Call of the Vampire (2 page)

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Authors: Gayla Twist

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Young Adult, #Vampires

BOOK: Call of the Vampire
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There was something about his appearance that tugged at my memory. Something my great grandmother had said from her wheelchair at the old age home during one of her clearer visions into dementia. “Their eyes. So gray. So lost. They all have gray eyes,” she’d said, clutching my hand. “I tell you, Lettie. Every single one of them has eyes as gray as the North Sea.” Lettie was her younger sister, the beauty of the family, who ran away from home as a teenager and was never heard from again. I was supposed to look a bit like her, just without the beauty part. My great grandmother, along with her sister, had worked as a maid at the Vanderlind Castle for a short time when she was young. Of course, that was before the Vanderlind family cut themselves off from the world. Granny left the post abruptly right after Lettie ran away, and she would rarely talk about her time there until her senility set in. And then, for some reason, it became a source of fixation.

“I think he’s a Vanderlind,” I’d said quietly, tugging Blossom away by the arm.

“Really?” She whipped her head around to check him out in greater detail, but he was gone.

For the next couple of days, Blossom mentioned the handsome Vanderlind boy about every twenty minutes, calling him her “dreamboat” and wondering how she could run into him again. He was remarkably good looking in that chiseled marble statue sort of way. Fortunately, a few days later, one of the best players on the varsity football team started calling Blossom to chat. Football season had just started, but the team was doing reasonably well, so she refocused her energies and let the whole dreamboat thing drop.

“We should go say hi.” Blossom gripped my hand with the intent of dragging me over to the receiving line.

“Are you nuts?” I hissed at her. “That’s the last place we need to be. Forget about Dreamboat. We need to work on blending in.”

Even as the words left my mouth, I felt the handsome book-lover’s eyes tick in my direction. He stared at me. I stared back. I wanted to look away. I knew I was being indiscreet, but he was just so handsome. It was like gazing at an old photograph of a silent film star. The older brother noticed our connection. He leaned to one side and whispered something to the young woman on his left. Her eyes quickly found me in the crowd. “Not good,” I mumbled to myself. “Come on,” I said to Blossom. I didn’t have time to explain what was happening, so instead I said, “I need to find the ladies room.”

Say what you will about Blossom, she may have been boy crazy and as changeable as the weather in March, but she was a loyal friend. Announcing a need to use the ladies could not be ignored, no matter how many attractive men were floating around the room.

My heart was pounding in my chest like the beat of some rave song at a hip club in New York as we made our way across the large room in the direction of what I hoped was some sort of bathroom facility. I was alarmed, but getting caught wasn’t really the thing that had me in a panic. I hadn’t said anything to Blossom when we saw him in the library, but right as I was pulling her away, the gorgeous junior Vanderlind had looked up and made direct eye contact with me. I don’t know what it was about the guy, but when our eyes met, I felt something in my body twang like there was a harp string running through me and someone had plucked it.

Seeing him again, when his eyes met mine, I felt that same tingling vibration. It was exhilarating and painful and made me excessively nervous all at the same time. I was not the kind of girl who believed in soul mates or love at first sight or any of that nonsense, but there was something about the boy that made me yearn in a way that I couldn’t explain. I took a large gulp of my champagne and tried to calm down.

The room we were standing in was probably called the great hall or something like that. It was enormous, after all. So big, in fact, it couldn’t be illuminated by just one giant crystal chandelier. There were actually two chandeliers, and they were both the size of a NASA reentry capsule returning a crew of astronauts to earth. I had always pictured the inside of Vanderlind Castle as dark and as gray as the stones that formed its exterior, but that was not the case. The interior walls were made of bricks that were a pale sand color with flecks of gold. I had to assume that wasn’t part of the original castle. Nor was the electricity or the large glass wall with sliding doors that led onto the patio and the river. But who could blame them for wanting to modernize?

Blossom finished her glass of champagne and signaled another waiter. “Slow down,” I told her in a low voice. “Don’t get too crazy.”

“Why not?” she shrugged. “I thought you said you had to use the ladies.”

“I do. I’m just not sure where it is,” I replied, which was a half-truth.

