Secrets of the Night Special Edition (107 page)

I plead temporary insanity, Stevie lamented later, working the cash register after the store opened. Julie was right; just touching the keys was like trying to swim through tons of thick molasses. Customers grumbled in the long line that stretched far back from the counter, some tossing their books aside and storming out of the place.

A familiar face in line brightened her morning, the same man who'd helped her pick the books from the floor several weeks ago. Tall and good-looking, he waited patiently, two books and several magazines in his arms, a slight smile on his face. What was his name? Slipping a book into a plastic bag for a customer, she thought hard. Oh, yes. Mark Farrell.

Within a few minutes, his turn came.” Another busy day, I see.” He grinned, setting his books and magazines on the counter, then reaching into his jacket pocket for his wallet.

Struggling to make the impression with his Master Card, she smiled back.” Every day is busy. Good thing, too,” she said as she rang up his books and magazines.” Store would have to close if we didn't have customers.” She slipped his purchases into a plastic bag.” Thank you,” she said as she handed the bag to him.” You're welcome.” His smile cheered her as he walked out, making her job a little more bearable.

With another glance at the long line, Stevie realized it would make for better public relations if Julie manned the register and she returned to stocking books, and never mind what agony that was.

* * *

Hooray, closing time! Doors locked, the sales tallied up, Stevie spoke to Julie by the cash register. She darted a glance outside at the dark, deserted street, dreading the long ride home, wanting to rest with her feet up, drinking a cup of hot tea.

Despite the many aches from her neck to her toes, she mustered a firm voice.” I've been fighting this for months, but I give up . . . for now, anyway. So I'm taking a temporary leave of absence and--"

"Geez, I hate to see you in such pain,” Julie said, lightly touching Stevie's arm.” We all do. But I guess you know what's best.”

While Stevie pushed a few papers to the side, a burning pain shot through her elbow, but she put on a brave face.” Looks as if I don't have much choice. So I'm asking you to take over for two weeks or so--hopefully no longer--and whenever I feel better, I'll be back.” She winked, then reached under the counter for her purse.” You can't get rid of this ogre for long.”

* * *

What was she going to do now? Settled on the sofa with a hot cup of chamomile tea, Stevie gazed out her living room window as the sky turned from lavender to sapphire, and the noises of the neighborhood quieted on her street. With darkness, the temperature fell, and a cold gust of wind riffled the pages of a magazine on her coffee table and sent a frigid draft of air rushing through the room.

Groaning, she eased her feet to the floor, then plodded over to close the window. She buttoned her sweater as she returned to the sofa, telling herself she had to face facts. Could she go back to work after only two weeks at home, as she'd told Julie? Hardly. So what about money? The government loan she'd recently received would fund her college education, but she still had her living expenses, and even though she scrimped on food and everything else--even discontinuing cable TV--her expenses weren't el cheapo. Her savings would pay the rent for the next couple of months. And after that? Zilch. Nada.

She rubbed her fingers across her eyes, so afraid she'd have to apply for unemployment compensation. No matter what, she refused to even consider asking her father for a loan. She'd managed fine so far, and somehow, some way, she'd continue to get by on her own. But how? Rob a bank?

Her throat clotted, and she brushed a tear from her cheek, ashamed of her vulnerability, furious because of her pain and weakness. She'd manage, and if she only gave it more time, she'd get better. Maybe--

"It saddens me to see you in such despair.”

Stevie's head jerked up, and she pressed a hand to her pounding heart.” Galan! How'd you get in?”  Her gaze flew to the front door, deadbolt in place. The back door? No, she remembered locking it, too.” How did you get in?” she repeated.

Galan sat next to her, sliding his arm around her waist.” Shall we make a deal? I'll tell you how I got in if you tell me first why you are so despondent.”

"Had to take a temporary leave of absence from the bookstore. Can't handle the job.” She studied her swollen fingers.” Just can't do it.” She turned away, fighting tears, fearing she'd break down in front of him.

He gathered her in his embrace, turning her to face him.” Oh, my sweet one.” His arms comforted her, but depression still left her in the dumps. Of course she was happy to see him. But how had he gotten in? Like a magician. Poof! Just like that.

"And you need money,” he said in his low, soothing voice, a voice that could melt all the ice in
Antarctica
.” Gladly would I give you whatever you need, no matter the amount.”

She drew back, her gaze meeting his.” I couldn't take money from you. It wouldn't be right.”

"Why not, if I'm willing to give it to you?” 

"Just wouldn't be right.” 

"Then a loan?” 

She flicked her fingers, wincing with the pain.” I don't know when or how I could pay you back. But you haven't answered my question. How'd you get in? Or do you count lock picking among your many talents?” 

"A locked door simply poses no impediment for me.” Galan opened his mouth, then closed it again, and for the first time since she'd met him, he looked uncertain.

"I still don't see--"

"Sweeting, have you never wondered why you see me only at night?”  He tilted his head, his gaze probing.

"Yeah, we were just talking about that the other evening. So tell me why.” 

"I cannot go out during the day. The sunlight would burn me up.”

She nodded, full of sympathy.” Oh, you have one of those skin diseases I've read about. Some people can't be out in the sun, or it does something harmful to their skin. So why didn't you say so in the first place? And what does that have to do with getting inside my apartment when the door is locked?” 

"It's more than the sunlight.” He sighed deeply, as though he carried a world of worries on his shoulders. He touched his face.” Look at my skin. So pale!” 

"Well, sure, if you don't ever go out in the sun.”

For a brief moment, he turned away, then met her look again.” Let me say it clearly. Let there be no more pretense, no more evading the truth.” His hands rested on his thighs as he stared down at the floor, his mouth twisted in a grimace. He opened and closed his mouth, looking as if he'd lost every cent in the stock market. She'd never seen him so rattled.

