Night's Master (4 page)

Raphael Cordova was much on my mind the next day. I thought about him while I fixed breakfast, thinking how sad it was that he couldn’t enjoy a good meal anymore. How did Vampires exist without partaking of the finer things in life, like a ham-and-pineapple pizza, or a mug of hot chocolate on a cold rainy night, or chocolate chip cookies warm and fresh from the oven?

After breakfast, I took a shower, dressed in a loose knit gray sweater and a pair of comfy jeans, and left the house.

On the way to work, I made a quick stop at the jewelry store where I bought a pretty silver filigree cross on a sturdy silver chain, as well as a couple of thick silver bracelets for good measure.

Arriving at the bookstore, I read my snail mail, booted up my computer and checked my e-mail, and then spent an hour online reading through various book catalogs and filling out order forms for upcoming releases. The excitement over e-books had faded in the last few years. These days, it was rare for anything other than college and medical texts to be available in electronic format. Print-on-demand books, once hailed as the future golden goose for publishers, had quickly gained prominence, and just as quickly plummeted to obscurity. As more and more people spent more and more time in front of computers, reading electronic media lost its appeal once the novelty wore off. Readers went back to gathering in bookstores, browsing through the shelves, or relaxing in a comfortable chair with a good book and a cup of coffee. Plus, there was nothing quite as satisfying as the smell or the feel of a new book. Of course, books themselves had changed over the years. New, synthetic paper kept the pages from turning yellow with age, spines were more durable, and the new ink didn’t fade. Cover art had become an increasingly sought after art form. There was a big market for original cover art, with some canvases selling for thousands of dollars.

With time on my hands, my thoughts again turned toward Raphael. What was it like to be a Vampire, to sleep all day, to hunt for prey at night? I remembered the hurt in his voice when he talked about the woman he had loved and lost. It was hard to imagine a Vampire having a love life, getting married, sitting around the house watching satellite movies. Or reading Jordan Montgomery murder mysteries, I thought with a grin. I had always thought of Vampires and Werewolves as monsters so consumed with the lust for blood that they had little time for anything else.

Thinking I had a lot to learn, I turned back to my computer and checked the store inventory, looking for anything I could find on Vampires. Nothing came up on the screen, but I knew I had at least one book on the Supernatural. Before moving to Oak Hollow, I had bought up all the stock from a used bookstore that was going out of business. If I remembered correctly, there had been a book on Vampires in one of the boxes.

I finally found what I was looking for. It was at the bottom of a box in the back room, mixed in with a bunch of books I had decided were too outdated or too beat up to put out front.

Book in hand, I poured myself a cup of coffee and settled down in one of the chairs to learn what I could about the care and feeding of the Undead.

In ancient times, Vampires had been blamed for anything and everything that went wrong or couldn’t be explained, whether it was a mysterious illness, a loaf of bread that failed to rise, cows that didn’t give milk, or chickens that didn’t lay eggs.

Fascinating, I thought, and before I knew it, I was caught up in the life and lore of Vampires. The author, Carl Overstreet, had done more than just list the ways to detect and destroy Vampires, he named names. Mara was listed as the oldest living Vampire. It was said that no one living knew how old she was, when she had been made, or who had made her. It was believed that she had been turned in the valley of the Nile during the reign of Cleopatra. It was rumored that she was truly immortal, that she was impervious to blade or stake, and that the sun’s light no longer had any power over her.

I read the name again. Mara. Wasn’t that the name of Raphael’s godmother? Could it be the same woman? I’d have to ask Raphael the next time I saw him.

The book reinforced what I already knew: Vampires needed blood to survive and couldn’t abide the sun’s light. As Raphael had mentioned, the touch of silver burned their skin and weakened their Supernatural powers.

Reading on, I learned that unless they were very old, like Mara, or very powerful, they were rendered unconscious during the day.

