Page 3 of Night of the Vampire

Arman retired to bed early at the elder vampire’s estate in Scotland, well, now it was his and his friends’ estate after putting the elder vampire down who had owned it. After the big battle to overthrow the League of Vampires, Arman had started having dreams of Fiona. She was the beautiful blond-haired girl with bright green eyes of seventeen who would be eighteen soon that he had met at the Dallas mall. She’d been visiting him in his dreams for weeks now, though she was a human, not a vampire like him. He’d wondered if it was because he’d met her at the Dallas mall when she’d spilled the soda on him. Yet he hadn’t been having dreams about the accident.

He’d wanted to have lunch with her. Dinner even. He had been totally smitten with her. Something about her just appealed—her apology, embarrassment, the sweet but guilty smile she had shared with him. Even though he was a vampire, he’d felt in that moment, she had…mesmerized him like the gaze of a vampire could.

He’d just wanted her to know that he wasn’t upset with her in the least. But she’d shyly declined and hurried off to join an older teen, her brother, if Ruric had been right about what he’d overheard. Not that Arman had been all that surprised. Arman had been a stranger, and she probably hadn’t trusted him. For good reason. Sure, he was a good vampire, but if she knew what he really was, she would have probably thought he was a monster.

Even when Arman saw her in his dreams, she was so real, so wonderful to be with that when he woke, he felt she would be there, sharing a smile with him, a kiss, a hug.

But this time when Arman drifted off to sleep, he felt tension, anxiety, concern and knew right away something was gravely wrong.

A blond-haired man came to him in his dreams, his eyes an intensely soulful green eye, and said, “You have to go to Portland, Oregon and save the girl in your dreams. She’s cursed with a gift and vampires who are evil to the core want that gift. Regina Peckinpah and Tobias Farrington, to top the list. They have taken her hostage, though she doesn’t know it. I beseech you to take her to safety and protect her until after the night of the blood moon when she turns eighteen.”

“What’s the girl’s name?”

“Fiona Wilder. You’ve met her before. In Dallas. It wasn’t a chance meeting,” the man said.

“Who are you?”

“Someone who has a keen interest in her welfare. I need you to do this. You feel the connection between the two of you. You have to do it.”

“What do you mean we didn’t meet by chance?” Arman asked.

“Everything happens for a reason.”

“Fate?” Arman didn’t believe in fate.

“You need to take her to your safe house. Don’t delay or it will be too late.”

“By…?” Arman needed a timeline. If he believed this, he had to still fly out and that would take time.

“Before the blood moon.” And then the man faded away and was gone.

It was nighttime, darkness cloaking everything, but Fiona was there in the darkness, listening to whispered voices, alarmed, unable to learn what was going on.

Arman immediately thought of the blond-haired man who had warned him to move her out of the harmful situation she was in. He wanted to talk to her, to ask her what was wrong in the worst way, but he could never speak with her. She couldn’t speak to him either. It was just enough to be near her. But he worried that the man who warned him to save her was right and Arman had to do something about it—and pronto.

They were separated this time though. Seeing her through a bedroom window of a house he didn’t recognize, he tried to get her attention. Somehow, he knew he had to get her out of there. He didn’t know why. But he feared she was in trouble. If he got her out of the house, would she recognize him? Would she go to him willingly? Would she leave with him without a fight?

She went outside to see what the scratching noise was on her bedroom window. It was Arman, trying to reach out to her without waking the vampires in the house.

Before Arman could go to her, someone went outside to join her. He saw glimpses of a woman, powerful vampire—a rogue—Regina. Crap. Fiona wasn’t a vampire. At least he didn’t think she was. Unless vampires telepathically communicated, or they showed off their elongated canines, they couldn’t tell if someone was a vampire or human. Or Fiona could even be a hunter, who were just as powerful as vampires, but didn’t have the need for blood or the teeth that would extend. But she wouldn’t be living with the rogue vampires then.

Fiona went back inside. He had to whisk her away to somewhere safe. Someplace like the estate he was living at now in Scotland.

Then he saw her in a different place. She was wearing a martial arts uniform, all white, cinched with a black belt. All around her, dead people her age with ghoulish faces and blood-splattered clothes were dancing. It was at night, music playing in the background, and Fiona was standing off to the side, looking like she didn’t want to be there. He could feel her sense of not belonging, of wanting to escape. He felt an urgency that he hadn’t ever felt before. He had to go to her, reach out, remove her from there, save her before it was too late. The blood moon was coming. Fiona was turning eighteen then. He had to save her before then. It could be a matter of life or death.

He had a hold of her hand. He was drawing her out of the place, the wild music still playing, but a fight had broken out between a mummy and a guy wearing a toga. “Come with me,” Arman pleaded with her. “Come now.”

But she broke away from him. She released his hand, unwilling to leave with him. It was dangerous to stay behind. He had to come up with another plan. A plan that would remove her from the rogue vampires’ grasp.

A door slammed shut in the distance, muffled voices speaking in another room, waking Arman. He realized it was morning, but he couldn’t let go of the dream he’d had. He wrote it all down, but he couldn’t quit thinking about it. He had to save her. He knew it with every fiber of his being.

Wanting to do what was right, Arman walked into the living area where he heard the other Welsh princes talking. He had to tell his friends he was leaving for the States. Though he was usually the one who didn’t take risks and didn’t want to upset the League of Vampires, he always stuck it out with them. Levka, Ruric, Stasio, and Arman had been friends since the Black Death had turned them into vampires. Over the centuries, they’d helped humans in need—to the league’s consternation. The ruling vampires felt humans needed to take care of themselves. This time, he had to go it alone and he didn’t want to tell his friends why he had to leave. They would think he was crazy and would try to stop him.

“Here comes Sleeping Beauty,” Ruric joked. “We already had breakfast. Do you want some tea?”

But Stasio was frowning at Arman and looked a little worried. Maybe because Arman felt so agitated and Stasio sensed it.

Likewise, Levka furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong?”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com