Authors: Elaine Markowicz
CHAPTER SEVEN
I opened my eyes to the sight of Aiden sprawled on the arm chair, sleeping. I wasn't dreaming; he really spent the night. He heard me stir and woke up.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, voice heavy with sleep.
"Besides a pounding head and churning stomach, I feel fine." I jeered. I sat up with a moan, holding my head.
"You need some substance in you." He suggested and stood. "I'll make you some tea and a toasted English muffin." He offered.
"Oh, I don't think I could eat anything." I grumbled.
"You must. You have any orange juice?"
"I might."
"Good. You relax and I'll get it all together for you."
"I think, I'll take a hot shower. It usually helps." I stated and slowly stood. It felt as if someone was slamming a hammer on an anvil. "I normally don't get hangovers." I stated gathering my clothes from the chest of drawers in the living room.
"Baby, you had four glasses of Scotch. That's some pretty powerful stuff. Just what were you trying to forget last night?"
I hugged my bundle of clothes and shrugged. "Nothing." I lied and dragged myself into the bathroom.
I allowed the hot spray to hit me over the head and down my aching body. As I looked down I noticed the water turning red. Blood was swirling around my feet. I slapped my hand at the nape of my neck and pulled away blood. Blood was running down my body and down the drain. It looked like a scene from that old Hitchcock movie
Psycho
. I quickly turned off the shower and stepped out of the stall. Grabbing the towel, I briskly dried myself off. The blood had vanished.
What was happening to me?
When I emerged from the bathroom, I was attired in faded jeans and a baggy, black graphic t-shirt marked with a skull. My wet hair, I pulled up in a ponytail and I was minus the make-up.
Aiden stared at me.
"I know, I look totally different." I groused and sat down at the kitchen table.
"You look like a kid." He teased. He placed two aspirins by the glass of juice and then turned to butter the muffin.
As I nibbled at it, Aiden poured my tea and placed it on the table before me. He then sat down with his own cup of tea.
"I really appreciate your staying but I could have taken care of myself." I stated.
"I didn't mind. But after this cup of tea, I have to get home, shower, and get to work."
"On that case with the prostitute?"
He nodded. "We'll catch this guy." He assuredly stated.
But I doubted it.
*****
I woke from my nap and cautiously answered the door. I sighed, relieved, at the sight of Donnie. I gestured him in and flopped on the sofa, turning on the television. Donnie went in the kitchen and put the kettle to boil.
"You want some?" he called.
"Yeah, why not?"
He prepared two tea balls and set them in the red mugs he lifted off of the mug holder. He came and sat in the arm chair. "Still got a headache?"
"Actually, it's getting better and it's not from the other night. I had too much Scotch to drink last night."
"You sat here, last night drinking?" he asked, surprised.
"No, actually, I went out with Aiden last night. He left a few hours ago. And, no, nothing happened. He was kind enough to look after me as I recouped."
"I'm glad things are working out for you and this guy."
"They're doing okay. Nothing serious."
"But you said you don't sleep with a guy unless it's serious." He threw my words back at me.
"I know." I mumbled. "The kettle's whistling." I changed the subject.
Donnie stood. "I don't blame you; he's a good looking guy. Too bad he's straight."
I clicked my teeth and rolled my green eyes.
I heard Donnie move around in the kitchen as I kept my eyes on the television screen. It was a talk show and they were discussing the recent events with the prostitute killings. They compared it to Jack the Ripper.
Donnie returned to the living room, placing the hot mug on the lamp table for me. He sat back in the arm chair. "It makes one afraid to go out." He commented.
"He only attacks women."
"So far."
"No, these serial killers have a preferential type and that's prostitutes."
"You're starting to talk like your law enforcement boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend. He's a friend." I corrected.
"Whatever." He retorted and sipped his tea.
I changed the channel; looking for something lighter to watch.
"So, are you planning to watch TV all day?"
"I might." I snipped. I deeply sighed. "Actually, I have a new story I'm working on and then my blog. What about you?"
"Jack and I are going shopping."
"Is it getting serious with him?"
"It's definitely something." He salaciously waggled his golden brows.
I shook my head and finished off my tea.
"Maybe, one night, the four of us could get together and do something." He suggested.
"We'll see."
Donnie's cell rang. He slipped it from his jeans' pocket and answered it. He spoke for a few minutes. I gathered it was Jack; whom I had yet to meet. When he finished, he returned the phone to his pocket and stood, gathering our mugs.
"That was Jack. He's waiting for me downstairs."
"When do I get to meet him? After all, you met Aiden."
"Maybe at the club this weekend."
"Is that where you met him?"
