After the Fall: A Vampire Chronicle (Book One) (5 page)

             
Except for the small funeral party, the cemetery was quiet. The Gallagher family plot was located towards the center of the cemetery, so that the busy traffic racing along the parkways that lined the perimeter of the place sounded appropriately far off and distant, as if coming from a dream. In the distance, on the other side of the river from where they were in Brooklyn, the mighty New York skyline rose into the sky.

             
Father Reed droned on, but Caroline was thinking about how cruel it was that this day had dawned sunny and bright, and still showed no signs of changing for the worse. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The meteorologists on the morning news had called it the most beautiful day this month. It made Caroline want to scream. She felt like God was looking down at her and just laughing and laughing at his practical joke. She didn’t pretend that an overcast day, or rain, or even Armageddon would have made her feel any better about burying all her loved ones, but at least the weather would have been in accordance with how she was feeling.

             
Finally, the service was over. The funeral party had been small - the people she was there to bury had been her only family, but a few of their friends from work and school had shown up to say their final good-byes. They all hugged Caroline, their eyes red and puffy from crying, and then went on their way, to continue their lives as normal. Caroline was the only one standing at the plot whose eyes were dry, and she was the only one whose existence had changed irrevocably forever. She thought maybe God was laughing about that as well.

             
Father Reed came up to her as well to express his deepest sympathies. Her parents had been the ones to occasionally go to church, not her, so she didn’t know him well, and Caroline felt bad that she couldn’t fully appreciate his efforts to comfort her, but in light of the fact that she had just a few days before found her entire family murdered, she didn’t feel that bad.

             
“If there’s anything I can do for you, Caroline, even if you just need someone to sit with, please call me,” he was saying.

             
“Thank you,” she answered politely but noncommittally.             

             
Caroline watched him leave. Still unable to bring herself to look at the caskets, she began to walk away, focusing instead on the New York City skyline, clear and unobscured. Closing her eyes, she could still see it perfectly. She pictured Central Park, full of skaters and joggers and horse-drawn carriages. Every Christmas she and her family went to dinner at Tavern on the Green, the restaurant inside Central Park. This year, her parents had agreed to wait till after Christmas, so that Caroline would be home to go with them. She’d have to buy a new outfit to wear. Maybe she’d bring Katie and Lauren with her.

             
If she pretended long enough, maybe it would be true. It was better to see her family in her head, though, then next to her, lying in wooden boxes, being prepared to go in the ground.

              Lorenzo Catalano and Christian Dreiden watched the young woman from their rental car. They were parked on the service road ten rows over, far enough away to be inconspicuous but close enough to still be able to see what was going on. They had sat there the entire service, leaving the funeral early to get to the cemetery before everyone else arrived. They had watched as the wizen, ancient priest had led the funeral party to the plot, his arm looped through the arm of a pretty young woman for support, although it wasn’t quite apparent who was supporting whom.

             
“That’s her,” Lorenzo had pointed to the young woman on the arm of the priest and Christian had asked, incredulously, “
She’s
the survivor?”

             
“Yes,” Lorenzo had answered without turning to the young man sitting in the driver’s seat next to him.

             
“Her name is Caroline Gallagher. She is eighteen years old and both her parents and both her sisters were killed in the attack.”

             
When Christian hadn’t answered, Lorenzo had turned to face him - he appeared to be in shock.

             
“You were expecting someone a bit different, maybe?” Lorenzo asked, trying to prompt Christian into voicing what he was thinking.

             
“I don’t know. A young child, maybe, or someone older.” He frowned. “Much older. Or maybe an invalid of some sort. Someone a vampire wouldn’t be as interested in, someone they could let get away on a whim. But she’s just their type.”

             
“Meaning?” Lorenzo asked, frowning, puzzled.

             
“Meaning, look at her. She’s young, she’s beautiful. Full of life. Brimming with the life force. She should have been the first to go.”

             
“You’re right,” Lorenzo mused, frowning even more. “She is in the prime of her life, which is the ideal victim. She’s a very lucky young woman.”

             
“I wouldn’t exactly say that,” Christian had answered as the graveside service began, and Lorenzo had followed his gaze to Caroline Gallagher and the four caskets sitting on the ground in front of her.

             
They watched as one by one those who had come to pay their final respects walked away, leaving Caroline Gallagher standing all alone, drowning in a sea of headstones.

             
Christian had been quiet for the majority of the service, and now Lorenzo turned to him, to see him staring intently, apparently at the girl, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. Lorenzo knew Christian well enough though, to know he was staring right through her, deep in his own thoughts.

             
“What are you thinking?” he asked, and Christian jumped in his seat, obviously startled by Lorenzo’s voice. He quickly relaxed, though, and his grip on the steering wheel loosened.

             
“I’m just thinking that I feel sorry for her.”

             
“She doesn’t need your sympathy, you know, Christian.”

             
“She’s all alone in the world now,” Christian continued, either ignoring Lorenzo or not hearing him.

             
“Well, we can’t fix that, but we can help to right the wrong that has been done her.”

             
“And what if she saw something, Lorenzo? What if she suspects or even knows about vampires? Because if she knows, she’s not safe. Even now, she’s probably not safe. If she saw them, they know about her. He knows about her, the Master Vampire.”

