The Vampire's Curse, A Paranormal Romance (Undead in Brown County #2) (6 page)

Finally, things were beginning to shift into recognizable forms. One vampire on the ground. Another slender vampire kneeling by the fallen. And when I looked up, an enchanting angel standing over me, his green eyes clear and sure. I tore my gaze away from Alex’s face with great difficulty and looked over at Michael.

He was lying on his side, curled up and holding his head in both hands. The ebony strands of his hair were spilling through the gaps between his fingers. He was in agony. He moaned again, a plaintive sound that pierced through the fear he had induced in me only a few moments ago. As the landscape around us became completely clear to me once more, I shuddered.

The urge to try to help Michael was overwhelming, and I crawled forward, casting a quick look at Victoria, who was patiently waiting by his side. Alex hissed a warning at me and moved to intercept my progress, but I glared at him over my shoulder.

“
Don’t, Alex. Give me a minute.”

I did not wait for his reaction. When I reached Michael, I laid one cold hand against his shoulder. He was shaking like a frightened child. Michael just did not do that. I looked up at Victoria in terror, “What happened?”

“
He tried to attack Alex.” She searched for more words, but ended up just shaking her head. She lowered herself closer to him, like a gray dove settling next to her lifelong mate on a bare winter branch. Hesitation gripped me suddenly as I watched her. What was this between them? Some cruel, dark emotion rose inside me, blackening that rosy image I had conjured of Michael and me moving side-by-side in broad daylight. Like a couple.

I had lost something. But what had been there before I destroyed it? Lust? A blooming love, uncertain and shy? No. Something beyond my own comprehension. It was gone then. If I were to try to fight for this elusive lost treasure, would those witnesses turn away to offer some measure of privacy or respect? No. So I determined that it would have to wait. For some other cold place and time.

Slipping a frosty lid over my fragile emotional state, I rose slowly to my feet. I noticed the stray hairs that swept away from Victoria’s cheek and settled on the fabric of Michael’s dark cotton shirt. Like they belonged there.

“
Alex, please help Victoria get Michael back into the caves.” The sound of my voice was bleak. I did not turn to confirm that Alex had heard me. I trudged back to my truck, got behind the wheel, and drove down to the gate. Still closed. Sighing, I started to get out.

Then I saw my mother. She moved very quickly, unhooked the chain from around the post, and swung the gate open without even turning towards me. I didn’t want to see the look on her face anyway. I did not want her to see me, lost and frustrated.

Chapter 6

The trees, fences, mailboxes, and driveways along the road were silent observers to my flight from home. Silent and condemning, it seemed to me. No matter where I looked, I found no solace. Not in the sleepy dark homes that I passed. Not in the music on my old radio. Clapton was singing about how his beautiful blond had been so wonderful. Well, good for her.

As I got closer to town, I saw the neon half-lit sign for Bill’s Bar glowing cheaply in the ebony air of the evening. Perfect. Slowing down, I surveyed the parking lot cautiously. Trevor’s uniquely pimped out black Dodge Ram was not parked in the small gravel lot by the building, so I decided to take a chance. I also saw the dusty hatchback that belonged to my best friend from high school, Kara.

When you go to high school in a small town, you get used to just about everyone you know leaving for college after graduation and not moving back. Nashville is a small town, unlike its namesake in Tennessee. There are not very many jobs to be had around here. All the high-school kids catch the part-time work in the restaurants and gift shops. A few college graduates might get a position managing one of the larger Inns, but for the most part, there is nothing here for college graduates. Therefore, the majority of my friends from high school moved away. Except for Kara.

