The Deal Maker

By M. Currie

Joanna has been sober a year after spending most of her teenage years partying and getting into all sorts of trouble. However, being sober hasn’t made her life any better. After living in her car and barely scraping by for several months, Joanna is faced with another concern she thought she’d never have to even think about again: Vampires.
After being viciously attacked and miraculously surviving, Joanna is forced to go against her nature and ask for help from her one and only friend. But her troubles only increase when she is taken to face one of the most deadly vampires around, all because she didn’t die. Joanna’s capability to fight and survive catches the eye of a powerful vampire who wants something from her, resulting in an interesting deal to use her dangerous skills for his own purpose.

But is that all he wants?

• Language: English
• Publisher: M. Currie
• Release date: Jan 27, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311461544

M. Currie

M. Currie has adored writing for several years now and has written over seven books. Currie's favorite genre to write is YA, Science-Fiction, Romance, and Fantasy. As well as being a writer, she loves television and is majorly obsessed with multiple shows from Doctor Who to Once Upon a Time, and hopes to one day write for television.Thanks to the incredible support online, she has completed latest book, The Deal Maker, and it has become the first novel she has published!

Book preview

Vampires do exist. I know this, I've known this. I'll never forget their existence, even when I'm old and know nothing else but when to take my next pill or when my diaper needs changing. They exist. They walk, they talk, they think, they shop, they kill, they destroy, they drive, and they even sometimes love. More importantly, I hate them. I’ve spent nine years of my life living in a tortured paranoid mess because of them. Well, to be more specific, because of one of them.

I was ten, it was dark, and I was sitting on the front steps with an ice cream cone while my mom had a screaming fit with her boyfriend she had at the time. I remember every detail of that night, ever gust of wind that blew, even the color the trees looked in the faint glow of the moon. I was watching the cars go by faster than they should while I swatted away mosquitoes and licked away the chocolate ice cream from my fingers. I remember seeing my neighbor, Victoria, who was just getting home from her part time job at the movie theater. Her long golden hair was tied back while her bangs tuck to her forehead because of the humidity. I had always liked Victoria for her beauty and her generosity after she had given me her old toys. She had walked up the hilly sidewalk with her hand in her backpack, most likely searching for her keys.

I should have screamed or maybe ran for help when I saw him. He was tall with broad shoulders and a shaved head. I even remember the black tank top and dirty black jeans he wore as he approached her much like a cat would a mouse. His dark eyes were focused only on her, not even noticing the little girl on the steps with a melting ice cream cone in her hand. The way he moved was unnatural, almost too fast for a normal man. Victoria never even heard him behind her. I remember the way fear had paralyzed me as he placed his large hand over her mouth and bent down to where his lips touched her neck. If I had seen this from another angle, I would have thought he was kissing her. But, at the angle I was sitting, I had noticed his jaw move and his mouth clamping on her neck. The color of red which dripped down her shoulder and onto her yellow work uniform was something I would never erase from my mind.

So here was this little ten year old girl—already screwed up thanks to her screwed up mother—witnessing a murder. I remember dropping the cone in my hand and watching as the man’s head snapped in my direction, cold consumed me when I looked into his dark eyes had been with me since that night. I had run to the door and threw myself in just as he reached the steps. At the time, I was baffled that he didn’t come in and grab me. He stood on the steps, just outside of the door. No one found Victoria, and she became that teenager who everyone thought had become a runaway. I learned that night, after telling my mom, that no one would believe the child with a drug addict mother.

So yes, I know about vampires. But you know what is so much worse than them? Life.

Chapter One

Joanna Garth

2008

My breath came out in white cloudy huffs as I trudged through the snow in my cracked boots and holey wool socks. It was freaking cold out, to the point of my hand shaking as I reached for the doorknob. Too bad I never got my car to work; otherwise I wouldn’t have had to walk two miles, at night, through the snow. It never bothered me to walk alone in the dark. It was the bitter cold that caused me to curse under my breath the whole walk. I even got snow inside my boots where it melted and made my socks heavy with freezing water.

