The Comanche Vampire (6 page)

“
Haa
,” she said in Comanche, her voice offering the right
guttural sound. “Yes, I’d like to, Ned.”

“What about your friend?” he asked, remembering the
woman he’d seen her talking with.

“I came alone,” Anne said.
 
He’d probably just made the biggest mistake
in at least a century, but Ned lacked the willpower to change it. “Let’s go,”
he said as she slipped her hand into his.
 
It fit, warm against his coolness and they walked together to sit down
as the drum pounded its rhythm in his sluggish blood.
 
He felt alive and for the moment, nothing
else mattered.

Chapter
Three

He’d never been seen at powwow or anywhere else in
recent memory holding hands with a woman.
 
Once, Ned knew they would’ve turned heads: a Comanche man with a white
woman, but no one stared or paid any attention.
 
In his original time, they would’ve shocked the socks off anyone of
either race but here he saw natural blondes among the gathered crowd and faces
ranging from African-American to Asian.
 
He, however, was as aware of Anne’s hand as he would’ve been if he
carried a writhing rattlesnake. Every detail etched into his consciousness, the
heat of her skin and how soft it felt against his big paw.
 
Her scent wafted from her hair and body into
his nose, stronger than the aroma of fry bread and hot grease.
 

Anne sat in Gary’s battered brown folding canvas
chair and smiled.
 
They watched the gourd
dance, one of Ned’s favorites.
 
The
dancers wore everything from simple street clothes, little different from what
he had on, to Native dress.
 
All the men,
from grandfathers to young men still in high school, carried rattles and moved
with the same steps.
 
Anne watched with
interest, her eyes lit.
 
From the
comments Anne made, it was evident she understood what she saw.
 
“Do you ever dance?” she asked.

“I have,” Ned said. “I don’t do the fancy dances in
full regalia, though.”

“Oh and why not?”

“It’s not authentic,” he said. “It’s like a red
man’s rodeo, not my thing.”

She nodded. “That’s a good description and I tend
to agree, although I love watching the fancy dress competitions. I would’ve
been surprised if you said you competed at that level.”

Her apparent understanding loosened his tongue.
“For me, it’s about the drum, the beat and the old ways,” he told her. “The
original dances in the old times weren’t done for show, but were serious
business.
 
The way the Comanche did the
buffalo dances to bring the herds closer or a war dance before they went out to
meet the enemy, those were about life and death.
 
The fancy costumes are just that –
costumes.
 
The style is right, the bright
colors are good but they’re too new, too perfect. In the Comanche days, they
were handed down over generations.”

“Yes, they were.
 
You seem to know a great deal,” Anne told him. “I’m impressed.
 
Have you studied?”

“No, I’m self-taught, I guess.
 
But I listened to the elders.”
And I remember.

“You must’ve.” Anne turned her attention back to
the arena and Ned noticed she tapped one foot with the beat of the drum.
 
He wondered if she’d ever danced,
anywhere.
 
As she focused on the powwow,
he studied her face.
 
She wore little
make-up and he liked the natural look of her creamy skin.
 
Ned noticed her cheekbones were high in her
face.
 
Then he realized, despite being
white with natural auburn hair, something about some of her features reminded
him of his people.
 
She said she’s from Texas.
 
I bet
there’s a Comanche great-grandma in the bunch somewhere.
 
He wondered if Anne knew and figured she
did.
 
It was probably what sparked her
interest in Indians and their culture.

He took pleasure observing her and her reactions to
the dancing.
 
Anne had what he called a
glass face, which revealed what she thought and felt.
 
The play of emotions and reactions over her
pretty features pleased and intrigued him.
 
Ned enjoyed it more than he should.
 
Their chairs rested inches apart and more than once when Anne leaned
forward for a closer glance at something, she rested her hand on his knee,
brief but far from casual.
 
He wasn’t
used to such intimacy and it rattled him.

Gary’s unexpected appearance shook Ned all the
more.
 
His friend grabbed his left
shoulder. “Hey, I see you’re staying busy,” Gary said with a wide grin.
 
“I wanted to get some water before the fancy
dress dance started.”

His gaze fell on the unopened bottle of water stuck
in the cup holder of the chair where Anne sat.
 
She noticed and stood up. “Oh, I’m sorry. I bet I’ve got your seat.”

“Oh, sit down, I’m not staying.” Gary grabbed the
water bottle and stared at Ned with huge eyes.

Ned knew what he had to do and did. “Gary, this is
Anne
Delahanty
, she’s a history professor out at the
college in Lawton.
 
Anne, this is my
friend Gary Russell.
 
He works at the
casino, too.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Gary said with more
enthusiasm than Ned thought necessary.
 
He opened the water and chugged half of it down.

“Yes, it’s my pleasure,” Anne replied as she
settled back into the chair. “I see you’re dancing.”

“Oh, yeah, I love it,” Gary said.
 
From his smile and the way his eyes focused
on Anne’s chest, Ned figured his buddy found the woman attractive too.
 
And most of all, he hated his reaction to it.

“Shouldn’t you be lined up by now?” Ned
growled.
 
Gary shot him a knowing look
and Anne’s lips twitched in a Mona Lisa smile.
 
Then she turned her attention back to the dancers while Gary shook his
head. “Shoot, yeah.
 
I’ll get out of
here, then, buddy.”

“See you later,” Ned called after him.
 
Gary turned around. “Sure, but I may stay
late so if you want to leave before morning, you’d better catch a ride with
someone else.”

The obvious hint hung heavy in the air after Gary
vanished into the crowds.
 
Five minutes
later, Anne turned to him. “If you need a ride home, I’m happy to oblige.”

