DraculaVille - New York - Book One (3 page)

Without thinking, she crawled to his side and rested a hand on his chest. He sighed and closed his eyes. She blinked, losing the mesmerizing connection. Her shoulders slumped and nausea returned. Then her phone rang.

She scrambled around in the trash and found her purse, extracting her phone. “What? What?”

It was Gerri. “Dear Lord, Tal. Are you okay? I’ve been calling you all night. Where are you?”

Talia sank backward in relief. Gerri was still her friend. A good friend.

“I’m sorry, Ger. I was a bitch. Please forgive me.”

“Of course, you idiot. I know a drunken pity party when I see one. Now, where are you?”

“I need help. Can you get a cab and come to the bar? I’m in an alley beside of it.”

Gerri screeched, “Did someone attack you?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. Bring your medical kit. And hurry.” She pressed END and turned to the huddled lump of darkness.

“I’ve got a friend coming. She’s a nurse. At least let her help you if you won’t go to the hospital.” She reached toward him. “You don’t want to die here. Trust me. If you still want to die later, I’ll take you somewhere nice—a cute little flower bed in Central Park. How’s that?”

A soft chuckle rumbled from the man. “You’re funny. I like that.”

She strained her eyes to peer at him in the dim light. He unfolded and reached for her. Breathing a sigh of relief, she took his hand and pulled him from the dank, foul corner. His ice cold fingers chilled her skin, and she caught a flash of red on his white shirt. Blood.

“What happened? Do you remember?” She helped him into the alley. He cringed from the street light, hunching a shoulder in its direction. He wore what used to be a nice charcoal pinstripe suit. Burberry unless she missed her mark. Dark hair hung over his eyes in matted clumps.

“Not really. I think I was in the bar having a drink. It was late and I’d had too much. I remember someone offering to get me a cab, and then the rest is blank.” He glanced at her, those eerie eyes glowing against the paleness of his skin. “But there’s blood on my shirt…and…I feel weak, very weak.” Emphasizing his words, his legs started to buckle.

She wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him upright. “Whoa, steady now. We need to make it to the street so my friend can find us.”

She limped, bobbing on one heelless shoe and holding him tightly against her. The coldness of his body seeped through the material of his suit, and she shivered. Poor guy. He was nearly frozen to death.

They didn’t have to wait long before a yellow taxi pulled to the curb. Gerri’s anxious face plastered the back passenger window. She jumped out as soon as the vehicle stopped, hurried to Talia, and threw her arms around her.

“Are you all right? You look like a hellish mess.”

“Yes, yes, but let’s get out of here.” Talia jerked her head to her companion.

“He’s coming with us?” Her friend wrinkled her nose.

“I’ll explain, but let’s go.” She reached for the car door.

“So, who is this?” Gerri got in, squashing them together in the back seat.

“I don’t know.” She glanced at her alley buddy. He sat hunkered, head on his chest and leaning against the door. Talia gave the driver her address then turned to her friend.

Gerri elbowed her in the side. “What’s going on?”

“I think he was attacked. He doesn’t remember anything. Maybe he has amnesia.”

“He should go to the hospital.”

“No,” said the man.

“What are you going to do with him?” her friend asked.

“I thought you could check him out. See what’s wrong. Then we’ll know what to do.” Talia took Gerri’s hand causing her friend to give her an odd stare. She couldn’t explain the strange sense of camaraderie she felt for this stranger who’d shared her garbage humiliation. Even here in the car, she experienced the undeniable tug to be next to him, to protect him. She could also catch a hint of his pain and weakness. What sort of strange connection ran between them?

“You don’t know anything about him,” Gerri whispered in her ear. “He could be dangerous.”

“I’m not going to harm you, or anyone.” The man’s voice snaked out, low and soothing, strangely inviting. He sat a bit straighter and faced them. The lights of the city at night flashed white, green and red across his angular, pale cheeks.

“Sorry,” Gerri mumbled. “But it
is
a peculiar situation. You can't deny that.”

He settled in his corner, head down.

Talia squeezed Gerri’s hand, hoping she wouldn't ask more questions. She had no answers. It was unreasonable to bring home a strange man she’d met in a dark alley, but she couldn't explain her unusual attraction.

