Christopher and Gaspar: The Vampire Society, #1

By Vicky Calzo

The Vampire Society, volume 1; 209 pages

 

Chosen to be a vampire from before he was born, Christopher is destined to become involved in a deadly struggle between the followers of the vampire god Zenith and Radu's rebels.

Christopher was an average high school graduate until one moonlit evening, unexpected neighbors move in next door. Among them is a dashing vampire named Gaspar. Was it love at first sight, destiny, or both that brought them together? And so begins the impassioned friendship between Christopher and his enchanting new companion. As the two grow closer, Christopher's father becomes more hateful and unruly toward Gaspar and his stepfathers. As Christopher prepares to transition into a vampire, there is more than a father's disapproval to overcome. Evil lurks among the shadows, desperate to destroy the relationship between Christopher and Gaspar. Will their love be strong enough to keep them together, or will the pressures force them to go their separate ways? Can mere mortals survive in the vampires' world?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vicky Calzo
• Release date: Oct 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201170394

Book preview

Chapter One

Gaspar

His door was the sole fixture at the end of a long hallway out on the third floor of a grand mansion. Closing the door and cutting off the empty hallway eased his feeling of seclusion. Gaspar sat upon the lush velvet cushions in his favorite armchair by the fireplace. His golden eyes scintillated in the firelight as he scanned the aged page of the first printing of Dracula. It had been gifted and signed by Bram Stoker himself, wishing Gaspar happiness and thanking him for his eagerness to own a copy. Though Gaspar knew the story well and loved it above all other books, tonight he could not focus on the narrative. He read, but his mind was elsewhere. It always wandered back to the same solitary subject, like a worn-out wax record playing repeatedly on a clockwork phonograph. Those thoughts persisted, regardless of his attempts to silence them or distract himself. Like this book in his hand, the story always read the same and ended in the same place. It made no difference. Distractions worked for a little while until loneliness tugged at his aching heart. He could not shut out what he was. Even within this cocoon, the lonely bed-chamber had too much space for one person. His lush, queen-size bed was too large and felt... empty. The solitude was unbearable. How many times had he lain there, surrounded by silken pillows, shut in by the canopy of his four-post bed, wishing he could share it with someone, until the utter silence of the room overcame him? Too many times.

And this fireplace, mocking him with its comforting warmth and soothing crackle. Did it not know he was sitting here alone, with no mate to hold in his arms, to cuddle, to kiss, to make love to?

There it goes again. The gaping hole in his heart ached, a lump formed in his throat, his eyes welled up.

His gaze shifted to his coffin, his only solace. At least inside there, he could tune everything out. As much as his sensitive vampire hearing would allow, anyway. Inside the pitch blackness, he could not view his empty surroundings. There was peace, quiet, and darkness. Only there the terrible pain in his heart subsided, the lump in his throat dissipated, and the tears dried up and disappeared.

Of course, he was not the only one living in the mansion.

His gaze flitted to his bedroom door as he heard the bustling servants. They handled the upkeep of the enormous mansion and its sprawling manicured grounds. There were also his adoptive vampire parents, François DeSalle and Jacques LaBaron. Thinking about them caused the light to break through his dark emotions. He owed them his past human life and his present vampire existence. He loved his vampire parents, and they loved him. This love helped him through his darkest times. Even though he was happy with them and loved them, they reminded him he remained companionless.

François and Jacques always comforted and encouraged Gaspar, reminding him that Zenith’s choice was always perfect and worth the wait. Then Gaspar would retreat to his room and bow down before Zenith in tearful prayer, begging and asking how much longer. Zenith heard Gaspar’s prayers and caught every fallen tear. He whispered to Gaspar to be patient and to wait, that one would come. Also, he renewed Gaspar’s strength and patience. Zenith monitored Gaspar’s heart and spirit, understanding the struggle within him. But his beloved servant's will remained strong, determined to obey and serve his god. Zenith’s pride and love for his servant never faltered or waned, and promised to reward such loyalty, devotion, and patience.

François and Jacques were downstairs right now, doing one of two things. They watched TV while cuddled on the sofa. Or, Jacques read, while François played on the grand piano.    

Gaspar placed his book on his lampstand and rose from his armchair. He levitated off the floor and toward his bedroom door, which opened at his approach. Gaspar floated out of his room and headed for the grand staircase. From his vantage point, he peered into the living room. François and Jacques ignored the TV as they sat on the sofa, talking and laughing. François's slim frame cuddled against Jacques's more muscular form. Gaspar’s heart glowed as he watched their lips meet in a warm kiss. Regardless, his shoulders slumped, and his already somber facial expression crumpled even more. He heaved a heavy sigh as he dragged himself back to his room.

The warmth of watching his parents loving each other filled his heart with joy. But the emotion was a two-edged sword. This same warmth singed his heart with the fiery truth he was still alone with no companion to call his own.