             
“One step at a time, Christian. First, it’s very unlikely she knows anything. Vampires rarely leave survivors. But we must find out what she knows.”

             
“Maybe you should be the one to do it. I mean, she’s already talked to you.”

             
“No. You were right, Christian. She’s all alone right now in the world. What she needs is a friend to talk to, someone she can relate to. You’re only a few years older than she is. She will feel more comfortable talking to you. You have a much better chance than I of finding out what she knows.”

             
“Now?”

             
“No. Later. You can approach her later, but remember, Christian, to be-”

             
“-discreet,” Christian finished Lorenzo’s thought. “I know.”

             
They sat there a few minutes longer before Christian started the engine. Still, he didn’t put the car into drive right away.

             
“I know it’s not my job to feel bad for her, Lorenzo,” he said without turning towards his mentor.

             
“I can’t help it, though. I know exactly what she’s going through and what she’s feeling.”

             
“This is why you are the ideal person to befriend her, Christian.”

             
He didn’t answer, but instead, shifted gears and with one last glance at Caroline Gallagher, drove away.

             
Christian watched as Caroline walked into a coffee shop on 6
th
Avenue, not far from Rockefeller Center. It was late afternoon, and the sun was starting to dip behind some of the taller skyscrapers. A sure sign that summer was winding down. He wondered what she was thinking. She had buried her family. She had no place to go that he knew of. He imagined that right now, she felt a lot like he did: alienated from the world.

             
Right now the most important thing was to find out what she knew of the circumstances surrounding the death of her family. That was Christian’s number one priority, but as he watched her go up to the counter and place her order, he couldn’t help but think that this girl was a human being, that there were more important things than guarding an ancient secret from discovery, such as being a friend to someone in need.

             
Christian didn’t have any friends, not counting Lorenzo, of course. His job didn’t allow it. He saw so much suffering and pain and violence and death that he couldn’t allow himself to get close to anyone. He, himself, drew danger like a magnet because of who he was, and he refused to place anyone he cared about in that situation by being around them. He had been forced by circumstances beyond his control to become hardened and self-reliant, till at times, he didn’t even feel human anymore.

             
And then there were times, like now. As he watched this young woman, he couldn’t help but care about her and what she was going through. His heart went out to her - he didn’t want to be cold and unfeeling, but could he afford not to be? He didn’t have the freedom other people did; he had to save the world. It was his duty, a God given one at that. He was so much more than himself. And so, if what his job required was for him to question this girl and nothing more, than so be it. He could best help her anyway by killing those who had killed her family. And still…he knew her pain, and he knew her loneliness. In that, they were already kindred spirits.

Caroline was sitting in her favorite coffee shop, drinking a cappuccino and trying to focus on anything but the loneliness that was already threatening to overwhelm her, when the guy approached her. He had come into the shop about ten minutes after she had, and while she chose a small table by the front of the café, he had taken a seat at the counter. She liked sitting at the tables that lined the front wall of the coffee shop and looking out the window at the crowds of people walking by. It didn’t matter the time of day or year; the café’s location was smack dab in the middle of Manhattan’s tourist heaven - St. Patrick’s, Rockefeller Center, Central Park and Times Square were all located a short walk from the coffee shop. Usually, she found people-watching to be relaxing, for whatever reason, but in light of recent events, she couldn’t help but wonder which of the thousands of pedestrians walking just two feet from where she sat were the ones who had killed her family.

             
And so today she looked elsewhere, which is why she noticed the guy sitting on one of the stools at the counter. He looked young, probably a few years older than her. He was drinking an espresso, and she couldn’t help but notice how big his hands seemed on the tiny cup. His hair was a light brown, almost blond, and cropped short and neat; Caroline thought he might be in the military. From where she was sitting, she could see his profile, and it was a nice profile - he had a strong chin, and his nose was long and straight but pretty much in proportion with the rest of his features. Overall, he was pretty good-looking - alright, he was gorgeous, but Caroline would’ve eventually lost interest except for the fact that he kept
glancing
over at her. It was almost as if she wasn’t even the reason he kept looking in her direction, as if she just happened to be sitting where he ended up looking, but she could tell he was checking her out, and if she hadn’t just buried her family, she might have encouraged him with a smile and hair toss. As it was, though, she didn’t smile at him, or even acknowledge in any manner that she had noticed him noticing her, so it was with some surprise that she saw him get up from his seat and walk over to her table. She could see, once he stood, that he was tall, probably a little over six feet, and that he was well-built; he had probably played basketball in high school, and he obviously still worked out. She also noted, as he got closer, that his eyes were a light, golden brown, like amber, and that his lashes were thick, long and dark. She was a sucker for brown eyes and long lashes.

             
“Hi,” he said, startling her out of her thoughts of beautiful, brown eyes, and she must have jumped, because he immediately apologized.

             
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

             
“No, that’s okay,” she said, trying to clear her head. “I mean, I’m okay.” She was becoming flustered. She wasn’t used to gorgeous guys approaching her. Basically because it never happened.

             
“Are you Caroline Gallagher?”