Read Online After Dark (The Vampire Next Door Book 2) by Rose Titus - Free Book Online Page A

time.”
    “If I live long enough.”
    He drew a slow breath and let it out slowly. “You mustn’t say things like that, okay?”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Go back to sleep. Stay here, if you want to. I’m going to bed now. All right? Just promise me you won’t be hanging from my ceiling fan tonight when I get up.”
    “Will you finish your story?”
    “Yeah, I will.” He quietly closed the door to his room but opened it again when he heard a sob. “That’s the trouble with you people. You’re all awake all day long, running around in the sun. It makes you all nuts, it’s not right. Why can’t people like you sleep all day like us normal people?”
    She wiped away her tears with the blanket, sniffed weakly.
    “Oh come on now.” He came closer, sat on top of the pine table that was by the couch. “It’s okay, go ahead, let it out.”
     
    It was several hours before she calmed down again and finally went back to sleep that morning.
    Rick was exhausted but remained awake long enough to hide anything that was sharp. He returned to bed, bolted his door shut.
    She was gone when he rose at dusk. He was alone in the quiet darkness. Slowly he drifted through his five silent rooms, somehow the air seemed more still about him, the night seemed darker.
    Did he miss her? Did he miss even her annoying tears, her ceaseless complaining?
    He told himself No. He told himself it made no real difference to him, as long as she didn’t finally go through with it, and actually kill herself. That was the only, only reason he let her hang around, he told himself.
    He wandered to his kitchen, to his well-stocked refrigerator. Later he would go down and open the gallery in case a rich tourist was badly wanting to drop a few hundred to a thousand or so on something frivolous. What the hell, it paid the bills.
    Some of the customers who walked in off the street often pretended to know art—they pretended to be cultured, sophisticated, and they were hell-bent on impressing someone, anyone. He often wanted to snarl oh for God’s sakes just look and say it’s pretty then buy it and leave me alone.
    One man went as far as to say he owned a Renoir in his home, locked in the safe. But if this person had that kind of cash, why wasn’t he vacationing on the French Riviera, instead of a tacky and worn out beach side tourist dump?
    The world was filled with pretentious people, all living in fantasy land. And he wondered if Laura’s story was even true. Or was it all just fantasy? Did she really grow up that disgustingly wealthy? He found it hard to believe that anyone would leave that kind of life, but if it was true then she was experiencing one hell of a culture shock.
    Where was she now?
    Was she all right?
    And he tried to tell himself it didn’t matter.
    She left her sketch pad. He saw it, on the floor by the couch she had slept on. He picked it up, flipped through it.
    The tiger and tigress behind iron bars at the local zoo. Their striped bodies were soft yet strong and lithe. But their eyes were sad, captive and lost, as if her own tragic soul was imprisoned within them.
    And the black panther, drawn in a deep, sooty dark charcoal, also behind bars.
    He flipped through, seeing her pictures of caged animals. He passed a few blank pages then stopped suddenly, and almost laughed out loud.
    It was him. It was very good, he admitted, excellent almost. He was the only creature in her book that appeared peaceful.
    He closed the book, put it away to wait for her return.
    Where ever she was, he hoped she was safe.
     
    Damn it. Martin sat at his desk and swore. Another homeless man. This time the body was dropped on the steps of the town’s public library. Martin wondered if anyone in the town actually ever read a book. All they ever seemed to do was lay on the beach and pick up women and drink beer.
    But this morning the corpse was found on the steps, a trail of blood running up the concrete stairs, as if he had been torn to shreds somewhere