The Vampire's Ghoul

By M.L. Keefer

Veronica is a normal college student until one night she is struck by a car. Awakening in the hospital she meets the vampire who was behind the wheel that night. Intrigued by her, Augustus Da Vinci, half brother of the famed artist and scientist, makes her a special offer. Veronica finds herself with an unusual new career opportunity: Ghoul. As a ghoul, it will be Veronica's duty to protect her new master from all threats. In a world full of vampires, vampire hunters, Leonardo's crazed inventions, and even former ghouls that have betrayed their own masters; her job isn't going to be easy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.L. Keefer
• Release date: Jul 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476009346

Book preview

Chapter 01

Veronica Higgs cursed as she slammed a fist down on the off button of her alarm clock, Damn it, not again. I'm late! In a rush she threw the blankets completely off the small bed that filled most of her tiny room, somehow knocking the few pictures she’d hung off the wall. She blindly fumbled for her glasses, which she had knocked off the nightstand in her attempts to destroy her annoying alarm clock. She found them resting on top of the pile of garbage that hid her small trashcan.

Finally able to see her way, Veronica opened her sliding closet door with enough force to knock the wheels off track for the fifth time that month, but that would have to wait until after class so she propped it up against the wall. Another curse went up to the heavens when she saw that the only clean thing still hanging was an old faded yellow sweater. She grabbed a bra and a pair of jeans from the floor and dashed to the bathroom she shared with her housemates.

In the bathroom she quickly jumped into her clothes and examined herself in the mirror for a moment to straighten her long dark hair with her fingers as best she could. To anyone watching it would have appeared she was trying to rip it out as she forced it into submission and tied it into a ponytail. She quickly brushed her teeth and stomped into her shoes, which had been drying in the tub after walking home in a storm the night before. She cursed Oregon's famous rainy weather when she felt how moist they still were.

Back in the bedroom she grabbed her backpack and stomped down the stairs and out the door. A shout from one of her housemates was barely noted as she slammed the front door behind her and bolted across the lawn.

Instead of going straight down the path to the sidewalk, Veronica cut diagonally across her own lawn and hurdled over the short bush separating it from the neighbor's yard. After dodging a little kid on a bicycle she cut across the street and hurdled a low fence and another bush before arriving on the sidewalk with a straight shot to the small state college she was attending.

The walkways and halls of the college were empty since everyone else was already in class. At the top of the stairs of the fine arts building she slowed to a brisk walk until her class was only one door away. Veronica leaned on the wall to catch her breath.

Breathing under control, she peeked through the window. She saw that the entire class was already painting. Her eyes scanned to find her professor. Luck was on her side. He had his back turned to the door and was leaned over helping another student. Carefully she turned the knob and cracked open the door until she had just enough room to slip through. The heavy door spring tried to pull the door back fast, but she held on and leaned away to slow it. Veronica didn't release the latch until it was firmly shut.

The brown-eyed girl quickly crossed the room and took a seat at her easel. She smiled, thinking she had gotten away with being late again. She pulled her paints and brush case from her backpack and set them on the small table that shared her workspace with the easel exactly as she always did.

With everything in place she pulled the cover off the painting and examined her work from the previous Friday. Without looking away from the painting she squeezed out some red paint and grabbed a small, fine brush. Sticking the end of the brush into her mouth she contemplated what to do next.

On her canvas a tall handsome man stood in an old-world style library. He had a book just pulled from the shelf in his left hand and a casual smile on his face as he looked over his shoulder at her. A lone plush red leather chair sat to the right of the painting. Orange light came from the lower left, hinting at the existence of a fireplace somewhere out of sight. It was as if the gentleman had just picked out his reading material for the night and Veronica’s presence was an unexpected but happy surprise.

The only thing that made the image surreal was that if someone looked very closely, it was noticeable that the gentleman's smile bore fangs. It was Veronica's little rebellion against Professor Davidson's insistence that this be a realistic painting.

Miss Higgs, came the voice of the professor from directly behind her. It never ceases to amaze me how you can always be late and yet still manage to be further along than any of your classmates. I wonder what levels you could achieve if you actually arrived on time once in a while.

