A Shade of Darkness

A Shade

of Darkness

Legend of Vampiric Love

J.A. Klassen

iUniverse, Inc.

Bloomington

A Shade of Darkness

Copyright © 2013 by J.A. Klassen.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4759-7001-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-7002-9 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012924335

iUniverse rev. date: 02/07/2013

Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Acknowledgements

I want to thank my oldest son, Chad, for pushing me to write this story. If he hadn’t pushed so much, I wouldn’t have even got started. I also thank him for designing my web page for my book as well as the cover for my book. Thank you, Chad, I love you.

I very much want to say thank you to my editor, Megan Shapka. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have gotten this far with my writing.

And last, but not least, a thank you to everyone at iuniverse.com, who helped me get my book out there.

Chapter One

The memories keep coming, causing a storm to roil inside him, as black and vicious as that which blows its way across the seas that he loves. How stupid he had been to begin with; how vulnerable and weak later. How terrified, but at the same time filled with lust and power. He remembers all too clearly what she had made him feel. Just thinking about it now has made him so terribly angry.

Her name was Zenia and she had been a very beautiful, sensual woman, always luring men in with her exotic, otherworldly looks. She had this talent when she was human, but now, it’s magnified tenfold. She had long blond hair the colour of burnished gold, her eyes the colour of violets, and her skin felt like silk the colour of pearls. Being a vampire made her very exotic, but wicked to her very soul. You could see it in her eyes, evil-incarnate looking out. The way she sauntered into a room also told you what she was truly like. The way she moved her body, so sensually; she owned the room and whoever was in it. Most men were drawn to her like a honey bee to an exotic flower. They couldn’t help it and got into deep water for their troubles.

He could still remember like it was yesterday, the way she had lured him to her with her looks and lust-filled eyes. Come here, lover boy. I want to see you more clearly. Her beautiful, violet eyes were rimmed with red, her soft full lips pouting provocatively, sharp white teeth peeking out. I won’t hurt you, a big strong man like you and little me. What could I possibly do to hurt you? I just want to touch you, be close to you for one night. He became hypnotised by her sultry voice. She had lured him in so easily.

Aye, you are something else. I think maybe you could offer me something. He had swaggered up to her, pretending he had the upper hand with this delectable, exotic lady. He couldn’t believe she had deceived him so easily.

Oh, he could still remember, even if it was over three hundred years ago. He could still remember what it felt like when she sunk her teeth into his neck. First, she gave him a kiss with her luscious lips.

Oh, sweetness, that feels so great, he moaned.

Then she bit him. How intense his emotions had suddenly become. The quick, sharp pain of her teeth going into his neck, then the euphoria and lust he felt as she began to drink him dry. Oh, my lord, that feels wonderful. It’s my turn to kiss you.

But she kept sucking and sucking, not letting up. At the last moment he realized she was going to kill him, was killing him, and there wasn’t anything he could do. He was too weak from loss of blood. What are you doing? Stop… you’re killing me, he whimpered.

Yes, I am and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it. But I’m not really going to kill you. I will make you into what I am. I think you will be perfect for me. We can be lovers for all eternity. He was too far gone to do anything else but lie in her arms, and feel the pain and ecstasy.

He’s been holed up for quite some time now and he’s getting restless. He needs a change of scenery to help him forget. He hasn’t seen Zenia for fifty years now; he had snuck away from her one stormy night. He prays that he goes for another fifty years or more without seeing her. The last time he saw her, she promised great retribution if he left her, but he had to get away from her anyway; she was starting to make his life even more of a living nightmare than it was already.

A cruise on his ship, the Dark Lady, ought to soothe his restlessness. He wants to see what he can find, whether it’s something or someone. He’ll have to wait until dusk, and then set out to get his ship ready to sail.

His name is Vincenzo Alessandri, but everyone calls him Vince. He was born in 1675 and died a young man of thirty-five in 1710. He’s still thirty-five, but not so young anymore. When he died he was transformed into something supernatural, and because of the transformation, he is no longer like ordinary men. He has supernatural abilities other men only dream about. Of course, there are flaws that go along with these abilities, but he has learned to live with them, all of them. He didn’t have any choice. Zenia didn’t give him a choice.

Before he died he was a handsome devil, but now even more so. The ladies, when he comes into contact with them, don’t refuse him anything. He’s 5'11" with a medium build, which most women like. His good looks are enhanced by his dark, shoulder length hair, which he usually keeps back in a pony-tail; mesmerizing, dark-chocolate eyes; high, chiselled cheek bones; a straight, narrow nose; a full bottom lip topped off with a moustache and a little goatee below. His skin was swarthy, but now because of what he is, it has lightened up a bit, but it’s still on the dusky side. And he’s graceful; he moves fluidly like a jungle cat stalking its prey.

He was a pirate in his former life and he still lives on his old ship, the Dark Lady, which always rides high on the waves in the balmy Caribbean. He has no need for cargo anymore because he doesn’t need a whole lot.

