Fatal Attractions

Chapter Eleven

     I sat on the cold hard floor, leaning against the door for what felt like hours. After a while, my eyes began adjusting to the dark and I could make out several tall objects around me. I had already tried the wall for a light switch, but found nothing. I didn't even know if there was a light in here, but as each minute dragged by, I became more and more uncomfortable sitting in the dark.

     I heard a light scratching from across the room, and I jerked my head up. A rat? A raccoon? Whatever it was, I didn't like the fact that I was cornered in a dark room with it.

     I pulled myself to my feet and squinted, trying to better see what was ahead of me. Holing my hands out in front of me, I took a single step forward, then another. After a few steps, I felt something cold graze across my forehead.

     "Ah!" I shrieked, bringing my hand up to my forehead and taking a shaky step back. I thrust my hand forward into the darkness and felt the same coldness brush against the back of my hand. Steadying myself, I grabbed it and realized it was a beaded pull chain for a light bulb. I felt a rush of relief when I realized I wouldn't have to sit in the dark anymore.

     I pulled on the chain and the room flooded with light, making me bring my arm up to shield my eyes from the harshness. After a moment, my eyes adjusted and I could finally see my surroundings.

     The room Alex had shoved me into appeared to be a storage closet. There were rows metal shelves on wheels lined up all the way to the back wall. The wall behind me was lined with frayed cardboard boxes, which were sealed with duct tape. The walls were cement, and the floor appeared to be stone. I didn't notice before, but now seeing my surroundings, the room felt especially chilly and I wrapped my arms around myself to calm the goosebumps.

     The shelves were packed with random items, and I suddenly felt the urge to snoop. Alex wasn't giving me any answers, and Andrew was just as helpful, so I had no choice but to get answers myself.

     I padded over to the closest shelf and lifted up on my toes to get a better look at the second top shelf. It was lined with snow globes, figurines and other knick-knacks cloaked with dust that were probably as worthless as they looked. Gazing down, I realized the entire stack of shelves were occupied with the useless collectibles.

     Letting out an agitated sigh, I looped around the stack of shelves and went to the one behind it. This one appeared more promising. Crumpled manila folders were stacked one on top of another, filling up all the shelves. Papers and what appeared to be photographs were practically spilling out of them.

     I grabbed the one on top and held it close to me, flipping it open. My eyes grew wide when I realized each manila envelope was a personal file, for the members of the vampire community, I assumed. Full name, date of birth, birth place, family history, medical history, criminal history, random photos that looked like they were taken from a private investigator stalking them while they were out in public.

     Every detail of their lives were printed here in black and white. The file I was looking at read the name Gabriel Franklin Ports. The name wasn't familiar, and neither were the dozens of photographs of him.

     He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, and judging from the photographs, had choppy blond hair that curled slightly at his ears, giving him a boyish look. He had a slim face and a hard jaw, his expression set as one of boredom as he stared blankly into the camera. I couldn't point out his eye color considering the photo was in black and white, but his eyes held a softness to them that was almost comforting.

     Was Gabriel still alive today? Is he a member of the Council? If so, did that mean I'd be meeting him eventually? Did he live in the manor? Was he walking through the halls, or cooking a meal in the kitchen, or lounging in front of the fireplace at this very moment?