Page 17 of How a Vampire Falls

Tai hung up first. Ryker secured his phone deep in the pocket of his jeans, sprang up onto the balcony railing, and leaped two stories to the ground. He landed in the manner of cats and vampires—easy, assured, lighter than his body weight should permit. His knees bent reflexively to absorb the slight shock, and then he was back up like a spring and bounding to his rental car.

Helovedbeing what he was. Most of his kind did, at least the ones he’d met so far. He watched humans stumble and shuffle through life and couldn’t imagine being trapped in such a graceless body. Human gymnasts had to train for hours a day toflip through the air half as high, half as fluidly as Ryker could do with a mere thought.

Yes, he’d shrivel and eventually die without the sustenance of human blood. No, he couldn’t abstain via willpower, couldn’t survive on animal blood despite human speculation to the contrary. He couldn’t sunbathe. He couldn’t enjoy the sensory overload that humans daily inflicted on themselves, which he experienced secondhand in their public spaces—perfume, room spray, scented detergents and lotions, stereos with sub-woofers in tiny sports cars, earbuds shouting audiobooks and podcasts into their heads.

But there were vampire public spaces too in his city. Vampire clubs, bars, restaurants. They kept the music down, the air scent-free, the AC off at the height of summer and the heat cranked to 80 in winter. As he drove to Harmony Ridge in the pre-dawn, the mountainous horizon ahead of him darker than the sky, he wondered how Leslie coped without these spaces. Maybe he wasn’t only a snob. Maybe he was a little spoiled.

He parked at the brown-brick library, the only car in view every direction he looked. Chirping crickets and rasping katydids serenaded him from all directions. The field past the old building was alive with creatures: field mice scampering through dry brush, two or three owls hunting, an opossum or raccoon within a dozen yards of where he stood. It lumbered along as both species tended to do, and its odor made him wrinkle his nose.

Ryker set out along Main Street. At first he kept to the red-dirt shoulder, but as the minutes ticked on and not a single car drove by, he shrugged and strolled down the middle of the street. The only traffic light he passed blinked yellow on two sides, red on the other two.

When he reached the diner Leslie had chosen above pricier Italian fare, he stopped and leaned backward until his shoulderblades touched the rough wood siding. The red paint was in need of refreshment but far from run-down. The window boxes held sweet-smelling red and pink flowers. The sign was hand-painted with care:harmony ridge dinerin broad cursive, and below that in block print,est. 1957.

He stayed still for a moment and tried to follow Tai’s instructions, but the empty diner held no answers. He kept walking and soon hit the end of the street. Literally. His flawless directional sense told him the wide strip of blacktop leading away from downtown would take him deeper into the foothills. He made an about-face and strolled for a while longer, past the blinking yellow light again, past his rental car in the library lot, until Main Street ended again, this time branching off into various residential neighborhoods. One of those was Leslie’s. This was her home. A mile or two from where he stood, she was probably asleep in her bed after nine days of wakefulness.

The first car of the morning coasted toward him, past him, and pulled over ahead of him onto the shoulder. It was at least ten years old, beige and topped with a light bar, marked with an official green seal on the side along with the wordsharmony ridge police.

The officer stepped out, a lit flashlight in one hand that he kept pointed at the ground between them, out of Ryker’s eyes. Ryker approached him slowly, kept about eight feet of distance between them for the human’s sake. The officer cocked his head and studied Ryker, utterly calm yet cautious.

“Do you need assistance?”

“No, sir,” Ryker said. “I’m in town visiting a friend, and I felt like wandering for a while.”

“At this hour?”

“I don’t sleep much.”

“Huh.” He took a few steps closer, then froze. “You’re a vampire?”

“That’s right. Do you know the Snows?”

“Sure. Good people.”

“I’m a friend of Leslie’s.”

“In that case, welcome to Harmony Ridge.” The man didn’t drop the professional persona lent by his badge, but his voice warmed. “I’d advise you not to walk in the street, but I guess you could dodge a speeding car if you needed to.”

“Sure thing.”

“Will you be here long enough to appreciate our town when it’s awake?”

“Yeah, for a few days. I’m Ryker Maddox, by the way.”

“Officer Dave West. Good to meet you.”

“Thanks for the welcome.”

They didn’t shake hands. For one thing, Officer West was on duty. For another, Ryker had never met a human who voluntarily touched him, and he preferred it that way. Their warmth, their soft skin…no, thanks. He had no idea how the occasional vampire/human couple made it work.

With a single wave of his hand, West got back into his squad car and pulled away. Ryker wandered halfway down a residential street, then turned around. Someone might happen to be awake, spot him from a window, report a prowler. He’d prefer not to scare anyone while visiting Leslie’s home.

And hang it all, Tai was right. The puzzle had taken hold of Ryker’s brain, and like every case he’d ever worked, it wouldn’t let go now until he solved it. Until he could explain for himself exactly why a talented, beautiful vampire had chosen to come home to Harmony Ridge, Tennessee.

Six

By noon the next day, Leslie could hardly concentrate on selling her art. Her senses were tuned for the moment she would smell a vampire’s presence at the fair again. Her mind kept wandering to the results of the matchmaking test. To the surging sense last night that something in her life had changed now that Ryker had entered it.

What was he doing right now? Would he wait to show up until the fair ended at five? That would be disappointing.

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