paper?”

  I grabbed a notebook from the top drawer in my desk and jotted down the information quickly. Being able to write as fast as I could hear had definitely been one vampire quality that helped with my line of work. Sometimes I wrote down entire conversations as they were happening and people there just thought I was making notes.

  “Okay, I’ve got it. I’ll give the guy a call as soon as we hang up. If he can meet today that would be better than putting it off for later in the week; Mary Lou has us flying out to Georgia Thursday morning.”

  “I really hope you have a great time out there. Of all the people I know, you deserve a vacation the most, Sam. With everything that’s been going on lately, there’s no doubt you need a rest.”

  “Thanks, Kingsley. I’ll keep you posted.”

  It meant a lot coming from Kingsley. It was nice to have someone around who recognized your hard work and supported you in your career.

  Husbands…boyfriends, take note!

  I hung up and dialed Rennie Telfair’s number. He too, answered quite promptly. After a brief chat, we’d decided to meet that afternoon at a shop he owned in Westminster called Esscenxe.

  After I hung up, I Googled the place to get directions and found it was about twenty minutes from my house in Fullerton, a relatively easy drive too. I also found out it was some sort of New Age herbal shop that also sold books. If I had known at that moment what I would encounter in that strange little place in Westminster that afternoon, I might have stayed away.

  I smile now as I think about it, knowing I wouldn’t have changed a thing because then I would never have met my newest friend, the mysterious and intriguing, Mr. Rennie Telfair.

  Chapter Five

  Rennie Telfair

  Finally… I meet the famous Samantha Moon.

  I liked tea time, I really did, but I never liked tea. A mixture of two fingers of Kentucky’s finest bourbon and three fingers of Coke, in precise measure, of course, was better suited to my tastes. My daddy preferred RC Cola in the mix, mostly, because he was a personal friend of Claud A. Hatcher of Colombus, Georgia, who came up with the concoction; as granddaddy and I have always called it. I take after my granddaddy with my cola preference. The two of them are still arguing over how I was ruined. I know. I watch it take place at every afternoon tea, except for when I’m in California, though they’ve been dead for years.

  In general, being a psychic isn’t all that bad. Listening and watching my dead kinfolk argue is one of its drawbacks. So, I escape to California as often as I’m able. I even have a few bookshops set up there to pass the time, mostly. The shops do provide some modest income on occasion, but I don’t really need it.

  In my years as a silent member of the paranormal community in Los Angeles, I’ve heard about every supernatural being, every psychic prodigy, spell caster, witch and fortuneteller on the West Coast worth mentioning. I hadn’t had the pleasure… or displeasure of meeting them all, but I had come to be acquainted with quite a few.

  Being the owner of a few of the only bonafide magic bookshops left in existence was definitely helpful in that enterprise. You see, sooner or later, they all ended up finding me for one reason or another.

  But then, there were always creatures like Samantha Moon, who never really ‘needed’ anything that I had to offer. These were usually the people I found the most intriguing. Resourceful, self sufficient and industrious… they were just like me.

  I’d heard of the incident that caused Samantha’s vampirism. The blatant, barbaric attack had been the talk of the underground community for months after the fact. I was surprised she’d survived and even more surprised that she’d rallied back from it so well.

  She’d accepted it, adjusted for it and come out like the champion she was.

  So admirable! So courageous!

  I’d followed the gossip about her wavering husband and kept myself abreast of the situation when her son, Anthony, had fallen ill. His recovery had been a relief and his development after that, astounding. When her daughter, Tammy had run away, I was heartbroken. I was jubilant when Detective Spinoza found her and opened up a much needed line of communication between mother and daughter. Tammy had flourished after that.

  You see everything happens for a reason!

  For someone I had never met, I surely found her fascinating. That’s a lot coming from me; I am rarely fascinated with anything or anyone for that matter. Books, magic paraphernalia and all things paranormal are hobbies of mine; the more bizarre, the better.

  I was at my office in the Esscenxe Bookshop when I received the call that I was expecting from Samantha Moon. Samantha occasionally helped out Kingsley Fulcrum in his legal practice and had been assigned with conducting an interview with me concerning information that I had about a client he was defending in a murder case. I had witnessed only a portion of what had taken place during an argument that ended with two men pulling pistols, but from which only one walked away.

  Miss Moon had made arrangements to join me for tea in my office that afternoon. I knew her by reputation only, so I was eager to get to meet her. Being acquainted with others among the Western Elders, I had heard of her exploits and was already quite impressed at the name she had made for herself in such a short time. As I waited for her to arrive, I was considering how much information, if any, I wanted to provide her with. There was a much larger issue at stake than just the criminal trial in which Kingsley Fulcrum’s client was involved.

