Page 2 of The Midnight Order (The Thorngray Vampires Duet #1)

Silver

My mug warms my fingers as I step out onto the porch. My breath fans out before me through the brisk morning air, and the only sound surrounding me is the breeze through the fall trees that are smattered with an array of orange and brown.

The morning has been calm so far. I took my time getting up, something I’d never do back at home, and I’m now on my second cup of coffee, something I’d never have time for back at home.

There’s a worn and weathered porch swing to my left, and since I’ve had such a good morning and I’m feeling adventurous in this new life of mine, I turn and pad over to it.

Suddenly, my day changes as my foot goes out from under me and busts through the porch.

I try to yank it out of the new hole I’ve created, but can’t get it loose.

I can’t help it; I laugh.

My laugh carries farther than it would’ve in the city, bouncing off trees and alerting the wildlife living beyond that the dumb city girl with big dreams of curing her burnout has arrived.

“Get out of there!” I growl, yanking my foot upward one more time, this time with all the force I can muster.

It finally pops loose, and my coffee jostles in my cup and splashes all over the porch.

Scoffing, I look at the alluring porch swing, now seeing it more like a trap rather than somewhere I could relax.

Deciding not to tempt fate or Murphy’s Law any further, I head back inside, covered in coffee and with a few more scratches than I went outside with.

When I get back inside, my phone rings and I pause before running to grab it.

The damn thing hasn’t worked once since I got here.

“Hello?!” I answer breathlessly.

Nothing.

“Hello?!” I shout as if that’ll make whoever’s on the other end hear me better.

“Argh!” I slam the phone down and head for the shower, hoping that’ll make me feel better before I go into town and figure out how the hell everyone around here communicates with the outside world.

However, the way the town seemed yesterday makes me suspicious that they don’t. Blackmoore gives the distinct illusion that you’re in another world entirely.

Either that, or I’m disillusioned by the city and don’t know how the rest of the world lives.

Once I’m in the shower, I assess that it doesn’t, in fact, work. There’s water, but it’s ice cold and smells god awful.

I shower as quickly as I ever have and rush through getting dressed and blow-drying my hair, taking extra time to use the blow dryer as a makeshift heater, blowing it beneath my sweater and over my legs.

Once I’m in the Tahoe, with the heat going and my nerves nearly shot before noon, I take a deep, cleansing breath and then head down the drive toward I-10.

I don’t know how anyone can live here, but I have to remind myself that I’m moving into a home my great aunt couldn’t care for in her final days, which is why there are issues.

There are bound to be bumps in the road; I only have to account for them. I have to give myself and this rickety house some grace.

The problem is, I’ve never been good at working under pressure without a good night’s sleep and a warm shower.

My temples throb as I throw myself a pity party before pulling into the coffee shop I stopped at yesterday.

The same woman is operating the counter; this time, it seems the entire town is here, though there’s no wait.

I sidle up to the register and order myself another pumpkin cheesecake latte, taking care to look at her name tag this time.

“You moved into the old Dormund place, right?” she asks me.

“Yes, Karen. I did.” I smile, and she momentarily looks down at her name tag before smiling back up at me.

“Shame, what happened to Old Lady Dormund. Just an absolute shame.” She’s shaking her head as she steams the milk for my latte.

My brows crease at the idea that something untoward happened to my aunt when the lawyer told me she passed away from old age and a failing heart.

“I told her not to buy that place when she stopped through town and said she was here to see it. Told her it was too close to them…” She trails off, looking up as if she’s said more than she should, before shaking the look away quickly.

“Anyhow, what’s done is done. We’re all sorry for your loss, Hun,” she finishes.

“Too close to who?” I prod as she puts the lid on my latte, her eyes seeming to travel far off.

I follow her line of sight out the window, finding nothing worth staring at before turning back.

Shockingly, she’s in front of me when she was feet away a second ago.

I gasp, and she cocks her head at me awkwardly. “You alright, Hun? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I-I’m fine,” I stammer. “Just need this coffee, is all.”

She laughs, and it sends a chill down my bones. “You’re jumpy; maybe you don’t need any coffee. I’ll take your business, though. Don’t get much these days.”

I look around at the shop that doesn’t have an empty seat, confused by her words.

“Hey, Karen?” I ask, following around the counter, where she stops near the pastry case on display.

“Hm?”

“What happened to my aunt, exactly?” I ask her.

Her eyes look haunted as she stares at me with rapt attention. “Hun, those are the questions you don’t want to be asking around here. Being that you’re an outsider and all.”

Her advice causes my insides to twist into a knot, and I swallow, even when my mouth is as dry as sandpaper.