They remained silent the rest of the trip to Talia’s apartment. It was a struggle to extract the nearly limp man from the backseat, but they managed. When they had his arms draped over their shoulders to support him, they headed into the building. She was thin but thankfully tall, so she held him mostly upright.

Talia called to the doorman as they passed the reception desk, “Hi, Pete.”

He stared at them, a look of alarm rising in his eyes. “Are you all right, Miss Quinton? You look like you’ve been in a fight.”

She stood straighter under the weight of the man. “Sure, I, uh, slipped off a curb and fell. Broke my shoe. My, um, friend had a little too much to drink. We’re fine, though. Could you just, um, get the elevator?”

Pete came from behind his desk, called the car and stepped inside to punch the five button. He continued a disapproving glare, and rubbed a finger under his nose while they hoisted their burden into the car.

“Whew.” Talia and Gerri fell against the back of the elevator with the man between them. He groaned and lifted his head.

“You can make it a few more steps,” Talia urged as the doors opened on her floor.

He managed to move his legs enough to stagger to her door. She fumbled with her keys, found the one she wanted, and threw open the door. They lowered him into one of the chairs at her dining room table, which was the closest seat. He blinked and covered his eyes at the bright overhead light.

“Let’s get his coat and shirt off so we can see if he’s injured.” Gerri stripped the jacket down and removed his arms from the sleeves.

Talia started unbuttoning his shirt. He remained mostly limp, but at least he held his head high and gazed about the room. His strange amber eyes squinted against the light.

They got his shirt off. Talia shared a look of surprise with Gerri. Their new friend was buff with a capital B. He sported taut, defined abs and muscular arms, though he seriously needed a few dates with a tanning bed.

Gerri retrieved her stethoscope and placed it on his back then his chest while Talia went into the kitchen to grab a roll of paper towels and a bowl of warm water. While there, she popped two aspirin in her mouth, and chugged a glass of cold water. It was good to get the taste of stale vodka and olive throw-up out of her mouth.

In the dining room, she swiped at the dark red blood crusted on the left side of his neck. She dabbed tentatively at first, expecting to uncover a huge gash. When she had cleaned his neck, she only found two small holes.

She frowned and stood. Gerri stared at her with wide eyes, jaw dropped.

“What?” Talia asked.

“There’s…I can’t find…” She held up the end of the stethoscope. “He doesn’t have a heartbeat.”

Chapter 4

“He has no pulse.” Gerri draped the stethoscope around her nape and crossed her arms.

The man looked at her friend and touched the puncture holes on his neck. “What happened to me?”

Talia raked fingers through her bangs. “We should check his coat. Maybe he has some identification.”

She joined her friend in searching his coat pockets. Gerri pulled out a wallet, and Talia found a folder with plane tickets.

“Ah ha. Looks like you flew to New York from San Diego three days ago.” Talia flipped through the papers in the folder. “The name on the ticket is Drake Edwards.”

He frowned, showing no light of recognition.

“The wallet’s empty except for a driver’s license.” Gerri held it up.

“So somebody attacked and robbed you.” Talia went to his chair. “Don’t you remember anything?”

He shook his head. “I’m so tired, and I think I’m hungry.”

“That’s it. You need to eat. Who knows how long you’ve been lying in that alley. Do you want coffee? I need some for sure.” Talia headed for the kitchen.

“No. No coffee.”

“Come on, let’s see what she can find to feed you.” Gerri took his arm, and they shuffled along behind Talia. “I see no injuries other than the holes on your neck, so you may just be weak from lack of food. You could have been unconscious for a while.”

Light from the dining room filtered into the kitchen providing a soft illumination that seemed easier on Drake’s eyes. He studied the room as Gerri settled him on a bar stool at the island.

Talia opened her refrigerator, staring at the contents. “How about eggs?”

Drake grimaced. “No.”

“Salad?”

He gagged and shook his head.

“I know.” She retrieved a steak wrapped in plastic. “A nice thick, juicy rib eye. No man can resist that.”

Before she could shift or think, Drake moved with lightening speed to grab the package from her hand. He ripped off the plastic and bit into it over and over. A slight growl reverberated from his throat.

Talia stared at him, mouth gaping. The light from the open refrigerator made his pale skin glow like a blue tinged iceberg. He looked up, the mangled meat held in his hands before his face. He blinked several times then placed the remains of the steak on the counter and slowly backed away.