Kara Beauchamp originally moved into town with her parents and her big brother Matt back in 2002. Their parents were determined to open their own boutique for dogs, selling ridiculous-looking little capes and boots to the upper-class families that make it a point to come down to Brown County several times a year. They called the place Sassy Bitches, a name that raised a huge storm of controversy within the social circles of our little town. Despite the local uproar over the name of the store, the Beauchamps hung on resolutely, and during an off-season slump in sales, Kara’s mom, Carol set up a website and began to sell their products online. It became an overnight success and drew a lot of attention to their tiny little store off Main Street. Kara became an integral part of the business structure, because she knew so much about online marketing. She had decided to stick around Brown County once things really took off. This was great for both of us.

However, when I found out that my Dad was sick and everyone around me was dripping with concern and pity, I began to shut people out of my life. That included Kara. By the time Dad passed away, she and I only spoke when we ran into each other by chance at the grocery store. Those had been awkward, hasty conversations that always made me feel like a complete shit for slamming the door so suddenly on our friendship.

As I sat in the parking lot of Bill’s, I considered not going inside. This was just another relationship that was messed up in my insignificant little world. I was not really in the mood to try to fix anything. However, for some reason, I pushed away the doubts and fear. I found a parking space around the corner from the main entrance, pulled in slowly and put the truck in park.

Grabbing my wallet, I stepped out of the truck into the chilly night air and took a deep steadying breath. It was going to be okay. I’ll just have a drink or two and then go home. No problem, I thought.

When I opened the heavy wood door, a rush of noise and cigarette smoke assaulted me. Somebody was playing Metallica on the jukebox that glowed in the corner between groups of talking people. There were small explosions of laughter here and there. One of the waitresses was serving pitchers of beer to a group of guys by the pool table.

I looked to the bar where the owner, Bill Gibson, was deep in conversation with the high-school football coach. Bill’s grim expression and the shaking of his head indicated that Coach Morton had probably just been cut off from the Jack and Cokes he reportedly had too many of each night.

There were a few empty bar stools. I chose one closest to the door in case I needed to make a socially unacceptable hasty exit. I had not seen Kara yet, but I had only gone over the crowd for a second to make sure that Trevor was not there. It was always possible that one of his friends might have driven him to the bar. Or one of the dozen or so clueless women who imagined that he was telling the truth when he said he loved them.

“
You’re not twenty one yet.” Bill teased gently, snapping me back from my bitter musings. He came over to me with a towel draped across one shoulder. My Dad had been friends with Bill since they had been in grade school together. Both of them had grown up here. A year after my Mom left us, Bill’s amazingly sweet wife, Kathy, had died from breast cancer. It was the kind of loss that draws old friends together in hard times.

“
According to my birth certificate, I’m twenty three,” I replied with a faint smile, “But a lot of times I feel like a forty year old.”

He grinned and shook his head, “You have no idea, kid.”

“
How have you been?” I asked.

He shrugged and pulled a couple beer mugs from the shelf over his head, “Up and down. Waiting for the fall rush, like everybody else. What do you want to drink, Sarah?”

“
I’m thinking it’s a night for hurricanes.”

Bill’s dark eyebrows rose, “You sure about that?”

I thought about everything that had happened in the last few weeks. The pain, the confusion, the on-going crush of anger. I nodded with a sigh and slid my credit card across the smooth surface of the bar, “Start me a tab, Bill.”

Halfway through the first Hurricane, I felt my arms and legs go heavy with the amount of alcohol beginning to flow through my bloodstream. Having not made a habit of ingesting alcohol on a regular basis, it hit me rather quickly. By the time I finished the second one, Bill had confiscated my keys, and the guy sitting next to me had begun to chat me up. Unfortunately, he was pretty disgusting and three times as drunk as I was.

“
Sarah?”

I turned a little too fast on the barstool and almost took a nosedive into the lap of the guy next to me. Instead, I ended up half off the stool and hanging precariously onto the edge of the bar. Kara was standing behind me with a familiar smirk on her face.

“
Hi Kara!” I lurched forward and grabbed her up in a big bear hug, “It’s so good to see you!”

“
Gee, are we a little drunk tonight?” She wiggled her carefully plucked red eyebrows at Bill, who shrugged and chuckled.

