The Immortal Touch Trilogy Complete Collection: Winter's Touch Fire and Ash Red Tide Rising Read online

  The Immortal Touch Trilogy

  Complete Collection

  By Allie Gail

  Includes:

  Winter’s Touch – Book One

  Fire and Ash – Book Two

  Red Tide Rising – Book Three

  ~*~*~*~*~*~

  Winter’s Touch

  Immortal Touch Trilogy – Book One

  By Allie Gail

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright March 2013 Allie Gail

  Cover Design by Laura Shinn

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any printed or electronic form without express written permission from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Though some of the cities and towns actually exist, they are used in a fictitious manner for purposes of this work. All characters are works of fiction and any characteristics similar to any person past, present or future are coincidental.

  ~*~*~

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  PROLOGUE

  The vampire taps his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the beat of All Around Me as he trails haltingly behind his prey at a safe distance.

  That’s got to be her. He’d recognize that fiery mane anywhere. Of course, he hasn’t seen her in - what has it been? - a decade or so, not since he left the small Nebraska suburb where she still resides.

  Correction. Where she formerly resided.

  Unbeknownst as yet to her, she is about to disappear forever. To be snatched in the night like a maiden who has strayed too far from the path, by the proverbial wolf in sheep’s clothing out of some dark fairy tale. And how long before she recognizes him as the hungry wolf? As the source of her recurring nightmares? Ah, but there will be time enough for her to discover her misfortune. She will have nothing but time to reflect on her carelessness from this night forward.

  Until she eventually succumbs to the fatal effects of massive blood loss, that is.

  The ominous clouds suddenly decide to unload their burden of rain, and he smirks as he watches her pause on the sidewalk and lift her face to the sky as if to say, why me? She thinks she is having a run of bad luck now. She’s seen nothing yet. Her night is about to get a whole lot worse.

  It’s time. He catches up to her, pulls the Jeep Grand Cherokee alongside the curb. She turns her head to see who it is that’s offering her a ride, and in that moment there is no remaining doubt in his mind that it’s her. He lowers the passenger window and the rain-soaked wind brings him the tantalizing scent of her blood.

  He leans closer and smiles.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The First Mistake

  Fremont, Nebraska - fifteen years earlier

  “Rio! Here kitty, kitty!”

  Eva Spencer released her grip on the swing set’s monkey bars, dropping with a plunk to the hard ground below. Traipsing after the small white kitten, she followed his route into the next-door neighbor’s back yard even though she knew full well she wasn’t supposed to leave her own yard. It was beyond her why Rio would sometimes just take off like that. Hopefully it had nothing to do with the frilly doll’s dress she’d tried to stuff him into a few days ago. He’d been pretty mad about that. Maybe it was just that he caught sight of a mouse or something. If that was the case, she sure hoped he didn’t catch it. She didn’t want to sleep with a cat that had dead mouse on its breath. It was already enough that he shed all over her blankets and Mommy was threatening to make him sleep in the laundry room.

  Other than a coiled water hose, the neighbor’s yard was basically empty. The grass had been recently cut so it should have been a cinch to spot the snowy fur since there was no place to hide. But the rambunctious Persian kitten had completely vanished from sight. There was no sign of him anywhere. How had he managed to slip away from her so quickly?

  “Kitty, kitty! Where’d you go?”

  The back door to the house was wide open, with only an unlatched screen door between her and whatever lay inside. Maybe Rio had pushed his way in. Well, probably not, but she could hear faint music coming from somewhere inside and that aroused her unwavering curiosity. It was music unlike any she’d ever heard before. Maybe nobody would notice if she snuck inside to see where it was coming from. As quietly as possible, she opened the screen door and tiptoed into the house.

  The foyer was a carbon copy of the one in her home, with shiny hardwood flooring that led into the main living area. She followed the sound into that room and any resemblance to her own house ended then and there. The furniture in this living room was all black leather and there were weird-looking paintings on the walls. An ordinary stereo was the source of the monophonic melody that lured her in like the pied piper. Aside from this commonplace piece of technology, the surroundings were dark and mysterious, unlike the bright and cheerful décor in her own home. It was fascinating, though. And Eva’s five-year-old mind was perpetually allured by anything remotely unorthodox. She pretended she was Gretel, entering the witch’s gingerbread cottage for the first time. Too bad Nathaniel from down the street wasn’t here to play with her. He could be Hansel.

  A rhythmic whacking sound came to her from another room and she tracked the noise to a large kitchen furnished with modern stainless steel appliances. There, standing at the counter chopping carrots and humming along to the Gregorian chant, was Mr. Winter. She’d seen him plenty of times before from a distance. He was easily recognizable by the straight blond hair that stopped just short of reaching his shoulders. Most grown men she knew didn’t have hair that long. Her daddy said he was probably a fruit, whatever that meant, but Mommy just laughed and said, he’s going to disappoint a lot of women if he is. Adults were always saying stuff that didn’t make any sense.

