A Fire in the Blood(3)
* * *
One thing Tessa loved about living in a small town was that, aside from knowing almost everyone, she could walk to work. But lately, she’d had the eerie sensation of being watched. And tonight, walking home alone in the dark, she wished she had taken her car.
She assured herself there was nothing to worry about. How could there be, with all the hunters stalking the streets? But the constant talk of vampires left her feeling vulnerable. She was sure there was a vampire lurking behind every tree or watching her from the shadows. She told herself she was just being foolish, that she needed to stop reading the newspapers and blogs, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being followed.
She glanced over her shoulder time and again, certain someone was creeping up behind her, but when she looked, there was no one there. No suspicious footsteps.
Just that creepy feeling.
Again.
Of course, it was October and every house she passed was decorated with ghouls and goblins, witches and tombstones. But that didn’t account for all the other times she had been sure someone was following her.
Nearing home, Tessa quickened her pace. Then, feeling foolish, she ran the last two blocks. Heart pounding, she raced up the stairs to her apartment, thrust the key into the lock, and hurried inside. Slamming the door shut behind her, she shot the bolt home, then stood there, gasping for breath and feeling utterly ridiculous for letting her imagination get the best of her.
* * *
The vampire paused in the shadows outside the woman’s house. The word was out, spread by a fledgling who had heard it from a gypsy fortune-teller: There was a woman in Cutter’s Corner whose blood made new vampires stronger—something every fledgling would kill for.
His nostrils filled with the tantalizing scent of her blood.
Her fear.
He had missed his chance at her tonight.
He would not miss tomorrow.
Chapter Two
Tessa glanced at the neatly cut grass. At the tall pines in the distance. At the wreaths of flowers surrounding the graveside. At the fluffy white clouds sailing like ships across the sky-blue ocean. Everywhere but at the pale blue casket covered with a spray of red roses. She hated funerals. Granted, she hadn’t been to many, and the ones she had attended had been for people who had been sick with no hope of recovery and for whom death had probably been a blessing. But Mrs. Kowalski hadn’t been ill or infirm. She had been the town librarian, and one of Tessa’s favorite people. When Tessa first moved to Cutter’s Corner, Mrs. Kowalski had made her feel welcome. In spite of her years, Mrs. Kowalski had been filled with a zest for life. She hadn’t deserved to die in such a horrible way.
Of course, neither had Mr. Holbrook, the town recluse, who had been Cutter’s Corner’s first victim. Or Miss Garcia, who had taught third grade. Or the two transients—one who had been found in a ditch alongside the freeway, the other in a Dumpster. Five mysterious deaths in as many months. And yet, if what the papers said was true, maybe not so mysterious.
When Jileen nudged her, Tessa looked up, startled from her morbid thoughts. “Let’s go,” Jileen said quietly. “It’s over.”
Tessa glanced at Mrs. Kowalski’s family—her husband, Joe; their three daughters and seven grandchildren. “In a minute.” Sighing, she made her way toward them.
It wasn’t fair, she thought. Mr. Holbrook had been a widower who rarely left his house. Miss Garcia had been an old maid. Sure, Mr. Holbrook and Miss Garcia had had friends who would miss them, but Mrs. Kowalski had a husband and grown children who loved her, grandchildren who needed their grandmother.
After offering her condolences to Mrs. Kowalski’s husband and children, Tessa headed for home. It was Saturday, the day she set aside to clean her apartment, do her laundry, wash her car. She usually had her chores done by early afternoon, but the funeral had thrown her off schedule.
It didn’t take long to dust and vacuum her small apartment. After a late lunch, she pulled the sheets from her bed, then gathered up the rest of her laundry and drove to the Laundromat. As soon as she got enough money saved, she was moving to a larger place, one that provided washers and dryers on the premises. Or, better yet, inside every unit.
She sorted the lights from the darks, poured in soap and fabric softener, and settled down on one of the hard plastic chairs. E-reader in hand, Tessa soon lost herself in one of the mystery novels she had downloaded earlier in the week.
By the time her clothes were washed, dried, and folded, and she had stopped at the gas station to fill up her gas tank, night had fallen.
* * *
Tessa paused as she lifted the laundry basket out of the trunk. Mouth dry, she glanced around the building’s dimly lit parking lot. She felt it again, that same shivery sense that she was being watched. She told herself it was only her overactive imagination, but the creepy feeling remained.