Read Online Dead, Undead, or Somewhere in Between by J. A. Saare - Free Book Online Page A

wine tasting. People taste before buying, same difference.” I could tell he was choosing his words carefully.
    They would expect me to drink vampire blood, no matter what he said to the contrary. I knew what they’d expect, because it is what they’d want themselves. My stomach churned, and I could taste the chocolate from earlier. I drew in a huge breath through my nose and released it as I sat back down. I felt icky and nauseous.
    “I need to know what to expect, in case I’m forced to taste it.” I willed myself not to flinch as I met his gaze.
    “I’ve never been to one myself. I’ve only heard about them from colleagues. But I have tasted blood before.” He took an uneven breath, and looked away. “It’s instant. The minute you swallow, your eyes, ears, nose, everything, goes into overdrive. It’s disorienting at first, then unbelievably empowering. I can easily see why people become addicted to the rush. Once it’s gone, you realize just how weak, blind, and deaf you truly are.”
    The temptation to tell him to forget it and walk out the door reared its head, but I suppressed it. I despised fear, especially my own, and that’s exactly what I was experiencing. I was frightened of stepping outside of my comfort zone, of letting go of the little security blanket I’d built so solidly around myself.
    And I didn’t want to live that way anymore.
    “I want something from you in exchange for everything I’m doing,” I told him. “When this is finished, I want to know about my necromancy. I want you to teach me how it works.”
    “Nothing would please me more. You have my word,” he promised. Pushing free of the chair, he walked to the bookshelf. He removed a book and placed it into my hands. “As a show of trust, you can take this to read.”
    The leather binding was thicker than any book I’d held, the pages coarse and uneven. I flipped to the first page and studied the freehand script. I scanned through, intrigued by words like summoning, conjuring, channeling and sacrifice, mixed with diagrams and descriptions, lists of ingredients and moon cycles.
    “What is this?” I stopped at the page with a full moon and a corpse digging its way out of the ground. My lips came together, forming a thin line as I read the descriptions and necessary items.
    “That is the first of my personal journals. I have it all written down, everything I’ve learned.” He cleared his throat and returned to his recliner.
    “Please tell me you don’t wake zombies on a regular basis.”
    “No,” he said quietly. “It’s difficult to do here in the states, and not so easy to explain. It’s also very dangerous. Zombies don’t feel pain, and they won’t return to the grave until you release them.”
    “Then what exactly do you do.” I closed the book and leaned forward to touch the nameplate. “Mr. Nathan McDaniel, P.I.?”
    “I help people. People who are mourning. People with missing loved ones. People who need answers they can’t have because the person with the information has passed on. When they’ve explored every possible venue that’s considered normal, and all that’s left is to wait or give up, they turn to me. I do my best to ensure this is the last stop they have to make.” His eyes focused on mine as his tone became solemn. “Placing faith in a medium one doesn’t understand is difficult enough, but if people were willing to embrace the truth of what we are capable, could you imagine how beneficial our powers would be?”
    I broke eye contact, shifting my focus around the desk. “You didn’t add vampires to that list. How did you end up working for them?”
    He answered quietly, “Eleven years ago, a girl went missing on her way home from Brooklyn College. Her parents filed a missing person report, but it was Disco who retained my services. It didn’t take long, just a few days of tracing her normal route. Her ghost was clear, and a simple touch told me all I needed to know. They found her