A Fire in the Blood
Prologue
Tessa shook her head. “Lisa, I am so not going in there. You know I don’t believe in all that nonsense.”
“It’s just for fun,” Lisa said, tugging on her hand. “Come on!”
Tessa stared at the black-and-gold-striped tent. It sat a ways off from the rides and food booths. A tripod beside the entrance held a large, hand-lettered sign that read:
Madame Murga
Palms Read
Fortunes Told
Every time the carnival came to town, her cousin Lisa nagged Tessa to get her fortune told. Even though she was only thirteen, Lisa was really big on the paranormal. She read all the Young Adult books about vampires and werewolves, witches and zombies, watched all the movies, but she was too chicken to get her own fortune told, so every time the carnival came to town, she begged Tessa to do it.
Tessa blew out a sigh, knowing Lisa would keep nagging her until she gave in. Might as well just get it over with.
“All right,” Tessa said, “but just remember—you owe me big-time for this.”
Grinning, Lisa pulled her toward the tent.
A small silver bell chimed when they stepped inside. The interior of the tent was appropriately dim. A small round table covered with a fringed, garish yellow cloth stood in the center of the floor. A pair of nondescript wooden chairs flanked the table.
Tessa stared at the crystal ball in the center of the table. Why had she let Lisa talk her into this?
A dark-skinned woman stepped out from behind a curtain. A bright red, purple, and blue scarf covered her long, black hair. She wore a white peasant blouse over a colorful skirt. Tiny bells affixed to the hem jingled softly when she moved.
“How may I help you?” Her voice was deep, husky.
Lisa gave Tessa a little push. “My cousin’s curious about where she’ll find true love.”
“You seem very young to be concerned about such a thing,” the gypsy woman remarked dryly. “How old are you?”
“Fifteen. But if I’m too young . . .”
“Be seated.”
Tessa sat on the edge of one of the wobbly wooden chairs, her hands tightly folded in her lap. Suddenly, this didn’t seem like such a good idea.
“Your hand.”
Tessa placed her left hand in that of the gypsy, flinched when the woman’s fingers curled around her own.
The woman bowed her head and closed her eyes.
A minute passed.
Two.
Tessa glanced over her shoulder at Lisa.
Lisa shrugged.
“I cannot see much of your future,” the gypsy said, her voice sounding distant. “But I see a man. He is old. Very old. He will come into your life in a moment of danger. He will watch over you and protect you.” The gypsy’s hand gripped Tessa’s tighter. “He will bring you death,” she whispered, her voice like the rustle of dry leaves. “And life.”
An icy chill ran down Tessa’s spine. Jumping to her feet, she grabbed Lisa by the hand and ran out of the tent.
She didn’t stop running until she was safely home with the door locked and bolted behind her.
Chapter One
Ten Years Later
Vampires. Tessa Blackburn shook her head as she scanned the front page of the Cutter’s Corner Gazette.
It was hard to remember how it all started. The first hint of trouble had been a brief story on one of the major news networks. At the time, it hadn’t made much of an impression on the citizens of Cutter’s Corner, since none of the victims had been residents of the town. Gradually, as stories of people disappearing closer to home, of bodies drained of blood, appeared in the headlines more and more often, the people of Cutter’s Corner began to pay attention. It soon became the main topic of conversation at the bank where Tessa worked. Speculation appeared in local blogs, on Facebook and Twitter. Such postings were frequently accompanied by lurid photos of the deceased and inappropriate comments.
At first, no one in town wanted to say the word out loud, but then, one reporter on a popular cable channel boldly stated that Cutter’s Corner had a vampire problem.
Once the word was out in the open, people really began to sit up and take notice.
Had it only been six months ago that the word had first appeared on the front page of the Gazette in boldfaced type? At the time, Tessa’s immediate reaction had been Are they kidding? There were no such things as vampires. Everybody knew that. Vampires were nothing but a myth, scary stories told to frighten children and gullible adults. A staple of old TV shows and spooky tours in New Orleans. Vampires were the villains—and sometimes the heroes—of numerous movies and books. They sold cereal, and taught kids how to count on Sesame Street. But real? No way!
Since then, every newspaper and magazine across the country—both print and digital—carried warnings for the public to stay inside after dark, and to never, ever invite a stranger into your home. And at least once a week, the news sources were plastered with a list of the various ways to identify a vampire, as well as the quickest and most efficient ways to destroy them.
