Chapter One of "Clandestine", the first book of the Cameron Chronicles

Okay...so...I need a pick me up today so...in case you do to I thought you might enjoy the 1st chapter of the Cameron Chronicles. As you can see by the title I've finally picked a title for the first short book. It'll be called Clandestine. I chose this because this is the book where he learns about the Clandestine World...what it holds...not just dead vampires but ones that were born and live that way...werewolves...shape shifters and witches, of all four factions; air, fire, water and earth. He learns how some of the Clandestine World are good---not all are evil. Some are on this planet to help---seen as Jesus' foot soldier's on this earth. Either way, in this book he will learn about this world so hence the title.

Here is a rough chatper one...there will be mistakes I'm sure so...just keep that in mind.

Chapter 1

I could see him—sitting across the room from me at the club, but he didn’t see me nor was I even on his radar. His mistake. Of course, why would he? Notice me, that is. Who was I to him? I was nobody. Well, correction, he might see me as dinner for all I know but from where I sat, he didn’t even seem to even consider me worthy of that. I was just one of many young human adults dressed in black, lounging in the city’s most popular Goth/Industrial club.

It was a new genre of music that was really taking off as of late with groups like Nine Inch Nails, The Cure, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Skinny Puppy and so on. Kids would dress in black clothes that either had a feel of the Romantic period with long flowing skirts and corsets or they would look more industrial; think leather or ripped jeans with black shirts and combat boots.

I myself found I loved this music and the majority of the people who hung out in these clubs as well; which was good considering my prey seemed to flock here as well. It made perfect sense. Many of the kids in this scene were gamers who were into “Werewolf the Apocalypse” or “Vampire the Masquerade”—live action role playing games. There is no better place for a vampire to hide than with those who try to pose as them. Thing is, I know the difference.

Simply put, it’s in the way they move. As much as vampires try to blend in with human’s they don’t. Don’t get me wrong, to the untrained eye they could stand next to you or even talk to you and you’d never know the difference. But I was not untrained, though many would wish I was.

Their walk was smoother; their actions were more deliberate as if controlled. This was because they had to concentrate on all they did so as to move at a human speed. Not that it took a lot of concentration for those who’d been doing it for years—but I still could tell. That and they tended to drink the same thing; blood wine in a green or blue goblet. That made it almost too easy for me. It was much harder to locate one in a coffee shop, but in the club scene? As the saying goes, it was like taking candy from a baby.

I decided it was time to get closer to my prey—a small guy with slicked back, black hair who’d I’d been following for a week. I’d witnessed him killing a few girls after a part in an alley the other night on the lower east side. New York City wasn’t the safest place in the late 80’s and this guy was definitely one of the offenders.

Downing the rest of my beer I slipped my hand to my back where I made sure my wooden stake was securely wedged between the waistband of my jeans and the small of my back. To be honest, I had one in each combat boot as well but once I was sure my primary weapon was safe and secure I stood up and pulled my black leather biker jacket on over my black Cure concert T-shirt. I’d not seen them perform but I now dressed to blend. I took this from the home of the last vampire I’d killed. He didn’t need it anymore so was it really considered stealing? I liked to think not.

I weaved in and out of people as I approached where he was—hitting on a human female. Not wanting to see her face on the news tomorrow I eavesdropped, waiting. He just needed to make one error—be careless—and he was mine. I felt the adrenaline start to pump through my veins making me jittery and excited. The kill always did this to me.

It didn’t take long for me to hear it. He asked her if she’d like to step outside for a smoke. I heard her giggle and say yes. Dear ladies, you can smoke inside here in good ol’ NYC. If a man asks you to step into a lonely alley to smoke…maybe it’s just me, but I think that would be the equivalent of a Times Square neon sign that spells “trouble”. But hey, that’s me.

I pulled out my pack of smokes and headed for the front door of the club. I kept my head down so the bouncer wouldn’t notice me, and he didn’t. Didn’t even look up from the girl he was hitting on.

I lit my cigarette and waited. They didn’t take long. Once outside he didn’t even glance at me; careless fool. He lit a cigarette and then, when he pretended to have trouble lighting it due to “the wind” he motioned for her to step around the corner of the building with him. So typical. This dude needed to get a new playbook. Well, he wouldn’t be around long enough to do so. Oh well. Let me dry a tear for him…oh wait, I don’t have one.