The moment I stepped into the florescent lit building I was greeting by the glorious warmth which consumed me. I let out a pleasant sigh and unwrapped my arms from my around my body, enjoying the way the heat blew on me from the wall vent. This was what made the walk worth it. Reluctantly, I walked away from the warmth and made my way down the brightly lit hall and through the squeaky door I’ve walked through about a hundred times. It was like walking home.

Joanna! You’ve made it, David boomed, his hazel eyes filled with excitement as I walked stiffly into the room.

I gave an awkward smile before going to the coffee maker. Unfortunately, I had to wait in a small line as others swarmed around the hot beverage machine with desperation in their eyes. Some were desperate for the warmth while others were desperate for the distraction. I was growing impatient, as always, as a woman finished off the coffee and left the empty pot by the sink.

Bitch, I muttered under my breath and snatched up the pot before filling it full of water.

We’re about ready to start… David’s voice was hesitant, and I realized that everyone was staring at me.

Awkward.

Oh, I was just making another pot for everyone. Go ahead and start if you want, I encouraged in a snarky tone in because I had to make another pot of coffee.

David smiled. He rarely got mad at me. Go ahead, we’ll wait.

I felt eyes on my back as I poured myself a steaming cup and added the usual bit of milk and two packs of sugar. After taking a few sips, I took my seat next to David and waited for him to begin.

How is everyone this week? Who would like to start? he asked as he rubbed his hands together for warmth.

No one spoke, as usual. No one honestly wants to speak in an AA/NA meeting. Who would want to bring up their addictive past? Who would want to speak about their hard times on the street? I focused solely on my hot coffee, which actually wasn’t settling well on my empty stomach.

My sister said I could spend Christmas with her family, a tiny voice squeaked.

Everyone, including me, looked up in surprise. Marie, a short and slightly heavy girl about my age, had spoken for possibly the first time since entering our little group. She had come here just a few months back after spending a year with a screwed up boyfriend—David once told this to us when Marie first joined—and hasn’t said much since.

That’s fantastic, Marie. Are you happy about it? David was using almost a teacher-like tone as he addressed her directly.

She smiled, her full lips fresh with gloss. I’m extremely happy. She said if I was at least three months clean, I could stay with her family over the holidays. I’ve kept my promise.

We all gave a cheerful clap while David cheered her on for her accomplishment. I felt my stomach growl, momentarily distracting me from the group.

…right?

I quickly looked at David with a puzzled expression. Huh?

You have something incredible to share with us tonight, right? A huge accomplishment.

I pursed my lips, trying to figure out what in the heck he was speaking about.

Joanna, you’ve been clean for an entire year now!

Realization hit me as everyone clapped in celebration. Has it been a year? Seems like a hell of a lot longer. Oh, I whispered as I began to grasp my one year of being sober.

When I realized it was Joanna’s one year of being free, I decided to have a celebration with some cake after the meeting, David announced, causing everyone to clap louder than they had for my big news. I was so hungry that even I didn’t care about my accomplishment.

Thanks, I muttered under my breath. I was never one for the spotlight.

David rubbed my back in a comforting way, though it became increasingly awkward the longer he rubbed. I’ve always known that he loves to serve and help every person who crawls through the doors in need of help. He once told me that he was in worse shape than I had been when I came here, and that he even robbed for money. I didn’t tell him that I had done worse than that for just a bag of Mary Jane. That’s the beauty of this place, we’re all screwed up.

I think you should say something, maybe tell people your story for some inspiration…? he hinted as he slowly dropped his hand.

I pursed my lips because I hated speaking with several people watching me. I’m more of a one-on-one type. But David’s intense blue-eyed stare filled with kindness forced me out of my hard shell. Um, I guess I could start with how I became what I was…. I looked at him with panic in my eyes.

Go ahead while I get you cake. He knew that would be enough to get me to spill my heart out.