"He's a new bartender. It was lust at first sight."
"Get out, Donnie."
He laughed. "Talk later." And I watched him exit the flat.
I finished watching the show, turned it off and reached for my laptop on the coffee table to start working.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jack seemed like a nice guy. He was tall with dark hair and eyes and sported a close-shaven beard. I could see why Donnie was attracted to him. We spoke a few words before I took my pint and moved to the back of the club. I slipped off my coat and hung it on the back of the chair. From its carrying case, I pulled out my red laptop and set it on the table. I then sat down to enjoy my beer and write.
I hadn't written much when I felt that eerie stare coming from the darker spaces of the crowded club. Sipping my beer, I forced myself to go on writing. From the corner of my left eye, I saw another pint of beer be put on the table. I felt the presence beside me. I looked up at a young man with dark hair and piercing gray eyes. He subtly smiled.
"Good evening." He greeted.
I bobbed my head and continued writing.
"My name is Draco."
"That's nice." I dismissed, not bothering to glance at him.
"I've been watching you."
His words prickled my skin. I looked up. He was subtly smiling. He sat across from me and leaning into me said, "You belong to me---Lucy."
Chills ran down my spine. "You!" I hissed, not sure what to do.
It didn't matter. He laughed and seemed to vanish into the crowd. I guzzled down the warm beer and motioned for a barmaid. She picked up the empty pitcher and glass and walked away to get me another.
When I left the club, the wind had picked up. Leaves and debris blew around my ankles. With head down and hands in pockets, I kept a brisk pace down the alley. The street light was just ahead. I quickened my steps. Just about reaching the busy street, I was assaulted from behind. My mouth covered so I couldn't scream. I was dragged back behind the dumpster. His arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I flung my head back, trying to hit him in the chin. It only caused my hair to shift off my shoulder and bare my neck. I gasped as the points of his fangs sunk into my flesh. Images of other women and massive blood flashed through my mind. I wanted to struggle against him, but the bite was paralyzing.
The door to the club banged and people stumbled out laughing and chatting. My attacker let me go and vanished into the night. I stayed close to the dumpster in the hopes of going unseen by the small group of people coming down the alley way.
After they passed, I slowly moved. I was feeling weak and dizzy; same as before. My legs felt heavy and I forced them to move. I was determined to get to the tube. It took me longer than usual but I made it there and down the steps without passing out.
I flopped on a seat and leaned forward, holding up my head with my hands; elbows resting on my knees. My heart was pumping faster than usual. My body trembled. I prayed I'd make it home all right.
When I got home, I went through the usual ritual of shedding my coat, dropping the keys on the table and putting the carry case with my laptop, on the arm chair. I headed for the kitchen and retrieved a beer from the fridge. I popped off the cap, tossed it in the trash bin and guzzled a few mouthfuls of the drink. I missed the Scotch. I plopped on a kitchen chair, drinking the beer, my hand shaking as I held the bottle. I couldn't believe it happened again! I felt weaker, sicker, this time. I was still alive. Though why, I didn't know.
My cell rang and I reached in my pants' pocket to retrieve it. It was Aiden.
"Hello." I tried to disguise my feeble tone.
"How are you doing?"
"Good." I lied. "I just got home from the club."
"It isn't a good idea to be traveling alone and at this hour, these days." He warned.
"I'm okay." I assured.
"Okay, I've got to get back to work. I just wanted to know how you were doing."
"Are you working on that prostitute case?"
"Still."
"Getting any closer to solving it?"
"Unfortunately, no."
"Sorry."
"Well, have a good night and I'll talk to you tomorrow." He bid and hung up.
I hung up the phone. I wondered if they would ever catch this guy/vampire. I was truly beginning to believe it was a vampire. Why did he target me?
I thought about the guy at the club. Telling me, I belong to him. I'm pretty sure it was my assailant.
Finishing the beer, I trudged over to the sofa/bed. Again, I was just too tired and weak to open it into a bed. I pulled off my boots, tossed them aside, and laid down, wrapping myself in the afghan. Sleep did not come easy. The attack played in my head over and over again. It took time for my heart to stop racing. I stirred at every noise, thinking it was the vampire. When I finally did fall asleep, it was a fitful one with disturbing dreams.
CHAPTER NINE
Now and again, I would go to the library to do research. Why the library when I have a massive wealth of information on the internet? To get out of the flat.
While I flipped through text books, taking notes, I heard audible whispers coming from various sections of the room. That was odd that so many people would be talking so loud. I kept picking up bits of conversation between a couple of teenage boys who were using the sanctity of the library to hide their lifestyle. No one knew they were gay. Especially not their parents. I heard some heavy breathing. They were kissing quite passionately and then I heard them softly laugh.
