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Jalie left the rundown inn where she was staying just as the blazing sun sank
into the blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea. The innkeeper had begged her not
to venture out. It was Midsummer’s Eve, the end of the longest day, the start of
the shortest night. According to a thousand-year-old legend, a vampire awoke on
this night and stalked the sea shore in the humid summer heat.
The land
known centuries ago as Europe was ancient and covered with ruins. The best of
humanity had fled to new worlds among the stars. Those left behind lived like
peasants, grubbing a living from the weary earth. On this night they huddled
behind the safety of locked doors, gripping their charms against
evil.
Jalie had seen many bizarre things on her journeys among the
worlds, some strange enough to make her hope the vampire might be real. After
all, her immortal existence was unique. The doctors had decided she was a
mutation, a genetic freak. They’d wanted to study her, perhaps dissect her, but
she’d fled and spent centuries hiding from the hunters they sent after her --
until the loneliness, the constant loss of all she loved, became too much to
bear. Now she was a hunter herself, an immortal in search of death.
Was
the legend that had brought her to this village a tall tale to amuse a tourist
from another world, or the truth? Soon enough she’d know. When she reached the
beach, she kicked off her sandals and strode barefoot across the white sand. A
huge moon hung above the sea, pale as bleached bones. Stars gleamed in a velvet
black sky.
She stood for a long time gazing out at the ocean, watching
the waves come hissing in with the tide, throwing their sea-foamed crests at the
sand. A cool breeze molded her long cotton skirt to her legs and dried the sweat
that glistened on her skin. Her breasts strained against the thin fabric of her
halter top, her nipples hardening and aching with the need that tormented
her.
When she turned back toward the land, a shock ran through her, sharp
as a blade. A shadow in the shape of a man stood between her and the path back
to the village. With legs spread wide and arms folded across his chest, he
watched her, motionless, as if he’d risen up out of the sand.
Jalie bit
back her cry of surprise. A drop of sweat gathered at the nape of her neck and
slid down her spine. Was it possible the legend was true?
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