Worlds Apart (Worlds Apart Vampire Romance, Book One)

While those discussions transpired at the house, other discussions were taking place in the park. Police lights illuminated the parking lot in the distance and flashlights shined their beams along the path near where Peter found his fellow student. The young man had been rushed away on a stretcher fifteen minutes before, and Peter sat on a nearby bench with an officer standing over him.

  The officer tapped the eraser of his pencil against his notepad. "So let me see if I have your story straight. You were walking alone in the middle of the night without a flashlight or car and stumbled on the victim."

  Peter nodded. "Yep, that's what happened."

  "You heard nothing and saw no one?" the officer asked him.

  "Not a thing."

  The officer raised an eyebrow. "What made you take a walk at this late an hour?"

  "I have a fear of pillows, so I don't sleep very well and take walks out here," Peter explained.

  "I see." The officer scribbled a few things on his pad. He paused as his nostrils flared.

  Sweat broke out of Peter's forehead. He still smelled like alcohol and he had trouble not shivering in the cold night.

  The officer glanced up and scrutinized Peter's face. "There was a party near here an hour or so ago, and we're still searching for all the participants. Some of them might have ran into these woods. You don't happen to know anything about it, do you?"

  Peter nervously smiled and shook his head. "Not a thing."

  The officer sighed and closed his notepad. Peter felt like sighing, too. "All right, that's all I have for now, but don't go anywhere for a few days. We might need to ask you more questions," he warned Peter.

  Peter turned away and his eyes fell on the spot where he'd found the poor guy. When he next spoke his voice was softer and quieter. "Is the guy going to be okay?"

  The officer shrugged. "It's too early to tell, but the paramedics didn't seem too worried about him. He was really weak, but not dead." The officer lifted his cap and scratched his forehead. "It does beat all with those two marks and his pale skin, though. Almost like a vampire got him."

  Peter nervously laughed. "Yeah, right, a vampire. They don't exist."

  The officer dropped his arm and shrugged. "I've seen some pretty strange things in this city, things you wouldn't believe. Vampires might be one of them."

  Peter stepped to the side and nodded. "Yeah, well, if you don't need me anymore then I'll just be going."

  "Nothing tonight, but take my advice and keep away from the park until we get this attack solved," officer advised him.

  He gave the officer a weak salute. "Sure thing, officer."

  Peter hurried from the scene and jammed his hands into his jeans pockets. His eyes were on the path beneath him, but his mind was on the girl he was leaving behind and those bite marks on the victim's throat. It didn't take an engineering major to suspect they were connected. He couldn't believe she would harm anybody, but the more he recalled the father the more he wondered if he wasn't a bloodthirsty fiend intent on wrecking his life. Maybe the old man figured out he was a human and wanted to pin a murder on him, and the victim hadn't cooperated with the plan by surviving. Or maybe the guy had fallen on some pointy sticks and cut his neck. Or maybe he'd shaved that morning and nicked himself, and the wounds opened up and bled so bad it caused him to lose consciousness and fall into the bushes.

  "Or maybe I have no idea what I'm talking about. . ." he muttered.

  Peter arrived at his rented home fifteen minutes later. His college abode was a two-floor clapboard house close enough to the park to get a good view of the canopy. The place had all the amenities. There was an ancient washer and dryer, two bedrooms, a patched roof that leaked into the drafty attic, and a backyard fence that leaned into the yard and provided no privacy from the neighbors. The house was built in one of the older neighborhoods when all the houses were made to look exactly alike and everyone had a job and a car. Most of the houses still had families, but the others were rented out to the university students. The block was prime real estate for them as it was only two blocks down from the campus.

  The kitchen door was behind the fence gate, and was the main entrance since it afforded a quick route to the alley. The alley led down to the end of the block and a quick right had you nearly halfway to the campus. Peter strode through the gate and into the kitchen. He was only mildly surprised to see a jean-clad butt sticking out of the fridge. Peter slammed the kitchen door shut and the person staggered back from the fridge door. It was Rich, and his droopy eyes told Peter that he was still mostly intoxicated instead of completely slammed. In his hand was a large blueberry muffin.

  "Where ya been, Pete? You missed a great party," Rich told him.

  Peter shook his head. "I'm pretty sure I'm going to remember more of it than you, but where's Val?"

  Rich held up the muffin and shrugged. "She said she didn't want me to go to bed with her until-hiccup-until my blood alcohol level was legal. Said I was clingy or something, so I'm down here doing-um-" he glanced around himself, "-stuff."

  "You mean eating?" Peter guessed.

  Rich raised the muffin and stared blankly at it. "Yeah, that's it. Eating a muffin."

  Peter strode past his inebriated friend and seated himself at the kitchen table. The intoxicated young man pulled out a chair opposite Peter and nearly missed his butt into the seat, but he managed to teeter on the edge. His complete collapse happened when he adjusted his rear. He toppled backward onto the floor.

  Peter leaned to one side to look around the table. His friend still sat in the chair on his back. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

  "Need some help?" Peter asked him.

  Rich shook his head. "No, I got this." He rocked to and fro for a few moments before he groaned and stopped. "Maybe just a little."

  Peter sighed and stood. He dragged another chair over to his friend and hefted Rich onto his feet. "Next time-wheeze-remember that that chair has a short leg." He dropped Rich into the new chair and slid the other one to the far side of the table. "And loose some weight while you're at it," he added as he resumed his seat.

  Rich took a bite out of the muffin and when he spoke crumbs spilled onto his chin. "Whadda I need to lose weight for? I already got a girl. Anyway, what you been doing?"

  Peter ran a hand through his hair. "Chasing a girl through the park and finding her dad hates me because I'm human."

  Rich frowned. "Ouch. So no getting past first base?"

  Peter shrugged. "I wasn't really going for her for that, I just wanted to meet her."

  Rich snorted and refueled his sputtering muffin mouth. "Yeah, and I'm drunk."

  Peter dropped his hand and stared at his friend. "Rich, you are drunk."

  "I take offense at that. There's still some blood in my alcohol stream," his friend argued. The end of Rich's sentence was punctuated by a hard knock as his face slammed into the kitchen table.

  Peter leaned over and, after making sure his friend was only unconscious and not dead, he grabbed the muffin from Rich's hand. He leaned back, took a bite out of the muffin, and glanced out the window. The sun was just rising in the east. It reminded him he needed to get some sleep. He had classes that day, and he'd need all the afternoon sleep he could get to make the appointment with the beautiful vampiress.

  CHAPTER 7