Dark is the Night

By Brindle Chase

Katherine Wells is Cleveland’s top homicide detective and she’s hot on the trail of the Antoinette killer. The string of burnt and beheaded bodies have little in common, except they keep turning up. In search of clues, she encounters Alexander. His intoxicating old world persona captivates her and she suddenly finds herself in a torrid love affair. The passion is overwhelming and her sense of law falls into blissful chaos.

As an elder vampire, Alexander struggles for anonymity in the modern world. Killing isn’t personal; it’s to prevent them from becoming the undead. His kind can’t be discovered. With Katherine’s investigation getting too close to the truth, the other vampires demand he eliminate Detective Wells.

Katherine discovers Alexander’s supernatural secret and he learns Katherine’s the detective he must silence. The revelations are shocking. He’s everything she ever wanted and everything she stood against. Torn between a love like no other and the law she’s sworn to uphold, she must choose. Against time, the police and the other vampires, they must destroy the evidence she’s collected and join the undead.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brindle Chase
• Release date: Jun 22, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458056368

Brindle Chase

The world is a lonely place without romance. It took me too many years to figure that out, but now that I have, I hope to infect others with its splendor. I’ve always loved the paranormal -- vampires, demons, angels, were-creatures and more. I also love a spicy tale and writing stories that are both has been a fantastic adventure. Sharing it with you makes it all the greater. Join me at www.forlorn-hope.net

Book preview

Dark is the Night

Copyright © June 2011 by Brindle Chase. Smashwords Edition.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed form without prior written permission from Brindle Chase. www.forlorn-hope.net

Editor: Brindle Chase

Cover Artist: Brindle Chase

Printed in the United States of America

Published by www.forlorn-hope.net at Smashwords

This book is a work of fiction. Any reference made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning

This book contains sexually explicit scenes, graphical violence, and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Adults Only.

Table of Contents

Cover

Copyright

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Between Twelve and Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Dark is the Night

By Brindle Chase

Chapter One

A bitter crisp to the air told me it would snow soon. I hated winter. The air dries up and left my skin parched like a sun-bleached husk. But the desiccated weather was hardly the worst of it. The Yule season was upon me and served as a glaring reminder that relations were all but a fable for me.

My kind are—by our very nature—loners. It is a minor drawback to sitting at the apex of the food chain. Companionship is a difficult concept for us to manage and oft times we simply do without. That was the choice I had made and rare was the time I endured remorse for it. It was a lurking hollowness deep in the darkest recesses of my spirit and left me feeling isolated when exposed to conscious light. The holiday season brought it around to stare me in the face.

As a vampire, many things were different in my world. Imagine finding a special woman and how wonderful it would be. Now imagine spending eternity with them. It is a beautiful fairytale to believe in, but like most Grimm stories, the true tale is one far less magical. Dreams are for the foolish.

The night was young although the sun had dipped beyond the steel framed horizon of the city hours ago. My hunger had surfaced and I was on the hunt. Two and a half million dinners lived in the city, and while my brethren were few and far between, sharing was not something my kind were known for. The downtown district was my territory and I guarded it fiercely. I am an elder and therefore entitled by right of might. Few dared challenge my claim.

With a never-ending menu at hand, I took my time in selecting the most delicious of morsels. Their fragrant aromas drifted up over the stench of the sewers, gutters, and back alley dumpsters. Each unique in their flavor, their blood richer or poorer, and in finding the strongest I found a delightful challenge. Why dine like a vulture when I can treat myself to the very best and feast as a king?

My prey was elusive this night, a flighty young girl of golden curls and eyes of sapphire. I suppose she was beautiful, barely of age to drink, and that made the hunt more fulfilling. When I took her, her blood would be spiced with spirits so I might enjoy their burn as well. This was the third club she’d been to in as many hours and the man who stumbled over himself for her attention still tagged along.

He was not a concern although I confess I usually avoided couples. Having to kill a man, simply because he was there with my meal, didn’t sit well with me. Don’t confuse this sentiment with morals, my kind define such things from an entirely different perspective. Yet it was always regrettable to kill in excess.

I had followed her from one club to another in hopes she might lose the annoying man but I should have known better. His arousal cloyed thickly on his scent and marked him a different category of predator. He was calculating when she had consumed enough alcohol so he could move in for what he wanted. It was a shame he did not know he would not be allowed to taint my dinner with the pestilence of his wanton desires. No, she was mine.

Kills came all too easy in this century. The human population had exploded. Far too many beings plagued our tortured planet, but it served me well. No one cared when another was killed. Their teeming numbers weren’t stunted in the least and those slain were forgotten all too quickly. The very thought always infected me with a melancholy. To me they were prey but should they not have been more to their own kind?

