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The Vampire Jonah
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The Vampire Jonah
The Whitcombe Legacy: Triplet brothers were initiated into the vampiric life 125 years ago. Now they will either fulfill their family legacy and save the world from evil . . . or forfeit their chance to ever become human again.
Jonah Whitcombe enjoys a satisfying life in a remote Washington community. An accomplished musician, Jonah’s lifelong dream is to play the piano at Carnegie Hall. But fate has another thing in store for him . . .
When the earthquake in San Francisco interrupts Jonah’s blood substitute delivery, his supply is delivered by Angela Martin, the woman destined to be his lifelong mate. But before the two can plan a future together, all hell breaks loose.
Mount St. Helens is about to erupt, Angela is abducted, the vampire leader Zurik has been spotted in the area, and the ritual that will grant the brothers power to rid the world of the evil vampires forever must soon be held in New Orleans. On top of it all, Jonah learns his audition at Carnegie Hall is just days away.
Will Jonah be able to fulfill his family legacy, save the woman he loves, and fulfil his lifelong dream?
Only fate knows for sure . . .
Other Ann B. Morris Titles
from ImaJinn Books
The Whitcombe Legacy Series
The Vampire Julian
Book One
The Vampire Jerome
Book Two
Books by Ann B. Morris
writing as Caryn Carter
White Hot Weekends
The Vampire Jonah
Book three of The Whitcombe Legacy
by
Ann B. Morris
ImaJinn Books
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events or locations is entirely coincidental.
ImaJinn Books
PO BOX 300921
Memphis, TN 38130
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61194-655-0
Print ISBN: 978-1-61194-637-6
ImaJinn Books is an Imprint of BelleBooks, Inc.
Copyright © 2015 by Ann B. Morris
Published in the United States of America.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.
ImaJinn Books was founded by Linda Kichline.
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Cover design: Deborah Smith
Interior design: Hank Smith
Photo/Art credits:
Man (manipulated) © Viorel Sima | Dreamstime.com
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Dedication
To the late Linda Kichline, who asked me to write a vampire book . . . which turned into a trilogy.
Chapter One
December
En route from San Francisco to Washington State
CRATERS HAVE FORMED in the center of San Francisco and the remnants of buildings litter the streets.
Angela Martin turned up the volume on the car’s radio.
And reports are coming through, in the midst of all the chaos, of creatures that look nonhuman walking through the rubble.
The rest of the bulletin faded into the background, and her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. A recent conversation she’d had with her friend Dottie’s new love, Jerome Whitcombe, about an impending earthquake in San Francisco came to mind.
Jerome had expressed his fear that the deep-earth vampires, whose very existence depended on natural disasters, would prey on the population when the earthquake struck. Had his fear been realized? Were these vampires being led by Zurik, master of all the deep-earth vampires—the one who had abducted her friend Dottie during Hurricane Katrina?
Jerome knew everything about vampires. Until a few weeks ago, he had been a vampire himself. Except, unlike the malevolent vampires that now seemed a threat to the people of San Francisco, Jerome and his brothers, Julian and Jonah, had not needed human blood for decades. Instead, they survived on a drink called Double B made from Chemi-Plas, a synthetic plasma manufactured in New Orleans. Recently, however, Jerome and his older brother Julian had taken part in a special ritual that had restored their humanity, which meant they no longer needed even the plasma for survival.
Angela glanced at the dashboard. She’d put a lot of miles behind her, but there were still a lot left to go. Her thoughts drifting to the events of the past few months, she accelerated her speed.
It was hard to believe that, four months ago, her life and the lives of her two closest friends had been perfectly normal. Then Dottie, a private investigator, flew down to New Orleans to look for the missing daughter of a client. As she usually did when she had to work out of town, Dottie left her daughter, Casey, in Angela’s care. A few days later, their friend Simone, a lawyer who shared an office suite with them, found a free week in her work schedule and decided to join Dottie in New Orleans.
What happened next was unbelievable. Hurricane Katrina struck before Simone and Dottie could get together. And when the storm was over, Dottie was nowhere to be found. Refusing to leave before she made contact with her friend, Simone had extended her stay in New Orleans. It was during this time that she met Julian, the oldest of the Whitcombe triplets. Before long, she’d fallen in love with him.
It wasn’t until months later that Dottie was found. And by then, she was suffering from a form of narcolepsy that could not be treated in the ravaged medical community of New Orleans. So she was sent to San Francisco to stay with Jerome, the middle Whitcombe brother, where she could receive proper medical care. And as fate would have it, Dottie ended up falling for Jerome in the process.
Now, both of her friends lived in a different part of the country. Neither of them had come back to Mobile, where Angela still resided.
