Hope and Vengeance (Saa Thalarr, book 1): Saa Thalarr, book 1 Read Free
Author: Connie Suttle
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possible."
"Where and when?" Her voice was now a bit more businesslike.
"Tomorrow evening—is nine-thirty too late?"
"No. Would you like to meet at Jorge's Restaurant? It's on Ocean Drive in Corpus Christi. I'll make reservations. I know the owner, so getting there at that time won't be a problem."
"That sounds fine," I agreed.
"Good. I'll see you there." She hung up. I ended the call, stared at my phone for a moment and then stuffed it in my pocket. If I hurried, I could make it to a local home improvement warehouse before they closed at ten.
By the time dawn came, there was new wood flooring down in the bedrooms and small sitting area, a new bathtub, vanity and sink in the bathroom, the new faucets were installed and boxes of ceramic tiles were piled in a kitchen corner, waiting to be installed on the bathroom walls surrounding the tub. Materials to replace the kitchen countertops were in the garage upstairs; I intended to get to that very soon.
* * *
Jorge's Restaurant was spelled out in green neon over a rustic wood façade. Located on the waters of Corpus Christi Bay, Jorge's appeared to be a popular restaurant for locals and tourists. I passed a crowd of vacationers leaving as I arrived, most of them dressed in shorts and print shirts.
Perhaps I was a bit snobbish, but I'd never worn shorts. Or print shirts, for that matter. Designer suits filled my closets, alongside custom-made shirts and Italian shoes. I'd never bought a pair of jeans or a pullover shirt in my life. Russell called me stiff and unrelenting at times. I ignored him and he laughed.
"I'm meeting someone," I informed the hostess. The girl wasn't old enough to serve alcohol in the restaurant, I noticed. That didn't keep her from attempting to fawn over me. If she knew what little interest I had in her, perhaps she might have saved herself the trouble.
"Female humans are for sex, not love," Xavier told me many times. "Take your pleasure with their blood and place compulsion to forget you and the act committed. It's the best way."
At first I thought him foolish, but after years passed and women died, I began to believe. No woman had been successfully turned vampire during my lifetime, and when I ventured to ask Xavier about it, he informed me that no female had survived the attempt in seven hundred years.
The last time I'd fantasized about taking a woman and making her mine—for as long as she lived, that is, was in Chicago during the 1920s. I'd seen her from a distance but failed to catch up to her. Her image lingered in my mind, still, and no other woman had compared to her since.
"Your name?" the girl asked, checking notes on a list and pulling me back to the present.
"Adam Chessman."
"Oh, you're the one meeting Anna," she gushed. "She came in not long ago. I think she's in the ladies' room. If you'll come with me, I'll show you to a table and tell her you're here."
The girl swung long, dyed-black hair suggestively as she led me to a table set against a wide, plate-glass window. Corpus Christi Bay gleamed in the moonlight beyond the restaurant, and reflections of street lamps glittered on its surface. If it weren't for the heat and humidity, the location might hold much appeal.
"It gets better during the winter months, but there's a lot of fog at times." A woman sat opposite me and accepted a glass of water from our waiter. "Thanks, James," she nodded at the young man. I forced myself not to stare—had she just snatched the words from my mind?
"I'm Anna Madden. Lyndsay told me you were here. Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Chessman," she apologized. Hazel eyes studied me as I remained silent. Pale brown hair swept her shoulders and she was pretty, no doubt about that. She was dressed in a silk print blouse neatly tucked into oatmeal-colored linen trousers. Little makeup adorned her face, but she didn't need it—her skin was clear and nearly flawless.
"How long have you been investigating these disappearances?" I asked bluntly. I
"Where and when?" Her voice was now a bit more businesslike.
"Tomorrow evening—is nine-thirty too late?"
"No. Would you like to meet at Jorge's Restaurant? It's on Ocean Drive in Corpus Christi. I'll make reservations. I know the owner, so getting there at that time won't be a problem."
"That sounds fine," I agreed.
"Good. I'll see you there." She hung up. I ended the call, stared at my phone for a moment and then stuffed it in my pocket. If I hurried, I could make it to a local home improvement warehouse before they closed at ten.
By the time dawn came, there was new wood flooring down in the bedrooms and small sitting area, a new bathtub, vanity and sink in the bathroom, the new faucets were installed and boxes of ceramic tiles were piled in a kitchen corner, waiting to be installed on the bathroom walls surrounding the tub. Materials to replace the kitchen countertops were in the garage upstairs; I intended to get to that very soon.
* * *
Jorge's Restaurant was spelled out in green neon over a rustic wood façade. Located on the waters of Corpus Christi Bay, Jorge's appeared to be a popular restaurant for locals and tourists. I passed a crowd of vacationers leaving as I arrived, most of them dressed in shorts and print shirts.
Perhaps I was a bit snobbish, but I'd never worn shorts. Or print shirts, for that matter. Designer suits filled my closets, alongside custom-made shirts and Italian shoes. I'd never bought a pair of jeans or a pullover shirt in my life. Russell called me stiff and unrelenting at times. I ignored him and he laughed.
"I'm meeting someone," I informed the hostess. The girl wasn't old enough to serve alcohol in the restaurant, I noticed. That didn't keep her from attempting to fawn over me. If she knew what little interest I had in her, perhaps she might have saved herself the trouble.
"Female humans are for sex, not love," Xavier told me many times. "Take your pleasure with their blood and place compulsion to forget you and the act committed. It's the best way."
At first I thought him foolish, but after years passed and women died, I began to believe. No woman had been successfully turned vampire during my lifetime, and when I ventured to ask Xavier about it, he informed me that no female had survived the attempt in seven hundred years.
The last time I'd fantasized about taking a woman and making her mine—for as long as she lived, that is, was in Chicago during the 1920s. I'd seen her from a distance but failed to catch up to her. Her image lingered in my mind, still, and no other woman had compared to her since.
"Your name?" the girl asked, checking notes on a list and pulling me back to the present.
"Adam Chessman."
"Oh, you're the one meeting Anna," she gushed. "She came in not long ago. I think she's in the ladies' room. If you'll come with me, I'll show you to a table and tell her you're here."
The girl swung long, dyed-black hair suggestively as she led me to a table set against a wide, plate-glass window. Corpus Christi Bay gleamed in the moonlight beyond the restaurant, and reflections of street lamps glittered on its surface. If it weren't for the heat and humidity, the location might hold much appeal.
"It gets better during the winter months, but there's a lot of fog at times." A woman sat opposite me and accepted a glass of water from our waiter. "Thanks, James," she nodded at the young man. I forced myself not to stare—had she just snatched the words from my mind?
"I'm Anna Madden. Lyndsay told me you were here. Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Chessman," she apologized. Hazel eyes studied me as I remained silent. Pale brown hair swept her shoulders and she was pretty, no doubt about that. She was dressed in a silk print blouse neatly tucked into oatmeal-colored linen trousers. Little makeup adorned her face, but she didn't need it—her skin was clear and nearly flawless.
"How long have you been investigating these disappearances?" I asked bluntly. I