Veronica didn't reply, instead she stayed in her own little world. Besides, a reply would only open up the same argument that happened every time the good professor decided to take an interest in what Veronica did. Seeing that she was not going to bite he sighed and continued on to the next student.

She let her eyes drift across the work until something cried out for more detail. She dabbed her brush in the red paint and gently applied it to the gentleman's shirt. She gave him more presence with only a few expert strokes. Drawing him a little more out of the shadows she had first laid on him earlier in the process.

She added some yellow to the red she already had on her palette until she matched the color of her reflected firelight. Carefully she put the smallest amount on the eyes giving them the illusion of shining.

That is scary good, Veronica, said the student to her left. The young man had an appreciative look on his face. You're like one of those Renaissance artists, or something.

Thanks, she replied automatically. Her voice had a distant quality.

He doubted she had even really heard him. Her fellow student chuckled to himself and muttered, Artists.

When the class was dismissed she kept on painting, oblivious to the teacher's announcements and the bustle of her fellow students rushing out the door. It took Mr. Davidson shaking her shoulder to pull Veronica out of her own world. You're going to be late for your next class, Miss Higgs.

She nodded automatically and paused for a second before shaking her head to clear the clouds. Veronica glanced at the clock before draping a cover the painting and repacking her backpack.

She barely made it in time to her next class. From there the day became a long torture session as it always was after her painting class. She really wished that her painting class could be in the afternoon. Not only did she lose a lot of her painting time by sleeping in on the one class she actually wanted to attend, but also the rest of the day she had absolutely nothing to look forward to. It wasn't fair, in her mind, to punish her just because she wasn't a morning person.

Somehow, she managed to get through the day without any of her other teachers deciding to pick her for involvement in class discussion, which she was grateful for. It let her mind wander back to the Fine Arts Building. By the end of the day she had several ideas she wanted to apply to her work.

Veronica swung by the building just in case it wasn't locked. She pulled on the door and it refused to budge. She sighed and sat down on the edge of a large concrete planter near the door. She pulled out a small sketchpad she carried and began to jot down her ideas before she lost her inspiration.

A single bang caught her attention. She looked up and saw a janitor trying to wrestle a large trash can out the door of the building. Veronica got up and held the door open for him. He smiled and thanked her before hobbling down the path between buildings with his heavy load in tow.

A few quick steps and she grabbed her things and returned to the door before the latch caught. She knew it was a bad idea. It'll only take a few minutes, she reasoned aloud to herself.

She jogged up to the classroom. The door was propped open and the floor appeared wet. She tiptoed over to her station and picked up her painting, easel and all. Taking long steps to minimize her footprints she went over to the window. She picked a spot where she could stay out of sight, but still benefit from the natural lighting.

Her first move was to use her smallest brush to add just a smidgen of silvery gray to the temples of her gentleman. The effect did not age him, per se, but gave him just a little more of an aire of dignity.

Veronica smiled as she leaned back and examined her work. She added a little more detail to the background of bookshelves and the chair. She brushed in subtle shadows on the leather seat giving it more depth, making it look deeper and cozier. It now looked like a place that would be enjoyable to curl up with a good read instead of a seat in a fancy waiting room.

She wanted to do more, but her light was fading and she dared not turn on the room’s florescent lights for fear that someone would see and figure out that she didn't belong here this late in the evening.

At least she had managed to complete her improvements. Veronica pulled her easel back into its proper position and put everything away so that her professor wouldn’t notice her little trespassing the next morning. When she was certain her tracks were covered she made her way out of the building and started for home.

She took her time as she strolled down the street towards the neighborhood she lived in just beyond the campus. The area was made up of mostly older houses that had been home to some of the wealthiest men in the community a half century ago. Now it was the home to college kids who could afford to live off campus, but not live well, so to speak.

The quickly setting sun revealed some of Veronica's favorite sights. The light of the sun barely lit the tops of the large oaks that had been planted so long ago when the neighborhood was young. The bare late winter branches seemed almost on fire in the reddish light as they swayed in a gentle breeze coming from the canyon just a few miles away.

