NightFall: Book One: Bloodlust Is the Cure for the Immortal Soul Read Free Page A

hair on his chin was shaped meticulously in a strange anchor-like pattern. It started small just under the bottom lip then both sides curved inward and back out, only it was about two inches wider at the base of his strong, stubborn chin. It seemed to be dusted with a golden color. His nose was rather patrician looking. Strong. Sure. His black coat came down to the back of his knees. As Van realized, the stranger was wearing all black attire. He still had the look of nobility, dignity and prestige about him. His face commanded attention. And the stranger knew it.
    Van realized that this enigmatic man had removed his hand from his mouth. He wondere d how long ago that had been a nd how long had he been gawking at the fellow? He also wondered why he had not had the urge to call out for help. It was as if he knew no harm would befall him. Very curious, indeed.
    “I will not harm you,” the stranger assured him.
    It seemed this newcomer had read his mind.
    Strange.
    Van gave the man an untrusting stare.
    “I a m only here to help you, Van,” the man confessed candidly.
    Van furrowed his brows in befuddlement. “How did you know my name?” He knew had never seen the likes of this person before. It was not a face one could forget. Living on the streets, Van could observe freely the people from all walks of life and this man was not one of them.
    The man laughed. It almost sounded contriving in its own way. In Van’s opinion any way.
    “I know more about you, Van, than even you know about yourself,” the man admitted confidently.
    Van continued to gape in bewilderment, so the stranger seiz ed the opportunity to humor him j ust a little.
    “I knew you were orphaned at the tender and very impressionable age of thirteen. Oh, a few good souls welcomed you into their homes. But it was few and far between. No one really helped you for you had no other family that you knew of. So you were forced to beg on these streets up until now. And I must respectfully a dmit,” he concluded despondently, “I do not see how you have made it to your twenty-fifth year.”
    Van looked at the stranger, first in wonder. Then when all the words sunk in that emotion turned quickly to outrage.
    “What do you know about ‘begging on these streets’? You and your fancy clothes and flawless manners.” Van seethed and spat near the stranger’s shiny black shoes. He pointed to the man’s hands. “You don’t look like you had to do a hard day’s work ever in you perfect little life. You will never know the hell I have been through.” Van stormed with anger. “It is my business. Now go and just leave. Me. Alone!” Van shouted audaciously in the man’s face and attempted to wave him away.
    The man grasped his arm with that beast-like strength. Van was certain the stranger would crush his arm to dust if squeezed just a bit harder. Van looked up into the stranger’s eyes. They were glowing fiercely with fire.
    The stranger’s voice became a low, deep growl. His full, red lips snarled ferociously. His teeth, straight and white, gleamed in the moonlight.
    “Leave you alone?!” the stranger hissed as he grabbed Van’s collar and pulled his face dangerously close to his. “Do you know what I am capable of, you young knave?” He sneered. “Dare you be so imprudent in your ways?” Van could only shake his head. The man released Van’s collar and Van put his hand to his throat with lightening speed. “Do you want to die on these streets?” the stranger asked, making a sweeping gesture towards the city. He looked Van in the eyes pointedly and gave a knowing smirk. “A nobody like you?” He decided to let Van’s arm drop from his grip roughly. Van massaged the aching flesh.
    The man smiled, showing just a hint of teeth, taking care not to let him see the razor sharp canines. It would do Van no good to scare him to death. He was not ready to know just yet.
    Van found that he could not smile back. This stranger could have very well snapped