Digital ISBNs
EPUB 978-0-2286-0776-2
Amazon 978-0-2286-0777-9
WEB 978-0-2286-0778-6
Amazon Print 978-0-2286-0779-3
2nd Edition Copyright 2019 Shirley Martin
Cover Art by Michelle Lee
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Even at two in the morning the streets were vibrant. Within the shadow of a ten-story building in downtown Miami, Varik eyed the passers-by. Most were human, but some, like Celestia in her red silk dress definitely were not. They’d first met her over five hundred years ago. She liked to keep several men dangling at the same time.
He stayed in the shadows and she didn’t see him, which was just as well. He’d finally tired of her mercurial nature and silly ways and had acquired another lover. Several other vampiresses walked past, none of whom he knew, but he could tell they belonged to the undead. He’d learned the signs, long ago.
Streetlights cast a dull glow on the rain-swept streets as a gust of wind blew loose papers and rattled empty cans along the sidewalk. Royal palms lined Biscayne Boulevard, their fronds tossing in the wind. Cars and an occasional truck sped along the boulevard. Newly arrived in the city, Varik aimed to get a feel for it, as he had for every city he’d visited in the past one thousand years. He wanted to get its pulse.
He glanced at his companion and grinned. “Just look at all these women!”
Sandon, a good friend from centuries past, nodded toward one of the human prostitutes who sashayed past, a beeper attached to her belt, a look of single-minded purpose on her face. “Varik, let me give you a bit of advice. Forget about the undead. Mortal women are so easy to seduce and quite skilled as lovers. Funny thing, if mortals accept us at all, they think we are cold blooded.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Little do they know.”
Varik smiled in agreement.
“It surprises me that you haven’t sampled the pleasures these females have to offer,” Sandon said.
“Why would I want a mortal woman? I have enough lovers of my own kind.” Yet he had often wondered if there was a woman meant only for him? A woman with whom he could spend eternity?
“Why be different?” Sandon countered. “You’re definitely out of step with the rest of our kind. Why, we seduce mortal women all the time. And if we transform them into one of us, so much the better.”
Varik frowned. “Changing these women against their will?”
“Who cares if they’re changed willingly or not?” Sandon sneered. “You’re too squeamish.”
Varik forced a smile. “Not squeamish , just lazy. I don’t need to trouble myself with turning a human into one of the undead when I’m satisfied with my vampire lovers.”
His friend clapped a pudgy hand on his shoulder. “The challenge, don’t you see? Or maybe not a challenge for you. With your dark good looks all you need to do is snap your fingers at a mortal female, and she’ll come running.”
“Just like that, hmm,” Varik snapped his fingers, “and I have a mortal woman in my bed?”
Sandon smiled. “Now you get the idea. Do you want to be different from the rest of us?”
“Frankly, I don’t care.” He shifted his position, leaning back against the marble facade of the building. “I’ve gone my own way for over one thousand years. I’m not about to change now.”
Sandon looked him up and down. “Ah, I have it. You’re afraid to approach a human woman.”
“Me, afraid?” Varik scoffed. “Never!”
“Well, then, how about it? Why don’t you go after one of these mortal beauties?”
Why not? The saints knew he’d had enough vampire lovers throughout the centuries. Now that he thought about it, they were beginning to go stale. All the same after a few hundred years, boring. Possibly it was time to see what his friend found so fascinating about these human females.
Sandon gave him a close look. “Well?”
He smiled enigmatically. “We’ll see.”
* * *
Jennifer stepped outside onto the brick patio, needing to escape the continual bragging of the stockbroker whose only subject was himself. Closing the French doors behind her, she shut out most of the noise and laughter from the party inside; a welcome relief. Surprised she had the patio to herself, she rested her hand on the iron railing and inhaled the cool November air, her gaze absorbing the magnificent houses and lush foliage of this elegant Coral Gables neighborhood. Some day she hoped to have a home of her own, but she knew she could never afford a spacious mansion such as this. Yet that was fine with her: a more modest house would suit her nicely, such as the one she lived in now.