“Okay, what was that?” She planted her hands on her hips.

Gerri went to the counter and glanced at the rib eye.

“I don’t know.” Drake licked his bloodied fingers. “It looked really good.”

“You sucked the blood out of it. You didn’t eat the meat.” Gerri glanced at Talia, brows raised.

“Blood.” Drake nodded eagerly. “Yes, that sounds like what I need. Sounds delicious.”

“Blood?” Talia slammed the door to the refrigerator.

“Tal, I’m getting a really bizarre idea here.” Gerri tossed the pale steak in the trash.

“No kidding.”

“I must be crazy to suggest this, but look at his neck.” She pointed to the twin holes. “A bite mark. He has no heartbeat and he’s craving blood. It’s insane, but it’s the only thing that makes any sense.”

Talia studied Drake. Some flicks of blood marked the pale skin around his lips, and his amber eyes pulsed an eerie glow.

“Let me see your teeth,” Gerri said, walking to his side.

He eyed her warily, but made no move to stop her from lifting his upper lip. She drew in a quick breath and stepped back. “Oh, my God.”

Talia followed and moved his lip up. His incisor was elongated and sharp. She checked the other side and found the same thing.

“This is…impossible.” She stepped away, wrapping her arms around her stomach.

“What’s wrong with my teeth?” Drake sat on the stool, his momentary flash of energy gone.

“You’re a vampire,” Talia said.

“Wait, there has to be another explanation.” Her friend rested a hand on her arm. “There’s supposed to be no such thing as vampires.”

“How do you explain this?” She gestured to Drake.

“I don’t know.” Gerri moved her hand to the counter, leaning on it, her gaze fixed on him.

“Vampire.” Drake ran fingers through his dark tangled hair. He glanced up at Gerri. “Is it possible?”

She put a hand over her mouth, and sank onto a bar stool. “It shouldn’t be. But Talia’s right, there’s no other explanation for your condition.”

He put his head in his hands, and a soft moan floated from his lips.

“Wait.” Talia squinted at him. “Is this some kind of punk? Are you being paid to do this?”

He didn’t raise his head, just moaned. “Please help me. I think I’m dying.”

Her friend shrugged her shoulders. “He doesn’t have a pulse. I’m sure. You can’t fake that.”

A wave of dizziness washed over her and she leaned against the counter. She rubbed her temples until the spasm passed. Vampire? But what other explanation could there be? He was technically dead with no pulse. Right? “You’re sure?”

Gerri nodded.

A warm compulsion invaded her and she edged closer to him. Her neck tingled along her jugular vein and she pictured the blood gushing through it, full of life. Thirst hit her and she inched forward another step.

Drake lifted his head, eyes piercing hers. She gasped and swirled around to break the gaze, clamping a hand over her neck. What was he doing to her?

Tal?”

“What do you suggest we do?” She twisted her hands and faced her friend. “If he needs blood, where can we get it?”

“Are you serious?” Gerri grabbed her arm and pulled her from the kitchen. “This is insane. You want to give him blood?”

“What other alternative is there? I feel sorry for him. He doesn’t know what happened, and now he’s stuck. He needs help. We can’t let him die, or be more undead...”

Her friend turned and paced across the living room. “This is outside the realm of any ethical dilemma I’ve ever encountered. He’s technically dead, but there’s a case for him being a new species, I suppose.”

Talia pointed to the kitchen. “Ger, he’s in there talking and mangling my steaks. He’s not dead.”

“Based on human standards, he’s dead. He has no pulse.”

Talia bit her lip. The uncanny link with Drake compelled her to care for him. She could actually feel his thirst and aching hunger. He seemed so vulnerable and clueless. She was certain no one would believe this story if they took him to the authorities. He’d be locked up in a psych ward or something.

“Ger, blood will make him stronger. Then maybe we can figure out what happened and how to help him.” She went to her friend’s side.

Gerri stared at her for a moment then nodded. “Okay, okay. I can’t stand to see anyone suffer. I’ll find a way to get some at the hospital.”

Talia grinned. “Thanks. It’s the right thing to do.”

“I’m not sure how long it will take.”

“Don’t worry. I couldn’t sleep now anyway. I’ve got a killer hangover. I’ll put on a pot of coffee, and we’ll wait.”