My childhood was probably a lot like those in this group. My mom was screwed up and on drugs with a new guy in the house twice a week. We were abused, me and my younger sister, with new bruises on our bodies every week. I had to take care of my sister when my mom would be missing for days on some kind of party crap. You’d think that seeing how screwed up her life had become that I’d get a good education and make something of myself. I paused as my hard shell began to crack. Spilling my life story out should be easy by now, yet I still find it just as challenging to speak about as it was the first time.

Don’t worry, no one is ever here to judge.

I nodded. "Well, I fell into the same pattern as my mom by the age of fifteen. I was on drugs, partying, drinking, and doing whatever I wanted. I abandoned my sister and even my mom, though she never noticed. I’ve seen things that no one ever should see, and I’ve done things I hope no one ever knows about. I’ve been in so many dangerous situations that it’s a wonder how I’m still alive. I’ve been shot in the leg, stabbed in the hand, and have had my bones broken all because of my wild journey.

None of it ever bothered me, even almost dying multiple times. A little over a year ago I was walking around in search for my dealer, as I usually did. That’s when I saw my baby sister I hadn’t spoken to in months. I tears threatened burst out of me as I thought of Cindy. The memory of that ice-cold moonlit night would forever haunt me. S-She was as skinny as a pole and smoking like a chimney. I learned that night that she was selling her body for drugs and was living on the street."

David took the coffee cup from my hands and poured me some more as a way to comfort me in my horrible story. I smiled at him, though it wasn’t a happy smile because I was barely holding it together.

I saw how bruised and broken she was, and yet she would do anything for a smoke or whatever. When she saw me she wasn’t even surprised. I, however, lost my temper and exploded on her about being barely sixteen and selling herself for crap. The screaming fight became a physical one and ended with her telling me that I was a hypocrite. It wasn’t until I walked away when I realized how she was completely right. I truly was. So a few days later I crawled into this exact building and threw myself down at David’s feet for help.

He laughed at the memory. She actually did, although she wasn’t as desperate for the following days when she cussed me out during detox. That was lovely, wasn’t it?

My lips tugged into a smile at his teasing tone. Pretty sure I bit your hand, twice.

He held up hit hand. I needed stitches.

This guy never gave up. I’ve made it one year because of him. I looked over at him. Thank you. My emotional rollercoaster moment come to an end as the wall I’ve worked so hard to build for myself consumed me. I ignored everyone looking at me and pictured only bodies with no faces. For some reason, that always helped me in difficult situations.

We all ate cake and ‘mingled’ as the meeting went on. There was a new face to our group—which was normal, though we lose people just as often—and everyone seemed to be extremely intrigued by whom they were. It was a just a middle-aged man with a graying beard and tired eyes. I was only interested for a minute before quickly losing interest and going after my third slice of cake and yet another donut—donuts always seem to be here, though they’re mostly stale—and finishing them off with a forth small cup of coffee. My exhaustion from being weak the past few days began to slowly fade as my stomach took in all of the sugar eagerly.

How have things been going? David asked, his voice startling me because I was so focused on other peoples’ conversations.

Huh? Oh, fine, I guess. Alright, I lied, it’s not like I’ve never done that before.

He gave me a look I recognized. His eyes narrowed just barely and he looked down at his little cup. He didn’t believe me. Mmm-hmm…

I scowled at him and adjusted my baggy coat. Things have been better. But I’m in a much better situation now than I have been in years. It was mostly true, at least.

Have you found a job yet?

So we were getting right to the bitter topics, were we? Damn you, David. No, but I’ve been hunting for one.

He nodded, satisfied with my answer. You’re looking kind of rough. Have you been sick?

Thanks, that is just what a girl wants to hear.

Joanna… Sarcasm is just a way to cover things up. Are you okay?

Don’t make eye contact and keep expression blank, I thought to myself as I tried to think of how to answer him. No, I wasn’t. Like I said, things have been better.