The Dark Lady is special too; a ghost ship that no one can see unless he wants them to. She’s a pretty little ship, made of wood that’s seventy-five feet long, with two masts rigged with multiple square sails. She’s small and easy to handle for quick getaways, a popular choice for pirates. He’s the only one manning it now. He’s always alone, but he likes it that way, or at least he used to. He likes to run in southern waters where the nights are always balmy and warm. Most times he finds an island that is deserted and anchors the Dark Lady in a hidden cove to spend time on sandy beaches under swaying palm trees.

He has outlived all of his crew and mates and has been living a solitary life, not wanting to be involved with anyone else because he knows he’ll outlive them. To begin with, he was scared he would just use them for food, until he learned to control himself and his hungers. He used to prefer it that way, to be alone in solitude. Now something is pushing him to want something more, to have someone he can be with. He doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

Sometimes he wishes he could be human again. He misses the companionship of others. He’s thinking if something comes up, if an opportunity presents itself, just maybe, he will do something about it because sometimes he really does miss being around other people, especially women. Boy, does he miss being around women.

Sitting at her desk overlooking the ocean, Bronwyn finishes her second book. She’s been working on it for over a year now. She looks up to ponder what it all means. She’s elated and relieved. It feels great to have finished it. But she’s sad too because now she can no longer write about the characters she has created and loved; the characters she has spent so much time and energy on.

To stop herself from being sad, she starts to think about her next book. Her mind suddenly switches to another thought: she’s worked so hard she deserves to go on a holiday to enjoy her free time. She really does deserve one after all the long hours she put in her book.

This is going to be exciting . . . starting a new chapter in my life. Need to get my manuscript sent off . . . as soon as possible. Sure hope they like it.

Her bungalow, on the beach, is small and dismal, but she doesn’t mind too much. She wanders the small rooms that overlook the ocean and stops to enjoy the view for a moment, still thinking about the book she just finished, and then walks out onto a large, expansive deck situated at the back of the house. Here she stops to enjoy the enticing tangy smell of the ocean and the sound of waves lapping at the shoreline. This is why she chose the house, but any house by the ocean would do; she loves the ocean and wants to be near it.

In fine weather, she enjoys the ocean from her deck a lot. She enjoys writing while sitting on her deck too. She’s fairly happy with her decision to move to this quaint town of Sooke, which is situated on the west side of Vancouver Island, not far from Victoria. But in the winter months, when it’s dismal and raining, she’s wants to be where it’s sunny and bright.

Bronwyn, who is thirty, was born on the prairies, a sibling of five other children; she’s the middle child. Her parents totally ignored all five of their children while they were growing up. None of the siblings are close with each other either. Bronwyn is the first one to move away from the area the family calls home. She discovered her love of the ocean at a young age and promised herself she would move there when the first opportunity arose. She was braver than the rest of her siblings and more of an adventurist, and the thought of moving away from her home didn’t bother her in the least. In fact, she was glad to get away from all the unhappy memories. And here she is, with not a single regret.

She returns to the house and glances in the mirror in the hallway as she passes by. She stops to have a closer look at her 5'6" fit frame and is pleased. She works hard to keep it that way by following a regime of working out regularly at the gym and enjoying one of her great loves, swimming in the ocean, even in the winter months. She looks intently for a moment at her attributes: burnished gold, shoulder-length hair with a slight wave; jade-green eyes; pert nose; soft, bee-stung lips; one lone dimple on a heart-shaped face; a beauty mark on her left cheek just below her eye. She shakes her head at herself for being so silly and walks away, chanting a mantra to herself: Where to go for my holiday?

It’s been such crappy weather lately, she wants to go where it’s hot and sunny for her holiday, and to get away from the rain; somewhere in the Caribbean would be nice. She ponders for a moment, trying to decide how to pick a place and then decides to use a map. The method is kind of silly, but it seems to work and she can be silly if she wants. She goes and gets a map out of the cupboard in her office and sits at her desk. She closes her eyes and randomly stabs her finger at the map; wherever her finger lands is where she’ll go.

Jamaica. She thinks about it for a moment, decides that it would be a beautiful place to visit, and starts to get excited. Then she looks up at her monitor and notices an article on the Internet about the Gasparilla Pirate Festival that is being held in Tampa, Florida at the end of January.

Hmm, wouldn’t it be kind of cool to write about pirates? she muses aloud. Right then and there she decides to write about pirates, and go see the festival where she can begin her research; then she’ll continue on her way to Jamaica from there.

In fact, I’ll go to Port Royal, Jamaica, where pirates used to hang out; a good place to do research for my new book. I wonder where else they used to hang out? Hmmm… I think I’ll look into it some more.

Chapter Two

The next morning, Bronwyn decides to go to Victoria to visit her friends, to tell them the good news and maybe get more ideas for her upcoming holidays; she needs to tell someone. On the way there, she’ll stop and send her manuscript to her publisher.