Alone with her thoughts, she considered how well things were going for her now. An only child, she’d been spoiled all her life. Things had come so easily for her. Pretty and popular, she’d been a cheerleader in high school, dating the football players. Her grades in high school and college had been mostly A’s, with an occasional B. She wondered what would happen if she ever met a real challenge. How would she handle adversity, if it ever came to that? And then she wondered what had prompted this introspection...
The fragrance of night-blooming jasmine drifted her way, carried by a light easterly breeze. She stared upward at the clear sky where a sprinkling of stars and a couple of planets overcame the competition of bright city lights. She’d return to the party in a few minutes, but for now, she wanted time to herself. She’d had a rough week and wanted just a few moments alone.
“A beautiful night, isn’t it?”
“Oh!” She swung around to stare at the stranger,. “You scared me! You shouldn’t sneak up on a person like that. I didn’t hear the doors close.” Dressed in a black suit, white shirt and dark tie, he stood a few feet away, next to the door. Tall, dark, and handsome. The cliché slipped easily from her mind, but it was true. At least his hair was dark, but his skin was the palest she’d ever seen, as if he never got enough sunlight. On him, the combination was fascinating. If Helen of Troy had a face that could launch a thousand ships, this man had the good looks to send a rocket to Mars.
He smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He nodded toward the party inside. “It was getting much too noisy in there.”
She tilted her head at him. “I didn’t see you there.”
“But I saw you across the room, and I wanted to meet you. I hope you don’t mind.”
His dark eyes focused on her. Those eyes! She could gladly sink into them and never come up for air.
Even here, she caught a faint trace of laughter from inside. “Normally, I like parties, but sometimes–“ she shrugged, “–sometimes I like to be by myself.”
“I, also. Present company excepted.” He smiled and moved closer.
Frowning, she backed away a few steps.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said, as if he could read her mind.
“Well, I didn’t think that for one minute.” She fussed with the buttons of her white silk blouse and shifted from one foot to another. She gave him a closer look in the darkness, his devilish gaze meeting hers. Devilish. Why did that word spring to her mind? She admired his dark looks, but she’d learned long ago that looks meant nothing if a person was empty inside, or worse, harmful to others. Just look at Bruce, the scumbag.
“Do I meet with your approval?”
Her face warmed, and she opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it.
He inclined his head. “Permit me to introduce myself. My name is Varik Kruger.”
“Varik? Never heard that name before.”
“I fear it’s a long story.” He raised his eyebrows. “And you are?”
“Jennifer.” No point in telling him her last name. After tonight, she’d never see him again. For some inexplicable reason, a rush of disappointment clutched at her stomach.
“Jennifer, tell me about yourself.” Folding his arms, he lounged against the railing, a study in nonchalance.
She shook her head. “Not much to tell.”
“I want to hear it, anyway.”
She hesitated, licking her lips.
“Jennifer?”
She took a deep breath. “To begin with, I teach English at a local high school.”
“Literature?”
“Literature and grammar, mostly.”
“Ah, yes. And you’re from Miami?”
“Originally from Pittsburgh, a town called Fox Hollow.” She smiled. “You find a lot of funny place names in Pennsylvania.”
He waved his hand. “Same all over the world.” A pause. “Your family still lives in Pennsylvania?”
“Yes, and I miss them very much.” Why was she telling him all of this? There was something about him that made her want to tell him everything, to bare all her secrets, reveal all her hopes and dreams. And she’d only just met him.