There was this incredibly awkward silence between us as we faced each other with empty cups and nothing more to say. But he surprised me. Anytime you need anything at all, just call me, even if I have to pick you up late at night at a payphone.

His kindness was touching to the core. Yet I was hesitant to reply. Kindness always came with a price, right? That’s what I’ve learned, at least. David has always been extremely generous without wanting anything in return. But what he just offered had to come with a price because no one offers something so huge to a person like me. Thanks… I better go freshen up before I go home…

He stepped aside as I made my way towards the tiny bathroom down the hall. I had to get away and collect my thoughts. Apparently tonight was the night to be a wreck. I closed the heavy white door behind me and pressed the lock button twice to make sure it actually was locked. I despise push locks. The florescent lighting did not do me justice as I stood in front of the slightly smeared-looking mirror. When was the last time I looked so off? I mean, I used to look like crap back in the day, but now I just looked like a diseased hobo who is in their fifties.

Was this why David made comment about my looks? My long dark hair was frizzy and almost filthy looking as the split ends hung all the way to my elbows. I looked at my sunken-in dark eyes in sort of a disturbed way. Is this what death looked like? The word vampire flashed through my head like a fading echo. Sure I looked dead, but vampires even had more life in them than I did in me. I took off my heavy coat and stared at the frail girl in the mirror. My body was practically a straight line, lacking any shape or curve. Truth is, I’m starving. I doubt I’ve had a decent meal in weeks. I needed money so terribly that I was almost to the point of begging. For me, asking or begging for help was the most degrading thing you could ever do, ever. I was sickly looking all because I was too prideful to ask for a burger or a few bucks.

I pulled the coat back on and bundled up in preparation for my journey back home. When I came out of the bathroom I realized almost everyone had left. Only the new guy and David remained as they picked up the chairs and made a few comments back and forth.

Oh, hey, I thought you left. I meant to give you this… David reached for a pink box and placed it in my hands.

Curiously, I opened it up and took delight in seeing the leftover cake and a few donuts stored inside. He did know what I needed, maybe because he watched over me like some kind of an angel? Thanks, I said for the millionth time that night.

No problem. You seemed to enjoy it.

It was obvious in his eyes that he actually meant you look like you need it. But he didn’t want us to argue, which we would have if he had said it. I said my goodbyes and held the box to my chest as if it were a precious baby. The snow blew viciously into my eyes and mouth like an enemy. My nose numbed and my toes ached as I headed block after block towards my home.

After the long hike, I finally made it to a place I called home. Parked in a rarely used parking section of a parking garage was my 1984-85 Chevrolet Cavalier. Its two doors were just about as dented as they could get and the duct tape which held one of the windows together only seemed to display how crappy of a car it was. It was a burnt orange rusty piece of junk, but it was home. I was lucky, to be honest. Others would have to live in a box under a bridge or something. Instead I get to live in a car with a heater—even though it breaks every other night—and blankets. The car rarely drove, but I rigged it to where it at least created some heat. Illinois can get pretty cold near Chicago, especially in early December.

I climbed into the car and locked all of the doors, as if someone would actually steal from me. My hands were shaking so terribly from the cold that I had difficulty getting my heater to work because I couldn’t turn the key. Usually I would just climb under my blankets, but it was bitterly cold and I couldn’t seem to warm myself. Every piece of me felt like ice, and this made me paranoid that I’d break into pieces.

My car was packed full of clothes, blankets, pillows, and random junk from my childhood. For some reason I was compelled to look at childhood box which was buried underneath some dirty t-shirts and a pair of boots. I looked into the cardboard box with bitterness. There wasn’t much, to be honest. I held up pictures I had drawn at a young age and compared one year with the next. At age six I had been drawing hearts and stars, and by age eight I had upgraded to drawing creepy people with lopsided eyes and giant lips. Why I kept these pictures I’ll never understand. I guess the thought of my mother tossing them in the trashcan the moment I left sounded wrong to me. I held up a picture I had drawn at age ten and felt my veins turn to ice. It was a picture of Victoria, my old neighbor. Sure the picture was goofy looking, but I knew what a dark time I was going through when I drew the picture, and also what the grey smear was just behind her. I must have drawn that man a hundred times that year, yet each time I seemed to either freak out or not get him exactly right and would erase him.

