Dead Perfect

He told me he was a reporter, but he isn’t, is he?”

“No, he’s a vampire hunter, and not a particularly good one, or he would have been dead long ago.”

Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t…”

“I would.”

She nibbled on her lower lip, then nodded. “I guess it would be self-defense, in a way.”

“It’s the first law of the jungle,” he said flatly. “Preservation of one’s own life.”

“I guess so…” She closed her eyes, suddenly weary.

“Shannah?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you all right?”

“I don’t know. I feel so sleepy all of a sudden.”

“Yes,” he said, “you’re tired. Very tired. You’re going to go to sleep now and dream only wonderful, happy dreams.”

“Happy dreams,” she murmured.

“I’m going to give you something to drink, and it’s going to taste good.”

“Good…”

“But you won’t remember drinking it tomorrow.”

“I won’t remember…”

“Sleep now.”

He waited until her breathing was slow and regular before he bit into his wrist and pressed it to her lips.

Chapter Twenty-One

“So,” Overstreet said, “what do we do now?”

Hewitt shrugged. “Wait, I guess.”

“What do you think she’ll do?”

“I’m not sure. I guess she’ll either pack up and head for the hills or she’ll confront him with what we told her.”

“That could be dangerous,” Overstreet remarked. “What if he decides to dispose of her to shut her up?”

“It’s a possibility, but it was a chance we had to take.”

“Yeah, well, I’d hate for anything to happen to the girl,” Overstreet said, “but I’m more worried about my own neck right now.”

Hewitt nodded. “At least we know that he’s in the house, or somewhere nearby. If she won’t tell us where he sleeps, we’ll just have to go in and have a look around.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Well, work faster. My next column is due soon.”

Hewitt nodded. “I need to get a few things together before we go hunting.”

Overstreet laughed. “Gonna hit the local Vampires R Us store?”

“Something like that,” Hewitt said, grinning. “And then we’ll pay Miss Black another visit.”

Carl Overstreet grinned as he read over what he had written.

Well, dear reader, just a quick update on my search to discover if vampires do, indeed, exist. I know, I know, a lot of you are skeptical, but I can tell you, with absolute certainty, that vampires are real and that they dwell among us. I met a woman who knows one. I, myself, have seen this creature and I can tell you that our vampire is not gaunt and pale. His palms aren’t hairy. Far from it. He looks like any other normal male. My partner in this endeavor is a professional vampire hunter, one who has destroyed vampires in many cities across the land.

Vampires exist, dear reader, never doubt it.

For the real skinny, be sure to read my article next month.

In the meantime, here are a few pertinent facts. If you find disturbed earth or constant mists at a gravesite, disturbed coffins, holes in the ground, footsteps leading away from the grave, or hear a groaning from under the earth, you might want to make sure that the deceased is truly deceased.

Should you find a vampire, a stake through the heart is the most common way to dispose of the creature. Beheading is also recommended, though a bit messy. Sunlight may or may not work, as some ancient vampires are immune. Cremation is effective; the ashes should be scattered.

There are numerous ways said to be effective in protecting yourself against a vampire. They include hanging garlic around the windows and doors and around your neck. Holy water will burn them; it can also effectively be sprinkled around windows and doors and over thresholds.

Staying in after dark might be the best defense of all, as the Undead can’t enter a dwelling place without an invitation.

Until next time, dear reader, watch your neck!

Chapter Twenty-Two

Shannah woke late the next morning feeling bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Sitting up, she stretched her arms over her head and smiled. Slipping out of bed, she pulled on her robe and went downstairs, noting, as she did so, that she felt strong again. Odd, how one day she felt as if she was at death’s door and the next she felt like she could run a marathon. She paused on the steps as a sudden recollection of the bizarre conversation she’d had with Ronan the night before jumped to the forefront of her mind.

He was a five hundred year old vampire.

She frowned as she continued on down the stairs. There was something else, something he had told her that she couldn’t quite recall. It suddenly seemed important that she remember what it was.

Going into the kitchen, she turned on the coffeemaker, then sat down at the table, her chin cradled in her palm. What was it that she couldn’t remember? She closed her eyes, her fingertips drumming on the tabletop. They had been talking about what it was like to be a vampire when a sudden weariness had overtaken her. She had told Ronan she was sleepy and the next thing she remembered was waking up in her bed. Why couldn’t she remember what happened between last night and this morning?

Rising, she poured herself a cup of coffee, then put a couple of slices of bread into the toaster.

When it was done, she opened the refrigerator to get the butter, and saw a bottle of tomato juice. The contents were red. As red as blood…

And she remembered. He had given her his blood last night. And he had told her that he had given her his blood on other occasions as well, given it to her and then wiped the memory of having done so from her memory. She could hear his voice now, in the back of her mind.

I’m going to give you something to drink,he had said, his voice low and seductive,and it’s going to taste good. But you won’t remember drinking it tomorrow.

Frowning, she closed the refrigerator door. Why could she remember what he had said today when she had forgotten it all those other times? How could she ever have forgotten something as gross as drinking someone else’s blood? And a vampire’s blood, at that. She picked up a slice of toast only to find that her appetite was gone. With a shake of her head, she dropped it down the garbage disposal.

A glance at the clock showed it was only a little after eleven. So much for keeping his hours, she thought.