A waiter approached us, his tray filled with goblets of red wine. When Blossom extended her empty coupe glass toward him, he took a half step backwards and said, “You don’t want this, I’m sure. Better stick to the champagne.”

“That was rude,” Blossom said as the waiter turned to serve other guests.

“He’s probably right. Does red wine even taste good after champagne?” I wondered, placing my hand to my cheek.

Blossom gave me an annoyed look, glancing meaningfully at my hand until I lowered it. “Let’s mingle,” she said, scoring a glass of bubbly off another waiter as he went by. I’d lost track of how many glasses she’d already drunk.

The party guests were all dressed very elegantly. Mrs. Coster’s gowns were nice, but mere rags compared to the elaborate finery most of the people were wearing. The men were all in tuxedos, many of them cut in the old style. There were boutonnieres, pocket squares, several top hats, and a few men even carrying walking canes. The women were dripping with jewels and clad in gowns that seemed to move like rippling water. The whole scene reminded me of the song
Puttin’ on the Ritz
. It was like we’d snuck onto the set of a high budget movie.

“Is it you?” a low voice said very close to my ear, practically making me leap out of my skin. “Colette?”

I gave a startled gasp and jumped back an inch, nearly spilling my champagne. It was him. The beautiful boy from the library. And he was peering into my face with such a serious, penetrating look that it made my heart skip a beat.

“Happy birthday!” I blurted, raising my glass of champagne and hoping it wasn’t actually a graduation party or something like that.

“It is you,” he said, stepping even closer, his cheeks flushing with happiness. A smile broke across his face that made his eyes twinkle. “I knew it. I knew you’d come back to me,” he said, sweeping me up in his arms and crushing me to his chest.

 

Chapter 2

My world was spinning. I knew this boy had the wrong idea and had mistaken me for someone else, but for that frozen moment in time, I didn’t care. I just wanted to be in his arms, feeling the strength of them as they lifted me from the floor as if I was as light as a doll.

“Easy there, Tiger,” Blossom said, tugging on the guy’s shoulder until he set me gently down. “I’m Blossom, by the way. And this is Aurora.”

He frowned, taking a half step back to look me over more closely. “Aurora?”

“Yeah, her mom’s nice, but she’s got a bit of that stink of hippie,” Blossom said, making me want to strangle her. She had a lot of room to talk with a name like Blossom.

“I’m sorry,” he said to me, his face returning to a look of brooding. “For a moment there, I thought... The way you...” he vaguely gestured with his hand toward my face. “Sorry, I mistook you for somebody else.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “I wish I was somebody else.”

This made him laugh. Just a short breath of laugh with bitterness behind it. Then remembering his manners, he said, “My name is Jessie Vanderlind.” He searched my eyes for a moment before adding, “I apologize. I guess we don’t know each other after all.”

“Don’t apologize,” I said. “We’re the ones who should be apologizing to you.”

That’s when Blossom gave me a little pinch and said between gritted teeth, “Shut up, Aurora.”

Ignoring her, I continued. “We weren’t actually invited. I’m afraid we snuck in, and I’m sorry. We just wanted to see what it was like in your beautiful home. It was really rude of us.” He just kept staring at me with his fathomless gray eyes, so I added, “We can leave now, there’s no reason to call security or anything.”

“You must leave,” he said in a low, urgent voice as if he was afraid of being overheard. “Immediately. Come.” He extended his hand toward me. “I’ll find a way to get you out.”

He grabbed me by the hand and was turning to lead us somewhere when his movements were blocked by the man he’d been standing next to in the receiving line. “Don’t hurry your friends away so soon, Jessie,” the guy said. “Introduce us.”

“The girls were just leaving, Daniel,” Jessie replied in a tight voice.

“Nonsense, they should stay,” the older guy said, beaming. “What’s a party without a few gate crashers?”

The newcomer looked a lot like Jessie in the way that brothers can. They were about the same height and had the same dark, silky hair, but where Jessie was full lipped and handsome, Daniel had a sharp face and thin lips. I guess he would have been considered handsome by most people, but he didn’t have a kind face. He looked a bit too much like a hungry hawk for me to feel at ease.

“No, that’s all right,” I said, blushing. I was feeling so embarrassed, I wished there was a moat so I could jump into it. “We should go.”