“But you–“
“Just wanted a change,” she said, gripping the railing. Never mind telling him the real reason, that she’d come to Miami to get away from an abusive boyfriend. Jealous because she’d dated another man, he’d slapped her face so hard she’d suffered a bruise for days. That same night, he’d said he’d never let her go. He was such a charmer, at first. He’d sure charmed her mother, who saw no fault in him. And her mother didn’t know he’d slapped her. So ashamed of the wallop, she’d told everyone that she’d bumped into a door. She recalled his stalking, his menacing phone calls. That was bad enough, but when he threatened to hurt her parents, slash her father’s tires ... she knew it was time to move on.
What if her mother gave Bruce her address? Hell, no! Jennifer knew too well she had to learn to be more discriminating, not fall for every sweet talker who came her way.
Trying to dismiss her dismal thoughts, she brought her mind back to Varik and smiled in his direction. “You’re from this country?”
“Why, yes,” he said after a slight pause. “What makes you ask?”
“Your speech sounds a little different, kind of formal.”
“I spend a good deal of time in Europe,” he said, as if that explained everything. Which it didn’t.
A period of silence followed. As if by mutual agreement, they both looked up at the night sky with its sprinkling of stars and a cloud that slid in front of the moon. A cool breeze picked up, fluttering her silk skirt around her knees and blowing a lock of hair across her face. Hibiscus bushes on the spacious grounds rustled in the breeze. For the first time that evening, she felt at peace, and why, she couldn’t say. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and changed her position, thinking she really should go back inside.
His low voice snatched her attention. “Did you come by yourself?”
She turned to look at him. “Yes, I drove.”
He pressed his hand to his heart in mock sorrow. “You have deprived me of the opportunity to drive you home. But seriously, it would have been my pleasure to do just that, had you needed a ride.” He leaned her way, his voice cascading over her like a warm shower. “I should like very much to see you again.”
“Thanks. I appreciate your sentiments. But I don’t ride with strangers. And I’m real busy right now.” Aware of how abrupt she must seem, she smiled to take the sting from her words. “What’s that expression about ships that pass in the night?”
“Ah, yes, Shakespeare. And very true, I’m afraid, except that this is a lovely moonlit patio.”
“Besides, I don’t know a thing about you.”
He smiled lazily. “What if I told you I’m a vampire?”
She laughed. “You’re too late for Halloween, and too early for April Fools’ Day.”
He laughed too, a husky chuckle from deep in his throat, as if they’d shared a huge joke.
A wicked sense of danger stirred inside her. She knew she should leave, but something kept her glued to the spot, as if by her departure from him the world would stop spinning, the sun would turn to ashes.
Sighing inwardly, she turned toward the door. “It’s been nice meeting you, but I should get back inside.” She fluttered her fingers at him. “See you.” How empty the night seemed now, all pleasure gone from the evening. And she’d never see him again. She wondered why that outcome should bother her so, and besides, she should know better. After Bruce, it would be just as well if she stayed away from all men.
She turned away from him, a faint scent of floral perfume wafting in the air.
“Goodnight, Jennifer.” Varik admired her supple walk, her high heels clicking on the bricks, her dark skirt rippling around her knees. He liked the way her light brown hair bounced across her shoulders as she moved. Her fresh, clean looks captivated him, her smile absolutely the most enchanting he’d ever seen. Was she aware of what an admiring image she presented, one that made him want to hold her and kiss her to drive them both breathless?
He wanted to see her again. He would see her again. By the time the party broke up, he’d approach the host, use his mesmerizing charm to discover Jennifer’s address. And see her again, this woman he’d just met, this woman he couldn’t drive from his mind.
As daylight slid into dusk, Jennifer stood on the walkway of her rented house in Biscayne Village next to the carriage light to replace the burned-out bulb. The setting sun dipped below the horizon, a cool wind tossing tree branches. On her tiptoes, she tried to remove the protective glass covering, only to find it was a few inches too high. Now she’d have to go inside and get a stepladder. Damn! She had so much to do tonight–grade papers, make up lesson plans for the rest of the week, not to mention sorting through last week’s mail. Sighing, she thought about the man she’d met at the party last weekend, one who’d stayed in her mind more than she cared to admit. But of course, she’d never see him again, so best to forget him. Forget him? A wave of disappointment washed over her.