Tessa shook her head. “Lisa, I am so not going in there. You know I don’t believe in all that nonsense.”
“It’s just for fun,” Lisa said, tugging on her hand. “Come on!”
Tessa stared at the black-and-gold-striped tent. It sat a ways off from the rides and food booths. A tripod beside the entrance held a large, hand-lettered sign that read:
Madame Murga
Palms Read
Fortunes Told
Every time the carnival came to town, her cousin Lisa nagged Tessa to get her fortune told. Even though she was only thirteen, Lisa was really big on the paranormal. She read all the Young Adult books about vampires and werewolves, witches and zombies, watched all the movies, but she was too chicken to get her own fortune told, so every time the carnival came to town, she begged Tessa to do it.
Tessa blew out a sigh, knowing Lisa would keep nagging her until she gave in. Might as well just get it over with.
“All right,” Tessa said, “but just remember—you owe me big-time for this.”
Grinning, Lisa pulled her toward the tent.
A small silver bell chimed when they stepped inside. The interior of the tent was appropriately dim. A small round table covered with a fringed, garish yellow cloth stood in the center of the floor. A pair of nondescript wooden chairs flanked the table.
Tessa stared at the crystal ball in the center of the table. Why had she let Lisa talk her into this?
A dark-skinned woman stepped out from behind a curtain. A bright red, purple, and blue scarf covered her long, black hair. She wore a white peasant blouse over a colorful skirt. Tiny bells affixed to the hem jingled softly when she moved.
“How may I help you?” Her voice was deep, husky.
Lisa gave Tessa a little push. “My cousin’s curious about where she’ll find true love.”
“You seem very young to be concerned about such a thing,” the gypsy woman remarked dryly. “How old are you?”
“Fifteen. But if I’m too young . . .”
“Be seated.”
Tessa sat on the edge of one of the wobbly wooden chairs, her hands tightly folded in her lap. Suddenly, this didn’t seem like such a good idea.
“Your hand.”
Tessa placed her left hand in that of the gypsy, flinched when the woman’s fingers curled around her own.
The woman bowed her head and closed her eyes.
A minute passed.
Two.
Tessa glanced over her shoulder at Lisa.
Lisa shrugged.
“I cannot see much of your future,” the gypsy said, her voice sounding distant. “But I see a man. He is old. Very old. He will come into your life in a moment of danger. He will watch over you and protect you.” The gypsy’s hand gripped Tessa’s tighter. “He will bring you death,” she whispered, her voice like the rustle of dry leaves. “And life.”
An icy chill ran down Tessa’s spine. Jumping to her feet, she grabbed Lisa by the hand and ran out of the tent.
She didn’t stop running until she was safely home with the door locked and bolted behind her.
Chapter One
Ten Years Later
Vampires. Tessa Blackburn shook her head as she scanned the front page of the Cutter’s Corner Gazette.
It was hard to remember how it all started. The first hint of trouble had been a brief story on one of the major news networks. At the time, it hadn’t made much of an impression on the citizens of Cutter’s Corner, since none of the victims had been residents of the town. Gradually, as stories of people disappearing closer to home, of bodies drained of blood, appeared in the headlines more and more often, the people of Cutter’s Corner began to pay attention. It soon became the main topic of conversation at the bank where Tessa worked. Speculation appeared in local blogs, on Facebook and Twitter. Such postings were frequently accompanied by lurid photos of the deceased and inappropriate comments.
At first, no one in town wanted to say the word out loud, but then, one reporter on a popular cable channel boldly stated that Cutter’s Corner had a vampire problem.
Once the word was out in the open, people really began to sit up and take notice.
Had it only been six months ago that the word had first appeared on the front page of the Gazette in boldfaced type? At the time, Tessa’s immediate reaction had been Are they kidding? There were no such things as vampires. Everybody knew that. Vampires were nothing but a myth, scary stories told to frighten children and gullible adults. A staple of old TV shows and spooky tours in New Orleans. Vampires were the villains—and sometimes the heroes—of numerous movies and books. They sold cereal, and taught kids how to count on Sesame Street. But real? No way!
Since then, every newspaper and magazine across the country—both print and digital—carried warnings for the public to stay inside after dark, and to never, ever invite a stranger into your home. And at least once a week, the news sources were plastered with a list of the various ways to identify a vampire, as well as the quickest and most efficient ways to destroy them.