A half hour passed as I waited on the rooftops and true to the girl’s fickle nature, she emerged from the club with her lapdog following at her heels. They spoke briefly, him wanting to take her someplace private and she wishing to sample yet another nightclub. With her winning the argument, they chose to travel through my alleys. A fatal decision.

She leaned on him for support. Balance was precarious for her on those five inch stiletto heels and he abused her lack of equilibrium by fondling her shapely backside when steadying her. Her laughter was cute. Yes, ‘cute’ is the word, I believe. It reminded me of a child’s—mayhap it is better described as a giggle—but it came as an invitation to him and I knew I would have to strike soon, before he did so first.

The drinks they had imbibed gave an uncertainty to their steps as they moved deeper into my alley. I ran to each side of the roof and made sure no others were in earshot before moving to the fire escape ahead of them. Silently I slid down its slick steel until I hovered right over them, no less than ten feet from where they had stopped.

Here in the Flats, the buildings are several stories high and old. The alleys are tight and most are unlit. Winters in Cleveland are fierce with a never ending and howling wind blasting off Lake Erie. Its cold clawing touch cuts right through most clothing and for the humans it was treacherous at times. But it never seemed to put a damper on the nightlife in this district.

Into my realm they waltzed, staggering drunk and oblivious they had entered the valley of death. The brick walls of the alley were glossed with rain and runoff had frozen with the night’s below freezing temperatures. Litter lined the edges of the two buildings they sought refuge between and the constant wind made it so very easy for me to remain silent.

The man moved in, kissing her neck and fondled her breast through the flimsy satin tank top she wore beneath a thick wool blend coat. I inhaled a deep breath through my nostrils. She too was aroused and I knew then my time was up. Strike then or abandon her to the simpleton. No. You see, such would go against our nature. I had claimed her and surrendering her over to a lesser creature was grotesquely unpalatable.

I inched closer, knowing I was all but invisible to them. We move with complete silence unless we choose otherwise. We have no scent. Well, none detectable by humans. There is nothing to give us away in the darkness. Sometimes I found it so very unjust.

He was brazen, sliding his filthy hands across her lithe body in an erotic caress. They slipped under her clothing and she seemed to have lost any resistance for it. I wasn’t convinced there had been any to begin with. She let out a breathy giggle to encourage him. Boldly his wretched hands polluted her, my meal. I am sure he felt the girl belonged to him, but I was about to obliterate his sense of territorial claim.

The kill was a game to me, a challenge per se. I could easily drop down, slay him, and then drain her dry. But there would be no daring in that. No fun, no exhilaration for the hunt. It wasn’t that I liked to play with my meal, but I did enjoy the sport of it. How close could I get before they noticed? Could I eliminate one right in front of the other without their knowing?

He turned her around, brushed aside her long coat and lifted the tiny black mini-skirt over her shapely buttocks. His hands caressed them as she braced herself against the building’s brick wall. I could smell her readiness and he was as aware of it as I. It was time.

He reached for his zipper as I snagged him by the throat, hanging from the fire escape. I snapped his neck and laid him without a sound on the lowest level of the landing and then jumped down. Within a split second, I replaced him, running my hands over her backside as he had. She purred her delight and was none the wiser, thinking I was the man she had left the club with.

I paused, taking a moment to admire her and could see the attraction. She had long slender legs. The faint orange hue of her tan came by way of ultra violet bulbs in a machine, but lovely all the same. The soft cheeks of her ass were firm, toned with muscle and yet smoothed over with enough flesh to give the hand something to knead. And so I did. I watched her shift from left to right, teasing me with the moist warmth between her legs.

A euphoric trace of erotic desire joined the hunger pulsing in my veins. There is a sensual pleasure that accompanies our feeding and it is heightened to unimaginable bliss when combined with sexual contact. I don't often partake of my victims, but I found this one to be exciting. Mayhap it was the melancholy of my loneliness. The remaining unanswered question—would she allow me?

She turned and our eyes met. It was as if she expected something and I had not performed it. My mind engulfed hers, allowing me to feel her thoughts. Shock and fear boiled to the top, but slowly eroded. Her initial surprise was quickly defeated by the toxins of the alcohol in her arteries and her state of arousal. The cloying scent of her sex intensified.

Forgive me, I said to her. I could use my powers to make her agree to anything I desired. So easy it would be and she would die in the attempt to sate my every need. But I am not like many of the others. Vampires feed on fear nearly as much as they do blood. If she would not give herself to me freely, without my influence, then that need would have to go unmet.

I fear your gentleman is no longer with us and to see you, so needing, so wanting, I could not resist. Permiss me and I shall take you to a pleasure you will never feel again in this life.