I stuffed the pictures back into the box and huddled under the blankets, shivering. My breath came out in white puffs and I immediately knew it was going to be a horrible night of nothing but shivering and teeth chattering.

Chapter Two

Unwelcomed Guests

Snow began to coat the streets, nearly making them invisible. I was silently thankful that I wore a bright red coat in this blindingly white road. Not many were out, though it was noon. Most were working or in their comfy houses by a fire with some hot coffee. Not me. My car’s heater refused to work so I was forced to walk from store to store until they kicked me out for looking suspicious. I can’t blame them, honestly, because I have stolen once or four times before. I lose count. I guess my wild hair, tired eyes, and hungry expression gave me away.

The smell of garlic bread hit my nose the moment I turned a corner, causing my stomach to growl furiously. I was starving, again. The last time I had eaten was a bag of chips I managed to get for a dollar last night. My body was weakening as I walked, but the smell of garlic woke me up. I saw a tiny Italian restaurant nestled between two buildings. There were several people inside, it was lunch time, and the smells which hit my nose was enough to make me crazy with hunger. When was the last time I’ve had an actual meal? A week? Two weeks? A month? I couldn’t resist as I entered the magnificently warm place. My legs had a mind of their own as they wobbled towards the restaurant in determination.

A hostess stood behind her tiny counter with her pale blue eyes looking dreamily out at the snow. She was obviously enjoying the atrocious snow. I stood there awkwardly, immediately regretting my decision of coming inside because the smell was so much stronger. My stomach clenched inside of me as my dry mouth filled with saliva. I was so close to eating off of other people’s plates that I actually held onto the narrow waiting bench to keep me from doing it.

How many? a small voice chirped. The hostess woke up out of her daydreaming.

I looked behind me to make sure that she was, in fact, talking to the frail wild girl with holes in her jacket and black rings under her eyes. That’s when my second nature emerged. Just one, my boyfriend canceled on me. Whoa, where did that come from? Lying was sometimes so effortless for me that I could do it without knowing it.

She frowned in sympathy. Your reservation?

Oh crap, I didn’t think it was a reservation type of a place. I don’t know if he had put it under his name or mine… I looked over her shoulder at the tiny stone fireplace which sat at the far end of the room. The place was so cozy that I momentarily forgot that I was talking. Is that a wood burning fireplace? I asked, trying to keep my voice in a dreamy state so that I wouldn’t alarm her.

She glanced at the fireplace with a small smile playing on her pink lips. Although it was a brief look, it was enough for me to quickly choose two names on her list. Yes, it is.

It’s beautiful. I thought about installing one in my living room, but I didn’t know how much heat it radiated. Hmm, did he put it under Callahan?

She ran her finger over the list. Callahan is a party of four… Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

I played it cool and kept my voice calm. Well, that’s not him then. Such a common name, I guess. It might be under my last name, Waters. If that didn’t work, I’d have to leave the restaurant immediately before they got management out to kick my ass out.

Oh, here you are. Table for two? Should I change it to one?

Tears almost sprung in my eyes. My luck was high today. Yes, just one.

Right this way. She grabbed a menu and some silverware before leading me down a narrow aisle and to a tiny table with two chairs. I took off my jacket and sat it on the back of my chair. What would you like to drink?

Just a coke… No, make that water and some coffee.

She nodded and left.

