Page 11 of Newly Undead in Dark River

Now that I had met Angeline, I knew the apartment itself would be beautiful, but nothing prepared me for the enveloping warmth that washed over me when I stepped into the room and switched on the light. Polished timber floorboards gleamed under an ornate chandelier. The couch was a comfy dark leather, and when I ran my hand across the back, it was butter soft beneath my fingertips. A massive Persian rug, hopefully, a knockoff, designated the living space, in front of the hearth. Although there was a state of the art gas heater, the idea of sitting in front of a real log fire, drinking wine and reading a book had definite appeal. Two doors led off the living space, probably to the bedroom and bathroom, and straight in front of me was a large open plan kitchen. I'd been expecting an industrial kitchen, but in hindsight, that would have been ridiculous considering she had a commercial kitchen downstairs. Polished granite benchtops lined the walls, and an island bench with a dark wood top sat in the middle of the kitchen. The island was big enough that you could eat at it, doubling as a breakfast bar.

I headed back into the bedroom and found it basically bare except for an old wrought iron bed, and a solid chest of drawers. I imagined most of the decorative stuff that would have made this room feel homey went with Angeline when she moved. I looked forward to making the space mine eventually.

Walker was still standing near the door, and I saw there were several boxes next to him. “This is the stuff from the townspeople. Everyone donated what they could, and you should find some linen and things in there for tonight. There are some clothes and boots, we guessed the size, but enough until you get your first paycheck. Angeline said she'll pay you in advance, once you are all signed up and an official citizen of Dark River.” The town’s generosity was overwhelming. I opened the lid on one of the boxes, and I saw a beautiful quilt in purple and blue. I pulled it out and marveled at it. It was a work of art. It would have cost a fortune to buy in the store.

“That's from some of the quilting circle girls. Don't worry, they have dozens of them. Eternity can equal a lot of quilts. They sell a lot of them on eBay to pay for new supplies. Before you look further, I have two more gifts, and then I'll let you settle into your new place.”

He pulled a black garment bag. “Ella over at Baroque, which is the town boutique, said that if you decided you wanted to join, you should have something nice for the ceremony, so this is her welcome gift for you.” I took the hanger from him and unzipped it to peek inside. It was a beautiful red lace dress, and I couldn't wait to get it out of the box.

“And this is a welcome gift from me.” He handed me a cellphone box with a big white bow on top. “Just because we are in the middle of nowhere, doesn't mean you have to be out of touch with the world. My number is on the post-it note inside. Hopefully, I don't have to warn you not to do anything silly like calling your parents or going on your Facebook to change your status to ‘dead'. Nothing traceable back to your old life.”

I nodded a little glumly. That hard piece of plastic and glass made me depressed. Well, at least I could still play Candy Crush.

Walker stuck his hat back on his head, even though the sun had gone to bed hours ago. “Also, you might want to put some thought into what your new name might be. There is power in a name. We have to change them every eighty years or so, but you always remember your first.” With a finger wave, he left, and I was alone.

I dragged the boxes further into the living room. I started unpacking them, giving myself no time to dwell on the past. What I would give for my iPod right now, some angry as sin prog-rock, and I'd forget all my troubles at least for a little while.

One whole box was from Bert and Beatrice at the diner. Slightly chipped, mismatched plates were wrapped in yesterday's newspaper. Unwrapping each individual piece was like Christmas morning. Did vampires even celebrate Christmas? Some pots and soda glasses came out next, and buried at the bottom of it was a bottle of red wine. Bless their sweet hearts. I poured myself a glass of wine into a soda glass and carried it into the kitchen where I stacked away all my new kitchenware. I realized there was an old 1960's style radio on top of the fridge, and I pulled it down. I turned the dial but got only static. Moving it steadily, I listened for the slight change in white noise that signaled a channel. Wow, I really didn't know how good I had it, with auto-scan tuning. Hell, with digital radio.

The only channel I got was a golden oldies station, with no DJ. That suited me just fine. With Joe Cocker telling me that I'd get by with a little help from my friends, I felt infinitely better. Soon the apartment started to take shape. I made the bed and put the clothes in the drawers. They were a strange mish-mash of clothing styles. Some looked straight from the puritan era, with long skirts and high necklines, but mostly it was a lot of old jeans and t-shirts, a few wool knit jumpers and a thick wool jacket.

I hadn't seen the bathroom yet, but when I walked in, I was equally as in love with it as I was with the rest of the apartment. A clawfoot tub took pride of place straight in front of the door. Long brass taps affixed to the wall. Above it, a showerhead jutted out of exposed copper piping. A deep granite bowl on a pedestal was the sink. The toilet was the only new thing in the bathroom, everything else looked turn of the century.

I walked back into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed. I wiggled the phone out of my front pocket and stared at it. I knew my parent’s numbers off by heart. We'd lived in the same house since I was born. I knew that phone number better than my own brother's birth date. My finger itched to dial just so I could hear their voices one more time.

I threw the phone away from me before temptation overwhelmed me. There was a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” I called out. I'd been to college, and watched slasher movies. The moral of those stories was always ask who's at the door, and hope the masked serial killer says, “It’s a masked serial killer.”

“Angeline. I brought you up some dinner, in case you are hungry.”

The thought of food made my stomach rumble, and I hurried over to let Angeline in. She looked around the room.

“Looks like you are settling in alright. It's just a couple of baguettes leftover from today, but I thought you might want to stay in tonight.” She was right. After today's little exhibition on the pavement with Walker, I wasn't quite ready to face the townspeople at the diner.

I took the sandwiches she offered and put them in the fridge. Walker had already put my blood bags in there.

I looked over at Angeline, who'd sat down on the couch. I poured another soda glass of wine and handed it to her as I sat in the recliner.

“I have to choose a new name, but it's really hard. I couldn't name our family dog, let alone myself.”

She nodded knowingly. “I always choose a name that I think will sound good when shouted out in climax. Angeline!”

Wine sprayed all over my shirt as I let out a snort of laughter. It did sound good when she shouted it out like that.

“Give it a go,” Angeline suggested.

“Emma!” I let out a little giggle.

Angeline shook her head. “Nah, I don't think so. Too boring. You're a vampire now, a supernatural being with an almost immortal life span. Have fun with it, girl.”

“Phoenix! Nope, too cliché.”

“Oh I know, Vixen!” Her imitations of the male climax were getting deeper and more gruff. I had the giggles now.

“Well, that does sound good, but I think Vixen might be a bit of a wild name to be saddled with for eighty years. How about Raine?”

She took a sip of her wine and thought it over. “I think it's perfect. Raine it is. The number crunchers will generate you a last name.” She reached over and clinked our soda glasses.

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