“
I am
not
drunk.”

“
Bill, did you take this girl’s keys yet?”

He held them up with a pinky finger, “You going to drive her home?”

Kara regarded me doubtfully as I grinned at her. She was my best friend. I just loved Kara. A couple times during our senior year, we skipped our last class of the day and went to the park by the school to trade sips from her Dad’s flask of Bacardi while we talked about her latest boyfriend. Those were the days.

“
I’ve missed you so much.” I noticed with a vague sense of hilarity that my words kept coming out slurred. I giggled at myself and grabbed Kara by the arm, “Let’s play pool!”

“
Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

I turned my head to the tall guy who had spoken. My mood plummeted almost immediately. Son of a bitch.

Kara rolled her eyes, “Oh, shit. Here we go.”

Trevor Kincaid was eyeing me with a mix of pleasure and derision. Rob and Dave Miller were apparently his wingmen for the evening. The Miller brothers were notorious party boys even though Rob was technically married with three kids. That did not exactly stop him from flirting, but it should have kept him from picking up younger women on the side when his wife of twelve years was sitting at home, miserable and tired after a long day working as a sixth-grade teacher. I had always felt a particular revulsion to Rob ever since he had made up a rumor about me performing a sexual maneuver on him when we were still in high school. He was essentially a pathological liar. Therefore, he and Trevor were perfect BFF’s.

Stepping up to Trevor, I poked him hard in the chest with my index finger, “You picked the wrong night to come to this bar, asshole.” I hiccupped loudly.

“
Sarah, don’t go there.” Kara whispered.

“
Oh, I
want
to go there. This guy here, he’s a complete fucking loser.”

Trevor chuckled and gripped my hand to stop my poking, “Chill out, Sarah. No need to stir up trouble.”

“
Damn, bitch. Just let it go.” Rob said.

“
And
you
.” I wrenched myself away from Trevor, loser-asshole-of-the-world, to take on Rob, cheating-lying-piece-of-crap-with-a-bald-head dude, “Where’s your wife tonight, Rob? Sitting home alone
again
while you pick up sluts to bang in your truck? Tell me this. When Tracey finally gets her head out of her ass, takes the kids, and leaves your sorry ass, where do you think you’ll be? Alone in a bare apartment with nobody to talk to except the anonymous bitches you hit up on the internet.”

“
You stupid little country fuck…” He countered.

“
Brilliant comeback, Rob.” I giggled. Yes, he was a
genius
.

“
We’re leaving now.” Kara announced, dragging me to the front door. I wanted to stay and finish my Hurricane. I wanted to kick Rob in the balls and smack Trevor. However, when the chilly night air struck me, I wobbled weakly and leaned against the brick wall near the door. It was so cold out there. In addition, my stupid legs were not working right.

“
Are you going to throw up?”

I shook my head, which made me giggle, because everything looked strange when I moved like that. I heard Kara sigh in frustration and then the jingle of her keys, “Look, I’m parked three blocks down by the shop.
Do not
go anywhere.” She held my chin in her hand for a second, “Sarah? You heard me, right? Don’t go back in the bar. I’ll be right back to pick you up.”

“
Oh, sure.”

When I heard her heels clicking away into the distance, I looked around and noticed things seemed unusually quiet. I staggered across the sidewalk towards the curb and belched. That was when the door opened behind me, and the silence in the street was destroyed by the laughter, music, and pandemonium that echoed from the bar.

“
I think we need to talk.”

Great, I thought. Trevor again. Another belch tried to make its way up from my stomach.

“
You shouldn’t be talking to me at all.” I said, trying to sound serious.

Things changed. Trevor’s face, the energy around me, the air itself. He reached out and grabbed me around the waist, yanking me away from the front of the bar and into the alley that ran back towards the parking lot. I fought him. I scratched, kicked, and even ripped the pocket on his designer-label shirt when I tried to twist away from him.