The Vampire from Hell

Chapter 26 - Dead Girl

Chapter 26 - Dead Girl

"She has to wake up. Rayea. Rayea. RAYEA!" 

I opened one eye and felt the soft surface of my down comforter beneath me. My phone was vibrating in my back pocket. I fumbled for it and pulled it from my jeans. Holding it up, I saw a photo of Ashton as the vampire character, Ron Maxwell, sneering at me. A call from Lynn. 

Someone slapped my iPhone from my hand and it bounced across the bed. 

"That thing has been ringing nonstop. Who is Lynn for god's sake?" 

Death's voice was frantic. He was obviously frustrated with me for sleeping most of the day. I assumed it was close to nightfall because the sunlight coming in from the white sheer curtains in my bedroom had been replaced by the warm golden glow of streetlamps. 

"You may want to be nice to her if you want her help with this situation, Demetri." 

"Situation?" I mumbled, attempting to push myself into the pillows lining the headboard of my bed. 

Michael stood on one side of the bed while Death, or Demetri as was his formal name, glared at me from the other side. 

"What situation?" 

Both of them pointed to a curly red-haired woman who had collapsed in one of the Queen Anne wingback chairs I had moved from the living room. Her long hair covered her face and her stomach was completely soaked in blood. 

"She looks like she's dead. This isn't my department, guys. I think it's yours," I replied, pointing my iPhone at Death. Twenty-two missed calls from Lynn. Sh*t. I had missed our lunch. "I've got to get going," I said, bouncing off the bed. "Have either of you guys heard from Blick?" 

As Michael and Death knelt down, examining the dead girl, they both paused and glanced at each other. Death returned to holding the girl's hand, whispering to her. Michael slowly stood up and faced me. "Why, what have you heard?" 

"I haven't heard anything. I dreamed he was sick. That's all. Is he okay?" 

"Ohhhh, the Ra blood. I told you it would be intense. I'm sure Blick is fine. I need to be getting back anyway. I'll tell him to text you. Okay?" Michael blew me a kiss accentuating his new smug vampire demeanor. Excuse me, angelic vampire. He then nudged Death's shoulder. "Can you walk me out, man?" 

I probably should have been more nervous than I was when I saw both angels acting weird, especially with Michael asking Death to walk him out. But it didn't dawn on me at the time as to what it really meant. I assumed having a girl dying in my bedroom was reason enough for their odd behavior. Was she dead? 

Carefully I approached the girl and smoothed her hair away from her face. She had beautiful, long lashes, high cheek bones, lush lips, and very pale skin probably because she had lost a great deal of blood. I felt her wrist for a pulse. It was very weak. Not a good sign. 

I managed to unbutton her flannel shirt as far as her bra line and spread open her shirt. When I sliced away the soaked bandages with my long nails, I discovered she had probably 10 or 15 knife wounds. A few were very deep. 

I sighed. "Who did this to you?" 

"I think she did it to get back at her boyfriend." Death pulled up the straight back chair that had been at my writing desk in front of the window. Crossing his long legs and peering down at her wounds, he added, "Her thoughts are confusing, but that's about all I can get. 'Nathan will pay for this.' That's what she keeps saying." 

"What do you propose we do?" I asked glancing at him. He had removed his light gray leather jacket and tossed it on the bed. One side of his dark T-shirt was drenched with blood.