Her agape mouth slowly pursed. Red tinted lips stretched into a smile and she nodded. The veiled truth of what I had meant did not register.

Calling on the cursed blood in my veins, I engorged my penis. Then pulled it out and slid into her, finding her soaked with slickness. So warm and snug. She moaned in appreciation as I pushed inward, delving deeper and I moved a hand up to stop her from turning when she attempted to look back. There was something too personal about eye contact. She got the idea and gave a pixy-like little laugh, thinking her lover was playing a game.

I thrust into her, deep, slow and forceful, feeling her quiver with ecstasy against me. She was tight and very slippery and most importantly, intensely warm. My kind derives the same pleasures as humans but for us it is not an instinctual need. Breeding is much different for us and as such, nature’s call for it does not originate from sex. We enjoy it just the same.

I moved a hand up and snaked my fingers through her hair at the back of her skull, then wrapped a handful of its silky goldenness about my fist, taking control of her. She moaned softly as I continued pumping in and out of her. Little gasping whispers expressing her appreciation of my touch escaped past her plump lips and added to my excitement.

Firmly, I pulled her head back, resting my lips against the smooth, sleek spanse of her neck. She felt exquisite and I wanted to savor the moment before I fed. Feeding alone was erotic in ways I simply cannot express with words. Giving myself over to the eroticism and expressing it through actual physical contact made it all so much better and she was so exceedingly receptive to me.

A sudden jerk of her body signaled her climax, backed up tight against me and I held her through it, leaving myself buried deep inside her hot core. Her lithe body trembled almost violently and adorable little murmurs intermixed into her deep ragged breaths. I could feel her contract against me. A pleasure rushed through me and my hunger reached its threshold.

My fangs pierced her jugular with no resistance, no mess. She came again as I drew her essence in, sucking her life force in deep pulses. The steamed heat of her blood surged through my eyeteeth in pulses, pushed by her heart and each was accompanied by a wave of sensual bliss. I kept thrusting and timed each to match the draw of her life and as it usually was, I was mesmerized. To feel her life fill me as she died in my arms was a high like no other. She gave it so willingly, coming hard against me as her life force ebbed away and filled mine. Her ecstasy became mine as her vitae shared her eroticism with me, coupled with the sensations from the act itself.

It was too much and I came. I grasped her buttocks tight as I trembled through the forceful orgasm, while her body languished, wilting against mine. She was nearly gone and it was those moments when I felt a glimmer of remorse. She was so beautiful, her face aglow with pleasure, yet pale as a white moon, drained of what gave her life. Her heartbeat slowed to a stillness and she was gone.

Her essence flowed through me, burning my veins from within. A deep painful but wicked pleasure as it vitalized the dead inside me. The euphoria pulsed through me as I stood, shivering in ecstasy against her limp body. The warmth in her slowly waned and I clung to her, desperate for her heat, until it too faded. The high lifted, my vision focused once more, and I felt positively alive.

It was such an intense rush and filled the black hole residing within me, and I understood why others of my kind fed more often than was necessary. It was addictive, so enriching and pleasurable. However, it was wrong to kill when one was not hungry. I was a beast, but I refused to succumb to it. Allay the morality of it, in the end the nourishment she gave me would last for a week, at the very least.

Gently, I laid her body down and put myself away, buttoning my jeans. Now came the chores. One cannot have their fun and expect someone else to clean up after them. I had two bodies to dispose of. His would be the easier. I had not bitten him so he would not turn. She however, could.

I didn’t need a fledgling as we called them. Teaching a freshly turned vampire was a very tiresome endeavor and one I was not up to. I would have to dispose of her in the ways we disposed of one another. Vampires are not killed so easily and must be beheaded, to sever the brain from the heart and to be safe, the rest incinerated.

I couldn’t burn her there, so first I dealt with him. I looked up and saw his eyes, where he lay half dangled on the fire escape’s edge. To my astonishment, he still breathed, merely paralyzed. He had watched the entire time as I desecrated and killed his lover, unable to do a damn thing to save her. Shame that. Had I been human, I probably would have felt utterly repulsed by myself. How callous—how sadistic it must seem to be so nonchalant? Killing is our nature; it’s nothing personal.

I ended his agony quickly and bent him over backward on the steel ladder of the fire escape. Then I wrapped his spine around it, making it appear as though he had slipped while climbing it, caught his leg in between and broke his back and neck on the bottom rung. I left him to dangle there and then moved back to the girl.

Her death stare was ominous, a frozen snapshot of ecstasy, eyes glossed and drooped in satiation. I closed them and then hefted her onto my shoulder. I looked about to make sure there was nothing left of hers. She had nothing but the clothes she wore, so I headed into the dark night, still trembling with heated pulses of pleasure tracing through my refreshed limbs.