Vampires possessed a number of preternatural abilities. They could change shape, influence the weather, dissolve into mist, move faster than the human eye could follow, scurry up the side of a building like a spider, and compel others to do their bidding. It was this last ability that bothered me the most. It was disconcerting, knowing that Raphael could mesmerize me with those beautiful, dark eyes. I had been told that when under hypnosis, you couldn’t be forced to do anything against your will, but we weren’t talking about ordinary hypnosis here, we were talking about preternatural power wielded by Supernatural creatures.

Detecting the Undead was not so easy, which gave me pause to wonder how I had known Raphael was a Vampire when I first met him, or how I had recognized the Vampires he had sent to my shop. Obviously, I had some kind of Vampire radar that had been dormant until recently. Either that, or I’d never come across a Vampire before I met Raphael.

Business picked up a little late in the afternoon. I have to admit, every time the door opened, I felt a flutter in my stomach, even though I knew that, at this time of day, it couldn’t be Raphael.

Just before dusk, Susie McGee and her brood trooped in. The boys headed for the children’s section, punching each other along the way.

“I promised to buy the boys new books if they behaved at the doctor’s office,” she said, leaning against the counter.

“They aren’t sick, are they?” I asked, thinking I had never seen such active, healthy-looking kids in my life.

“No, the appointment was for me. I thought I had a bad case of indigestion. Turns out I’m pregnant again.”

Since I wasn’t sure if this was good news or not, I didn’t say anything.

“I’m not ready for another baby.” She blew out a sigh. “I sure hope this one’s a girl.”

I smiled, but I couldn’t help thinking that a little girl wouldn’t stand a chance against three older brothers.

“So,” she said, changing the subject, “how’s the book business?”

“Picking up a little, but it’s still slow.” It was easy to see why there wasn’t a Borders or a Barnes & Noble in town. The only thing keeping me afloat was the fact that the store was paid for, thanks to a tidy sum my great-aunt had bequeathed me.

“Maybe things will get better in the fall,” Susie remarked. “We get a lot of tourists then.”

“Really? Why?” From what I had seen of Oak Hollow, there wasn’t much to attract visitors.

“Don’t you know? Every autumn our town hosts a big Halloween Haunt. People come from miles around to see it.”

Funny, that hadn’t been in the brochure I’d read.

“It’s held the night before Halloween out at the old Carrick place on Cross Creek Road. They have a pumpkin patch, a really scary haunted house, and games for the kids. They give prizes for the most original costume, stuff like that. It’s really fun.”

Some people believed the Carrick house was inhabited by the ghost of the last man who had lived and died there. It seemed like the perfect place to hold a haunted house. No doubt any Vampires and Werewolves in attendance would feel right at home. I was pretty sure that any Supernatural creatures who showed up would have some really great costumes.

A few minutes later, Susie’s kids came running up to the counter, each one waving a book in one hand and punching the nearest sibling with the other.

As loud and obnoxious as her boys were, the store seemed quieter than usual after Susie and her brood left.

Since I kept the store open until nine on Fridays, I went over to the café a little after five for a quick dinner break. I ordered a turkey club sandwich, curly fries, and a chocolate malt. I know, too many carbs, too many calories, but hey, I deserved it.

While waiting for my meal to arrive, I glanced around the café, wondering if coming to Oak Hollow had been such a good idea after all. A Vampire lived here year-round. At the moment, there were a number of other Vampires in residence, which meant there were probably an equal number of Werewolves somewhere in the vicinity. I wondered if they were having a war council or a paranormal conference of some kind.

Maybe I should just close up the store, sell the house, and leave town.
The idea wasn’t as appealing as it should have been, and I knew Raphael Cordova was the reason.

I read the local newspaper while I ate. Most of the news concerned the new movie theater being built on the south side of town, whether it would have two screens or four, and if it would put the local drive-in out of business. I shook my head. Living in Oak Hollow was like living in the early part of the twentieth century. In a way, I hoped the town and its people never caught up to the present. Since we were pretty much off the beaten path, there wasn’t much crime here; life was slower and more laid-back. The people were open and friendly, and when the baddies weren’t here in number, the townspeople sat outside in the evening, or strolled down the street, stopping to chat with their friends and neighbors.