Bronwyn met two women while living in Victoria. She moved there hoping it would be a nice place to live, being close to the ocean and all. However, it was too big and too busy, so she decided to move out to Sooke instead; it was quieter, and she’s just a small town girl at heart. But while she was in Victoria, she made friends with these two women but not good friends, since they’re both married and she’s not. Usually when she is with them, she feels like a third wheel and she envies them their relationship with their husbands; she really hopes that some day she will fall in love too. Since Sooke is not very far from Victoria, she has stayed in touch and visits them once in a while.

Bronwyn throws on a comfy pair of jeans and a pink cardigan. Stepping out her door, she spies her neighbour outside enjoying the hazy sunlight. She’s a grumpy, old woman who befriended Bronwyn when Bronwyn first moved in. She is a nosy gossip and gets on Bronwyn’s nerves a lot but Bronwyn tries being friendly with her anyway.

Bronwyn hastily walks over to have a quick chat with her to tell her the good news before heading out. Her neighbor looks up with a grunt when she hears Bronwyn, I’m doing fine, thanks. Can complain but no one will listen anyway. What a day we’re having, it’s almost nice. It’s about time.

Yes, it is a nice day. Guess what? I’ve finished my book. I’m so excited, yet sad too. I thought, because the weather is so nice, I would go to Victoria and visit some friends for the afternoon and share my good news. Well, I hope you have a good day and maybe I’ll see you later.

I’ll try to have a good day, she grumps as Bronwyn walks away.

Bronwyn climbs into her mauve Chevy SUV and is quickly on her way to Victoria. It’s not very far so it doesn’t take long to get there; both her friends live in a suburb on the west side. She pulls into the driveway and parks. She had phoned them earlier so they would be expecting her.

She walks up to the front door and rings the doorbell. Hi, guys! Are you ready to go out for lunch? Bronwyn asks as she’s let into the house. Guess what? I’ve finished my book and want to celebrate. I thought you both would like to celebrate with me, since I have no family here.

We’re happy for you and glad you finally finished it. It’s about time, one of them replies. Lunch will be more fun now because we’re celebrating something. I do hope your book will be a bestseller.

They leave the house and pile into Bronwyn’s SUV. It takes about half an hour to get to their favourite restaurant. As they’re walking in, Bronwyn says, I have more good news. I’ve decided to go on a holiday to celebrate finishing my book and I thought it would be nice if you would help me plan it. Was going to ask you to come along but know you wouldn’t anyway, so what’s the point.

As the waiter seats them, one of her friends pipes up, You’re so lucky to be going on a holiday right now. The weather is so gloomy this time of year. I would love to go but can’t.

Yeah, I agree, it would be a great time to go, the other one replies as well.

I’ve also been thinking I want to write about pirates for my next book. I saw an article on the Internet about a pirate festival they hold every January in Tampa, Florida. I thought it would be great fun to go down there to do some research and holiday at the same time.

Hey, that’s a cool idea. I hope you have fun. Pirates are a fascinating topic and should make good material for your next book, one friend responds.

For the rest of their lunch, a very long lunch, they discuss Bronwyn’s plans, helping her decide where to go, what to do, what clothes she should take, and what fun she’s going to have, even if she will be by herself.

It takes Bronwyn a couple of weeks to get her trip completely organized. Since the Pirate Festival is held at the end of January, she’ll go there first. She plans on spending a few days there then fly down to Port Royal, Jamaica and stay a few days. Next, she’ll fly to Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic for a few more days; then off to Nassau, Bahamas for a bit until finally flying back to the States to Key West, Florida to finish up her holiday. The whole time she’ll be doing research for her book while enjoying her vacation.

Finally, it’s time for her vacation to begin and she flies into Tampa for the Gasparilla Pirate Festival and the first leg of her trip. When she walks out of the airport, she lifts her face to the sun to bask in it. The weather is perfect. Not too hot, just right, with lots of sunshine.

She gives herself a hug, I can’t believe I’m finally here. I am so going to enjoy myself.

It’s the end of January and Vince is getting restless again, so he decides to go for another joyride in the Dark Lady. When the sun sets after a long day of waiting, Vince is out of the cove and in open water. He loves it out here; it makes him feel more free and alive than normal. Since he’s not really technically alive at all, that’s pretty difficult. When someone has been existing as long as he has, it takes a lot to feel anything.

He decides to go to the pirate festival in Tampa just for the heck of it; to see how humans of this generation define pirates and if their view is anything true to life. And besides, it’ll give him something interesting to do; it could be fun.

He sails the Dark Lady as bold as brass into Tampa Bay, up Hillsborough Bay, and docks beside the Gasparilla pirate ship, which had moored there earlier in the day. He jumps nimbly onto the dock and jauntily walks up to the convention centre and quickly bypasses it. He nonchalantly heads over to the area where the festival is being held in downtown Tampa, a smile of anticipation on his handsome face. What am I going to run into tonight, or should I say whom? I know I’ll blend in, dressed as I am.

He looks down at the clothes he is wearing, the typical pirate clothing of the old days. A bright red bandana is tied over his raven black, shoulder-length hair with a tri-cornered brown hat made of leather sitting on top; a black doublet over an ecru shirt with flared sleeves; tight black jeans and