Modest but neat stucco houses lined both sides of Oleander Street, the yards adorned with bougainvillea, hibiscus, and of course, oleander bushes. The scent of cooking meat floated through the air, neighbors having a barbecue. Across the street, two squirrels chased each other up and down the trunk of a spreading oak. Farther down the street, a dog barked incessantly. Mr. Anderson’s German Shepherd; at least he didn’t let the dog run loose. She waved at one of her teenage neighbors as he rode past on his bike.
She had an option to buy the house and planned on doing just that. With three bedrooms and two baths, it was roomy and comfortable. She lived in a safe, solid neighborhood, with people of all ages residing there, many of whom numbered among her friends.
Turning to go back inside, she heard a car door slam but ignored it. The people to the east of her came and went at all hours of the day and night.
“Good evening.”
She spun around, pressing her hand to her heart. The same guy who’d been on her mind! “Do you make a habit of scaring people?” She narrowed her eyes. “How’d you know where I live?”
In black jeans and a white cotton button-down shirt, he looked as debonair as he had last Saturday. “I asked the host of the party for your address. My powers of persuasion,” he said quickly in response to her shocked expression. “Honestly, I just told him I wanted to get to know you better, and–“
“He had no right to give you my address!” Her face warmed, her heart pounding.
“Then put the blame on me. I can be very convincing, something I’ve learned over the years.” He looked contrite. “And I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, surely didn’t mean to.”
“Okay, then.” Even though daylight was fading, she saw his face much more clearly than she had on the patio so recently. It was a face comprised of lines and planes, of lips neither thick nor thin, a distinctive looking nose, and those dark, mesmerizing eyes.
“Ah, staring again.”
She blushed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude.”
“I’ve been guilty of the crime myself.” He looked her full in the face, his eyes as dark and mysterious as she remembered. “What color would you say your hair is?”
“Just brown.”
“Ah, no, far lovelier than that. Even in the dim light, I can see how your hair glimmers and shines. And your eyes–“
“Hazel.”
He nodded, folding his arms across his wide chest. “Hazel with golden flecks. Very pretty eyes.”
“How can you tell so much in this dusky light?”
He shrugged. “Good night vision.”
“Oh.” She smiled.
“Ah, dimples, too.”
Silent moments passed, Jennifer at a loss for words. Yet here he was, the man she thought never to see again.
“Well, as long as you’re here,” she finally said, aware she sounded less than gracious, “maybe you can replace this bulb for me.”
“Of course.” First unscrewing the protective covering, he reached for the bulb. Their fingers touched as he took the bulb from her, a silent moment of wonder engulfing her. She dismissed her fanciful thoughts, refusing to dwell on the effect this man had on her. Within minutes, he accomplished the task, an easy reach for him.
“Thanks.” She brushed her dusty hands on her jeans. “Would you like to come inside for a cup of coffee?” Do you know what you’re getting into?
“No coffee, thank you, but I’d like to talk for a while.”
He held the screen door open for her as they stepped into the foyer, a small area graced with a potted yellow orchid on a tall stand. The living room featured a wide sofa, with tables at each end. White porcelain lamps posed on each end table, and a long coffee table held a wide selection of books and magazines. She’d turned one of the bedrooms into an office, with her computer and scads of books and magazines. She’d added her own touches to the house, a Waterford vase filled with pink carnations on another table, a Monet painting–a reproduction, of course–on a far wall. All in all, she was happy with the house and could hardly wait until it was truly hers.
With an easy grace, he sank onto the sofa and stretched his long legs out, then gestured toward the books. “Another bookworm.”
She perched on the edge of the ottoman, her hands clasped between her knees. “Another?”
“I, too, like to read.”