Chapter Two

Another day, another murder. As if the Antoinette murders weren’t enough to keep us busy, a mysterious death was all we needed. When will people learn to stay away from alleys? Especially in the Flats. Greg, my partner of four years, maneuvered into a parking spot near the crime scene and we got out.

What do you think, Kat? Overtime? Greg chuckled. It was said in joke, but it was likely. I shrugged. Down time was more precious than extra pay. There’s Mac. Get the details from him. Greg motioned toward the alley and then moved over to crowd control. Kat was everyone’s nickname for me. My real name is Katherine and the abbreviated version they used didn’t bother me. I responded to a lot of names. Katherine, Kathy, Kat, Kate, Cop, Bitch. I nodded and slammed shut my door. Greg always let me take the wet work. We both understood I was better at it.

Roger that, I said and took a sip from my espresso. Its seeping warmth oozed through straight to my bones, fending off the winter chill.

I looked ahead and saw Mac. They had taped off the site and secured the perimeter, but we were the first from Homicide on site. Mac was Vice Squad, but a damn fine detective. He had been closer when the call came in, so he detoured to baby-sit it for us. He must have been the first plainclothes officer to arrive.

I shot a glance at Greg who was talking with the blues to see what they had before I slipped under the yellow tape and headed over to Mac. He was directing the photographer but noticed me and gave a terse nod, followed by a smile.

Whatcha got, Mac? I asked. All we got on the way over was a possible murder in the alley behind the Diamond Head.

Mac Talbot was a distinguished guy. Taller than average, maybe six one, early forties, and a subtle touch of salt at the temples. That made him kind of handsome in my book. It was the moustache that ruined the impression though, not to mention he was married. I try not to be picky, but then, I didn’t have time for relationships anyway. But yeah, I had noticed him before. Nice guy, just not my type. But then, who was?

They thought it was an accident, but the rookie F.O.S noticed some blood splattered over here on the wall. It doesn’t match the victim I don’t think. Hard to get the blood over here from where the body fell, Mac said grimly. That was a sharp eye by the First On Scene. The blood was practically the same color as the rust colored bricks.

Confirming a blood match would be simple. I had the necessary equipment in my kit. A thousand scenarios came to mind that could put the body’s blood on the wall ten feet away, but you had to go with your instincts, and Mac’s told him it wasn’t a match. Mine told me Mac was probably right.

I nodded, meeting Mac’s purposeful stare. His brown eyes were sharp, hawk-like and they had that cunning depth most detectives had. It was like he was looking straight through your thoughts to the truth. I’ve been told my eyes do the same thing, but it usually wasn’t what people noticed first about me. I wish it were.

The boys always treated me differently. I tried not to jump to conclusions but it seemed because I was a woman, or maybe it was because I was the top detective. Whatever the case, apparently talking to me like a robot made it easier not to stare at my chest. It didn’t exactly stop them either. I was what some referred to as top heavy, but they weren’t that big. However they made treating me like one of the guys impossible, I guess. I was used to it.

How contaminated is the scene? I asked. I needed to know what I was up against. Every additional officer poking about the site risked a clue getting trampled. Unlike the TV shows, we didn’t really have all that super high-tech crime lab crap. At least, not here in Cleveland. We did things the old fashioned way and we were damned good at it. But each clue was a fountain of knowledge and we couldn’t afford to lose a single one.

I looked over the scene. It was pretty gruesome. Subject number one was still hanging upside down by the heel and shin from the fire escape’s metal rung ladder. His face remained twisted in a horrified death gaze. It hadn’t been painless. The way his head hung tight to his shoulders was odd and the angle told me his spine was a mess.

Reviews for Dark is the Night

[jessica5_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book was interesting from the first page on. I loved how it opened up with a killing from the vampire right off the bat. It gave it a dark, edgy vibe that really made me want to read more. The idea of a vampire and the detective investigating the deaths he caused who fall in love is really intriguing and not the usual overdone vampire story. What I didn't like was how it was more about their relationship and we only got a little of the actual storyline of her as a detective. It turned from a crime/thriller into a love story real fast and I just wish that there were more thriller moments than there actually were. One other thing that I didn't get was how the vampire suddenly had telekenisis halfway through the story and that was the only time he used it. I feel like it was just like, "oh yeah, he can do that because that makes it easier" instead of making him have to work to do what he was doing at the moment. Other than that, it was a good story full of passion yet scary vampires that can rip your head of in the blink of an eye. I was glad to get a break from the lovey-dovey vampire stories and read about so pretty kick-butt vampires for a change.