"I am a vampire,” he said.

Oh, oh. She searched his face, checking for a trace of a smile, anything to show he was joking. But no, the man was serious. What kind of a guy have I been dating? He thinks he's a vampire, and it's not even Halloween.

Stevie laughed.” Come on now. You got a weird sense of humor.” She gave him a close look, playing along with his 'joke'.” Okay, show me your teeth.”

"Don't tell me you believe all that silly
Hollywood
nonsense.” He smiled widely, revealing white, even teeth.” See? No fangs. Only in the movies and insipid Gothic literature.”

Right! She remembered the TV program that said the same thing about vampires, but so what? That didn't prove a thing.” And I suppose you're going to tell me there's a Santa Claus and an Easter bunny, too?” 

"Not at all. I assure you, this is no jesting matter. You must believe me.” He cracked his knuckles.” Remember when I took you to the restaurant, and you stopped to admire the porcelain?” 

"Yeah, I remember,” she said with a sick feeling deep in her stomach. She pressed her hands to her hot cheeks.” But there's a logical explanation . . . something about the light . . .”

"You know it's more than that. Come with me.” Galan rose, gently taking her hand to ease her from the sofa.” Let's go to the mirror in your bedroom.”

There, they stood next to each other, facing the cheval mirror. She could see herself, but she couldn't see him. She glanced at her side to make sure he hadn't moved.

"Hey, how'd you do that?”  She peered behind the mirror to check the backing.” Neat trick! I didn't know you were such a good magician, although I always suspected you knew some magic.”

He raked his fingers through his hair.” What can I say to convince you! Don't you understand? I-am-a-vampire.”

"Sure you are. And I'm the Wicked Witch of the West.”

"Then let me show you something else.” He closed his eyes and frowned, as if in concentration. Then he disappeared.

"Do you believe me now?” he called from the kitchen.

"Oh, my God!” She sank onto the bed, holding her head in her hands, wanting so badly to refute everything she'd seen. The room swam around her, a buzzing in her ears. Grabbing the edge of the bed, she fought her dizziness, her anguish. God, please let this be a nightmare.

In a split second, he returned and stood before her, hands on his hips, speaking with calm precision.” Now what do you think?” 

She wrung her hands together.” Oh, my God.” She lowered her head and breathed deeply.” Ohhh.” Sour bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed hard, willing herself not to throw up.

"Quite so,” he replied with calm assurance, as if he hadn’t turned her world upside down.” So you see me for what I truly am--a vampire, one of the undead.”

Stevie gathered her strength about her, as a mother duck would enclose her ducklings. Sorrow and despair roiled inside her, but anger trumped all other emotions.” You're the one who's been killing the homeless! All those men with their blood drained--"

"No! I swear by all that is holy, I did not kill those unfortunate men. I feed on criminals, but I don't kill them.”

"Well, what do you want? A medal for just feeding on them?  Who's killing them, then? I suppose you're going to tell me there are dozens of vampires in
Miami
.”

"A fairly accurate guess.”

"How can I believe you?”  She gripped the bedspread in both hands.” You've lied to me so--"

"No! Never have I lied to you.”

"Come on, get real. Let's put it this way--you haven't told me the truth, not until now.” 

Galan sat down on the bed next to her, but she slid away. He spoke in a low voice, barely above a whisper.” If only you knew how I wanted to tell you, how it hurt me not to reveal what I truly am.”

"Yeah, I'll bet that just broke your heart.”

"Dearest, you are breaking my heart now.”

"You don't have a heart.”

He nodded, pain and misery on his face.” My heart is not like yours. But this much I tell you, and I beg you to believe me. I never sought my vampirism. It was forced on me whilst I lay drugged and unconscious.”

"And you expect me to believe that?” 

"No matter, it's the truth.”

Stevie shook her head, unwilling to accept all she'd seen and heard this night, scared out of her wits that Galan spoke the truth. But, wait! Maybe her pain medicine gave her hallucinations. Yeah, that was it . . . her medicine.

But if he really was a vampire? Pity for him brought tears to her eyes. If what he said was true about his vampirism being forced on him--and she had to take him at his word--what a horrible burden to bear until the end of the world.

She had to be by herself. It was all too much to take in. No matter that she loved him, she saw no future for them. Better if she broke off with him and never saw him again.

She raised a forefinger to catch a tear sliding down her cheek.” You'd better go now, leave me alone. And I think"--her voice caught--"I think it would be best if we stopped seeing each other. I . . . see no point in it.”

"You need time to get used to the idea. I understand. I'll call you later this week.”

"No! You don't understand. This is goodbye. I don't want to see you again.” She choked on her words, hating herself for speaking to him like this, for hurting him, but she couldn't accept his vampirism. It was all too much. Too much.

The pained look on his face tore her apart, but she faced him unflinchingly, never wanting him to see her heart was breaking.

His face revealed nothing but sadness, his eyes downcast, his mouth contorted with sorrow. After a long moment when charged emotions crackled between them, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.” All the good times we've shared, all those orchids I bought you--they don't count for anything?” 

Silence was his only answer.

"I see.”  A lengthy pause ensued, her heart pounding so hard the beats echoed in her ears.” Goodbye, dear Stevie.”

He left then, as quickly and mysteriously as he'd come. One minute he sat next to her, and the next minute he was gone. She glanced up, anguish and shock clashing inside her, a combination that stiffened her body and made her wonder if she could ever move from the bed.

An eternity passed before she flopped back, wishing she could cry her heart out. It was all a nightmare. If she just pinched herself, she'd wake up. Easing onto her side, she drew her legs up, a tangle of emotions driving her crazy as every thought, every feeling, led to Galan. She'd never stop loving him, but he was out of her life forever.