“Yeah, but for me, it’s a matter of finding the time.” She indicated the pile of books, both novels and non-fiction. “I have a fairly eclectic taste in books, but my schoolwork keeps me so busy I hardly have time to read.”
He flashed her a smile, his teeth white and even. “But you have vacations.”
“Well, yes, Thanksgiving coming soon. Maybe I’ll find the time then.”
“You’re not going home for the holiday?”
She shook her head. “Not going home. Have to save my money.” Yet she didn’t like the idea of spending the holiday alone. She smiled his way. “You have a family down here?”
A look of sadness crossed his face. “They’re all dead.”
“All of them? No cousins, aunts, or uncles?”
‘Everyone, a long time ago.”
Odd, she thought. She’d never heard of anyone this young not having any living relatives. And what could she make of this man? Despite her doubts about him, she admitted that his friendly manner, and his low voice, brought a smile to her face and a lift to her disillusioned heart. She scolded herself for her gullible ways. Would she never learn that a man could be a charmer and a jerk at the same time?
His baritone voice cut through her thoughts. “We could spend the evening together after Thanksgiving.”
Mixed emotions vexed her. Pleased to have his interest but afraid to get close to a man again, she frowned. “An evening together? Where?”
“I know of a club on the Beach where we can have a quiet drink and dance.”
Her mind struggled with her heart, and her heart won. She couldn’t stay a recluse for the rest of her life. “Sounds like fun,” she said, after a brief hesitation.
“Good.” Forehead creased in thought, he glanced at the telephone on the end table, then rose from the chair with the same casual grace. “I’ll call you later, make arrangements to pick you up. I’m looking forward to an evening together.”
“Me, too.” And what do you know, she meant it.
“Relax a bit during your Thanksgiving holiday,” he said as he headed for the door. ‘Maybe you can get some reading done then.”
“We’ll see.”
After Varik left, she headed for the kitchen to pop a frozen dinner of teriyaki chicken into the microwave. She had a roomy kitchen, painted in yellow, with granite countertops and a printed yellow curtain over a window that faced the back yard. Bougainvillea and hibiscus bushes bloomed in back, a serenade in color.
Opening the freezer, she heard the phone ring and closed the door to answer it.
“Hey, Mom, how’s everything there? Saw on TV that you’re having snow in Pittsburgh.”
“Light snow, melted already. But we’ve been thinking about you, wondering how you’re
getting along.”
She brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “Busy as usual.”
A slight pause ensued. “Saw Bruce the other day. He keeps asking about you and–“
She clenched her fist. ”Mom! I don’t want to hear about him! I never want to see that jerk again!”
“Jennifer! How can you talk about him that way? Why, he’s always so polite and attentive. And asking about you, of course.”
“I’ll bet he is!” With no brothers or sisters, she was aware how coddling her parents could be, had been that way all her life. And no doubt, they wanted to see her married with children.
“Stop being so cynical, Jennifer. Do you realize what you sound like? Anyway, Bruce helped us install shelves in the basement so your dad can store his tools better.”
“Buttering you up.”
“There you go again! I don’t know what’s turned you against him.”
Yeah, and you wouldn’t want to know, either. “Mom, can’t you just accept the fact that Bruce isn’t all he pretends to be?”
“Did you two have sex? I hope you’re protected.”
“No, we didn’t have sex! Stop talking about him!” She thought quickly. “And don’t give him my address. Mom, there’s something wrong with him, I swear there is. I don’t want him to know where I live.”
“Well, I....”
“I mean it.” She paused, trying to cool her temper. “You didn’t give him my address, did you?”
“No, but....”
“Good, just leave it at that.” She settled onto the sofa, her heart pounding. “Can Dad come to the phone?”
“He fell asleep, watching TV, and it’s only early evening. That’s what happens when you get old.”
“Hey, you’ll both live to be one hundred,” Jennifer said, hoping to inject some levity into the conversation.
“You’re coming home for Christmas, aren’t you?”