Several people nodded or waved to me as I walked back to the store. Flicking on the overhead lights, I went behind the counter, thinking maybe I should buy a portable DVD player so I’d have something to do while I waited for those elusive customers to find their way into my shop. I glanced around, wondering if I would attract more customers if I sold homemade fudge or cookies or something equally fattening and irresistible.

I was in the back room, unpacking a box of new releases, when the bell announced that someone had entered the store. My heart did a little tap dance at the thought that it might be Raphael. Running a hand over my hair, I took a deep breath and hurried toward the front of the store.

I knew a moment of disappointment when I saw that it wasn’t my favorite Vampire. This man was fair where Raphael was dark, his eyes were yellow instead of black, but other than that, the two men were of a similar build, although Raphael was a few inches taller, and broader through the shoulders.

My skin tingled oddly as he moved toward me. He was a Were. I knew it immediately, as I had known that Raphael was a Vampire. But the moon wasn’t full, so I figured I was safe enough.

I moved behind the counter. “May I help you?”

“I hope so. I’m looking for a book called
Nocturne
by Xavier Valdez. It’s out of print, but I was hoping you might have an old copy lying around.”

“It doesn’t sound familiar,” I said, “but I can check for you, if you’d like.”

“Thanks.”

I powered up my JG5000 and typed in what I was looking for. The JG5000 was the latest in computer technology. It was small, portable, required no hookup or cables, and the battery lasted for five years. You could talk to it or type in your commands; the JG could respond verbally or display the message on the screen. At home, I liked the verbal commands, but here at work, I used the keyboard.

I typed in the title, and when nothing came up, I typed in the author’s name. “I’m sorry, nothing comes up. Have you tried the library?”

“No luck there, either. Well, thanks for trying,” he said with a shrug. “It was worth a shot.”

“Have you looked on WebNet? You might be able to find a used copy there.”

“Struck out there, too. You’re new in town, aren’t you?”

I nodded. His question proved that he wasn’t. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

“Coming in here wasn’t a total loss,” he said with a dazzling smile. “At least I got to meet you.”

I couldn’t believe it. Except for having dinner with Raphael, I hadn’t had a date in six months, hadn’t met a man who even appealed to me in all that time, and now, in less than a week, I’d met two gorgeous guys, and neither one of them was human. Talk about rotten luck!

“I’m Cagin, by the way.”

“Just Cagin?”

“Joseph, but nobody calls me that.”

“Kathy McKenna.”

“So, Kathy, there’s a pretty lake not far from here. How’d you like to go on a picnic Sunday afternoon?”

“I don’t know…”

“Is it because we’ve just met?”

“Partly.”

“Partly?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t date Werewolves.”

“No problem, then,” he said with a wink, “since I’m not a Werewolf.”

Funny, I’d been sure he was. Okay, so, maybe my Supernatural radar wasn’t all that reliable.

“Come on,” he coaxed, “I promise to be good. I’ll even pack a lunch if you’ll bring dessert.” He glanced around. “I’ll even buy something to sweeten the deal.”

“All right,” I agreed, “but only if I get to pick the book.”

“Done!”

Grinning, I walked to the back of the store and picked up an enormous volume titled
Gunmen and Ghost Towns of the Wild West
. I had ordered it by mistake and had been wondering how I’d unload it, since the supplier refused to take it back.

“
Gunmen and Ghost Towns of the Wild West
,” Cagin said, grimacing as he read the title. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“I don’t know,” I said, stifling a grin. “I guess you could always use it for a doorstop.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“A deal’s a deal, and the price is forty-nine fifty, take it or leave it.”

With a rueful grin, he lifted his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a credit card, which he slapped on the counter. “For that dirty trick, you have to pay the sales tax.”

It sounded like a bargain to me.

I handed him the book and his receipt, gave him my address, and agreed to meet him Sunday afternoon after church.

The rest of the day dragged on by. Long after the sun had gone down, I kept hoping Raphael would come by, but he never did. Maybe he hadn’t enjoyed himself on our date as much as I had, though I had to admit it was one of the strangest dates I’d ever been on.