Heart of the Vampire: Episode 1
Heart of the Vampire
Episode 1
Tasha Black
13th Story Press
Copyright © 2020 by 13th Story Press
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
13th Story Press
PO Box 506
Swarthmore, PA 19081
13thStoryPress@gmail.com
Cover designed by Sylvia Frost of The Book Brander
Contents
Tasha Black Starter Library
About Heart of the Vampire
Episode 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Episode 2 (Sample)
Chapter 1
Tasha Black Starter Library
About the Author
One Percent Club
Tasha Black Starter Library
Packed with steamy shifters, mischievous magic, billionaire superheroes, otherworldly alien mates, and plenty of HEAT, the Tasha Black Starter Library is the perfect way to dive into Tasha's unique brand of Romance with Bite!
Get your FREE books now at tashablack.com!
About Heart of the Vampire
True Blood meets Knives Out in this steamy paranormal romance by USA Today bestselling author Tasha Black.
Drucilla Holloway is desperate to finish writing her novel, desperate enough to take a job as a night clerk at a haunted hotel on the top of a snow-covered mountain, just to get some peace and quiet.
But when she arrives at Hemlock House, Dru is immediately distracted by an unshakable sense of danger. Dead animals keep appearing in the snow, someone is sneaking around in the tunnels under the hotel, and everyone seems to have something to hide.
But no one at Hemlock House is as mysterious as Viktor Striker. He’s wildly gorgeous with a disarming smile. But something is haunting him, and Dru is determined to find out what it is.
At first, she thinks Viktor may be in some kind of trouble. But it’s starting to look like he is trouble.
A Continuing Story:
Heart of the Vampire is told in three installments, or episodes, like a TV show. Each episode includes a cliffhanger to entice the reader to tune in for the next one! If you’re not a fan of the serial format, be sure to join my mailing list at TashaBlack.com to be informed when a complete bundle is available!
In Episode 1:
Dru investigates strange happenings at the hotel and struggles with her wild attraction to the mysterious new guest, until things take a deadly turn.
Episode 1
1
In her dream, Drucilla Holloway stood barefoot on a cool stone floor, gazing out an enormous, arched window into the stillness of the dark summer night.
Stars dotted a velvet sky like a canopy of twinkle lights over the vast meadow below and the treetops of the forest beyond.
This was the setting of the hotel where she worked. She was sure of it. But in her waking hours, she had never seen it from above this way, at an angle that made it all look small and sweet, like a drawing in a book of fairy tales.
A cooling breeze swirled through the window, filling the room with the scent of roses.
Her dream-self knew that she was waiting for something.
But she couldn’t remember what…
Footsteps rang out on the stone floor behind her, but she didn’t turn.
He’s here…
Her heart pounded in anticipation, and she closed her eyes against the rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.
The footsteps slowed, and Dru could smell the cool, clean scent of him. She could practically feel his touch, even before his arms slid around her waist, pinning her to him.
“Drucilla,” he murmured into her hair, his dark voice sending shivers down her spine.
No one called her that. Even to her family, she had always been just plain Dru.
His lips trailed slowly down her jaw toward the tender place where her neck met her shoulder.
She moaned lightly, already shivering with need.
His mouth left a warm trail of honeyed sweetness wherever it touched.
Sensations washed over her in waves. Behind her closed eyelids, she saw roses blooming and withering, a forest growing taller, suns rising and setting so fast they seemed to strobe.
“Please,” she whispered, not even knowing what she was begging for.
But no sound left her lips.
She tried again, desperate for him to hear her.
A strange sound erupted from her throat and she tried to move out of his grip.
But reality was bleeding in at the edges now…
Dru was vaguely aware that she wasn’t really in the room with the stone floor.
She was held fast, not by the arms of her mystery lover, but by the threadbare quilts she’d been tossing and turning in. And the only roses were the ones on the wallpaper.
She sat up and ran a hand through her hair.
Soft, late-afternoon sunlight bled through the sheer curtains, catching the dust motes mid-waltz.
The light cast a warm glow around the room, but the actual temperature was practically frigid. The hot water in the radiators seemed to go tepid well before it reached her on the third floor of the old hotel.
She sighed, and half-expected to see her own breath plume in the chilly air. It was winter, and Dru had been dreaming of summer again.
She shivered and tried to shake the clinging feeling that something wasn’t right.