His skills at flirtation had lain dormant so long
Ned wasn’t sure what to say.
 
His mind
dreamed up various replies but he couldn’t decide what to say.
 
This woman had him smitten, and he had no
idea what the hell to do about it.
 
He
wanted more but he knew he needed to back away after tonight.
 
Ned made up his mind to enjoy this one-time
occasion.
 
He could dream about Anne for
years and remember the sweetness of the evening, and the way she made him feel.

“I might just take you up on the offer. Are you
hungry or anything? I’ll buy you an Indian taco if you want.”

She tilted her head and nodded. “Sure, but get me
two if you don’t mind.
 
I think I’m
addicted to them.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Ned needed time to breathe and think.
 
He headed for the food stands but took a
longer route so he could take a piss.
 
He
hadn’t had blood since Wednesday, the night he met Anne and the need reared up
in him again now.
 
It wasn’t a wild urge
yet, but the gnawing desire was as annoying as an itch.
 
Powwow wasn’t the optimum place to find a
donor.
 
With no alcohol on the grounds,
he’d have to take someone sober unaware and leave them without a clue what
happened.
 
For a second, he considered
using Anne, but rejected the idea.
 
If he
ever did, it wouldn’t be now or from need alone.

He headed out where the RVs and campers lined up
like a modern gypsy gathering, and wandered.
 
If he waited too long, the need would grow and consume him.
 
After a couple of passes around the main
cluster, he spotted a potential candidate.
 
The teenage boy stomped up and down in fancy dress, struggling to fasten
some of the feathers in place but couldn’t reach them.
 
“Here, let me help,” Ned said.
 
He came close, put things right and then bit
down hard on the back of the boy’s shoulder.
 
He didn’t require much and he made it quick. When Ned finished, he
slapped the kid hard. “Damn, that was a monster mosquito.”

“That son of a bitch hurt,” the kid griped.
“Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Ned said.
 
Then he headed over to wait in line for four Indian tacos and a couple
bottles of water.
 
By the time he got
back to Anne, the blood he’d taken satisfied his need and he’d calmed.
 
He planned to enjoy this time with her,
although it’d be the one and only time.
 
Anything after this would be too dangerous, too damaging.

They ate the Indian tacos and Ned savored the spicy
meat with cheese, lettuce and tomato served on fry bread.
 
He enjoyed it more than he had in longer than
he could recall.
 
Food wasn’t a priority,
but it tasted good and he liked Anne’s company.
 
She ate with appetite and thanked him.
 
“Oh, those were good.”

“I’m glad you liked them.” His social skills
weren’t the best.
 
He managed at work and
with friends like Gary but interacting with Anne challenged him. “Can I get you
anything else?”

She waggled her fingers. “A napkin or two would be
great.”

“Sure, no problem.”
 
Ned headed off to bring her some napkins, and took a moment to walk past
the men lined up for the fancy dance.
 
He
caught Gary’s eye.
 
“Hey, man, I’m going
to catch a ride home with Anne.”

Gary shot him a thumbs-up of approval. “Figured you
would and you might as well.
 
She’s
hot.
 
Have fun.”

Ned nodded and moved on.
 
They stayed through the shawl dances and the
fancy dress competitions but it grew chilly beneath the trees.
 
By 10:30, Anne wore the long-sleeved shirt he’d
toted along over her blouse and at midnight, Ned realized although he kept late
hours as a rule, she probably didn’t.
 
“Are
you about ready to head home? It’s getting on past twelve.”

Anne yawned. “I’d love to stay but I suppose I’m
ready when you are.
 
I’m a night owl most
of the time but the fresh air makes me sleepy.”

He stood and folded his chair.
 
Then he wondered if he should leave Gary’s or
haul it home too.
 
Ned debated and
decided to leave it.
 
He offered Anne a
hand. “Come on, Cinderella.
 
We’ll get
going so you can drop me off.”

She stretched as she came to her feet, and without
planning it Ned draped his arm around her shoulders.
 
Anne fit, he thought as they walked toward
the distant parking area.
 
It seemed a
lot farther than when he’d arrived.
 
They
passed Gary’s truck and he asked, raising his voice over the crunch of their
feet on the gravel, “Where’d you park?”

“Way over that way,” Anne replied as she pointed to
the right.
 
 
Ned narrowed his eyes and spotted her blue
Nissan.
 
As a vampire, his night vision
was excellent.
 
“I see it,” he told her.

Together they wound through the tightly parked
vehicles and reached it.
 
Anne pulled the
keys out of her bag and after a moment’s hesitation she thrust them toward
Ned.
 

“Would you drive, please?” she asked.

His fingers wrapped around her key ring. “Sure,
I’ll drive if you want.” He wondered why but didn’t ask.
  
If Anne wanted him to know, Ned figured
she’d tell him and she did once he slid behind the wheel.

“I’m sleepier than I thought and I’d hate to go to
sleep at the wheel.
 
Thanks for driving.”

“No problem.” Ned didn’t mind but he wondered how
she thought she could drive on into Lawton if she feared she’d doze at the
wheel.
 
He maneuvered the sedan out of
the parking area and onto the road.
 
With
more speed than he dared in his old pickup, Ned skimmed along the highway and
appreciated the way the car handled.
 
A
full moon commanded the sky above and bathed the world with magical silver
light.
 
He thought Anne must’ve fallen
asleep because she hadn’t said a word but she spoke up. “Isn’t the moon pretty
tonight?”

“Beautiful.”

“It’s a real Comanche moon.
 
Can’t you just imagine a band of warriors
heading under one to raid and attack?” Anne’s voice sounded drowsy.
 
“I can almost see the war paint on their
faces and ponies.
 
They must’ve been a
magnificent sight.”