As he and the girl slipped around the corner I was sure to walk heavily to the bar door, open it, and let it shut. Then, silently I moved to the corner to see what was going on. I pulled out a small pocket mirror and used it to see around the corner and I could see him—which was strange. Sometimes I could but most of the time I couldn’t see their reflection. I was unclear as to the reason for this anomaly but to be honest; I’d not cared enough to ask around.

I stayed still—watching him smoke as he chatted the girl up. I waited. I knew the procedure now...I’d don’t this enough. As he finished his smoke and crushed it on the ground with his foot he pulled her close and kissed her. As he kissed her he moved her backwards, until her back was pressed against the other building.

Reaching behind me I silently pulled out the stake…we were almost at ‘go time’. You had to wait until he hurt her, as sick as that sounds. One time I didn’t wait. Just the once. For some reason I always have to learn the hard way. The girl had screamed and not because the guy had turned to dust in front of her, fangs exposed, but because I’d killed him. She reported me to the police and everything. But—no body equals no real reason to book me on murder. Hell, the vamp had been so old plus the girl hadn’t been smart enough to get his last name so there wasn’t even a missing person that matched her description of the “sweet, murdered young man”. Sweet my ass.

Anyhoo, got lucky. Lesson learned. Wait until they scream in fear or until I see the vamp bite their prey. And trust me, each victim reacted differently…and never in the way I would’ve pegged them for.

This one was a screamer. Excellent! I like a good “cue”.

I moved quickly into the narrow alley and before my prey could turn from drinking his, I shoved the stake through the left side of his back, piercing his heart, and reducing him to dust. Then, all I was facing was a pretty blond girl with puncture wounds on her neck, tears in her eyes, and paralyzed fear in her face as her open mouth, now silent, mimicked the scream that had been coming from it.

Girls, I have found, have three reactions at this point. A. They run. B. They cry and fall into my arms. C. They pass out. Men only have only two reactions. A. They run/walk away. B. They cry like a child and hit the ground. This lovely lady was female option B.

“Thank you thank you,” she muttered into my chest over and over again as the tears caused her mascara to smear down her face and onto my shirt. And you wonder why I wear black shirts.

“It’s okay. You’re safe. I want you to go home, okay?”

She numbly nodded.

“Come on, I’ll hail you a cab. Is anything of yours in the club?”

She held her bag that was clutched tightly in her hand towards me, “No.”

I gently put my arm around her and led her to Avenue A and lifted my arm to hail a cab. It took a few moments and one pulled over. As she slid into the back seat I asked her if she would be all right.

She nodded again. Shock—it is hell on your vocal chords sometimes.

“Be more careful. If he’s colder to the touch than you think is normal don’t be alone with him. You got that?”

She nodded, fear and shock plainly painted on her features. I shut the door and the taxi sped off as I lit another cigarette, my reward for a job well done. I sauntered back over to the front door of the club, the adrenaline of the kill still making me feel like I was on a runner’s high, and took my original position by the door. Another girl stepped out about half way through my smoke and looked this way and that.

“You lookin’ for someone?” I asked her, though it was apparent she was. I hoped it wasn’t the guy. This girl looked a bit pale and for a brief second I considered he had a partner but then I saw her bite her lip and how it got redder with the tight pressure of her teeth on human skin and I relaxed.

The pale girl turned to me and said, “My friend, Emily, came out here with some guy…”

“Blond hair? Rather short?”

“Emily is, yes.”

“She just got in a cab and left.”

“What?!”

“I heard her having trouble with some guy in the alley and then she got into a cab and left.” It was basically the truth—so I skipped a step, whatever.

Emily’s friend leaned around the corner and looked around and of course saw nothing. “Did he leave to?”

I inhaled on my cigarette and grinned. “Oh yeah. He’s outta here.”

“Well hell, if she didn’t want him he coulda come back in for one of us.”

I almost choked on the smoke I’d inhaled.

“He wasn’t a guy you should be hangin’ with, trust me.”

“He was hot, that’s all I know. Okay. Well, thanks.”

I nodded my “your welcome” nod at the stupid girl and she went back into the club. Stamping out my cigarette I decided to follow her in. It was time to pick my new target—and no better time than the present. I looked at my watch; it was almost one in the morning. I still could get lucky—find another vamp to dust tonight...work a “double shift” as I liked to call it.

Heading up to the bar I began to let my eyes scan across the pale faces of the club. Who was just that much paler? Who moved just that much more smoothly? Who was holding a green goblet? Who stood out?

