Free Heart of the Dead: Vampire Superheroes (Perpetual Creatures Book 1) by Gabriel Beyers

elephant were crashing through the trees. She sensed eyes upon her, following her, but from where, she could not say. Perhaps it was only Alicia, brooding and invisible, or another ghost afraid to make its presence known.
    Jerusa shivered even though the air was warm. Alicia’s bizarre behavior and Foster’s enigmatic warnings swirled in her mind, bringing on a mild vertigo. Her knees were weak, her feet too heavy.
    Something rattled the dead leaves behind her and Jerusa turned with a start. Nothing moved.
    A thick gray cloud gripped the sun, burying the golden beams in shadow. The darkness in the forest seemed a tangible living entity — an inky creature stalking Jerusa for its own foul desires.
    Jerusa turned in a circle, searching for the path, but this forest was not the one she had entered moments ago.
    “Alicia,” Jerusa called out, but the ghost did not appear.
    Had Alicia really moved on? She knew it was better for the lingering dead to pass on to the next spiritual level. To remain in the living world only brought perpetual sadness, an unquenchable thirst for indulgences no longer within grasp. That being said, Jerusa hoped that Alicia had not heeded her anger-filled admonishment to cross over.
    “Alicia,” she called again.
    Alicia materialized off in the distance. She leaned against a tree, her arms folded over her chest, looking forlorn. Jerusa’s face broke into a wide smile. Alicia was still here, in this world. She was clearly mad at Jerusa, but she was still here, which meant there was still time to apologize.
    Jerusa wanted to run to her, but a voice spoke from behind her, squeezing a scream from her throat.
    “Who is Alicia?”
    Jerusa turned and nearly tripped over her own feet. Standing ten feet away, leaning out from behind a black walnut tree, was her naked man of the woods.
    Jerusa placed her hand upon her chest, as if this could calm the raging of her borrowed heart. The rubbery scar that stretched almost the length of her torso burned like an electrified wire. “Silvanus,” she whispered in a sigh of relief.
    He tilted his head as an animal does when it hears a strange noise. “Is that my name?”
    Jerusa felt the blood rush into her cheeks. “No. Well, um, I’m not sure. If you want it to be. It’s just a name.” She wanted to plug her mouth with her fist before the flood of nonsense spilling from her became uncontainable.
    He pursed his lips as he considered the name. “Silvanus,” he repeated. “I like it, though it sounds too regal for me.”
    “It’s the name of a Roman god.”
    He smiled at that. “It is a wonderful name. A suitable replacement since I can’t remember my own.”
    Jerusa felt dizzy and intoxicated by the man’s voice, his eyes, his beauty. The thought crossed her mind that this man might be the actual Silvanus and she had to suppress a roll of laughter.
    “My friend, Foster, thought it up because I kept calling you the man in the woods.” She almost said naked man, but she just couldn’t force the word past her lips. She suddenly remembered the knapsack of clothing dangling from her arm. “Oh, here, these are for you.”
    She held the sack out to him. He reached out, careful to keep his more uncomely parts hidden behind the trunk of the walnut tree. Jerusa had a sudden urge to take a step back, out of his range, and draw him from his hiding spot. The mischievous impulse dissipated quickly, but it left her feeling weak and chilled.
    Silvanus took the knapsack from her, but not before stroking the back of her hand with his long, slender fingers. Jerusa gasped, every nerve ending firing in a simultaneous blast of pain and pleasure. It was as if, for the briefest of moments, she had plunged into icy waters. Even her hair and fingernails felt oddly charged … or was it drained?
    She thought she detected a hint of surprise in Silvanus’s eyes, but he slipped behind the trunk of the walnut tree before she could evaluate it. Had he experienced the same