Vampire Dawn(21)

I rolled my eyes. "Please not another penis reference."

"Fine. I won't refer to my big penis."

"Oh, God. Annnnyway, I still can't imagine anyone - vampires or otherwise - being able to stop you."

He chuckled lightly, then studied me for a few seconds. "Actually, you could, Sam."

I snorted. "I doubt it."

"You are stronger than you realize. In fact, rumor has it that a Mr. Captain Jack was perhaps the strongest vampire of them all. That is, until you came around."

Kingsley was referring to a missing-child case that had led me to an Indian casino in Simi Valley, where a young girl's blood was being siphoned by a particularly sick son of a bitch.

Kingsley went on, "From what I understand, most others in the vampire world steered clear of Captain Jack. And look what you did to him."

"I was lucky. I had help."

"But who's alive, Sam? You vanquished a powerful vampire. You are not one to mess with."

The talk was getting a little serious, especially since we were both naked in bed. I ran a finger through his tangle of chest hair. "Then what were you doing just a few moments ago?"

He reached over and pulled me close to his superheated body. "Oh, I wasn't messing with you, Sam." And now he flipped me over onto my back and climbed on top of me. "I was making love to you."

I blinked. Hard. This was news to me. "Love?"

"Oh, yeah, Sam." He lowered his face to my skin. "Love."

At least, that's what I think he said. His words might have been a little muffled.

Chapter Sixteen

It was early afternoon and I was at the Cal State Fullerton library.

I waved to my cute friend working behind the help desk. He smiled brightly and rose from his chair, but I breezed past, blew him a kiss, and hurried into one of the elevators going up. At the third floor, I wound my way through a maze of book aisles until I came upon the special collections room.

Cal State Fullerton had many special collections. In the science fiction wing, there was a room devoted solely to local science fiction authors. One could find original Dune manuscripts by Frank Herbert along with his personal notes. My favorite was the Philip K. Dick room. The world at large thought the man had a screw loose, and maybe he did. But I happened to think he was onto something. Or something was onto him.

Anyway, this was the Occult Reading Room, which consisted of extremely rare manuscripts. Like with the science fiction room, these books couldn't be checked out. Only admired. Or feared. And, yes, there were one or two books in here that definitely aroused some fear. Okay, a lot of fear.

Except today I wasn't here to read books, or even to peruse the shelves. I was here to meet a young man. A young man who, I suspected, wasn't so young.

I hung a right into the Occult Reading Room and wasn't too surprised to see that it was empty. Well, empty of anything living, that is. A very old man in spirit form sat in one of the chairs and appeared to be deep in thought. Then again, most ghosts appeared to be in deep thought. As I came in, he looked up at me, startled, frowned grumpily, and promptly disappeared into the nether-sphere.

Well, excuse me.

The reading room was really a library unto itself. It had its own shelves, its own filing system, its own desks and reading chairs. Even its own help desk, where I rang the little bell.

As I waited, I could hear something scratching from deeper within the reading room, followed by some whispering and even the occasional moan. I shivered. Creepy as hell.

A young man soon appeared from the back offices. What he did back there, I didn't know. Who he was, exactly, I didn't know that either. For all the world, he appeared as just another handsome college student with a bright smile.

His name was Archibald Maximus, and I suspected that Cal State Fullerton, unbeknownst to the students and faculty, housed perhaps one of the world's most dangerous collections of arcane and rare books, books full of dark power. Books that could do great harm in the hands of the wrong person.

I suspected young Archibald Maximus, or Max, was a gatekeeper of sorts. A watcher. A protector.

His particularly bright aura suggested I might be onto something. Although not as bright as the angel I'd met last month, Max's aura was damn bright. So much so, that it suggested he wasn't entirely of this world.

Or I could be as crazy as a loon.