A quick look around told her everything was in its place. Built-in bookcases flanked the window seat and lined the wall beside the bed. They were all overflowing with tattered paperbacks and assorted reference books - everything from The Elements of Style, to The Unofficial Star Trek Cookbook, to something called Encyclopedia Vampirica. The overstuffed chair in the corner was still just as covered in unwashed laundry as it always was. And her grandmother’s ancient Smith Corona typewriter awaited her atop the antique desk, silently judging her for all the pages she hadn’t written yet.
The thousand drooping roses on the wallpaper disappeared into the shadowy areas in the eaves, keeping watch over the whole scene, as if she were living in a creepy Victorian doll house instead of a “homey” Bed & Breakfast in the Pocono mountains of Pennsylvania.
But overall, the vibe suited Dru just fine. She was here to work on a horror novel after all, not get featured in Better Homes & Gardens.
Her stomach grumbled, clearly less concerned about the decor than the provisions.
She glanced at the clock - 4:30PM - time for breakfast.
Dru slid out from between the quilts, quickly pulling on a bulky sweater and a pair of well-worn slippers. She headed to the mini-fridge to grab some milk, and dumped the remainder of a bag of Fruity Dyno-Bites into a bowl that she was pretty sure was clean.
No matter how long she worked the overnight shift Dru still preferred breakfast foods as her first meal of the day.
The tiny kitchen of Hemlock House offered meals only at appointed, traditional times. In half an hour, Co
nstance, the only cook, would ring the bell to announce that the dining room was open. Anyone willing to sit at the communal table could choose a plate of gray meat and even grayer potatoes or a half-hearted vegetarian option. Either way, the meal was served with a side of wacky conversation from the odd assortment of hotel guests, and a buttered roll.
Dru carried her off-brand sugary cereal over to the window seat and looked out the window as she ate. It wasn’t as good as the real thing, but it turned the milk a startling shade of neon pink, which was a plus.
It had snowed an inch or two in the night. The expansive front lawn of Hemlock House was frosted with white, and the gigantic hemlock tree that had given the hotel its name looked like it belonged on the stage of The Nutcracker.
But the tire tracks on the circular driveway swooping up to the front door of the hotel ruined the magical effect. There was a shuttle bus that carried guests to and from the nearby town of Willow Ridge - the locals were really into the whole naming things after trees motif. Willow Ridge was only about a few miles down the mountain, but all the twists and turns in the narrow road made the trip take a half an hour, more if there was snow on the ground. In really bad weather, it was completely impassable.
Fortunately, there wasn’t a big storm in the forecast anytime soon.
Chester Crawford, the groundskeeper, was the only one allowed to drive the shuttle, in any kind of weather. It looked like he had recently brought up at least one new guest, which was good. The old place could certainly use the business.
Dru was at Hemlock House this year in part because she had heard short term rental websites were dominating the Poconos.
If she ever wanted to give herself a working writing retreat at the quaint, possibly-haunted-but-not-really, hotel where her grandmother had worked in the sixties, it was now or never. Most of the smaller places were shutting their doors. She didn’t think Hemlock House would be far behind.
And though the overnight shift was still rough on her now, she was sure once she was used to it, she would get tons of writing done. After all, there would be little else to do.
She finished her cereal, then rinsed the bowl and spoon in the sink of the small attached bathroom.
A quick shower and a few minutes of pawing through her small wardrobe had her dressed and ready for work.
But the sunlight had gone pink already.
“Come on, Dru,” she told herself.
She had time to kill before she had to report for duty. She’d probably head down early and catch up with Hailey, but first, she was going to settle into some writing. She could knock out a few hundred words, if she was focused.
Dru sat down at the desk and faced off with the robin’s-egg-blue Smith Corona, its single blank page full of wonder and possibility, like a layer of new snow before some shuttle bus comes along and screws it up.
Typewriters weren’t exactly the most cutting-edge writing tool, and this one didn’t even have a working ‘8’ key, but the internet coverage was spotty in the mountains, and Dru really didn’t need the distraction of social media on her laptop anyway.
Plus, part of her hoped Nana Jane’s typewriter would bring her luck, so that maybe she could build something from the snow, instead of just ruining it with her ugly tracks.
She absentmindedly ran her finger across the carved initials in the desk. JA, for Jane Anderson.
Nana always insisted she was quite the rebel when she was younger, and Dru had laughed her head off at that idea, not believing for an instant that her smiling Nana could ever be anything but what she was right then - a silver-haired lady puttering around in the garden, reading a never-ending stream of mystery novels, and burning all her ambitious baking experiments.
But here was plain evidence her grandmother had carved her initials into a desk, like a naughty schoolchild in a movie. And Nana had been twenty when she worked at Hemlock House.