I got up and went into the bathroom to make myself look decent. I looked like crap and already had heads turn my way when I got seated. The bathroom was just a simple three stall one with a black countertop and red tile. Nothing special. Keeping my mind off of how creepy I looked, I brushed my fingers through my dull dark hair until it was knot-free and somewhat decent looking. I grabbed a paper towel and wet it with some water and soap before scrubbing my dirty face and arms. My faded dark green sweater was beyond fixing because there were so many strands sticking out that there was no point in attempting to fix it. I’ll just claim my boyfriend is cheap.

After making myself look almost average, I went back to my seat and sipped on my drink in absolute delight. The icy water sent chills down my spine, but it was fantastic to have something drink other than tap water from bathrooms. The coffee was even lovelier than the water because of how strong and hot it was. A man came to my table, his youthful face glowing with kindness as he refilled my coffee.

I’m Scott and I’ll be your waiter today. Have you decided on what you wanted? he asked with a pen already prepared to write.

I decided to get something that would hold me for a long time. I’ll take the parmesan chicken with a Caesar side salad and some breadsticks.

Great! I’ll bring it out soon.

Time seemed to go by quickly as I sat in wooden chair with my eyes on the glowing fire. When my food came I was nearly digging in before the waiter left. Once I placed the first bite of chicken into my mouth, life seemed wonderful for just a moment. I forgot all of my starving, freezing nights and was momentarily drowning in the pleasure of food. Is this what people with money experience every day? I’ve never, ever had money, at least not enough for a fancy meal like this. Yesterday I wouldn’t have been desperate enough to pull a stunt like this, but now I was questioning why I didn’t do it sooner. My stomach filled after I finished the last breadstick, emptying all of the plates in front of me. I finished my coffee and realized that it was time to do something extremely risky.

My movements were careful and precise as I pulled on my jacket and kept the same kind smile on my lips. I headed toward the front exit because the back was too filled with people heading to the restroom. As I passed a table I immediately caught side of a twenty dollar bill just sitting on the wood table in between a parmesan shaker and some toothpicks. This made me pause briefly because I thought why would a waiter need this much? Without second thought, I put the money in my coat pocket and continued my walked out of the place. When I made it through the doors it was as if a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. After I passed by the window I immediately began running because I knew they’d be looking for the girl who didn’t pay for her expensive meal.

Did this strength always fill my body when I ate a full meal? I felt as if I could lift cars. By the time I made it back to my ‘home’ where no one bothered to disturb, it was already dark out. I got into my car and nestled under the covers with a grin on my face. My body was so relaxed that I began to drift in and out of sleep within seconds.

I don’t know what woke me up, but the moment I did I sat up and looked around me. It was still dark out, about three in the morning according to my cracked digital watch. Why was I awake? I was sleeping so well! It couldn’t have been a dream because I was so exhausted that I didn’t even dream. Again, I looked around the dark parking garage with squinty eyes.

There, right in the corner was five men. I froze, astonished by what I was seeing. For one, people don’t usually use this parking area because it was too high up. Second, my car was the only car in this level. So how did they get here and why were they here? Drugs? I looked closer over my car seat. No, not drugs, because they were too calm and clean looking to be into drugs. I knew the type because, after all, I was one.

One man seemed pretty observant as he continued looking in my direction. Another man kept doing something with his finger, like licking them or biting his nails, I wasn’t sure. The other three were talking so low that I could barely hear them. I was so still that my muscles locked into place.

Max, one man called to another in a low voice.

I saw the man who spoke look in my direction again, his eyes dark with a creepy expression plastered on his slightly lumpy face. The man, whose name is apparently Max, looked in my direction as well as if he knew I was in here. He glanced at the other three and their heads snapped into my direction.

They were all staring at my car.

My heart began to pound as I watched them. Their lips curved into a large smile in unison. That’s when I noticed something familiar about them, about their expressions. I thought back to the night where I sat on the porch with my ice cream cone and watched my neighbor get murdered. It was the exact same dark, hungry expression as the men.

They were vampires.

I’ve always been prepared for a fight, whether it’s with a dealer I used to buy from or even a mugger. But I came to the horrifying realization that I didn’t have a clue how to kill