Night Nibbles
by
Kara Griffin
Chapter One
The dead don't mind the cold.
Candra Thorn didn't mind the bone-chilling wind, nor would the Redeemer. He wouldn't let the cold environment bother him, but he might be affected by her cold-hearted plea. At least, she hoped so. She felt his nearness by the vibrations purging her spiritual energy; he had to be close. A tingling sent a familiar signal riveting throughout her body similar to bloodlust. Perhaps her bloodlust had returned, but since she'd fed on a rabbit earlier that morning, her appetite was sated. The signal had to be the Redeemer's psychic essence.
In her search for Steffin Vonner, the Redeemer, she ended up in the most desolate place in the Northern Hemisphere. Either that, or hell had finally frozen over. Steffin had to be near enough for her to sense him. He was the only male related to Drevvin Vonner, the ruler of Dark Kindred and the one she most feared. Only Steffin could redeem the prophecy and return their order to its once respected state. If only she could find him in the cold tundra and get him to accept his destiny.
Sixteen daily hours of darkness should ease her soul and afford easy movement around town. Candra didn't much care for sunshine. She walked down the eerie street, watching the wind blowing snow off the roofs of the shops and buildings. Icy wind pushed against her back, moving her in the direction she faced. Comforted by the darkness, she looked down the street at the truck that had pulled up in front of the local staple store. Two men jumped out of the truck and rounded it. Their breath sent a large cloud of steam in the air as they spoke. She dismissed them and didn't feel the vibe. Neither of them were the Redeemer.
Candra entered an empty diner across the street and looked through the window at the streaks of light in the distant sky. The Aurora Borealis twisted in a pinkish glow that weaved the night in its quintessence. This was a good place to hide, and the Redeemer must have considered that when he came so long ago, almost six centuries before. She would find him if it was the last thing she did.
"Hello, I'll be with you in a minute."
She jumped at the voice behind her, not realizing the waitress had come out of the kitchen. Candra nodded then removed her parka and continued to watch the locals across the street. Their conversation seemed jovial, at least what she'd heard of it before she stepped inside the diner. The hunters held rifles over their shoulders, looking at their kill, lying lifeless in the back of the truck. She could relate to their excitement, but at least she'd killed for a good cause. Her very survival counted on the hunt. Yet her survival would be limited if Drevvin found her.
She fingered the bloodstone inside her coat pocket, knowing she shouldn't have taken the relic. Drevvin would surely follow her to retrieve the ring, but she hadn't thought of that at the time. Now safely on her finger, she felt the cold metal touching her skin. The ring was the only link she could use to convince the Redeemer to resurface. Good against evil, brother against brother, the prophecy would happen whether they wanted to face the showdown or not.
Candra sighed, knowing she was the only member of Dark Kindred to evoke the courage to demand Steffin's return. Dark Kindred, her beloved society of vampires, would disappear beneath the vicious rules set down by Drevvin, unless she did something about it.
Her throat began itching, added to the tingling, that feeling came upon her. Would she ever stop the craving? Bloodlust increased her breath, and she closed her eyes, hoping to cease its taunting. No, she didn't want to taste human blood this day, especially not from these locals. She'd only cause an uprising, and at this point, Candra didn't want to draw attention to herself. The feeling couldn't be bloodlust. She hoped the sense was caused by Steffin's power and his essence.
"Are you all right? You look pale."
She jumped again, opening her eyes to see the waitress touching her arm.
Candra stepped back, putting space between her and the woman, lest she be tempted to taste the pulsing river within the woman's veins. "I'm fine. You just startled me."
The bloodlust or sense or whatever it was subsided, and she was able to push the desire away. She stepped to the counter and set her parka on the back of the swivel-stool. A cozy fire flickered in the fireplace beyond several unoccupied tables. Quaint decorations covered the walls, and various photographs of hunters with their kills lined the windows. Several deer heads with their massive antlers mounted on decorative wood hung above the fireplace mantle. A weird kinship overcame her. She knew what a hunt did for a person and how thrilling it was to capture the prey; only her prey wasn't what the men in those photographs pursued.
The diner certainly seemed as though it stood a good many years. Rustic was the only word she could think of to describe the place. It reminded her of the old taverns she and her friends partook of back in the day. She smiled, turning to the waitress.
"I didn't think you would be open so late." Candra sat at the counter and opened a menu, scanning it for something bloody, something to settle her hunger.
"We're open twenty-four hours. Some folks have strange eating habits when the darkness comes. Are you an adventure seeker?" The waitress smiled, took her pad out and patted her pockets, seemingly looking for something to write with. She found a pen and set it against the tab, waiting for Candra's order.
"No, I'm sort of new in town, at least temporarily. Do you get many tourists?" She was surprised to hear about adventure seekers, because the town was quite small and didn't look like it had many accommodations.
"Oh, yes, they come to climb the mountain. Most stay a day or two then give up. Once in a while we get real adventurers who stay up on the mountain for weeks. What can I get for you?"
"I'll have a steak, make it rare ... oh, and a baked potato." Candra added the potato as an afterthought, so the waitress wouldn't think her odd. The last thing she needed was to stand out.
"You got it. Do you mind if I turn on the radio? I like to listen to Seth Black's show, the Night Rambler. He comes on at eleven." The woman ripped the order off her pad and set it on a back counter for the cook.
Candra shook her head, not caring what the woman listened to. While she waited for her food to arrive, she heard commercials, most about hunting supplies.
Drevvin would never come so far north, nor would he visit a place as remote as this, but she still had to be concerned. For centuries, she had put up with his insatiable demands, mostly due to the fact that he'd turned her. She still had his vicious bite scars on the side of her neck, though they had mostly faded. He brazenly considered her 'owned' property and that she owed him. She didn't owe him a thing, especially since he destroyed any happiness she might have had. Drevvin chased away her mate and everything she'd dreamed for her life.
Candra didn't bow to any man, not even the head vampire of the Dark Kindred. How many times had she threatened to return the bloodstone to the Redeemer? Too many times for him to take her seriously. The timing was perfect, and she took her chance to escape while he visited friends in western Romania. He should have returned by now, and he'd know she ran. How much time did she have before he caught up with her? Did he know she'd taken the bloodstone? Those questions only reminded her how little time she had to find Steffin.
A voice jarred her from her thoughts, and she glanced at the old-time radio that sat on the shelf beyond the counter. The waitress returned and set a plate before her. The fat, juicy, bloody, steak, smelled so good, her stomach grumbled. Candra was hungry; she hadn't eaten since her trek outside her cabin early this morning. The rabbit should have eased her bloodlust, yet she still thirsted for a taste of the forbidden. Her insides continued to tingle, but she couldn't blame it on her urge. A vamp had to be close.
)
Vampires have haunted our dreams for eons. Yet, how can we resist their dark allure and hypnotic wonder. Whether a classic vamp or an empathic one, they scare us and thrill us, and even make themselves the objects of our affections. So don't just watch your neck and mind when you read these devilishly succulent tales, but watch it when the lights go out, and the bedroom door creaks open. We've warned you a second time now, so not our fault if you get smitten or bitten.
