A Night with a Vampire by Cynthia Cooke

Chapter One
    The sky erupted in an explosion of red and orange hues hastening the day’s end. Soon the vampires would be rising. Damn, she’d better hurry.
    Xana pulled to a stop along the shoulder of the two-lane highway that wound through northern California’s coastal mountain range and killed the engine. She popped open the glove box and slipped out her Glock. She hurriedly placed it inside her waistband against the small of her back and then grabbed two thin wooden stakes sharpened to needle-fine points and placed one in each of her back pockets.
    She snatched her brother’s—Cayman’s—pack off the floor then climbed out of her truck, tucking her hands into her leather jacket pockets, cupping the five-point silver stars in each palm as she started down the mountain path.
    Below her the valley twinkled in a sea of lights, but up here, she was alone. Isolated. She took a deep eucalyptus-scented breath as the wind picked up and listened for Cayman beyond the rustling of the leaves. Nothing. She kept to the path heading toward a warehouse. Why would Cayman have come here without her? He knew better, and it pissed her off. But lately he’d been hiding something, keeping secrets and pulling dumb stunts.
    Like this one.
    A pulse of electricity zapped the hair on the back of her neck and sent a shiver across her shoulders. She glanced behind her, but saw no one then stepped behind a large pine and stood still, listening, straining to hear even the slightest movement. Someone was out there watching her. She knew it. She felt it.
    She grasped the star in her pocket tighter and quickened her pace back down the path. The sooner she got to Cayman and the warehouse below, the better. About halfway down the mountain, she saw a movement in the shadows. Slowing, she peered through the dense foliage, inching forward, thankful for the soft carpet of pine needles beneath her feet. Cayman stepped out from behind a tree, then paused, as still as the night.
    â€œJesus, Cay,” Xana whispered. “What’s up with the theatrics?”
    â€œNo theatrics. But a little less noise would be nice.”
    She narrowed her eyes into fine feline slits. “Why did you drag me all the way out here?”
    â€œIt’s your birthday. I wanted to give you a present.”
    â€œAnd you couldn’t have given it to me, say at the Chart House over a filet?” she asked.
    He shoved his hand in his pocket then pulled out a pewter tube with an amethyst crystal set into its top dangling from a long silver chain.
    Her annoyance evaporated. “Wow, Cayman.” She cupped the necklace in her hand. “It’s beautiful.”
    â€œI thought you’d like it.” He placed it around her neck. “But this isn’t all I got you.”
    â€œNo?” She looked at him warily. Surprise gifts weren’t like Cayman.
    â€œYou got the pack I asked you to bring?”
    â€œOf course.” She patted the strap slung over her shoulder.
    â€œGood. Then let’s go.”
    â€œCay.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “What aren’t you telling me?” A niggling in her gut hinted that there was more going on here than he was letting on.
    The small muscles in his jaw twitched. “This is a big one.”
    Xana paused at the slight quiver in his voice. Was it possible that her steadfast older brother, who was always in control, was suddenly afraid? A twinge nipped Xana’s insides. She had an intimate relationship with fear, had lived with it for so long, she wasn’t sure she could live without it. Cayman, on the other hand, was never afraid and Xana had come to depend on him to keep her fear at bay.
    Now she didn’t know what to think. “What big one?”
    â€œYou’ll see.”
    He was being cryptic again. As they walked farther down the hill, the warehouse came into view. They watched for a moment as the building’s front door opened and