Free Vampire Dreams by J. R. Rain Page A

cries…until she could cry no more.
    Jesus.
    I got out of bed. Time to do some chores, then off to pick up the children. In the living room, where the window shades were always drawn tight, I automatically turned on Judge Judy.
     
    2.
     
    I was sitting in my minivan, parked on the side of the road.
    Sundown was minutes away, and I was feeling anxious. The way I always felt just before the sun set. Excited. Relieved. Impatient. Desperate. Incomplete.
    I forced myself to calm down.
    Not an easy thing to do. Not at this hour.
    I was on my way to see Detective Sherbet. He had a case for me. A big case. Someone was leaving dead bodies around Fullerton. Bodies drained of blood.
    My son was heavy on my heart, but I was able to console myself with the knowledge that he seemed so…comfortable with who he was. And why shouldn’t he? He was just a growing boy, a boy who happened to be stronger than everyone else at his school. Sure, he might think he was a little freaky. But this was a good freaky, wasn’t it?
    I nodded and wiped a tear that had somehow found its way to my cheek bone. “Yes,” I whispered. “A good freaky.”
    I was going to have to tell him. I knew that. He had to know.
    “ He has to know,” I said to no one.
    I was parked along Harbor Boulevard. Not too far from mine and Kingsley’s favorite restaurant…and not too far from Heroes, either, where Fang worked. I checked my watch. Yup, he would be working now. Just around the corner. Serving drinks and dreaming of becoming a vampire. Fang, with his freaky teeth hanging from his neck.
    Lots of freaky going on here.
     
    3.
     
    I was parked on Amerige Street, facing east.
    In front of me, maybe twenty feet away, was Harbor Boulevard, which ran north and south. Diagonal from me, across Harbor, was a familiar bus bench and a u-shaped hedge. It was the same bus bench and hedge I had seen in my dream. I was sure of it.
    Seeing it had surprised me, so much so that I stopped my minivan and just stared.
    The same bus bench. The same hedge. Minus the dead girl.
    I knew Harbor like the back of my hand, but, during the dream, I hadn’t been aware that it was this bus bench, on this section of street.
    What the hell was going on?
    I didn’t know, but I decided to wait out the final few minutes of the day. Hell, I might as well be firing on all cylinders when I met with Sherbet in a few minutes. Didn’t hurt to have a clear mind when discussing a serial killer.
    So I waited. And I watched.
    I knew the sun was inching closer to the horizon without having to look at it. I always knew where the sun was. Always. Just as I knew it was sitting on the far horizon, slipping slowly away.
    Too slowly.
    I made fists in my lap. Two small, white, knobby fists. I saw the sun in my mind’s eye. Orange and burning. So beautiful that it hurt. Halfway above the horizon. Now a quarter. Slipping ever lower.
    Hurry, hurry.
    I opened my hands, closed them again.
    And then it happened. Actually, two things happened simultaneously:
    First, the sun dropped below the horizon and relief flooded my system. The night was truly my drug.
    Second, I saw her.
    The broken girl from my dreams.
    Sitting down now on the bus bench.
     
    4.
     
    I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, thinking.
    My position on Amerige afforded a perfect view of the bus bench along Harbor, where cars zipped up and down. A few pedestrians, too. Downtown Fullerton was a happening, vibrant place, filled with banks, coffee shops and restaurants. The local congressman had an office here, too, which sort of added to the air of coolness.
    Except I wasn’t thinking about the congressman or the fact that I hadn’t had a coffee in nearly seven years.
    I was trying to decide what to do.
    Unlike someone I know, I never asked to be a vampire. And I never asked to be saddled with the many side effects of vampirism, either. One such side effect was enhanced extrasensory perception. Or ESP. Over the years, this ability, this psychic