The Vampire Club

  THE VAMPIRE CLUB

  by

  J.R. Rain

  &

  Scott Nicholson

  Acclaim for J.R. Rain and Scott Nicholson:

  “Gripping, adventurous, and romantic—J.R. Rain’s The Lost Ark is a breakneck thriller that traces the thread of history from Biblical stories to current-day headlines.Be prepared to lose sleep!”

  —JAMES ROLLINS, international bestselling author of The Doomsday Key

  “Like Stephen King, Scott Nicholson knows how to summon serious scares.”

  —BENTLEY LITTLE, international bestselling author of His Father’s Son

  “I love this!”

  —PIERS ANTHONY, international bestselling author of On a Pale Horse on J.R. Rain’s Moon Dance

  “Scott Nicholson is a writer who always surprises and always entertains.”

  —JONATHAN MABERRY, bestselling author of The Dragon Factory

  “Dark Horse is the best book I’ve read in a long time!”

  —GEMMA HALLIDAY, award-winning author of Spying in High Heels

  “Scott Nicholson is a wonderful storyteller.”

  —SHARYN MCCRUMB, bestselling author of Lovely in Her Bones

  “Keep both hands on your pants, because Nicholson is about to scare them off.”

  —J.A. KONRATH, bestselling author of Cherry Bomb

  OTHER BOOKS BY SCOTT NICHOLSON

  Disintegration

  The Red Church

  Speed Dating with the Dead

  The Skull Ring

  Drummer Boy

  Forever Never Ends

  As I Die Lying

  Burial to Follow

  Cursed! (with J.R. Rain)

  October Girls (as L.C. Glazebrook)

  If I Were Your Monster (children’s book)

  Crime Beat

  Transparent Lovers

  Liquid Fear

  Bad Blood (with J.R. Rain and H.T. Night)

  Collections

  Curtains

  Flowers

  Ashes

  The First

  Murdermouth: Zombie Bits

  Head Cases

  Gateway Drug

  Screenplays

  The Skull Ring

  Creative Spirit

  The Gorge

  OTHER BOOKS BY J.R. RAIN

  The Lost Ark

  The Body Departed

  VAMPIRE FOR HIRE SERIES

  Moon Dance

  Vampire Moon

  American Vampire

  Moon Child

  Vampire Dawn

  THE JIM KNIGHTHORSE SERIES

  Dark Horse

  The Mummy Case

  Hail Mary

  ELVIS MYSTERY SERIES

  Elvis Has Not Left the Building

  You Ain’t Nothin’ But a Hound Dog (coming soon)

  THE SPINOZA SERIES

  The Vampire With the Dragon Tattoo

  The Vampire Who Played Dead

  The Vampire in the Iron Mask (coming soon)

  THE GRAIL QUEST TRILOGY

  Arthur

  Merlin (coming soon)

  WITH SCOTT NICHOLSON

  Cursed!

  Ghost College

  The Vampire Club

  WITH PIERS ANTHONY

  Aladdin Relighted

  Aladdin Sins Bad

  WITH SCOTT NICHOLSON AND H.T. NIGHT

  Bad Blood

  SHORT STORIES

  The Bleeder and Other Stories

  Teeth and Other Stories

  Vampire Nights and Other Stories

  Vampire Blues: Four Stories

  SCREENPLAYS

  Judas Silver

  Lost Eden

  NON-FICTION

  The Rain Interview (2008-2011)

  The Vampire Club

  Published by J.R. Rain and Scott Nicholson

  Copyright © 2011 by J.R. Rain and Scott Nicholson

  Cover design by Susanna at susannakubernus@googlemail.com

  www.photogravity.de

  All rights reserved.

  eBook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to your favorite ebookstore and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dedication

  To vampire lovers everywhere.

  The Vampire Club

  “I can walk like a man but I’m not one.”

  —Angel, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

  Vampire: “Slayer.”

  Buffy Summers: “Slayee.”

  —Buffy the Vampire Slayer

  Welcome

  The vampire dropped from above.

  The girl recoiled in shock, then let loose with an ear-shattering screech. The vampire stepped back, seemingly impressed by the set of lungs on his soon-to-be victim. As she screamed away, he waved his hands slowly like a maestro.

  And then those human lungs faltered and the scream turned into a gurgle. The concert was over.

  Staring hypnotically with his obsidian eyes, the vampire approached the helpless girl. She began whimpering. He eased up alongside her, peered down at her exposed neck, and frowned. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away a bit of something.

  His tongue slithered out as if summoned by a flute-playing Indian snake charmer. A shudder ran through the girl. He opened his mouth and stretched back his lips, revealing his long and slender teeth. He gripped her shoulders like a lover and sank his teeth deep into her neck—

  And I could no longer control myself. Quivering, I leaped from my seat in the movie theater and, waving my fist for needed emphasis, shouted: “God, yes!”