They eventually came out of the aisle of books, looking about surreptitiously and then quickly moved to their table. They noticed me watching them and they froze like deer in headlights. They exchanged anxious glances but soon realized I couldn't possibly know anything from the distance I was seated. They hurried on.
I rubbed fingers to my furrowed brow. Why did everything sound so loud? I tried working on my notes but the strange noises from all over the floor were getting to me. I closed the books, stuffed the notebook in my carry-all case, stood, slipped into my coat, slung the bag over my shoulder and walked out; well, not before I put back the books.
It was dusk when I exited the building. I started down the street. I jumped when a young man stepped into my path. It was the guy from the club; the same one I believed bit me. He wore a sinister grin. It caused goose bumps to my flesh.
"You really shouldn't be walking alone these days." He sneered, snatched me by the shoulders and pushed me down an alleyway.
I couldn't scream. I was immobilized by the hypnotic gleam in his gray eyes. He put his hand on the column of my throat as though he would choke me but gradually moved it to the nape of my neck. I knew what would come next. And, I was right! Fangs gleamed in the dark shadows and a feral growl emitted from his throat. I gasped as he plunged the points of his fangs into my flesh. I heard the blood rushing through my veins; pumping loud and fast. His lips made a sucking noise on my neck as he drew my blood. Flashes of women raced through my mind. I heard their screams, the gurgle of blood in their throats as his fangs tore through their throats. Was I next?
But he stopped, blood dripped off the ends of his canine's and pooled on his lips. He caressed my hair as he leaned against me and said in a husky voice, "You belong to me." And then he hurried down the alley, blending into the shadows.
I remained against the wall, swiping the blood from my neck. What was he doing to me? Why didn't he just kill me? Was it even the same guy that was killing the prostitutes?
As soon as my legs stopped shaking and I was able to walk, I raced out of the alley and headed home.
I plopped on the kitchen chair with a bottle of beer trying to calm myself down. Someone knocked on the door. I got up, tossed the bottle in the bin and cautiously answered the door.
"Aiden!" I breathed, relieved, and threw my arms around his neck. He hugged me back.
I pulled him into the parlor, shutting the door behind us. I lunged myself at him, my lips passionately caressing his. He picked me up, carried me to the living room and laid me on the sofa. He quickly pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. I did the same. I never wanted a man so bad and I don't know what came over me. Aiden laid beside me, kissing me, petting me. I groaned as his expert fingers explored me. We went on like that for a while before he lifted himself on top of me. I clung to his neck as we moved in rhythm, panting and moaning until we climaxed and fell limp in one another's arms.
"Well, hello to you too, Sweetness." He teased as he cradled me.
"It's been a rough few days." I excused. Actually, I didn't know why I reacted that way. It was as if some savage hunger overtook me.
"I'm glad I could be of some assistance."
I tossed him a wry glare and he laughed, kissing me on my sweaty brow.
"You want a beer?" I asked, now sitting up.
He caressed my bare back. "I'd love one after that."
I got up and felt him watching my movements to the kitchen and back. I handed him the open bottle and he took a deep slug of the beer. I leaned back against his clammy skin: skin that smelled just washed mingled with the scent of sex.
"Have you come any closer to breaking the case of the psycho killing those prostitutes?"
"No. This guy must be a Ripper aficionado because he knows how to elude us."
"Does he leave notes?"
"What?"
"Notes. Ripper always left a note to taunt the police."
"No. Listen, Lucy, I don't want you going out at night; especially alone."
"I'm okay. Besides, I'm not his type."
"That we know of yet. This guy is escalating. Killing two girls a week. What's to keep him from starting to kill girls at random?"
"You still don't believe it's a vampire." I hedged.
"I believe he's some sicko that might think he's a vampire. But we both know, the real ones are in fiction."
I wondered.
"Well, I hate to leave my fine woman." He kissed my shoulder. "But I've got to get down to the precinct. This case really has everyone crazy."
I nodded. I didn't mind. I could use some alone time.
He slid to the edge of the sofa, gathered up his clothes and started to dress. I remained, naked, on the couch, watching him cover up that Adonis body, piece-by-piece.
He kissed me on the head, "In case of anything, call me. I'll probably be up all night."
"I will."
"Walk me to the door and bolt it after me."
As if I wouldn't. I got up from the sofa and walked him to the door. He slipped his arms around me and kissed me. "Thanks." He gratefully said in a husky voice that made me want to stay in his muscular brown arms.
He opened the door, enough for him to slip out and I knew he was on the other side listening to me bolt the door. I turned for the bathroom. I needed a shower!