Earth Angel (The Kamlyn Paige Novels) (7 page)

“I just wanted to start new, you know?” she
finished, looking at me and nodding.

I certainly knew what she meant. The only boy I’d
ever been with was Rob and he never laid a hand on me, but when I was depressed
there was no better cure than to relocate.

“Gee, how could anyone not want to be around you,
Alli?” Sari interrupted sarcastically as he leaned back and crossed his arms.

I looked at him with surprise. I’d never met
someone so forward with their thoughts and feelings before. It was like he had
no filter on his mouth. Alli just stared with her eyebrows raised in
exasperation before she ignored him and talked to me again. In the middle of
one of Alli’s sentences Sari got up, excusing himself to use the restroom. I
couldn’t see any reason why someone would hate Alli so much. When I asked her
about it all she said was that when she met Sari a week ago, he automatically
disliked her and didn’t try to hide the fact. There had to be a reasonable
explanation for why he felt so strongly, but Alli had no clue. Maybe he was
just an asshole, she suggested while shrugging her shoulders. After chatting
for another minute, she apologized for not asking me if I wanted something to
eat. I glanced over at the glass case holding an assortment of baked goods and
pastries, finally settling on my all time favorite treat.

“I’ll have a cinnamon roll and a coffee with cream,”
I responded as I heaved a big yawn.

Caffeine was going to be necessary. Alli bounced
off to retrieve my order as she hummed to herself. I yawned again, thinking I
must not have gotten enough sleep like I thought I had. I looked around at the
other people in the bakery and spaced off into the distance. It was easy to get
sucked into the slow pace when out in the country without a job to do.
Awakening me from my day dream, Alli set a large cup of steaming coffee in
front of me next to a giant cinnamon roll covered in gooey white melted icing.
She excused herself again to take out another batch of muffins from the oven in
the back. I happily welcomed my breakfast of caffeine and sugar, which was sure
to give me the energy boost I desperately needed.

As I sipped my coffee in silence, trying to perk
myself up again, I overheard two elderly women sitting at the table across from
mine. Normally, I didn’t eavesdrop on other people’s problems because I had
enough of my own, but it was hard not to hear them in the quiet, empty café.

“Linda was taken to the hospital this morning. They
say she’s in a coma,” the larger of the two women said. “Apparently, she went
to sleep last night and never woke up.”

Her gray haired friend put her hand over her mouth
in shock, but ended up yawning instead. She quickly hardened her face to show
she wasn’t bored with her friend’s news.

“I can’t believe it. That’s three nights in a row
someone has fallen into a coma. What is happening to the good people of this
town?”

I took another big gulp of my coffee as I thought
about what they had said. Had I inadvertently stumbled upon a job? It seemed
very unlikely that three people would go to the hospital in comas, one after
another like that by coincidence. I stared down at the small tile pattern on
the table as I thought about how to get to the bottom of this.

Sari made his way back to the table and sat down as
I contemplated. His luring smile snapped me back to reality.

“So, tell me about yourself,” he said to my horror.

Talking to people had always been complicated for
me, even before I started hunting. Unlike myself, though, I opened my mouth
before thinking about what to say and surprisingly I didn’t say anything embarrassing.
I talked for twenty minutes straight as I told him about where I was from, what
had happened to my parents, and about Cara. Telling people about my life had
never been one of my favorite things to do. The only interesting thing about me
was my job and I decided a long time ago it was best not to include that into
the conversations I had. I ended my story with a lie, explaining my need to
travel on my own around the country for a while. He stared at me with
admiration in his eyes before he complimented my boldness to do something alone
when most wouldn’t dare. Blushing, I stared down at my empty coffee mug and
changed the subject from me to him.

“Well, I just moved here from L.A. where I lived
for the last twenty-five years,” he began, smiling. “…my whole life,” he added,
as if it needed clarification.

“That explains the unusual name and fancy clothes,”
I joked, causing him to throw back his head in laughter.

I stared, enjoying the sight of his muscular
forearms as he pushed up his sleeves. Not wanting to get caught ogling, I
forced my glance back to his face.

