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Authors: April Ezell Wilson

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BOOK: The Last Vampyre Prophecy
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Adonia
Kostas. She’s Greek, a senior at NYU and she’s twenty-two. Then I pin those eyes. Everything I remember is staring right back at me.

I turn down the next street and head in that direction—I need to see her.

I park several blocks down. I frown looking at the condition of the buildings. She is living in squalor. Then I castigate myself for even caring. I have no idea what is going on with me. All these feeling are foreign and I have no idea how to mange them.

Irritated I stroll up the walk and pass
between the two dilapidated buildings. I check the surrounding rooms and rise quickly up the building side and hover outside her window.

The light i
s muted from a small table lamp perched beside a tattered sofa. Her black, sleek hair is fanned across the pillows as she bundles under heavy blankets and drinks a glass of wine.

She i
s watching something on television and the merriment in her eyes brings a smile to my lips.

I c
an sense the chills through her body from the cold and search for a source of heat in her apartment to only come up empty.

She i
s living in the cold and that thought makes me fill with rage. I take a moment to scan the rest of her surroundings and deduce that nearly everything is second hand or extremely old.

Her furniture i
s sparse and the clothes that I can see hanging in her closet are worn and frayed.

But watching her relaxed and utterly con
tent despite her conditions makes a little part of my being sprout with a pang of joy.

She i
s meek and humble, very rare qualities that I come across these days.

I feel
myself wanting to scoop her up and take her away, give her everything she ever desired. Wrap her in the finest silks and cover her in diamonds.

At that moment I realize
that she is what I have been waiting for and didn’t know I missed.

 

                                         

CHAPTER
FOUR

 

ADONIA

 

I pick through the letters at the mailbox anxiously hoping for an interview at one of the many places I have applied.

Three responses
are tucked in with the mountain of bills in my box. I tear through the first one with eager fingers and smooth out the folds. I read the first line and my face falls…. “Unfortunately, Miss Kostas we have already filled the position. Thank you for applying and we wish you all the best in your future endeavors.”

Well fuck.

I yank open the next one and it is a mirror of the first. By the time I discard both and run my finger along the third one my heart is racing. I pray for good news.

With shaky fingers I slid
e the white flap open and pull out the form letter. But this isn’t a standard letter at all.

 

Miss Kostas,

 

Your presence is eagerly requested to interview for the intern position offered at Garai Enterprises.

 

Your anticipated response is valued highly and we offer any assistance to further your decision.

 

Regards,

 

Amanda Strickling

P/A to Mr. Khai Garai

 

Holy shit!
My heart breaks into a sprint. Garai Enterprises is the largest conglomerate in Manhattan and an internship would open any door out there. I jump up and down screaming before I tear up the steps to my apartment.

I barely la
y down my purse before I reach for the phone and dial the number on her attached business card.

It r
ings twice. “Mr. Garai’s office, Amanda Strickling speaking.” Her tone is clipped and to the point, efficient.

“Uh, yes, Miss Strickland…
this is Adonia Kostas and I—”

“Yes, Miss Kostas, I have been waiting for your call. I trust you received your correspondence?” Her tone much more warm and cheerful.

“Ah, yes ma’am, I received it today.”

“Well then, will we receive the pleasure of your company in an interview for the position?”

“Yes ma’am,” I croak then clear my throat, “Yes, I would be honored.”

“Very well, our offices are located in mid-town, the address is included in your letter. You
r interview time is at 9AM sharp tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there, thank you very much.”

“Good day, Miss Kostas.”

I stare
at the alien contraption in my hand like it holds the answers to the universe. My head is spinning. Holy fucking shit! I have an interview with the most exclusive company in America. This just can’t be real. I don’t even remember applying there.

I slump down on the sofa and stare
at the window trying to get my garbled thoughts to become coherent.

When it finally s
inks in I jump from the sofa and dance around the room. The thought of making enough money to maybe get out of this old apartment and get something with heat and working appliances makes me want to scream from the rooftop.

