Authors: Scott Nicholson,J.R. Rain
THE VAMPIRE CLUB
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
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
OTHER BOOKS BY SCOTT NICHOLSON
The Red Church
Speed Dating with the Dead
The Skull Ring
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)
Bad Blood (with J.R. Rain and H.T. Night)
Murdermouth: Zombie Bits
The Skull Ring
OTHER BOOKS BY J.R. RAIN
The Lost Ark
The Body Departed
VAMPIRE FOR HIRE SERIES
THE JIM KNIGHTHORSE SERIES
The Mummy Case
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
Merlin (coming soon)
WITH SCOTT NICHOLSON
The Vampire Club
WITH PIERS ANTHONY
Aladdin Sins Bad
WITH SCOTT NICHOLSON AND H.T. NIGHT
The Bleeder and Other Stories
Teeth and Other Stories
Vampire Nights and Other Stories
Vampire Blues: Four Stories
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 [email protected]
All rights reserved.
eBook Edition, License Notes
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To vampire lovers everywhere.
The Vampire Club
I can walk like a man but I’m not one.”
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Buffy Summers: “Slayee.”
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
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.
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
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 feelings, 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
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.