This wasn’t the first time Dru had thought of her grandmother’s initials over the years. They were carved into the locket she wore every day, right next to a small piece of irregularly shaped crystal on a fine silver chain. The whole necklace had belonged to her Nana Jane. She had given it to Dru the year before she passed, when Dru was only ten, and Dru had worn it ever since.
She assumed it held some sentimental value to the older woman, since the hunk of crystal and the silver tag couldn’t have been worth very much. Dru liked to imagine there was some grand, romantic story behind it, but her grandmother had never told her anything about where she got it.
The years had worn the surface of the locket so that the J-A engraving was barely visible, and Dru was guilty of rubbing her thumb over the letters herself whenever she was deep in thought.
She wished for the thousandth time that she could see Nana again. But that twinkly-eyed smile had disappeared from her life over a decade ago, and unless this hotel really was haunted, it wasn’t coming back.
Dru wondered what she would even say to her grandmother’s ghost, if such a thing were possible. She wasn’t a big believer in that kind of stuff, but she had always had a good enough imagination to consider just about any possibility.
I’m walking in your footsteps, Nana.
And if she really wanted to make her grandmother proud, she needed to focus on getting some words on the page.
She cracked her knuckles dramatically, and placed her hands on the well-used keys. But the phone rang before she could type a single letter.
Dru jumped a little, still not used to the jangling of the old-fashioned landline. The double ring told her the call was coming from the front desk.
Hailey.
She grabbed the receiver.
“Dru,” Hailey chirped before Dru could say hello.
“Hey,” Dru replied.
“Listen, a ton of stuff came ahead for the Sapphire Suite,” Hailey said. “Some of it is super heavy…”
“Are you asking for help?” Dru teased.
“Yeah, but I’m also offering soda and chips,” Hailey teased back.
“I’m there,” Dru said, hanging up and gathering herself to head down.
The guy who was supposed to arrive today to take the Sapphire Suite must have big plans for his visit to the Poconos to be carting along so much luggage. Maybe it was photography equipment or something.
It made sense.
Helsing’s Comet was due to be visible on Monday night, for the first time in almost sixty years. Hemlock House was the highest place around, so they were supposed to have a pretty great view, and the forecast was calling for clear skies that night. The hotel was expected to fill up on Sunday, as guests from all over came to see the comet. The guy checking into Sapphire was probably hoping to catch it with a telescope and camera.
Dru ran her thumb over the pendant around her neck, tracing the outline of her grandmother’s initials one more time as she headed down the curved back stairs to help her friend.
2
Dru smiled as she caught sight of her friend.
Hailey stood just past the chestnut doorframe at the end of the first-floor hallway. The chandelier made the auburn highlights in her ebony hair shine. Hailey had a lot going for her - perfect dark hair, perfect dark skin, and a perfect dark, goth aesthetic that she was totally nailing today. But it was her almost impossibly positive outlook that had made them fast friends. Dru loved having someone like Hailey in her life, even if it meant listening to a lot of talk about fashion trends and makeup tips.
It only took one look at Dru to realize that neither of those things were very high up on her list of priorities. But Hailey wasn’t discouraged by that at all. She seemed to view Dru as a challenge, like an old house that could really shine with just a coat of paint and good interior decorator.
And Dru was grateful for her input. After all, without Hailey, Dru might not even know that she was “an Autumn.” Whatever that meant.
“Dru,” Hailey cried, her beaming smile belying her slightly annoyed tone. “I’m really glad you came down. Look a
t all this.”
Dru had reached the foyer and glanced around. Hailey wasn’t kidding about it being a lot of stuff. Two large chests and an enormous steamer trunk practically covered the faded Oriental rug by the fireplace.
“What do you think is in them?” Dru asked, her voice dropping to nearly a whisper, even though no one else was around to hear them. Somehow, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t alone.
The luggage looked old, practically antique. And there was something odd about the chests, a feeling she couldn’t quite put her finger on, like they were… dangerous. But that was silly. What could be dangerous about a bunch of old trunks?
She was probably just tired from adjusting to her new schedule.
“No idea,” Hailey replied. “But they kind of fit in around here, don’t they?”
She wasn’t wrong.
“Hey, maybe we can just leave them down here, in that case,” Dru suggested, quirking an eyebrow.
Hailey let out a waterfall of laughter. Everything about Hailey was pretty, from her laugh to her hair, to her glamorous, goth outfits. Tonight she had her hair in two long braids, and she was wearing a black dress with a white collar. She looked like a sexy, Black version of Wednesday Adams.
It was no wonder that every guy, and most of the girls, that checked in on Hailey’s shift couldn’t help but flirt shamelessly with her.