After Dark (The Vampire Next Door Book 2) Read Free Page A

ran.
     
    She returned to the alley later that night; she could not sleep thinking about it. She hadn’t slept well in weeks, but at least that night she actually knew why. She rose from bed and dressed, walked several blocks. She did not even know what she was looking for. The street was quiet, finally, after two a.m. But when she came closer she could hear a pleasant sigh. Slowly she moved toward the hushed soft noise; with the help of a streetlight she could see them.
    The man leaned against the brick wall; the woman reached up to pull away at his shirt collar, pressed her lips deeply into his throat. And somehow they both seemed to be enjoying themselves.
    She ran, loudly knocking down several trashcans as she went.
    She had returned many times to look down into the alley. In the day the doorway leading to some unknown darkness was tightly locked, the curtains were drawn. In the evening people—always the same people—came and went. Sometimes she heard soft music whispering out into the night when the door was opened.
    Perhaps what she found could bring her an easy end.
     
    She finished her sandwich and diet coke on a park bench and again waited for darkness. From across the street, she watched.
    The same familiar people were slowly beginning to arrive, to drift in with the approaching dusk. A few remained out on the street by the alley and talked casually; she could not hear any of what was said. She wished she could.
    They acted, moved, and dressed, and seemed like everyone else. Even more like everyone else than me , she thought. She felt she could never fit in, not with anyone.
    She remained there for hours.
    Late in the night she saw some of them leave. The alley quieted down again, emptied out slightly, and the activity slowed. She heard a few good-byes when the door closed behind another one who was leaving.
    And she watched the single lone figure cross the dark empty street to go into his home above the small art gallery where she often stopped to look into the front display windows.
    She was surprised. She never imagined any one of them would live over there. It was a beautiful gallery, such lovely work. And it was only open nightly, she remembered. Apparently he lived in the same building, on the floor above.
    She followed carefully. When she crossed the street she looked up into the sky and saw that it was slowly brightening.
    A window was open behind the old Victorian age building, on the second floor. It was the window by the fire escape. She had only to find a way in and wait for it all to end.
    It was all she really wanted now.
     
    No one saw her go through the window; she did not think anyone did. Once in, her eyes needed to adjust to the darkness. Many of the shades were eerily drawn tightly shut. There was no sound in the house. When she was able to see better she noticed the place was basically clean, no cobwebs.
    It was not only cleaned, it was comfortable. The furniture was somewhat old, pleasantly mismatched, but in decent condition. There were pictures on the wall, similar to the artwork she saw in the display windows below. They were excellent; she wondered who could have done them. She slowly drifted into the kitchen—did he even use the kitchen? Probably not. She imagined there would be terrible things found in there if he did. She inspected the top of the stove. No grease, as if he never cooked. She opened the cabinets. The first one she opened had a telephone book, and a set of keys. The second had a few rolls of paper towels, glass cleaner, dish detergent. The third had drinking glasses, cups, and ceramic mugs—large ones. There were no plates anywhere to be found. There was a small table, a few chairs. And a refrigerator. But it had to be empty if he was what she thought he was. Then he didn’t eat.
    But it was filled with bottles of... “Oh my God,” she gasped.
    She shut it hastily. “He is.” She began to quietly panic. “He really, really is.”
    And what could she do about