I ordered a beer and sat on a bar stool, my back against the bar, and looked around. No one stood out to me yet. My beer was delivered and I paid the bartender and went back to my people watching. Subtleties are hard to see sometimes. Hell, the guy I’d just dusted in the alley took me a week to find.

After about fifteen minutes I thought I’d found my next victim—a woman. She had spiky dark hair with the tips tinted pink. She wasn’t as pale as the rest but she moved with fluidity that humans just don’t have. I sipped my beer and I watched her intently. In fact, I was so engrossed in studying her that I didn’t notice someone sit down next to me. So when she spoke to me I about choked on my beer. I know, classy huh?

“She’s not your type,” the woman said smoothly.

I turned to look at the woman next to me. She was pale but her cheeks were flush so either she was a vamp who’d just eaten or human. She didn’t smell like the usual vamps I killed so I hoped this pretty lady was human. And I do mean pretty. Tall and elegant with long blond hair and blue eyes like the ocean water after a storm. Yeah yeah, I know that sounds cliché but it was the truth. She was quite stunning and had a sultry yet powerful voice to go with it.

After I choked on my beer I said, “Excuse me?”

She nodded towards the girl with the pink tipped hair. “She’s not your type.”

I couldn’t help that the corner of my mouth turned up in a sly grin. “Oh? You know my type…woman who’s talked to me for all of two seconds.”

She gave me a broad smile and turned away, looking at my chosen prey. “I do. I’ve seen you around. She’s not what you’re looking for.”

Maybe it was the words or possibly her tone but that sentence gave me pause. Did she know the real reason I was here? Did she know what I was, what I was looking for? I had to work to keep my grin in place.

“I think she’s totally my type,” I finally said and sipped my beer again.

Again the lady shook her head. “You can do better…a man like you.”

A man like me? What was that suppose to mean? Did she find me attractive? Was she hitting on me? That would be a first. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not unattractive but I’m sooo not the tall, dark and handsome guy girls swoon over. To be honest, I’m a bit on the short side at about five foot eight—nine with shoes on, with a head of dark haphazard, large curls that hung in my eyes most of the time while the back was clipped short. I was well built but you wouldn’t know that from looking at me with clothes on.

To the average person looking at me I’d seem like a small, slender guy with unkempt hair, a propensity to be a few days late on shaving my face, with unusual honey hazel eyes. Pair that up with my dangerous and “loner” vibe and most women steered clear of me. Which honestly made me chuckle, when you consider they approached a blood sucking, killing vampire happily without batting an eyelash.

After a moment’s pause I said to her, “And what is that suppose to mean?”

“What I mean is, with your background you can pick more wisely,” she turned to me, her face a bit more serious as her eyes met mine, “She’s not what you’re looking for.”

At this I laughed. How could I not? This random woman acting like she knows me. “Lady, I don’t think you have the first clue what I’m looking for so if you don’t mind—thanks for the advice but I can take it from here. I’m a grown boy.” I then toasted her with my beer bottle to make my point and took a drink.

“Uh huh. Okay. If you say so.” She got off the stool and just as I thought she was going to slink away into the crowd she did the opposite. She gracefully slipped right up next to me and leaned into my ear and whispered, “I know who you are…what you do. She’s not one of them, take my word for it. Leave her alone.” She backed away from me, her eyes stern and powerful as they met mine, making it hard for me to swallow the sip of beer I’d started to take as she’d faked leaving.

Once I finally swallowed my drink I whispered in a deep tone to her saying, “Ma’am, you have no idea who I am so I suggest you back off.” I was trying to sound scary even if I was the one that was scared.

A tiny smile touched her beautiful face—so flawless yet flushed with color, her teeth perfect and her eyes gleaming. “Oh really? So tell me, man I don’t know, in what instance is it that three walk out of a bar and only one walks back in?”

“What?” Now I was in a panic, but I couldn’t let that show. “I stepped out for a cig.”

“So did they.”

“She left in a cab.”

“I’m sure she did.”

“What are you insinuating?”

“Nothing. I’m just here to warn you that you’re starting to make a name for yourself and that you need to be careful—need to make sure you don’t kill the good ones, or your fate will match theirs, I can promise you that.”

“Good ones? What the—”

“Remember that, Mr. Cameron.”

And with that she turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving me stunned with my mouth gapping open and my beer forgotten.

© Copyright Tamsin Silver 2011