He slumped against his bedroom door and lifted his gaze toward the high ceiling. His focus stretched beyond the confines of the mansion, reaching to the heavens of the Vampire God’s realm. How long? How much longer do I have to wait, my lord?

Be patient, Gaspar, came Zenith's deep, gentle voice inside Gaspar's spirit.

It was always the same answer, had been for two-hundred eighteen years now. Gaspar pushed himself off the door and returned to his chair. Throwing himself down into it, he snatched his book off the stand and opened it. He had to read the same page because he could not concentrate on it long enough to finish it.

Two-hundred eighteen years! For over two centuries, Gaspar had been waiting for Zenith to grant him his forever mate, his eternal companion. How much longer would he have to wait? Another two centuries? Had he not waited long enough? Damn! This is hopeless! Be patient? To hell with patience! When was it going to be his chance? Perhaps never.

Despair and gloom settled over him like a heavy shroud. The weight of it made him slouch in his chair. He was unworthy. Zenith must be still punishing him for his disobedience when he first changed into a vampire. Zenith had not forgiven him after all, and had no intention of ever giving him a companion. Undeniable feelings of despair and worthlessness caused a pang in his heart. A lump formed in his throat, tears welled up, and numbness took over his body. He was not good enough. He had never had Zenith's favor returned to him. After all this time, he thought the Vampire God forgave him and welcomed him back into the fold. He bowed his head in shame, and his body drooped like a wilted flower as he wept harder. If it were possible for a vampire to commit suicide, he would do so right now. It would be preferable to the languish and longing he endured; the wishing and yearning.

Gaspar?

Knowing Zenith would disapprove of his destructive thoughts, he cringed with guilt. Oui, my lord?

But instead of a reprimand, Gaspar sensed pleasure and joy in Zenith's spirit.

Then the Vampire God announced the words Gaspar had been waiting over two lonely centuries to hear. Your companion has been born.

Gaspar’s eyes widened, and his body tingled with anticipation as his soul sang. Elation and relief replaced the pain. Despite himself, he laughed. No wonder I had to wait so long! My companion had not even been born yet! He guffawed at his limited knowledge, ignorance, faltering faith, and disbelief. How all-knowing and all-wise Zenith is while I am so spoiled, whiny, and self-loathing! I want to see him! Please, my lord, may I see him?

Zenith chuckled. Of course. I will allow you to view him through my eyes.

He observed in awe as his bed-chamber shimmered and morphed into a hospital room. He placed his book on his stand once again, rose from his chair, and followed Zenith's lead. The Vampire God led him to a hospital bed where a pretty blonde-haired, blue-eyed human woman sat, her face all aglow. A tall human male with brunet hair and green eyes stood by her side, holding her hand.

Gaspar followed their gaze.

A nurse entered the room and approached them, carrying a compact bundle in her arms. Here's your son, Mr. and Mrs. Tyler.

As Gaspar watched the nurse place his tiny companion into the arms of his mother, his heart fluttered with joy.

Thank you so much! Oh, Tom! Isn't he beautiful?

He sure is, Christy. He has your hair and eyes.

Christy giggled. Yes, he does, doesn't he?

Tom chuckled. He's the spitting image of you, Christy.

Christy laughed, wiping at her tears.

Zenith guided Gaspar to a space behind Christy's right shoulder. Now the vampire had an unobstructed view of his companion's cherubic face. His countenance lit up as he whispered the first phrase that came to mind, describing the boy’s features. Angel-boy.

Christy kissed the soft head of her baby boy. Christopher Thomas, I loved you before I ever saw you.

Gaspar thrilled to hear the name given to the precious infant.

Tom glanced askance at his new son and spoke tenderly. Your mother’s ego knows no bounds. Although I get second billing, know that I love you just as much as she does.

Though this pleased her to know that Tom loved his boy, Christy playfully swatted him. Don’t flatter yourself. Men can’t understand how a woman’s soul intertwines with her child. It bonded us in flesh. Carefully cradling Christopher’s head, she placed the infant securely in her husband’s uneasy arms. Learn his every feature, be with him every moment you can, and then maybe - just maybe - your love might approach that of a mother’s.

Tom chuckled. Oh, okay. Whatever you say, Christy. Joking aside, he proudly studied the little babe, Christopher Thomas.

The tiny boy, unable to focus and bothered by the bright lights, closed his milky-blue eyes and wrapped his little fingers around his father’s comparatively large thumb.

Christy reached over and folded the blanket snugly around the infant’s tiny body.

When Christopher shut his eyes, Gaspar’s heart melted, and a tear rolled down his pale cheek. I love him already! I will protect him no matter what or who! Oh, please, Zenith, do not let me part from him! I beg thee! Let me stay here!

Be at peace, Gaspar, Zenith assured his loyal servant. Your souls will join soon. But for now, as a compass needle points true north, your souls will point toward each other.