  The man looked up from the cutting board and raised an eyebrow. “Well. Hello there.” She thought he sounded sort of like those men on that boring PBS show her mother watched sometimes when Sesame Street wasn’t on. They were usually smoking pipes and saying goofy things like, I say, old chap!

  “Hello.” Eva climbed up on a kitchen chair and made herself comfortable. “What are you doing?”

  “Cooking dinner. And just what, may I ask, is it that you’re doing?” He looked as if he wanted to smile but couldn’t really decide if he should.

  “I was looking for my kitty. He ran off. I don’t know why. I didn’t do anything to him. Do you have any pets?”

  “No. I’m afraid not.”

  “I got Rio for my birthday. He sleeps with me. He’s my best friend, except for Mary Ellen who’s my best friend in kindergarten. She has a dog.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, but he poops on the floor sometimes so Mommy didn’t want a dog. We got a cat instead. Rio doesn’t poop on the floor. He’s smart.” She didn’t tell him the whole truth - that Mary Ellen’s dog was humongous and she didn’t like him much. When h
e barked it scared her.

  “You don’t say.”

  “What are you making?” Eva swung her legs back and forth. Her feet didn’t quite reach the floor.

  “Vegetable lo mein. Are you hungry?”

  “Kind of, but we’re having meatloaf again. I wish it was hamburgers and french fries. We’ll prob’ly have green beans and I hate those. Do you like green beans?”

  “Oh, I don’t mind them.”

  “I like french fries with ketchup best. What’s your favorite food?”

  This time the man did smile. He didn’t answer her question. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “Evangeline Spencer. But everyone calls me Eva. I call spell Eva, but not Evangeline. Mommy only calls me that when she’s mad anyway. I know who you are. You’re Mr. Winter. I heard Mommy and Daddy talking about you.”

  “Did you now? And what were they saying?”

  “I don’t remember. Something about real escapes.”

  He seemed puzzled. “Real...oh, you must mean real estate.”

  “Uh-huh. They were trying to guess how much you paid for your house. Was it a lot? Was it more than a hundred dollars?”

  “Just a bit.”

  “I get a dollar every time I clean my room, if I do it right. Not if I push my toys under the bed. They always check. I have to put everything right where it’s supposed to go.” This was another thing about adults that she didn’t get. You couldn’t see her toys if they were underneath the bed, so who cared if they were there instead of in her toy box? What difference did it make as long as they were out of sight?

  “Mm-hm.”

  “You can come see my dolls sometime. I have one from Sweden and one from...um, that place where people wear wood shoes and grow tulips, you know? And I have a bride doll with red hair like mine. And lots of Barbies. Except one of them is messed up ‘cause I cut her hair and got it too short so she looks funny. She’s kinda baldheaded now. I wasn’t supposed to use the scissors. I hid her in the closet so Mommy wouldn’t find out. Don’t tell her, okay?”

  “It’ll be our little secret.”

  “Now you have to tell me a secret.”

  “What?”

  “I told you one, so you have to tell me one.” She cocked her head and looked up at him expectantly.

  “Oh, I see.” He placed a red pepper on the cutting board and began slicing it. “All right then. Would you like a big secret, or just a little one?”

  “A big one!” Eva beamed exuberantly, delighted that he was playing along.

  “Yes, I thought you might. Well, my young friend, I’ll share a big secret with you.” His eyes watched hers. “Sometimes I kill people.”

  The happy smile faltered somewhat. “What’d you say?”

  “I kill people. I drink their blood, you see, and then I kill them.” He moved fluidly toward her, the stainless steel knife still in his hand. Standing directly in front of her, he tapped the sharp edge of the blade gently against his palm.

  Her green eyes widened. This was the most exciting thing she’d heard since Frankie Elliott told the class about his summer trip to Africa. “You do? Honest?”

  “Honest.”

  “How come?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “How come you eat people? You don’t like hamburgers?”

  He laughed at that. “Aren’t you afraid?”

  “Of what?”

  “Of me.”

  “No way. You’re my friend. Do you put ketchup on people when you eat them? Do you put them in the oven and cook them?” She was enthralled. Up until now the weirdest thing she’d ever seen anyone eat was an earthworm. Even then, the kid had thrown it up afterwards. So that really didn’t even count.

  “You really are an odd little thing.” The blond head shook back and forth. “I don’t eat people, Eva. I consume only their blood.”

  “Oh. Are you a vampire?” She’d seen those on the late show when she was supposed to be in bed. They had fangs and glowing red eyes. Mr. Winter didn’t have either.

  “As a matter of fact, I am.” He stared at her as if debating something in his mind, all the while still playing with the knife, twisting the point absently in his hand.

  “Can I watch you bite somebody?” She wondered if it would be like in the movies. Would he wear a black cape and bite people on the neck? How did he do it without long teeth? Maybe he was just teasing her. He didn’t look anything like Dracula.