  “Gladys,” I called out to my assistant, who also doubled as a clerk in the Bookshop.

  “Yes, Mister Telfair?” she asked.

  “I am expecting a Miss Samantha Moon for tea. Do make certain that she finds her way into the parlor?”

  “As you wish, Mister Telfair,” Gladys responded.

  I was aware that Miss Moon was a vampiress and wouldn’t be able to consume tea any more than I could, though her reason was a matter of life and death and mine was a matter of choice. I set my mind upon a bottle of pinot grigio in a modest amount for my guest who would arrive at any moment. I went ah
ead and poured my mixture of bourbon and Coke.

  My family had been drinking the distilled spirit of Kentucky since the 18th century, in fact, even before it was referred to as bourbon. My great granddaddy and granddaddy even made a sizable portion of the money that bought the land and built the stately home on Seagull Point from making certain that thirsty folks in Georgia had plenty to drink during Prohibition. There is even a long running joke in my family that the psychic powers that were passed down from my mama to me were brought on by the consumption of bourbon, though mama never touched the stuff.

  “Devil in a bottle,” she’d called it, though, from what I could tell, she didn’t hold any particular grudge against the devil. She had one against Yankees though and she took up my granddaddy’s side of things whenever there was a discussion about how those damned Yankees got off telling people what they could and couldn’t do; a sentiment that might have been more appropriate in the 1920s than in the latter 20th century.

  “Mister Telfair,” Gladys called out, interrupting my thoughts about my mama. “Miss Samantha Moon has arrived.”

  “Miss Moon,” I beamed, clapping my hands together as I rose to meet her. “Welcome. Welcome. Will you join me for some afternoon tea?”

  As I greeted her, avoiding touching her for obvious reasons, I extended the glass of wine toward her and saw her smile. She knew that I was knowledgeable about her dietary requirements and was making accommodations for them. I think that it was in that instant that there was a connection made between the two of us. A connection based upon mutual respect and admiration; well admiration on my part anyway, I can’t speak for Miss Moon. In that same moment, I also made up my mind about how much information I was going to give her during that first visit; none.

  She really didn’t waste any time at getting down to business, though I had to correct her when she insisted on calling me, Mister Telfair. My daddy and granddaddy were referred to as, Mister Telfair, I’m just Rennie, especially to my friends. I was certain that Samantha Moon and I were going to be friends. Judging by her reaction to the fact that I was withholding the critical information which I had for a later time, I also learned that she was the patient sort.

  Wanting her to know plenty about me and hoping to, someday, have the same opportunity to know her better, I told her of the history of my family in South East Georgia, of our philanthropic activities and the numerous projects that had been funded and bore the names of particular Telfair family members, though I left out the part about how much of that money had been gained through illegal activity. It was better to save that sort of thing for when you knew someone better. And I did want to get to know her better. So, I invited her and her family to join me for a weekend at Seagull Point. To my great delight, she accepted.

  Chapter Six

  Tammy

  I see dead people… everywhere!

  As soon as we stepped off the plane in Savannah, I was seeing ghosts. I could tell my mom was too. She always did a slight double take when she spotted them. It was a little tic, almost. I don’t know if anyone else ever noticed but because I usually saw exactly what she was seeing, it was easier for me to discern.

  There was a woman standing by the door of the finger dock looking expectant as if she were waiting for someone she knew to disembark the plane. When the door closed behind the last passenger leaving the aircraft, she hung her head sadly and moved down the concourse to the next arrival gate.

  We walked down the concourse pulling our carry-on luggage behind us. There weren’t many passengers making their way towards baggage claim; we’d traveled on a fairly small aircraft from Atlanta. After a short walk, the concourse opened up into a wide atrium which served as a food court and meeting area. There was little to no security; but I guess that’s how smaller domestic airports were. Funny, they would classify Savannah- Hilton Head as an international airport.

  The atrium was filled with potted plants. It was so green, like a greenhouse almost. The outdoors coming in was refreshingly different from the modern white and stainless steel décor of the concourse and it was obvious mortals weren’t the only ones that found it attractive.

  Everywhere I looked, there were spirits wandering around. An old man sat in one of the colorful rocking chairs that lined the center aisle through the atrium. He was reading a newspaper; holding it open with both hands. No one else saw him, but the chair mysteriously kept rocking back and forth slowly on its own. No one tried to sit in that rocking chair. I stopped for a second and smiled at him and he winked back at me with a mischievous smirk on his face. Suddenly, I felt mom hold my hand and give me a tug.