This pleased Gaspar. Can I be with him in spirit even while my body is sleeping?

Yes, you can.

Excellent! Oh, merci, dear Zenith!

You’re welcome, my child.

With a grin that would have made the Cheshire cat jealous, Gaspar stared at his beloved companion.

Then Zenith coaxed, We must go now.

In a moment, Gaspar found himself back in his bed-chamber, standing beside his bed. His joy made him feather-light. He saw his companion! His forever mate! Laughter bubbled up from his gut to his throat, and he threw his head back, letting it escape with abandon. He thrust his fists in the air in triumph. Merci, dear Zenith!

You are welcome, my dear child.

With an exuberant whoop, he exploded from his bedroom and raced downstairs, where his parents and the servants stood, bemusement on their upturned faces.            

Fathers! Fathers!

What is it, Gaspar? François asked.

What is going on, son? Jacques added.

He's here! My mate has been born!

Chapter Two

Chris

Three months ago, around three in the morning, eighteen-year-old Christopher Thomas awakened to the sound of a vehicle. He crept to his bedroom window, hoping to discover what was going on. What he found was a moving van parked in the driveway next door. He watched as four men carried furniture, candelabras, and other forms of gothic décor into the house. The last things they took in were two wooden boxes. One was about seven feet long, the other about six feet long. These boxes appeared spacious enough for a grown man to fit into. Especially the first box. It was twice as wide as the second. He hoped the light of day would reveal who the new neighbors would be, but he found this to be of no avail when he discovered he could not see inside. Somehow, Chris knew in his heart, as if someone had whispered it to him, that he was the only one who saw what happened that night. So, he kept it to himself, not saying a word to anyone. Something or someone told him not to.

The vacant brick house next door appeared to take care of itself. No outside maintenance was necessary. This paranormal evidence, plus the creepy vibe the building gave off, kept people at bay. Chris saw many potential homeowners come and go. So many people tried to own the house, but they never lived in it for long. The banks attempted to reclaim the home, but it always fell through. Rumors started circulating that it was haunted, although there was never any proof of this. People reported nothing unusual happening while living there. Maybe they couldn’t because it was too horrifying, Chris thought. Or they feared others may think them crazy. Nah, that’s not it. It simply meant the house was for someone specific to live in it.

Chris was not sure what it was about the place, but whenever he came near it, static electricity emanated from it. Also, when he peeked in the windows, he could discern nothing. It was always dark inside, even in the daytime. It was as if the house closed in on itself as it waited for its rightful owners. Whoever they’re going to be. It would be great if a gothic family moved in. Maybe that’s what the house is waiting for. Or even better, would be if vampires moved in. Oh, but then again, maybe not. Vampires should stay as far away from the house as possible. Or deal with my vampire-hating dad. They’ll be miserable because Dad will make their every waking moment a living hell. They'd have to move out because of it. Better off with a gothic family. At least Dad would be more accepting of them for the simple fact they'd be human.

For countless centuries, the human population knew vampires existed, even though they kept to themselves most of the time. It was uncommon to see them mingling with humans. This was because they slept during the day, coming out at night to do whatever they do.

Chris went inside to join his brother in playing a video game or two before going to bed. As he closed the screen door behind him, he heard a car head down the street. He did a double-take when he realized it was no ordinary car but a shiny black Lamborghini! He could not help but stand at the door and watch the vehicle as it made its way down the street. Holy shit! Hey, Billy! C'mere, quick!

Gaspar

It was finally happening ! Zenith had them wait until Christopher Thomas turned eighteen before instructing the trio to move to America. Once there, they would live next door to Christopher. In this way, Gaspar could take him through his Year of Preparation.

Because Gaspar was happy, those eighteen years passed by quickly. He finished reading Dracula and moved on to other books. His room no longer felt empty, his bed inviting and warm, and observing his parents loving each other no longer caused him to feel left out or lonely. Watching couples together made him happy, excited, and hopeful. He was part of a companionship, taken, and no longer single.

They were on their way.

The black Lamborghini wound its way through Michigan. Jacques drove, François sat in the passenger seat, and Gaspar sat in the backseat.

We’re almost there, Gaspar, François announced.

Oui, monsieur, Gaspar acknowledged. He stared out the window, watching the scenery fly by, his heart racing just as fast. In a few moments, Gaspar would see his future companion with his own eyes. His face lit up as he thought of the name. Christopher Thomas Tyler. Excitement soared through his heart and spirit.

Finally, the sports car found its way into the small quiet town of Ann Arbor, Michigan. Gaspar’s anticipation grew as his heart fluttered. There’s his school! he pointed out to François and Jacques as they drove past the three-story building.

Sharing a joyful glance with Jacques, François answered, Oui, indeed it is.

It was not long afterwards that they drove down Christopher's street. The butterflies