I jog
to the fridge and yank out the wine bottle. I am going to celebrate. As I pull it out of the tray I freeze in my tracks. He is here; I feel it. I whip my head around searching for his beautiful face.

My eyes ca
tch a blur out the window and I walk over peering through the blinds. But I immediately scold myself—how silly! What do I think; he is just hanging outside my fourth story window. HA! I’ve been watching too many freaking supernatural movies.

I walk
back to the wine bottle and pour a huge glass leaning against the counter with the stupidest grin on my face. For the first time in my life I feel hope.

I toss and turn
all night unable to sleep with excitement and wracked nerves. When the digital numbers hit 6AM I jump out of bed and pull on my running clothes. The dawn is just breaking as I run along side the river. It casts amber and purple streaks across the ripples in the water. I stop for a moment just to appreciate the beauty.

That fa
miliar tingle up my spine causes me to look around for his face. I can feel him again. My body is just attuned to his presence. I scour the dock and the rows of buildings but there is no movement. I am the only one around, which immediately has me moving along because this isn’t the area you ever want to find yourself alone and most certainly female.

I pull my jacket closer and sprint
toward the sunrise still reveling in my awesome news.

By the time I get home it is nearly 7:30 so I peel
off my sweaty clothes and shake with the artic air of the apartment. The tepid water from the shower just chills me further, to the bone. I rush the shampoo through my hair and scrub as quickly as possible.

Five minutes later I
am dry and thoroughly moisturized.

Mom bought me two nice suits from a consignment store o
n Long Island just for days like today.

I manicure
my hair and eyebrows then swipe mascara and gloss across my lips and head for the coffee pot.

The stale taste of the
double percolated coffee burns my throat as I gulp and ready my bag.

The tingle up my back and through my hair
has me breathing heavy and looking over my shoulder for the man I am all too familiar with.

Again, I see
nothing just that pull deep within my stomach. I take a moment to miss him and then steal a deep breath and grab my bag as I run through the door.

The cab pulls
out front of Garai Enterprises and I gape at the ornate site. The polished glass doors scream opulence as I make my way through. A security guard takes my name and brandishes a plastic VISITOR nametag that I attach to my lapel.

People
are scurrying to the elevators. I wait patiently for the metal box to invite me in. When the bell sounds for the fortieth-floor I step out and walk straight to the massive welcome desk.

It i
s built with light maple wood and has a brilliant shine with accents of stainless steel that bare ‘Garai Enterprises’ in bold letters.

I smile wide and approach
the attractive blonde.

“Hi.
I have a 9:00. My name is Adonia Kostas.”

She beams
at my introduction. “Yes, Miss Kostas. He will be right with you. Would you like coffee, tea, water?”

I smile
. “No thank you.”

She motions
me to the plush chairs outside a massive set of double doors. I sink into the supple leather and fist my leather bag.

Staring at the beautiful people and
their immaculate clothes I feel shy and unworthy under the lights. There isn’t one person that has less than a five hundred dollar wardrobe.

They
are polished to the nines and I am sporting a less than spectacular second hand suit.

I sigh and stare
at my scuffed shoes. I’d always been happy with what I had but in this environment I felt lacking and a bit useless.

I
try to keep those feelings at bay because I don’t want them to affect my general mood during my interview.

This i
s the most important thing that has ever happened to me and I don’t want to screw it up.

A
few minutes later a girl appears in front of me. “Miss Kostas?”

I smile
.

“Please follow me, Mr. Garai will see you now.”

I stand and straighten my dress then follow the gorgeous woman to the huge double doors. She grips each handle and slowly opens the enormous doors.

The room i
s breathtaking. Several conversation areas are set up sporadically. The furniture is minimalist and streamlined in muted colors. The artwork is contemporary and the flow is airy.

I ta
ke a moment to appreciate every aspect. I notice a tall lean man leaning against a column, a cell phone resting against his ear as he carries a conversation in fluent and impeccable French.

The beautiful blonde le
ads me to a chair across from a staggering marble desk. It must be ten foot in length.

