RED NIGHT ~ VAMPIRE FILES TRILOGY (Book 1)

8

"Uno, don't go walking alone after dark. You make yourself a target that way.

Dos, be aware of your surroundings at all times. If you did this, he wouldn't have been able to get you in that position.

Tres, you can't go up against someone who outsizes you by that much if they know what they're doing. You need to be in a position to outrun them.

Quattro, if you followed one and two, you wouldn't have to deal with three. Sounds like you're lucky to be alive. Now take your position so I can kick some of that stupidity out of you," he says, tossing his clipboard onto a gym bag.

Eddie then proceeds to kick my ass for the next hour. Fun.

***

I hurt from head to toe by the time I drive home. I have several new bruises that hopefully won't show for my date on Saturday.

I still can't believe Gabe asked me out. I'm still humming the Walking on Sunshine tune when I pull up to my building.

I stop humming at the sight of several police cars, an ambulance, and a crowd of people standing behind some yellow tape.

I park my car, and make my way through the crowd. I have to ask permission to cross the yellow tape. "Officer, I live here. What's happened?" I ask with a growing feeling of dread.

"What's your name, and which apartment is yours?" the officer asks.

"My name is Samantha Lewis, and I live in 405. Can I go up to my place?"

He motions to another uniformed officer, and says, "This officer will escort you in and ask you some questions. If you're on the fourth floor, you'll be able to enter." Both officers refused to give me any more information.

I spot Harold and his wife Mabel on the sofa in the lobby being questioned by a plainclothes detective.

Mabel gives me a sad smile before turning her attention back to the detective. Her eyes are puffy and swollen.

I'm shocked that something bad has happened in our building. Nothing ever happens here. It's a pretty safe place to live.

As I'm being escorted to the elevator, I spot a middle-aged man with a kind red face and a little too much weight around his midsection. He walks over to me and gives me a big hug.

"I was tipped off that something happened at your building and rushed right over. My phone ran out of juice or I would have called to make sure you were okay. Let's go up to your place to talk," he says, taking me by the elbow and leading me to the elevator.

Russell Thomas is old school so he and technology are not the best of friends. His phone is always dead. I bought him a car charger for Christmas last year, and he probably doesn't remember he has it.

"How have you been, Russell?" I ask as we step into the elevator.

Russell was a dear friend to my father. He also oversaw my parents' will, and stepped in to pick me up when I fell apart after their deaths. I always called him Uncle when I was younger, but he's not actually related to me.

"Better now that I know you're not involved. I talked to some of my friends in the department, and they said Phoenix may have a serial killer on their hands. Victims are all attractive, blonde, in their early twenties, and all missing a substantial amount of blood," he says, and takes a breath.

"Some sicko is trying to make it look like a Hollywood creature did this instead of a psychopath. Two had puncture marks on their neck and thighs, the third was missing a pretty big chunk of her neck. You know this is not public information. You need to keep it to yourself," he says.