Dracula Hearts of Fire Book two of Dracula Hearts

KEITH MADE HIS WAY BACK to the house on the dead-end street where the cop resided and waited. He was now desperate to drink an officer’s blood, as he believed it tasted better than most. Additionally, he wanted to read about himself in the papers; to see the story and know that he was the perpetrator would be most satisfying. A little like being a star. It was too bad that they didn’t show the bodies as they used to years ago because he would have enjoyed it even more. One could never get too much blood and gore.

The Sports Wagon remained in the driveway; he knew they were all home. Keith could hear the rhythmic contractions of their hearts, thump thump, thump thump. Keith took the air in, and he could smell body odor, sweat, and something else; someone had let one go. Oh, it was a nasty one. That was the risk of drawing such a large amount of odor into the olfactory system. A neighbor’s car approached, so he backed further into the woods to avoid being observed. The vampire’s heart beat once, and it startled him as it was so infrequent. Blood was pushed through his system and gave him a warm feeling.

Keith wanted to know whether the elements of bad luck had passed. His brown eyes darted from side to side, making him look like his planet wasn’t in the proper orbit. The area was scanned for any signs of bad omens over and over. He saw nothing except a black retriever running loose, but if a black cat was bad luck, why not a black dog? Why not a black squirrel, for that matter? He didn’t think there were any black squirrels, but with his luck. Things would be okay as long as that dog didn’t approach him. Keith bent down by a tree so the dog wouldn’t notice him, but it had the opposite effect as it ran right up to him and licked his face several times. Why didn’t it sense his bad intentions? Dogs were usually good at those things. Perhaps the dog was stupid? Did it make any difference if it was a black dog?

“Get away!” It was likely that if he killed it, it would mean even more bad luck. Maybe it would endure for weeks. His mind was getting more erratic by the minute.

The black retriever bolted down the street as his master summoned him. The vampire wiped his face and looked disgusted. Lately, he was a lot more irrational, having to pace so many times before leaving the safety of the forest, hearing voices that he was sure weren’t there. Keith had heard that some vampires went insane for no apparent reason. As a human, he had dealt with depression and eccentricities; he knew it was bad luck to look out the window at the full moon, but that was just common knowledge. Wasn’t it?

“What the hell is this now?” he said as the monarch butterfly lit on his left shoulder. It had a fair amount of black, which was a bad omen. He didn’t dare move lest it does something. What could a butterfly do? Didn’t know for sure, but it wouldn’t be anything good. Was he irrational? No, he wasn’t. The butterfly started it. Why couldn’t it mind its own damn business? A branch cracked in the distance, and he slowly turned his head toward it. Then it snapped again. The earth shook, and it had to be an earthquake.

Keith blurred off into the forest like a pursued rabbit.