The Vampire's Curse, A Paranormal Romance (Undead in Brown County #2) by Wright S.J

Author:Wright, S.J. [Wright, S.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-06-29T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9 - Michael

Freedom. It is such a little word. When men say the word, they know nothing about the true meaning. Perhaps if a man has been locked up for 65 years, he may comprehend the enormity of the concept. When I staggered down that quiet country road and met no invisible shield to hold me in, it was a rebirth.

For a fraction of a second, I recalled the sight of Sarah lying in that bed. Her helplessness, her tangled hair, the blood rushing forth. I tried not to remember that other girl, the one in New York, bleeding out on the pavement as Isaiah’s guards descended on me. If they had not come, she would be alive, I assured myself. But perhaps not. I was not known for my mercy at that time. I also knew that resurrection of my past misdeeds was always destined to cause misery.

Instead of berating myself for past wrongs, I focused on my most pressing need.

Just when I spotted an elderly woman making her way towards her mailbox near the end of the road, a dark sedan came speeding up towards me. It came to a screeching halt next to me on the cold pavement. Victoria.

“Michael, get in.” She had the window rolled down, and I could see the cooler in the backseat. There would be bags of cooled blood inside. I cast one yearning glance towards the warm-blooded human staring at us suspiciously from her dirt driveway. One human death in a town of this size would draw a great deal of unwanted attention.

Resigned, I climbed into the passenger seat beside Victoria. Before she took off, she reached behind her, shoved the lid of the cooler aside, and threw three full bags of blood into my lap. Without a word, I ripped the cap from the first one and sucked it down. It rolled down my throat like sweet syrup, the coppery taste infusing me with power that I felt in every cell of my body.

“You must have found Meekah.” I mumbled.

She nodded, her eyes fixed on the road with precise concentration. “She’s waiting for us in Chicago.”

Meekah was one of my special projects from long ago. During one particularly hot summer I spent in Paris, I heard a rumor from another vampire about a young girl who could foresee the future. It was July of 1746. I’d been carousing drunkenly with a group of ambassadors from England for several months and was growing weary of them all, when I discovered, quite by accident, that there was a vampire posing a representative of Spain in Paris. One of the English fellows related to me an unremarkable story about how this pretender kept odd hours. When I pressed him for further information, he relayed to me that the Spanish ambassador was rumored to be a creature of the night and had drained two kitchen maids of their blood.

I was not pleased. It was ridiculously sloppy for a vampire to have exposed himself in such a way.

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