Up ahead, she spotted a fast-food drive-in on her side of the Interstate. It was just what she needed. A place to stretch her legs for a minute and get re-caffeinated. After ordering the largest cup of coffee on the menu, she parked at the rear of the drive-in and relaxed. After a couple of deep swallows of the strong brew, she let her thoughts drift again.
It was soon after she’d brought Casey back to Dottie that she’d learned about Jerome’s fear of an earthquake in San Francisco. What worried him even more than the looming disaster was that Jonah, the only brother still a vampire, was dangerously close to running out of the synthetic plasma he needed.
At dinner one night, Jerome had told her that the lab in New Orleans, where the plasma was manufactured, was temporarily offline, and he planned to send what he had left of his own stock to Jonah by air.
Moments later, Jerome received the dreaded call. The earthquake had struck. And all flights out of San Francisco had been cancelled.
According to Jerome, he had no recourse now but to drive the plasma to Washington State himself, and hoped that his Cadre would be able to handle the arrival of the malevolent vampires in San Francisco without him.
“But I thought you were no longer a vampire,” she’d asked, confused. How would he be of help if he stayed?
“You’re right—I am no longer a vampire,” he’d said, “but I still retain many of my former superhuman powers. And I’m st
ill the leader of the vampires in my Cadre.”
Jerome’s obvious conflict between the needs of his brother and that of his Cadre prompted her to offer her help. She would drive from San Francisco to Washington State and deliver the synthetic blood to Jonah, so that Jerome could stay and help his Cadre. When Jerome objected, saying it would delay her scheduled visit to her sister in Oklahoma, she’d waved away his objection. “I’ve never seen the Pacific Northwest. Now, I’ve got the perfect excuse.”
Dottie was next to voice an objection. “Don’t you have to be back in Mobile by mid-January? Adding this detour is going to make things kind of tight.”
But Angela had made up her mind. She was going to take the plasma to Jonah. Besides, what was an extra day or two? She was sure her sister wouldn’t mind.
And now, as she eased back onto the Interstate after her much-needed coffee break, she was even more determined to reach her destination. She scanned the radio stations for more news on the earthquake. She wasn’t disappointed, although the news that came through on the special report was anything but what she wanted to hear.
Reports have been received that tremors are being felt in the northern outskirts of San Francisco. As soon as more specific details are received, we will bring them to you.
Her hands once more gripped the wheel. The northern outskirts of San Francisco were where Jerome had moved Dottie and Casey so they would be safe from the impending earthquake.
After a quick glance in the rearview mirror, she pulled to the side of the Interstate, reached for her cell phone, and dialed Dottie’s home number. No answer. She tried Dottie’s cell phone. Same result. Her heartbeat picked up. She tried both numbers again. Forcing herself to stay calm, she waited for a safe opening and reentered traffic. She would try again later. Right now, all she could do was put as many miles behind her as possible and get that plasma to Jonah.
She drove until fatigue finally forced her to stop at the first motel she found. After several more frustrated attempts to reach Dottie, she crawled into bed and closed her eyes. But sleep didn’t come. Visions of the horrors the people of San Francisco must be enduring filled her mind. The suffering of families, the memories that would haunt the children, brought an ache to her chest. Finally, when her exhausted body and mind could take no more, she fell into a deep, but fitful sleep.
IT WAS NOON the following day before she finally reached Dottie. Their conversation was brief, barely long enough for her friend to assure her they were in no immediate danger. Telephone lines and cell towers in her area, however, were under severe usage, which made calls in and out of the area tenuous.
Relieved to have finally spoken with her friend, Angela continued on her way with as few stops as possible. As the sun was setting, she finally entered the county in Washington State where Jonah Whitcombe lived. The journey was complete.
Chapter Two
THE STREET LIGHTS came on just as Angela pulled into the long, winding driveway at the end of her destination. As she stepped out of her car, she was startled by the blare of a trumpet. But after that first moment of surprise, the music quickly transported her back to her early childhood, surrounding her with memories of her father. The blues tune became louder as she walked up to the door of the stately two-story house and rang the bell. Seconds later, a thirty-something man with a broad smile opened the door.
“I’m Angela Martin,” she said, returning the smile. “Are you Jonah?”
The man shook his head. “I’m Scott Springfield, Jonah’s business manager.” He glanced down at the Styrofoam cooler at her feet. “Is that the Chemi-Plas?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
Scott reached down, picked up the cooler with one hand, and with the other, waved her inside. “Come on in. It will only take a moment for me to let Jonah know you’re here. He wants to thank you personally for making this trip.”
The sound of the trumpet continued to fill the house while Scott led her down a short foyer to a room on their left. Whoever the musician was, he was good. Very good. And she was in a position to know. When her father had been alive, he had played the trumpet for several big name bands that toured the world.