“I insist,” the young man said. Then, giving his brother a very steady look, he added, “I really think leaving now would be a mistake. Don’t you, Jessie?”

“Please stay and enjoy yourselves,” Jessie said, giving me a thin smile before releasing my hand. His hands were cool against mine, but there was a lingering tingling with heat behind it from where he’d touched my skin.

“She’s not Colette,” Daniel said in a harsh whisper as the two of them walked off.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean...”

Daniel cut his brother off with, “They’re here now. You need to let it go.”

“He. Is. Gorgeous.” Blossom sighed, downing the contents of her coupe glass and eyeing the departing Jessie.

“We should leave,” I whispered, blinking rapidly.

“Don’t be stupid,” she told me. “Now that we’re officially invited and everything, we should definitely enjoy ourselves.”

I just stood there, unable to move. My heart was racing, and for some reason, I had the sudden impulse to cry.

“Aurora?” Blossom goosed me in the side.

“What?” I broke out of my reverie, forcing back my tears.

“I said we should enjoy ourselves. Let’s get more champagne.”

I don’t know what it is about an open bar, but it makes people go a little crazy. The crowd that had been so elegant and reserved when the party started was growing increasingly noisy and boisterous. Blossom was swilling down champagne like it was water. I, on the other hand, decided to stop drinking. I wasn’t all that interested in getting drunk, even when I was at a party where I knew lots of people. Getting smashed in a room full of strangers didn’t sound like a bright thing to do.

“Hello, beautiful girls.” A handsome man somewhere in his thirties approached us. He was dressed impeccably, with a purple flower in the lapel of his jacket. His blond hair was slicked back like Errol Flynn’s. “You’re drinking champagne, I see.” He was casually holding a goblet of red wine. His words had the hint of a European accent, like a lot of the guests at the party.

“You bet we are.” Blossom clinked her glass against his. “Cheers! This is such an awesome party!” She polished off her drink and then scanned the room for a waiter.

“You’re glass is empty,” he observed. “Let me get you another one.”

“No, thank you,” I said. “I think we’ve had enough.” I knew I sounded uptight, but I didn’t like the way the guy was leering at Blossom like she was a big slice of cake.

“One more won’t kill you,” he said, waving away my rejection and laughing a little to himself. “Oh, I just don’t see a waiter right now. Too bad.”

“Loosen up,” Blossom growled at me. “It’s a party.”

“You should take your friend’s advice,” the stranger told me. “Who are you two here with, by the way?”

“Jessie invited us,” Blossom slurred.

“Well, Jessie has good taste.” He leaned in, confidentially, “Are you his particular friends?”

“Not really,” Blossom snorted. “We really only just met.”

“How delightful,” he said, his lips curling into a closed-mouth smile, making his already handsome face even more attractive but also a bit sleek like a snake. “I would very much like to get to know you better. But first, let me see if I can get you more champagne.”

“He’s so cute,” Blossom said in a loud whisper, leaning on me slightly as our new friend disappeared in the crowd. “There are so many hot guys here.”

“I don’t know. There’s something kind of creepy about him,” was my assessment.

“Yeah, I hate good-looking men that flirt with me and bring me alcohol,” she sneered.

But something wasn’t right. I mean, we were both obviously in high school. Guys in their thirties don’t get teenage girls alcohol unless they’re looking to lower the girls’ inhibitions. My mom was a therapist, and she specialized in helping girls who had been through trauma. The nature of her job, along with my friendship with someone as reckless as Blossom, made Mom a little paranoid. She’d been schooling me on how to take care of myself since I could remember. One very important lesson she’d tried to teach me many times over was never let a stranger get you a drink, even if it’s just a coke.

“Here you are,” the debonair man said, returning with two glasses of champagne, even though I’d said I didn’t want one, and another goblet of wine for himself.

Blossom took her coupe eagerly, but I said, “No, thank you.”

“Oh, come on,” he insisted, pushing the drink toward me so that I either had to take it or let it spill on my gown. “Live a little.”

“Here’s to enjoying life,” the man said, lifting his glass of red wine in the air while looking Blossom square in the eyes. I raised my glass as well and pretended to take a sip, but never actually put my lips on the rim.

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