  Time to move on…

  The old man nodded at me and went back to reading his newspaper.

  We followed the other passenger who seemed to know where they were going. That took us onto an escalator that went down into the baggage claim and exit area.

  At the information desk, I saw a man dressed as a taxi driver leaning up against the desk doing his best to get the attention of the clerk who was sitting behind it. Of course, she didn’t see him.

  “I need a map, Ma’am. They’ve changed everything downtown and I just can’t get around down there anymore. A whole bunch a’ one ways and ‘No Parking’ signs. It’s a helluva mess,” he said. But she didn’t acknowledge him.

  My cousins took off towards the information booth when they caught sight of the thousands of colorful brochures and other printed paraphernalia.

  You know how kids can get.

  While mom and Mary Lou divvied up the responsibilities, I offered to order us an Uber and then went to help Uncle Rick round up the young ones. When he was wrangling his three unruly youngsters away from the captivating mountain of printed paper, I snuck a map down and handed it to the ghostly taxi driver. Honestly, I was surprised that he could take it from my hands. But he did and a wide smile spread across his face.

  “Just don’t go getting into any accidents, okay,” I said to him softly. I mean, I didn’t want to look like the crazy teenager who talks to thin air. “It’s dangerous on the roads these days. Buckle up and stay safe.”

  He nodded at me, then turned and vanished as he walked through the exit doors.

  I sighed and looked down at my phone, opened the Uber app and ordered the XL car my mom had asked for.

  Soon we were on the way to Tybee. Our driver, Dani, was a really awesome person. I could tell she was a rebel or rockabilly type, even under all the professional business attire. Her waist was cinched in and her ample bust enhanced by what must have been a steel boned corset under her jacket. Her ears were pierced twice with one of them stretched out to maybe a ‘0’ gauge. She had both sides of her nose pierced and what I thought was a septum piercing with the jewelry turned up into her nose so the average client couldn’t see it.

  But I’m not your average client, Miss Dani, I am Lady TamTam! Detective and paranormal liaison extraordinaire!

  The ride through downtown Savannah was surreal. After a while, I noticed my mom stopped looking out the window and focused her attention on chatting with my Aunt Mary. I decided to follow suit. Everywhere spirits roamed the streets of downtown Savannah, later that week we would find that fact also extended to the historic district and further afield as well.

  There’ll be plenty of time to ghost watch.

  When we got to the villa, I was relieved to find there were no transparent residents in sight.

  Personally, I’d rather have only humans hanging around the place where I sleep, thank you very much!

  As soon as I had chosen my room and unpacked, I picked up my Journal, found the next blank page and started to write down the newest adventure of Lady TamTam.

  I had a feeling this vacation would provide more than enough material to write my best story yet!

  Chapter Seven

  Lady TamTam

  Lady TamTam rested her right hand on the hilt of her katana as she stared downhill into a copse of trees. At her feet was the detritus of her latest victim. A minor
vampire that she’d wanted to talk to, but he’d pissed her off so he was now dust.

  Young men and women gathered in the small forest. If she rolled her eyes any harder at them, she’d see her brain. Each pale face had red lips drawn on them and fake fangs in their mouths. She sighed. Vampire wanna-be’s.

  Then someone new entered the circle of followers, making Lady TamTam stand straighter and put a tighter grip on her weapon. A tall, lean vampire held the rapt attention of those in the trees; a real vampire, one that Lady TamTam had never seen in the area before.

  The last thing she needed was another vampire stirring up trouble. Based on the young girl kneeling at his feet while tilting her head to offer him her neck, this was more trouble than usual.

  The thing she needed was more damn vampires in her territory. Especially young ones. At least the old ones knew the rules. She would kill them if they didn’t find another place to live and tell her who made them. The young ones had no sense of decorum. She didn’t want to waste her strength on them, but they asked to be killed.

  Currently on the search for new nests, Lady TamTam now realized with chagrin that one had developed without her knowing it.

  “Dang nabbit!”

  She needed to get down there before the man made the girl another vampire. Lady TamTam could whoosh down there, but she had a feeling his followers would take her out. Hmm. Let them disassemble while making a new creature of the night or risk getting killed and take out this vermin now?

  She didn’t like her odds, but then again she’d walked into worse situations. With a whoosh, she appeared in the woods.

  The followers were initially stunned as she swung her sword at their leader. It was silver tipped and as long as that part struck him, he’d be dead.

  But he’d moved. Faster than she’d ever seen a vampire move. His followers were beginning to come out of their stupor. A deep, evil laugh reached her on the wind.