Chapter One

Screams, cheers, and laughter rang out before eventually fading as the hours barreled toward midnight. By one in the morning, the bars near and around the square were the only sound. Rock music, motorcycles, and jeeps revving. Mustangs growling and bellowing through the beachside community as tyres squealed on the still-hot blacktop.

The roller coaster and Ferris wheel of the amusement park had both gone dark for the night as their shadowy silhouettes loomed over the beach and pier like sleeping giants. The smells of fried dough, burgers, and fries lingered in the air, scents that he knew had a way of sticking around until after all the tourists and kiddies packed up for the season and went back to their normal lives.

Craig Sheehan had been drinking since work let out at the shipyard. He couldn’t believe Darlene had dumped him. Darlene, his fiancée of the last two years, told him last night that she was done. They were finished. After five damn years of devotion, she’d had enough waiting around.

Drown your sorrows. That’s what Craig’s old man had always said. And hell, the man practiced what he preached. Drank himself into the grave, gone three years now.

“Like father, like son,” Craig said aloud.

“What’s that?” Duke asked.

Duke was a good guy. He was the reason Craig drove down here rather than going to one of the old haunts up in Bath. Duke was a stocky, tan, barrel of a man with a long black ponytail and a huge smile. The guy was straight out of Hawaii and drinking at his new place here in Old Orchard, surrounded by the tiki torches, the tables skirted in straw, the ukulele music; it made Craig feel like he was in an episode of Magnum P.I. Plus, Duke really was a great dude.

“Nothin’, Duke,” Craig slurred. “Just nothin’.”

Duke walked over, wiping down the bar as he did.

“Let me call you a cab, huh, Craig?” he said.

“I ain’t got enough money for a cab back to my house.”

He didn’t want to go back home. There was too much of her there. Everywhere. Her Snoopy coffee mug, her uncomfortable wicker sofa, her flannel sheets.

He was crying before he knew it.

“Shit, Craig,” Duke said. “I’ll take care of the fare.”

Craig shook his head and then downed the rest of his beer. “I don’t…I don’t want to go home tonight.”

“Why, bud? What happened?” Duke asked.

“Dar…Darlene….” He sobbed like a child. “She left me, Duke.”

Duke leaned down and gave Craig’s forearm a pat. “Hey,” he said. “Let me finish closing up, huh? I’ll put you up at my place for tonight. Sound good?”

Craig clamped his lips tightly to keep himself from bawling and nodded.

After a few minutes watching as Duke put the chairs and stools up for the night, he felt tired. So damn tired. He just needed to put his head down for a minute.

“Okay, bud,” Duke said, startling him awake as he patted him on the back. “Let me go take a leak and then we’ll head out, okay?”

Craig nodded.

As soon as Duke disappeared into the bathroom, Craig climbed off his stool and stumbled for the door. It wasn’t Duke’s job to take care of him.

No, it’s – it was – Darlene’s.

Craig hurried down the pier, passing a few drunk couples necking. He managed to make it to the ramp before his stomach rejected the last three beers. He heaved over the railing. Knowing Duke would be looking for him, he forced himself onward. He shuffled down to the beach and found a cool place in the dark beneath the pier. Duke might come looking for him, but he didn’t think the guy would come all the way down here. Nice guy or not, he’d probably figure Craig had drifted off in the dispersing crowd and stumbled down the road.

As if on cue, he heard Duke calling his name. The voice never came close and only faded, until he stopped calling completely.

Craig dropped down onto the cold sand, briefly wondering if the tide came in this far. He couldn’t recall. He doubted it but wouldn’t that be something, to pass out now and wake up dead in the sea?

* * *

His eyes shot open. The water hadn’t come for him yet. He listened as the waves lapped the shore. He must have passed out. Luckily, his stomach hadn’t revolted again. He climbed to his feet and realised he was still hammered drunk. He braced himself with one of the pier posts and rested his forehead against the back of his hand.

Outside of the waves, there was nothing but silence. The pier, the beach, the whole damn town had retired for the night. For all he knew it could be nearing morning. Wondering what the hell he was going to do now, he regretted not taking Duke up on his offer.

When he lifted his head and turned around, he nearly screamed.

A tall man with long black hair stood there, gazing at him behind dark eyes.

“Hi,” Craig managed. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. A chill raged down his spine. He felt his skin break out in goose flesh. There was so much about this person standing here that wasn’t right. Where the hell had he come from? Had he been there the whole time? Had he been watching him? Was he homeless? A beach bum? No. The fancy long coat and boots said he was probably well off.

“If this is your spot, I’m sorry. I’ll juss be on my w—” Craig started.

The man came at him fast. So quick that Craig hadn’t even seen him move his legs. As if he had glided like an evil Peter Pan across the sand.

Evil?

The man’s hand was on his throat. Craig tried to fend him off, batting at his arm. It was as useful as a toddler trying to break free from a parent. The man had yet to make a sound. Not a breath, not a sigh. Even now, lifting Craig from the ground with one hand, he did so in silence.

“Puh-puh, pleeease,” Craig managed.

“Yes,” the man said, his voice smooth as silk. “Beg.”

And with that, Craig was pulled to the man. Pain exploded in his neck as the man bit into his throat. He felt the guy sucking on him. Drawing from him. Craig’s limbs grew weak, his breathing slowed. A strange sense of peace washed over him. His heart seemed to fall in line, beating with each pull from this man’s mouth, and swooshing with the waves.

Craig had just enough time to think of Darlene when she’d still loved him. And then, he would have laughed if he’d had the time or ability as the word vampire crossed his dying mind.