Bound Through Blood by Alexis Kennedy

friend.
    Still more than a little concerned about all of this, Salena headed back to New Orleans to check out a vampire tour for the very first time.
     

Chapter 34
    Salena found out that the tour didn't begin until 8:30 p.m. and would last two hours. She prepaid for her ticket and grabbed a brochure to read.
    Back home, after reading the brochure—filled with intrigue and spookiness—Salena decided to do some internet research on vampire myths. She thought aloud, "I have time to kill before going to the funeral home," then winced at the bad choice of words. Bringing up her internet browser, she typed vampire myths and legends into the search engine. While that loaded, she glanced at her painting thinking she should finish it soon—and something was off—something was different. She thought hard about the other night when she worked on it to relax; she had worked on the swan, not the fountain, but now it was completed. She stared intently at the fountain and the wide, firm brush strokes—they were definitely different from the small, delicate strokes she used. So, the one who gets in and out of her house like a ghost is artistic, too. She admired the perfect curves and detail of the fountain. Then she looked around the tidy house wondering what else he has touched and, still, how he could be getting in; she had to find out—especially before he assaulted her again. Was it assault if you enjoyed it ? Shaking her head at the complex mess her life had become lately, she turned her attention back to the computer screen; her search had finally loaded. She clicked on the first link available, and it took her to legends from Europe, of the undead drinking the blood of helpless victims in the darkness of night. She read the myths about crucifixes, garlic, caskets, sunlight, and holy water. She scoffed at those—he'd left the lilies during the daytime, and she has a crucifix hanging above her bed. Also, there was the garlic butter she had put on her seafood the other night—she grimaced—the night Jane was killed. Speaking of Jane, why didn't he drink her blood? Since when did vampires strangle people? Maybe it was someone else who had killed her—Salena actually felt relief. Wait, no, the detective said the prints matched from her house and the other women. It had to be him . Unless it was the second killer's prints that were found on Jane. She needed to find out. Then she thought it strange that she would want to exonerate a vampire. If he is in fact a vampire; she still wasn't sure she believed. But, what other explanation was there? She couldn't think of any.
    She wondered if she should tell the detective why his fingerprints weren't in the database. You won't find them, Detective, because he is, oh, about three hundred years old—at least. Do you have any wooden stakes? Yeah, that'd go over real well , Salena mused. She looked at a couple of more links on her search. It was just more of the same; including if a person survived a bite, they'd turn into a vampire. So far, she didn't think she was one. She looked at the family tree, still laid out. Her grandmother… How could her 10th generation great-grandmother love a vampire? And what did it have to do with her now? She needed answers.
    There was some mention of vampires in the US, especially New Orleans. Mostly it was just advertisement for the vampire tours, though. She then searched for vampires falling in love. She did not find any love stories involving vampires in the United States; she only read a couple of stories of suspected romances in Europe. The stories spoke of women falling in love with the most handsome and charming of men, who only came around them at night. Shortly after the men started showing up, the women were found dead and drained of their blood. They would then disappear from the morgue or their abandoned graves. They'd become part of the undead and would wander the streets at night, seeking fresh blood. "Gee," she said to the empty room,