I wait
on his call to end while my heart thumps wildly in my chest. Finally I hear his clipped tone ending the call and I train my eyes toward his chair not watching his approach.

Ten
seconds later a lean form fills his chair and when our eyes connect I think my stomach plummets from my body.

It’
s him—Khai.

The beautiful stranger that has
paralyzed me for years in my dreams—the man that holds my heart in his hands.

He smiles timidly and offers
his hand. “Miss Kostas? I am Khai Garai.”

My ability to form words leaves
my body and I am a quivering blob of idiocy. I just stare at him, my mouth gapping open and my breathing embarrassingly ragged.

His lips twitch and form
a wry smile. “May I offer you a drink, Miss Kostas?”

I continue
to stare at the beauty of a man in front of me and I still can’t formulate a response all I utter is, “Huh.”

He chuckles and leans
in resting his elbows on the desk and steeples his fingers under his chin. “Would you like to get started Miss Kostas?” He pulls a manila folder from the pile of papers on his desk and scans the contents. “I see you have an exemplary GPA and glowing recommendations from your professors and advisors.”

His eyes ar
e burning bright with curiosity and amusement. I swallow loudly and avert my gaze to the lines in the marble. “Y-yes sir. Thank you, sir.” I stumble, “I really love what I do, sir…” my voice is a whisper and cracks as I continue, “It’s all I’ve ever known.” I finish with a whisper.

Silence fills the room and I finally steal
a glance at his face and nearly falter at the look of longing and desire that shines back at me.

H
e seems to recover quickly and regains his authoritative stance. “Well. Miss Kostas, we provide an optimal environment to flourish here, but only to the deserving.”

I flinch
at his words and sit back against the chair. But the words of my mother ring in my ear, “Fight, Adonia. Fight for what you want because someone else will scoop it up and you will be left with nothing.”

I square
my shoulders. “Yes, Sir. I understand and I promise if you give me the opportunity I will make your proud, sir.”

His
eyes soften and he smiles a big, bright, genuine smile.

Moments l
ater the beautiful blonde opens the door. “Excuse me Mr. Garai. Your next appointment is here, sir.”

I stan
d and he follows. I feel foolish as I fumble for my bag. He hovers close to my frame as I collect my things. When I finally look up his eyes are boring into me, seeking something.

I c
an’t speak. Everything is frozen. We just stand there drinking each other in for several moments. The atmosphere is charging all around, it feels like I have my finger plugged to an electrical outlet.

My hair prickles
on my scalp and a tight clenching sensation fills my belly. Then another muted knock at the door tears me from my reverie and I close my eyes quickly then raise my hand. “Thank you, sir. It’s been an honor and a pleasure.”

He purses his lips then curves
them into a smile. “That it has, Miss Kostas.” He shakes my hand and I feel a jolt of pure hot ecstasy shoot through my veins. He leans closer and whispers, “Soon.”

There i
s so much promise laced in that one word. I blink several times then turn for the door. Just as I reach the two pieces of massive maple they open and I stumble head on into a tall solid figure. Mortified I look up to render my apologies and nearly pool to the floor when I realize it is Donald fucking Trump.

He chuckles
. “Whoa there, steady.” He grips the sides of my arm. “Got it?” he asks smiling broadly.

I nod
jerkily. “I’m so sorry, sir.” My face takes on the properties of a cherry at that moment.

He bends
his head back laughing then tilts it in my direction, his eyes dancing with amusement. “I must say, it’s been quite some time since I’ve had such a boisterous introduction.”

I try
and fail miserably to hide my horror. I drop my head to the ground and nod as I step past him and walk briskly to the elevators praying the entire way that the earth will open up and swallow me whole.

I d
on’t dare look back but I catch more laughter just before the giant doors seal shut.

Once I
’m out in the cold winter air the events of the past forty-five minutes slam themselves into my cerebral cortex.

His touch
, his eyes, the way he says my name, all of it sends me into hyper overload. I walk several blocks before I decide the chill in the air is too much and hail a cab.

BOOK: The Last Vampyre Prophecy
2.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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