As she waited, Angela surveyed her surroundings. A green velvet sofa flanked by occasional tables decorated with fringed shawls and porcelain ginger-jar lamps occupied the center of the room. For several long moments, she felt as though she’d been transported back to the Victorian Era. She was imagining what the man who lived here looked like when her attention shifted to the farthest side of the room.
In the corner stood a Christmas tree, decorated with nine-teenth-century ornaments of slender glass icicles and silver cardboard flowers. And to the right of the tree, centered between velvet-draped windows, stood a grand piano. Smiling to herself, Angela wondered if the trumpet player also tickled the ivories.
She was deep into her musings when she felt a presence behind her. She turned in the direction of the doorway and stifled a gasp. The air around her became electrified and a chill crawled up her spine.
The man—no, the vampire—stepped deeper into the room. “I hope I didn’t startle you.”
Speechless, she shook her head. What could she say? That she wasn’t expecting him to be the most boyishly handsome man she’d ever seen? That he could have posed for the cover of GQ magazine?
If Jonah Whitcombe noticed her surprise, he didn’t show it. He gave her a quick once-over, settling his gaze on her wet shoes. “I’m sorry you arrived on one of our worst weather days.”
She looked down at her feet. She had come prepared for the rain with an umbrella but that had done nothing to keep her feet dry. “I’ll survive,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Would you like to change into a dry pair? I can have Scott go out to your car . . .”
She shook her head. “That isn’t necessary. My hotel isn’t that far away. I’ll be there in no time.”
Jonah checked the copper watch on his wrist. “I would very much like you to stay for dinner. Scott has already agreed to go for takeout.” The corner of Jonah’s mouth lifted in a boyish grin. “I’ll join you, of course. I feel the need for one of the famous Whitcombe cocktails.” He locked gazes with her. “You know what that is and why we drink it, don’t you?”
“Yes.” She knew it was a drink made with the synthetic plasma his brother Jerome had sent with her. And that it satisfied the vampire’s need for human blood. “Jerome told me it’s called a Double B.”
“Then you must know how grateful we both are that you were willing to go out of your way to deliver the Chemi-Plas. I’ve been told the lab in New Orleans will be back online soon. Hopefully, my regular supply will be here within the next two weeks.”
“I was glad to be of help. Jerome is needed in San Francisco.”
“Still, I appreciate you going out of your way. So, how about my offer of dinner? It would make me feel as if I’d repaid you in a very small way for your sacrifice.”
She paused a moment, although she already knew what her answer would be. “Thank you very much, but I’ve had a long day and I’m eager to get to the hotel. I’m looking forward to a good night’s rest.” She had decided to get up early tomorrow morning and spend a good part of the day sightseeing before she set off for Oklahoma.
“I know you must be tired, but I wish you would stay for just a little while. I promise I won’t keep you long. I haven’t seen my brother in quite some time and I’d be interested in hearing how he’s functioning as a human.”
Would it hurt if she stayed a few minutes longer? Hadn’t she told Jerome she was eager to find out what a real vampire was like? She gave Jonah Whitcombe the once-over while she contemplated her decision.
He had the same eyes as Jerome—one blue and one gray. But what really caught her attention was his hair—red like hers, only lighter.
“So what do you say? Thirty minut
es? Fifteen?”
She couldn’t hold back the smile. “You’re tenacious.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Perhaps she should accept his hospitality. She hadn’t eaten since noon. And it was still early evening. “The offer of dinner is tempting.”
“Great. I’ll have Scott take your food order. But before that, I insist you let him get you a dry pair of shoes.”
She looked down again at her feet as she fought the sudden chill racing through her body. “I have a red and black plaid bag in the trunk of the car. My shoes are in there,” she said, relenting. She dug in her purse for the car keys and handed them to Jonah.
When Jonah left to find his manager, she looked around her surroundings once again. Aside from the Victorian furnishings, the room was larger than any she had seen in Mobile. But more than the size of the room, what captured her imagination was the feeling once again that she’d stepped back into a century long past. A shiver snaked up her spine.As she worked through her fear, Scott came in with her luggage. After asking her to choose from the menu of a local restaurant, he made a quick phone call then left to pick up the food. He was no sooner out of the room when Jonah returned. Realizing she was alone with her host, Angela felt the urge to flee. Was it because Jonah Whitcombe was a vampire? Forcing herself to remain calm, she reminded herself her two best friends had fallen in love with vampires. Neither of them had come to any harm. Nor would they ever knowingly put her in harm’s way.
She relaxed a bit. She was hungry. And what harm could there be in enjoying the company of the most beautiful man she’d ever set eyes on?
JONAH WAS VERY good at reading people and he could tell Angela was second-guessing her decision to stay longer. Knowing all too well the innate fear humans had of vampires, he knew he had to do something that would make her feel comfortable in his presence. Something a flesh-and-blood mortal might do. He glanced down at her feet. “There’s a guest bathroom down the hall where you could change your shoes and freshen up.”