“I got into some trouble though, so not more than
two weeks ago I decided to get out of the city and live a simple country life
for a while.”

He leaned back in his chair once more and folded
his arms. His perfect features and witty personality started to make more sense
to me. He grew up in the city of angels with all the movie stars. What didn’t
make sense was why he would want to waste his time trying to get to know me. He
was clearly out of my league. I closed my eyes for a second, feeling my jaw
fight its way open into another yawn. My lack of sleep must have caught up to
me again. Maybe Alli accidentally gave me decaf. I tipped my oversized mug back
to make sure I had gotten every last drop. I told Alli I would see her later at
the bar as I paid for my breakfast and said goodbye to a disappointed Sari. I
could feel his eyes watching me as I walked away and headed out the door.

“If you ever enter my mind, stay
there. You’ll live. Defend it off and fool them all.”

–Chevelle

Once back in the motel room, I called Cara and told
her about the conversation I had overheard.

“And I knew there was something off about this
place. It seems like no matter what time of day, everyone is always about to
pass out. Even
I
am yawning uncontrollably,” I finished, waiting for
Cara to jump in with her ideas about what could be happening in this town.

“So? people are tired? That’s not a case, Kamlyn.
That’s just life,” she responded.

I was shocked to hear she wasn’t jumping on board
with me like she normally did. I reminded her about the three people who had
fallen into comas in the last three days. That had to be a sign that something
was wrong here.

“Did you ask how old those people were? Because I’m
betting they were pretty old like the ladies talking about it.” I could picture
her rolling her eyes as she heaved a sigh into the phone. “Look, I know that
you’re going crazy wandering around without a job to do, but you can’t
interpret every little weird coincidence as something sinister.”

I considered what she said and wondered if she was
right. I hadn’t taken a break in a year and it would be understandable if I had
some trouble relaxing. I sat down at the table by the window and lowered my head
onto my arms.

“When I get word from Don with something for you to
check out, I’ll let you know,” she added with a slightly concerned undertone.

Don was a man in his late thirties that lived in
our hometown. I’d met him one day after I lost Danny and learned that he had
lost his wife and kid ten years earlier. We bonded quickly over your losses. At
first we thought this was the only thing we had in common, but after many days
spent reminiscing about our families he told me his wife and daughter had been killed
by a demon. He said he spent his time hunting the supernatural in search of the
one that took his family away. At first I didn’t believe him and thought he
might have gone crazy from his grief, but eventually he convinced me it was
true. Deep down I think I always knew he had been telling the truth. How could
I not after what happened to Danny? I just didn’t want to believe it, like most
people when they find out all the things that go bump in the night actually
exist.

Don taught me everything I know about hunting and
he calls Cara whenever he gets overloaded with jobs to do. Not only does he
have a reputation with past ‘clients’ but he also has a sort of sixth sense for
the abnormal. When he’s out on the road, he doesn’t use maps or GPS. He says he
is drawn to his jobs. He’d been doing it for so long it came second nature to
him. I used to wonder if I stuck with it long enough if I’d become as sensitive
to the paranormal as he was. Maybe that was happening to me now in Whitman. Why
else would I have come to this one road town?

“I don’t know, Cara, I just have a feeling…”

I raised my head from the table too quickly and
felt dizzy as the blood rushed back down my body.

“This was my one time to take a break and I drove
seventeen hours on no sleep to come to Nebraska. I feel like I’m here for a
reason, so can you just humor me please?” I pleaded.

She agreed to check out the situation before she
hung up. Still feeling drained from my trip to the café, I decided to take a
nap. Within minutes, my subconscious took me back to my old neighborhood.

*

I wrapped an oversized knitted sweater around my
shoulders and walked absent-mindedly around the neighborhood. It was the first
time I’d gone outside since Danny’s funeral more than a week ago. The sun was
shining down on my face, warming my cheeks with its brilliant rays, but inside
I was cold and broken, engrossed in my grief. Only after a few minutes of
walking, my eyes began to fill with tears. I leaned against a large oak tree
and slid down its trunk to sit on the soft grass. With my head resting on my
knees, I cried over my loss.