  Next to me, Buddy burst from his seat. “Suck it, baby, suck!”

  And then Juan further down: “You know you like it! You can’t hide it, baby!”

  Janice still further: “Suck like there’s no tomorrow!”

  And then finally the professor, with his old and gritty voice, boomed: “Suck until you urinate blood!”

  Which was, for me, a new one.

  We are The Vampire Club.

  Welcome.

  Chapter One

  My name is Andy Barthamoo, leader of The Vampire Club, which meets every Tuesday night at 7 p.m. in a small room in the basement of Western Virginia University’s library.

  There are five of us, and we have one thing in common: we love vampires. We love them from the tip of their pointed teeth to the tip of their leathery batwings, devoting much of our pre-adolescent, high school, and college years in search of them.

  You see, we want to become vampires.

  However, we have yet to come across any documented proof that vampires truly exist. Until now....

  * * *

  On this particular Tuesday night, as I stood before the other four members of the group, I had some interesting news to share. Once all the members had assembled before me, I began the meeting. “Now friends and colleagues, I have asked you this question before and I will ask you again: what is the purpose behind our club?”

  Four hands shot up. I would have expected no less. “Buddy,” I said, pointing to the blond football player in our group.

  Buddy stood, all 215 pounds of him. “To gather evidence to prove the existence of vampires.”

  “Very good, Buddy,” I said, and then paused for dramatic effect. “I believe I have found such evidence.”

  There was a gasp or two. Probably Janice, though she’d never admit it. She had a way of hiding her true f
eelings, which is why she resisted her no-doubt undying love for me.

  “This past week while doing research in the Virginia Times Library, I came across a newspaper article from the 1820s.” I opened my DayRunner and removed the photocopied article. I cleared my throat and read: “ ‘Stranger Shot Eleven Times, Dies Two Hours Later—Old man Andrews says he’d never seen anything like that in all his life. ‘Course I’m blind as a bat,’ says Andrews.’”

  “Interesting,” said Juan, pulling at the goat hair on his chin.

  “Now, as you will soon discover, this stranger behaved very much like a vampire.” I looked each member in the eye, stopping a bit longer with Janice and, of course, adding a wink. “And if so, there’s a chance he’s alive today. And I know where to find him.”

  “Where did you get this article?” asked Juan.

  “A weekly newspaper called The Inquireth.”

  “A tabloid!”

  “My assignment didn’t specify what newspaper I had to use—”

  “A tabloid story about a mythical creature. Sure you didn’t confuse it with the Incredible Bat Boy? We can’t accept it as fact, Andy, or anywhere close to the truth,” Juan said.

  “I thought the same thing, until I read between the lines and discovered the writer could not have made this up. He hit too close to vampiric truth. And it was before Bram Stoker, back when vampires were legend and not yet mainstream fiction.”

  “Just read the article,” said Professor L. He smiled and nodded his gray head at me. “And we’ll see what exactly you’ve stumbled upon.”

  Professor L was not only head of the Vampire Studies department, he was its only teacher. This was the only university in the nation that offered Vampire Studies as a major, and it attracted the devout, which was pretty much us four. You couldn’t just spout lines from Buffy the Vampire Slayer to get in. You had to know about Carmilla, Varney the Vampire, Vlad Dracul, and Nosferatu.

  I cleared my throat dramatically, gazed at a promotional poster for The Lost Boys on the far wall to help me focus—Corey Haim had been my hero when I was a kid—then read the article aloud:

  “It is common knowledge that evil is brewing in our Pennsylvania. Folk have been disappearing across the state for the last year. Most thought it was Indians, yet there have been reports of a pale-faced demon haunting an area right before a person is discovered missing.

  We all know we all got sort of a start when a pale-faced stranger turned up in our town last week, staying at Buford’s Boarding House. He called himself ‘Laumer,’ and never said whether it was his first name or last. We all kept a suspicious eye on the stranger, but he seemed harmless enough; indeed, he was very charming, though rarely seen except at night.

  But when old Al Hockborough disappeared, we knew we were in the presence of evil, perhaps Satan himself. A committee was formed, addressing the issue of the stranger and what to do about him. Four of the ten in the committee, including yours truly, wanted to burn him. Sure, give him a trial, and then burn him. Al was a great guy. He didn’t deserve to die by the hands of Satan. The others in the committee, led by Ed Royce, wanted to search his residence; maybe we’d find old Al.

  At Buford’s Boarding House, we confronted the stranger at noon, though he was somewhat bedraggled. He was once again all charm, and let us search his residence at will. Nothing unordinary. He expressed his extreme concern over the disappearance of Al, and that times were indeed hard enough for a traveling man without people disappearing and heaping suspicion on innocent strangers.

  It was pretty much back to the drawing board, though some of us didn’t like it, especially Ed Royce. ‘Fire’ could be the only word to describe our town’s blacksmith. He really had it in for the stranger, though most of us accepted the fact that his presence was purely coincidental to the disappearing of Al.