“Have a good day, now! Come back and see me.” She smiles cheerfully, and I fight a shiver at the sight.

What the fuck is wrong with this town?

The Radio hut is on the corner of Main street, and I push inside with my coffee, perusing until an older gentleman finally comes out of the back and spots me.

“Anything I can help you with?” he asks.

This time, I spy his name tag straight away. The strangeness of this town and the mounting questions about what happened to my aunt have me on high alert.

“Well, yes, Ed. You can. I’m staying at the Dormund place, and I can’t get a signal on my cell phone at all,” I start.

He smirks. “You wouldn’t. Cell coverage doesn’t reach.”

I clear my throat, trying to be as kind as possible in this new place where I’m an outsider, living amongst people I don’t know or trust.

Funny, I never felt this unsteady in the city.

“I’m wondering how in the hell I’m going to make phone calls,” I finish.

His face is kind, and he doesn’t give off a creepy vibe like Karen, but there’s just something…

“You’ll need to hook a home phone to the line old lady Dormund had set up. I suspect it’ll still be active. Our phones here are attached to the electricity, and her electricity’s still running.”

That has my heart in overdrive.

How does he know I kept the electricity on?

I swallow, trying to keep my cool. “Yeah, it’s still on. I don’t know if she has a phone, though. I haven’t heard one ring.”

He laughs, bending over to slap his knee before straightening again. “Well, why would you? She’s dead. Who’d be calling her?”

My heart hasn’t stopped racing since I drove into this town, and every interaction I have feels so contrived that I don’t think it ever will.

He seems to notice my demeanor and clears his throat.

“Sorry. That was insensitive of me. My wife would have my… Well, I’m sorry.

We’ll leave it at that. What we can do is I’ll sell you a new phone.

Most phones in Blackmoore are mounted in the living space, typically in the living room or kitchen.

If you find it, and it has a working phone attached, bring the new one back for a full refund. ”

I plaster on my best fake smile as my latte sours on my stomach.

Ed rings me up for a red, corded house phone for the price of ten dollars and some change, the cheapest phone I’ve ever seen. Then I’m back in Tahoe, looking around with investigative eyes at the town.

People are walking every which way. Twinkly lights braid from one building to the next, and fall decorations litter light poles and storefronts. Everyone seems nice enough, normal, even, but there’s this underlying current I can’t help but focus on here.

I don’t know what it is or why I’m so homed in on it, but I can’t let it go.

Karen walks out of the coffee shop in front of my Tahoe, looking around before she hurries down the street and pushes inside the Radio Hut.

I back out of my spot, following down the street slowly to see if I can glimpse what she’s doing, but once I get in front of the electronics store, Ed is drawing the blinds closed, his shifty eyes giving away that he’s up to no good.

If it were just one interaction, that would be one thing.

Something is wrong in this town, and I know Dr. Greer told me not to fixate, but this might be my next obsession.

I’m going to find out what’s wrong in this town and what happened to my aunt.

She was technically the last family I had left; I owe it to her. Not that I have any memories to confirm that, but that’s another story.

Once I’m back home, I check each living space until I find a red phone, much like the one in my hand, mounted on the wall by the back door. There’s a notepad hanging below it, and a stool sits off to the right as if this is where Aunt Soliel took all her phone calls.

I sit on the stool, thinking of all the times I couldn’t be bothered to speak to her. I’d usually screen her call and let it ring to voicemail. The times I picked up, accidentally, I would rush her off, lying and saying I had too much work or was too busy to entertain her.

My life was fast, and slowing down meant death. Or so I thought.

Now that I’m slowed to a crawl, however, I find that this life might have its perks.

There’s usually an undercurrent of latent anxiety harrowing through me, knotted in my chest and ready to strike at a moment’s notice if it senses weakness.

Currently, it’s absent.

I don’t know if that’s because I’ve slowed down or I’m focusing my brainpower elsewhere, but I’m thankful for the reprieve.

I use the house phone to check my messages, find none from work, and settle even more. The only calls I missed were from the contractors I had called to inspect the place on the way here.

Judging by my foot-sized hole in the porch, that’s still necessary.

I call one man back, who sounded the least chipper. The ones that sound happy are the ones that’ll try to sell you water when it’s raining.

He agrees to come out tomorrow for an estimate but tells me he might have to bring in other companies for the job, which isn’t surprising given the amount of work that needs to be done.

It’s mid-afternoon when I get bored with boxing up Soliel’s things and decide to go for a run.

Part of me recalls Karen saying something about Aunt Soliel living too close to something or someone, but I shove the worry to the back of my head, deciding to use this time to clear my thoughts instead of giving them power.