“Are you okay?” a concerned voice called from the
distance.

I lifted my head up slightly to see a middle-aged
man rocking back and forth on his front porch swing. I stood up quickly, feeling
embarrassed about my first public breakdown. People were going to think I was
crazy if I kept randomly crying all over the place. Overwhelming grief was only
tolerated for so long, and then people wanted you to put it away and move on.

“Sorry. I’m fine,” I said as I wiped the tears from
under my eyes.

The man patted the empty seat next to him,
signaling me to come join him. Under any other circumstances I would have said
I needed to go home, not wanting to talk to a complete stranger, but instead I
walked up the weather-beaten steps of his porch and sat down beside him.

“I’m Don,” he introduced himself while staring
ahead as the sun turned the sky into beautiful shades of pinks and oranges.

I looked up into his somber face as he turned to
look into my empty eyes. I saw the pain behind his meaningful stare and felt,
for the first time, that someone understood.

“I know what you’re going through,” he said as he
placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

*

When I woke up it was dark outside. I had slept an
entire day away. Groggy from what I now assumed was too much sleep, I rubbed my
eyes as my stomach let out a ferocious growl. I decided to go see Alli for some
dinner and conversation. This time I tried to dress down a little so I wouldn’t
be the obvious out-of-towner. I had on a plain gray t-shirt and my old tore up
jeans. Instead of wearing my cropped black leather jacket as I always did, I
wore a heavier army green bomber style jacket with wool on the inside.

Right when I walked through the door, I again
noticed that everyone in the place seemed dead except Alli, who was behind the
bar bobbing to the country music playing from the antique jukebox.

“Hey, girl! Come have a seat,” she hollered,
smiling as she hung the only four freshly cleaned wine glasses upside down from
a rack above the bar.

I sat down and laughed as I looked around at the
lethargic people staring into their food as if any minute their burgers were
going to start talking to them.

“I know. I try to bring a little life into this
place, but it never works,” Alli said as she laughed along with me.

She took my order for a chicken sandwich and beer,
and told me all about her day. As we talked and I drank, I heard my phone ring
inside my coat pocket. I excused myself for one minute and Alli bounced off to
check on her other customers.

“Okay, the only thing I found that can make people
as tired as you say they are or fall into comas that makes any sense to me is
something called a ‘Psychic Vampire’,” Cara said with a clearly unconvinced
tone.

“Look, Cara, I told you I just have a feeling so
please lose the attitude,” I barked back at her, my irritation rising up from
nowhere.

“Who do you think you are? Don?” she mocked as I
rolled my eyes, not the slightest bit amused.

“Maybe being around all this for so long makes some
people more susceptible than others,” I reasoned, in no mood to debate why I
felt the way I did.

“Alright, alright, calm down,” she giggled as she
continued to read me the information she had found. “It’s a fairly new term,
but the myth has been around for ages.”

My face scrunched up in distaste as I thought about
what Cara said it could be.

“A ‘Psychic Vampire’?” I asked after I took a large
gulp of my beer. “That just sounds so stupid. Can we call it something else?”

Without any argument, Cara seamlessly switched to
calling them drainers and told me their story.

“Apparently, they are people who are quite talented
in black magic,” she began as she skimmed through the article she had found on
similar accounts. “They suck the energy from people around them, but there are
more dangerous ones who are not satisfied on energy alone.”

I could hear the interest rising slightly in her
voice as she read on. She told me of the more experienced drainers who stole
the life-forces from unsuspecting victims while they slept. In doing so, the
drainers remained young and beautiful as long as they continued sucking out
people’s souls and devouring them. But it wasn’t easy to catch a person in the
act. They used out of body experiences to get into a person’s home, rendering
them virtually untouchable. The person is basically a ghost, able to move
around undetected. This raised an important question…How do you stop a drainer?
I couldn’t just kill a living human being, no matter how wrong it was what they
were doing. No cop in town would believe me if I told them the truth. I’d be
thrown in jail, or the nuthouse.