When the sunlight began to fail the street lamps began to kick on. The branches above took on a new quality, being under-lit by the yellowish light of the man-made light sources. The lattice of branches formed a tunnel protecting her from the darkness glimpsed beyond.

Veronica reached her own street. She could see the light from her porch across the way. A few roommates were on the porch talking. The girl that had the room across the hall from hers waved. Veronica waved back and, without looking, proceeded to jog across.

She never made it. There were no headlights, but she heard the roar of a powerful engine as a car down shifted. The squeal of tire echoed back off the houses and trees just before her world exploded in pain. There was a brief sense of flight, but that ended with another jolt of sharp pain in her back and legs.

She thought she heard a scream from somewhere nearby, but she had lost all bearings. The world was slipping away and she wasn't sure that was a bad thing. The pain seemed to be connected to the world. The more the world faded into darkness, the more the pain went with it. It was a release to just let it all go.

Chapter 02

Veronica figured she must still be alive. That was the only reasonable explanation for all of the pain that was starting to creep into her body from all directions. Her mind still swam in the currents of consciousness between dreaming and awake, but her body was starting to make its condition known.

The first things to reach her senses were the smells. There was no doubt that she was in a hospital. She had only been in the hospital a few times in her life, but the smell of disinfectant and rubbing alcohol were a dead giveaway.

Sounds began to pierce her haze. She could hear the rhythmic beat of several machines on both sides of her head. Reality was quickly gaining on her attempts to stay asleep. She refused to open her eyes. Without her glasses she knew she would not see anything anyway.

A little further up from the depths and she could make out a voice on a P.A. announcing that a Doctor Murdock was needed in the ICU. Footsteps entered her immediate area. She heard the rustle of paper followed a moment later an expanse of cold flooded into her left arm.

Some part of her mind decided it was an IV and dismissed it as background and useless information. If that was useless, what was her mind searching for? Something about her surroundings was nagging at something deep within her. After the footsteps receded she relented to opening her eyes and scrutinized the blurs that made up her visible world.

Nothing seemed out of place. There was a lot of white, which she expected. Two brown blurs were most likely the doors to her room and the bathroom. That gray splat was most likely a television. There was a large shadow in the corner that she couldn't make out. She squinted hard, but couldn't make anything of it.

Frustrated, she closed her eyes again and winced as another bout of pain surfaced. She was not able to wallow for long as she heard the distinct click of the door locking. Since locks were typically on the inside of a door, someone was in her room and wanted to be alone with her. She listened for any footsteps that would give away her visitor.

Even in a drug induced state of relaxation your mind is sharper than most, came a soothing voice from her left. She would have jumped if such a thing were possible.

Veronica tried to speak, but her mouth was parched and she couldn't make any sound. She wanted to demand the voice to explain itself in a strong voice, but she only emitted a small pathetic squeak.

The same calming voice chuckled lightly. If it will make you happy I’ll try to explain who I am. Just try to remain as relaxed as you are now. If you get too excited your heart rate will rise enough that the nurse sitting at the station might take notice.

Holy shit, she thought. Can you read my mind? Are you just a hallucination?

Another small chuckle, I’m not entirely sure how to prove that I’m not a hallucination, said the voice. I must compliment you, Veronica. Despite the pain and drugs you are very alert. You have a strong will. I am actually kind of glad I hit you. Not that I don’t feel guilty for the pain I’ve caused, but you are a rare find. Well worth the months of waiting.

Months! You hit me? How long have I been out? Who are you? What the hell is all of this? Her mind began to race as it poured over the small amount of information the voice had just granted.

Try to relax, Veronica, said the voice. You need to calm down if you want your answers. If that little heart of yours gives you away as awake, I'll need to part before someone comes in. We don't want that, now do we?

Veronica focused on her breathing and tried not to think about anything but that until she felt she was back under control. She tried picturing a single burning candle like her yoga teacher had taught her to do. It was a stupid class, but covered one of her requirements. At least it was useful now.

Very good, Veronica, said the voice. You, my beautiful young lady, are clever. To answer some of that torrent of questions from before, yes it was two months ago that you were walking home from school. I’m the one that struck you and I am sorry about that. I was in a hurry to reach a friend in need and didn't realize you were going to run out in front of me until it was too late.

