Touch of Vampire
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Caitlin O’Roarke studied the man behind the glass—a man with no identity or place in this world—a mystery she meant to unravel. His eyes seemed to bore through the glass, staring straight at her, giving her shivers of fear and something unidentifiable.
She didn’t realize by taking his case that her normal way of life was about to come undone, and that his claims of being a vampire were completely true.
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Touch of Vampire - Celeste Anwar
TOUCH OF VAMPIRE
Celeste Anwar
© Copyright Celeste Anwar, January 2017
Cover art by Eliza Black © copyright January 2017
www.celesteanwar.com
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter One
Caitlin O’Roarke never expected to encounter a man who shouldn’t exist in her lifetime. In every modern sense, he didn’t belong here. He had no name, no fingerprints on record, no photo ID on file...no past other than the one that had begun the night he’d been picked up by the police.
Caitlin stood close enough to the glass it fogged slightly with every breath she took. The old building’s ventilation units struggled to keep the interior tolerable against the wind chill blasting the brick façade outside, and she wasn’t sure if the whistling in the dropped ceiling was the heat or fingers of cold creeping in. Her skin pebbled with goosebumps in spite of the slightly heated air swirling around the hallway.
She struggled to maintain her professionalism, working against odd sensations fighting for dominance. Feelings of fear and something else she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—name. She shivered involuntarily and hugged her tablet tight against her chest. Something about watching the man, John Doe, on the opposite side of the glass did that to her.
It seemed she’d stood there for days, frozen in place, but she’d only just come up after familiarizing herself with what little information there was to be had on John Doe. The name didn’t fit him. It was a name for an average, forgettable man, and he didn’t come close to that description. This man was as exotic as he was enigmatic—unusual, more than the long hair that needed to be cut. His eyes were old in a young face—not in a physical sense, but ageless, knowing, almost...sad and definitely apathetic.
He looked somewhere between his late twenties and mid-thirties, but he seemed to lack the normal indicators of age. Angular cheekbones made his cheeks look gaunt from the sharp cut lines of his jaw and facial bones. His ebony hair and thick black brows accentuated his pale coloring, but he had the look of distant Eastern Europe ancestry in his dark eyes—like the Roma or perhaps Iberian.
She knew he couldn’t see her through the glass, but he stared straight at the spot where she stood, sending a shiver down her spine.
She shook herself as though awakening from a sleep. How long had she been standing there, just looking? What would her colleagues think about her ogling a patient? She knew what they’d think—the same thing as always. She wasn’t professional enough; her technique was faulty; she was too young to be in the field; she hadn’t paid her dues like the others had; a good-looking patient could turn her head. Never mind that she was pushing closer to thirty than twenty.
Caitlin frowned, tightening her fingers at that thought. She attributed too much to them. Not everything could be laid at their door.
His lips slowly curled into a smile, and she shook again despite herself. He continued his unblinking stare at her position, as though he could see her through the glass, reminding her forcefully of some bad horror movie scene. It was a cliché. Everyone knew what two-way glass looked like, and she knew enough from the report to know he’d enjoy toying with anyone who came into contact with him. It still irritated her that she was affected in the slightest.
Even the circumstances of his arrival harkened to one of those old thrillers.
Caitlin shook off the flights of fancy and squared her shoulders. She’d gotten this case because she was the rookie. She knew they were just out to break her, giver her a hard time. She’d damn well show them what she could do.
The security guard standing beside the door nodded in her direction when she glanced at him. He’s secured, ma’am. Nothing to be afraid of.
She nodded and considered giving him a withering reply, but that wouldn’t be civil attacking a colleague when she planned on making a career out of this. She wasn’t afraid. She hoped she didn’t give that impression.
Caitlin held the security bracelet on her wrist against the electronic door lock. The panel beeped and unlocked, allowing her to enter.
She smiled professionally as she came inside, walking to the chair across from him. Her eyes flickered to his hands resting on the table, secured with cuffs and a short chain.
I thought you would never enter,
he said in a husky voice that raised the hairs on the nape of her neck.
His