  We were not surprised then when two days later gunfire shattered the night like fine crystal in the hands of a newborn. Roused from their sleep, most folks stumbled out of their beds to find the stranger dying in the streets. Ed and his gang stood by explaining, while the stranger lay gasping in the street. “He tried to kill Edith! We caught him just in time.” That’s when Edith answered curtly, crying. “He just offered to carry my bags home!

  “Then why did he attack us?” demanded Ed.

  “Maybe because you bullies cornered him with your guns.”

  “Look at Billy, Sheriff, the stranger done him in good.” And Billy was a terrible mess.

  “He also just disappeared on us,” said Hank. “When we looked again, he was behind us somehow. We shot at him,” Hank went on, “I knows I hit him a few times, and the others did, too, but he kept on running.”

  “And that’s when he ran into me,” said Ed Royce. “One shot was all I needed.” The stranger died two hours later.

  The sheriff investigated further, and it was agreed it was in self-defense that the stranger had to die.

  If he was an innocent man, God forgive us. And if he was the killer, may God deal with him appropriately.”

  They were silent, mulling over what they had just heard. I gave them a moment to reflect before spurring them into a conclusion. “Now, Buddy, who and what was that article really talking about?”

  “A vampire, of course!”

  “Indeed. The clues are all there. But I have another question: Who is this Edward Royce, and how did he and his gang kill our vampire?”

  “The answer,” said Janice, “was the bullet. A silver bullet.”

  “Exactly!” I stepped from behind the podium and circled the room. “Fact: we have researched vampires extensively. Fact: we have read all the vampire fiction, and though usually it’s a good read, most of it should be burned. Fact: we know more about vampires than anyone else alive. Question: can a silver bullet kill a vampire?”

  As expected, four hands shot up in unison. “Juan,” I said.

  Juan stood. “In our studies, we have uncovered voluminous accounts of vampires. The trouble is that most vary as to the true characteristics of vampires. So what we have done, as you all know, is sort through all the slush and find similarities. We are the uncoverers of fact.

  “Simply put, we have uncovered the truths and dispelled the fallacies; and, unbeknownst to most folks, a silver bullet can wound a vampire but not kill a vampire. Our vampire is not dead.”

  Chapter Two

  Buddy, not missing a beat, asked: “So how did this Eddie Royce dude know to use a silver bullet on the vampire?”

  “Professor L, though I know you’ve taught and lectured and enlightened our young minds all day long, I think we need your expertise,” I said. “Though we know more about vampires than the vampires themselves, I, for one, have never come across the name ‘Edward Royce.’ Please tell me you’ve heard of this Edward Royce chap.”

  The professor made his way to the podium—this being a rather formal club—and began with his usual grunt, then cough, then the replacing of the stuff from his nose into his handkerchief, then on into his pocket. I tried not to notice the wet spot forming on his chest.

  “I love vampires more than sex,” he began, an intro we could have done without. “I have studied them longer than you kids have lived. Yes, I have come across the name Edward Royce. From the time period and the description of the man, I am sure he was a relative of mine. And as you guys and gal might have already guessed, it appears, and this is a first for me, that he was a vampire hunter.”

  I felt my anger and disgust welling in me. “Sir,” I said, standing from my folding chair. “You mean to tell me you are related to a...a vampire hunter?” The words were like bile in my mouth.

  The others nodded in agreement, faces convulsing equally between shock and horror.

  “I am not pleased, my students, and I am most ashamed. I have tried to keep this bit o’ fact from you, for it is not something to be proud of.”

  “Indeed!”

  “But now is the time for truth, and I’ll begin by saying that my great granddad to the fift
h generation was rumored to be rather odd. He was said to have an uncommon fear of vampires, for the kin in question would have his house layered in garlic and other false vampire warders. He has been the target of many a family joke over the ages, even though he’s quite dead and can’t defend himself. Thus is the way of my sadistic family. But that was about the extent of it: just a little nuts, and unnaturally afraid of vampires. But now, I see he took his fear a step further and actually hunted them down.”

  “But why would someone want to kill a vampire?” asked Janice, her pretty face scrunched into confusion.

  Professor L said, “It was a senseless, mindless, cruel act that was perpetrated upon the Vampire Laumer, but you must remember that Royce’s foul deed was ultimately to our benefit, for the vampire is not dead—he is alive today!”

  And, though our numbers were small, a cheer shook the very walls of our small meeting room.

  “But not only that, Janice,” I said, a wicked gleam in my eye. “We can revive the vampire.”

  Professor L continued, “In those days, only a handful of people truly believed in vampires, much like now, unfortunately. I did my doctoral thesis on vampire hunters, and basically they had no idea how to kill a vampire. They did, however, use the silver bullet, and that worked almost as well, for the vampires were dysfunctional to the point of extreme immobility, sort of like the president of the United States.”