Why are you here now? she asked.

She felt a cool hand brush some stray hairs out of her face. I smashed you with my car. Don't you think I am feeling a little guilt?

You don't sound like you feel guilty enough to make sure you were here when I woke up, she replied.

True enough, he said. The hand disappeared. A few seconds later he spoke again from further away, If I may change the subject for a moment, I wanted to ask why it is that you have had no other visitors save myself.

No close friends. Parents wouldn't find it unusual if I didn't call for months at a time. I don’t think my housemates would have known how to find them.

This almost sounds like a trap, he said with mirth in his voice. The perfect candidate dropped right in my lap.

Candidate? For what? She tried to figure out what this voice’s game was.

Let me explain your choices, Veronica, said the voice. On one hand you can walk out of this hospital in a few more weeks and go back to whatever you were doing with your life before, only with a significant limp. The other option is a little more unconventional.

Considering you’re in my head right now, I am willing to take that comment as an understatement.

The voice laughed out loud this time. The pleasant sound ringed off the walls of the room. Do you know what a ghoul is?

Veronica's mind felt an impact similar to what her body felt when she had been struck with this mystery man's car. She did know what a ghoul was. A ghoul was the blood-bound servant of a vampire. This voice was implying that she could be a ghoul. That meant that the voice in her ear was... That was where her mind froze.

You are still awakening from your coma, said the voice. You have a good head on your shoulders, but even so, I think some time to rest and consider would be in order. I’ll come back in a week. Until then relax and try to feel better. And also let me put your mind at some ease. If, when I return, you do not wish to take me up on my offer I will not hold it against you. You have my word that you will live through this whole situation no matter what you choose. I will not have someone working for me out of fear. I have known others that have lived that way and I refuse to walk down that treacherous road.

A second later she heard the door being unlocked, but not opened. Veronica felt a small breeze on her face as the window opened for a minute. It was refreshing and helped clear her mind from the block it had reached. I'll just leave this open for you.

She was left alone in silence after that. Feeling safe that she was alone with her thoughts she began to really think about all the voice had said. Her attempts to remain calm failed as the thought of a real life vampire being so close filled her mind and soon she was distracted from her internal struggle by several nurses that wanted to know if she was all right.

When she squeaked at them she was provided with a warm arm helping her sit up and someone else held the glass of cool water to her lips for her to drink. The bustle of her healers kept her from thinking about her earlier visitor until deep in the night when the lights were low and she was all alone again.

She called the house the next day and got one of her housemates to stop by and bring her spare glasses and a few other small things. The conversation was short when the girl arrived. Veronica didn't really have anything in common with any of the people she shared her home with except for their shared need of cheap rent close to the school. But it was nice of her to bring Veronica’s things and she expressed her appreciation.

Later in the afternoon she received an unexpected guest. Professor Davidson came in with flowers and a card signed by her fellow students. He had in tow an easel, her painting, and a large supply of paints and brushes.

He leaned her painting on the chair near her bedside. Class ended while you were away, he said with a shrug. You did pay for all of this with your lab fees. Veronica looked at the bag stuffed with paint and brushes. It was doubtful that she had paid enough to cover all of that, but she didn’t protest.

After her guests left she was once again alone in her own mind. She couldn't get the picture of a deformed gray skulking creature out of her mind. Ghoul. It was a word that had carried an image of some ugly deformed flesh-eating servant to a vampire. To Veronica it didn't make much sense. Older images of vampires were deformed as well, but if they were real they would have to interact with humanity.

Little details like this helped her avoid the big question. What would happen to her if she said yes when the voice returned? There would no doubt be potent changes to her, that was one thing that all of the legends were clear on. Her thoughts bounced around the oddities of her predicament.

She started to hope it had all been a trick played by her drugged mind. Perhaps it was all in her head. After all, she had been painting a vampire when the accident happened. Her eyes focused on the painting, of the vampire gentleman standing in his library.

With more than a little pain she sat up in her bed and slowly moved her legs off the edge. Both were in casts, so she wouldn't get far. With grim determination she stacked the pillows behind her for some support. She stared at her painting