  “And why would you want to do that?”

  “I dunno. Just to see.” She’d be willing to bet nobody in her class ever saw anything like that before.

  “You’re an inquisitive creature, aren’t you?”

  “What’s ink-widgative mean?”

  “It means you wish to know far more than you should.”

  She huffed, crossing her arms and giving him a stubborn look. “I bet you made all that up anyway! Didn’t you?”

  “Curiosity killed the cat, little one.”

  The cat! She’d forgotten all about Rio. “Oh! I have to go now. I have to find my kitty before he runs out in the street. Will you help me?” She slid out of the chair.

  “Of course I will.” He reached forward to gently cup her chin with his free hand. “Look at me for a minute, Eva dear.”

  She looked up at him. His eyes were very black and somehow they made her feel sleepy.

  “You won’t remember our conversation. You are to forget everything we just talked about. Do you understand?”

  “Okay.”

  “Good girl.” He released her.

  Eva blinked and looked around. She’d forgotten what it was she was supposed to be doing. Why had she come here? Oh, that’s right. For Rio.

  Mr. Winter twisted the blade into his palm, watching her. “Was there something else you wanted, sweetheart?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “Then why don’t we go and find your cat.” The knife slipped suddenly, slicing a shallow cut into his hand. “Damn it all.”

  She giggled. “You said a bad word.”

  “Well, tell you what. You can say a bad word and then we’ll be even.”

  “I can? And you won’t tell?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  Her eyes sparkled eagerly. She wasn’t allowed to say bad words, but found herself enthusiastically blurting, “Damn it all!” It was exciting.

  He laughed softly. “That was very good. I do believe you’re a natural.”

  She was pleased. Maybe at school on Monday she’d use that word in front of stupid Frankie Elliott. Then he wouldn’t think he was such a big deal. While she was contemplating this, she noticed the cut with its tiny drop of blood. “You have a boo-boo,” she informed him, and taking his hand in her small one she kissed it lightly just beside the nick. “There. Now it’s all better.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I do believe it is all better now. You see?” The minor cut had indeed already begun to close and was almost healed.

  Neither of them was aware of the miniscule smear of blood on her bottom lip that disappeared stealthily into the pink flesh, inconspicuous in the beginning as with any common virus, to become an uncommon but enduring part of her. And so it was, with this most innocent of childish gestures, that Evangeline Spencer’s fate was permanently and irrevocably sealed.

  ~*~*~

  Julian watched the red-haired child toddle away with the white kitten in her arms, marveling at her unique personality. She certainly wasn’t timid, that one. Her blood smelled nice and healthy, type AB-negative which was quite difficult to procure. Fortunately it wasn’t yet his time, as that particular type would present a tremendous temptation. And killing a child in his very own neighborhood would be a foolhardy thing to do. He kept a low profile by careful planning, not impulsive recklessness.

  If only he could be certain he wouldn’t infect her. He’d gladly help himself to some of her blood, then erase her memory. How easy his existence would be if it were that simple! But such an exclusive condition came wit
h no handbook, no survival instructions, only rumors and innuendo that proved, more often than not, to be fallible. It was because of this that he always killed his victims afterwards. He had no way to be sure of the outcome were he to permit one to live. So little was known about this strange malady, and he was less than willing to take unnecessary chances.

  It wasn’t as if it bothered him to kill. On the contrary, he found it quite entertaining. It appeared that his conscience had perished along with his mortal body that foggy morning fifteen years ago. His very soul, along with all the useless emotions that defined him as human, evaporated with his last breath. And when his lungs once again resumed their function, when his virginal vampire eyes opened to a world that would never be the same for him, none of those sentiments returned. He was an empty vessel. The heart resumed its steady beat but felt no love, no hatred, no compassion or remorse. Just a desperate and sustaining need for blood once a month. Why this was, he had no way of knowing.

  Perhaps his killer might have shed some light on the situation, had he lived long enough to do so. Standing over the hastily dug grave with shovel in hand, the fool barely had time for shock to register on his face before Julian gleefully snapped his neck. Of course, this was before the realization of just exactly what it was he’d become.

  Some sort of supernatural being, it would seem. But how, and why? The answer to this question could forever elude him. None of the events of that fateful day alluded to the inexplicable outcome. His murderer hadn’t bitten him, hadn’t attempted to drink his blood. He’d seemed a polite enough chap at first, merely asking for directions to Aviemore. Taking him completely by surprise, the man suddenly attacked Julian and thrust the blade of a long hunting knife into his chest. Stole his Rolex and the twenty-two pounds that were in the pocket of his track suit. Then tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to bury the evidence.

  Why he’d undergone this metamorphosis was a mystery that might never be explained. But then, life’s final mystery had been redefined in his eyes upon rebirth in a shallow grave, spadefuls of dirt raining down on the recently slain body that shrouded what was left of his soul.