Midnight Sun, page 1
part #1 of Mortal Heat Series
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Midnight Sun
Mortal Heat
The Concert
After Party
The DUFF
Rock City
Round Three
Never Leave a Friend Behind
Betrayal
The Feels
A Nasty Surprise
An Incomplete Truth
Sneaky Reporter Tricks
The Discovery
A Vampire's Bite
The Reveal
The Real Truth
A Vampire's Weakness
Alien Mojo
The Trick
A New Plan
I Said You Wouldn't Like It
The After-Effects
Highs and Lows
Just Girl Things
Gone
Vimpiri, Vimpiri, Vampire
A Restful Trip
The Lost Bachelors
Early Risers
Hall In Tirol
Meeting The Parents
Mates
The Records
The Pairing
A Shiny New World
Thank you
Purity War cover
Purity War blurb
Purity War sneak peek
Purity War more
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, businesses, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 Laurel Night
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the people who have supported and helped me for the last two years as I tried to figure out what I was doing.
Alex and Tessa, you are my life. Thank you for sacrificing family time so I could hang out with Lucy and Emily.
Patty and Noah, thank you for your time and perspective as I developed this story. It’s so much better because of both of you.
And Patty, thanks for opening your home and heart, for answering random text messages and frantic emails… and coffee. So. Much. Coffee.
Ben, I was so looking forward to the day I would send you a link to my book for sale, and hearing you tout my accomplishment with the pride of a father. I’m sorry you never got to read this; even though I know it wasn’t really your style I think you would have enjoyed it. I will always remember the day you pulled me aside at an amateur writing group meeting and said, “You are a writer.” It changed my life.
When I began my journalism career, I had no idea I’d use my investigative skills to save my best friend Emily from a rock star who wasn’t quite human.
Emily scores us backstage passes at a Mortal Heat concert, and things get weird fast. My independent, fun-loving bestie is suddenly obsessed with the alluring lead singer Todd, and strangely averse to daytime. Her odd behavior and the bizarre marks on her neck are alarming—could vampires actually exist? I scramble to unravel the mystery before Emily dies, or becomes something other than human.
Adding to the mystery is the charming stage manager Mick. My desire for him is a distraction I don’t need. Plus, he seems to know more than he’s telling me, and the secrets he’s keeping could kill us all. When the truth comes out, a trip across the world may be the only thing that can save us.
Mortal Heat is a fresh take on the legend of vampires with a sci-fi twist. Dive in and discover a world rich in adventure and romance.
MORTAL HEAT
“YOU ALMOST DONE, Lu?” Emily’s voice interrupted my read-through, breaking my concentration on the article I was proof-reading.
“Em, you know I hate when you call me that,” my eyes rolled then swiftly settled back onto my screen. “My name only has two syllables, do you really need to cut that in half? Is Lucy that difficult to pronounce?”
“You don’t mind calling me Em,” she pointed out, her tone accusatory.
“I call you Em because you prefer Em to Emily. I prefer Lucy. You know I love you, but would you please just be a good friend and let me have that one?” I was still focused on my work, not looking at her, which she hated.
She sighed theatrically, then said, “Fine, Lucy, you almost done or what? We have to go, or we’re never going to make it tonight.”
“I’m almost done, just on the last paragraph. Two more minutes please,” I held two fingers up and continued to read down the screen, checking for any grammatical errors or poor writing. When I was satisfied that the article was perfect, I saved it and emailed it to the editor, Fred, for printing. “Okay, done! Happy? We can leave now, and you get an extra three minutes of pre-gaming.” Just as I said it, another email popped into my inbox, and I scanned it quickly.
Emily and I were both bottom-tier reporters at The Steel Times newspaper in a tiny suburb of Pittsburg, Pennsylvania. Typically we had scheduled hours, but ‘Fred the Editor’ had promised that once we finished our work for today, we could leave early. Determined not to slack off, I insisted on several proof-readings, which meant we basically left the office at the same time, anyway. Emily had blasted through her article and shot it off an hour ago, likely full of errors. Most of her work was, but I had a feeling her habit of flirting with Fred meant she got away with a depressing lack of professionalism that I never could. It didn’t hurt that she was petite, blonde, and charming. She used her good looks and abundance of charm to get stories most young and hungry reporters would kill for. Everything came easily for her and had for as long as I’d known her.
We were freshman roommates in college and had remained roommates and best friends ever since. I suspected she enjoyed my thorough class notes and well-stocked fridge in school more than my company, at least at first. However, I couldn’t deny I had benefitted from being best friends with Ms. Popularity, too. We got invited to all the best parties, and quite a few fraternity formals. Emily always insisted I went with her, so whatever jock was her flavor of the month would conjure up another meathead to invite me. The boys would suffer in silence while Emily and I had a blast. Em treated me like a social experiment initially, giving me makeovers like we were in Cinderella-style high school movies. I went along with it all, partially because I couldn’t figure out how to stop her and partially because it was nice to have someone take so much interest. She was good for me, always able to make me laugh and lighten my mood. Em had a way about her; she practically shone with positivity, and people were always drawn to her.
That included me. I didn’t mind being Em’s sidekick, even though she always insisted we were a team, partners in crime. Obviously the boys who talked to me were throwing themselves on the ‘grenade,’ entertaining the plain girl so their friend could hit on the hot one. It never worked, and for that, I was vindictively pleased. Em never fell for it; she was always flirty and charming, and we always left together. She was my best friend, and I loved her.
“Luuuuuuuucyyyyyyy, lets gooooo!” Em whined, and I rolled my eyes again. She did that just to annoy me, and it worked. She was generally non-whiny for a girl that always got her way.
“Okay, okay, I’m done I swear!” I logged out of the computer and powered down the monitor. Grabbing my coat and bag, I pulled my knit cap down over my ears and flipped off my desk lamp. “Let’s go, Princess.” I smiled sweetly. I said that just to annoy her, and it also worked.
“Ugh, whatever,” Em rolled her eyes. “Vamanos!”
***
Two hours later I was very underdressed for the wintry November weather and tottering on heels far higher than I was used to, giggling with Em as we climbed out of our Uber. Em had somehow scored free tickets to the sold-out Mortal Heat concert at Midnight Sun, a dance club that doubled as a rock concert venue. She had squeezed me into a bright red minidress, complete with strappy heels. Even though she was almost six inches shorter than me, we wore the same shoe size. Em talked me into buying clothes she insisted were ‘perfect’ for me (like the dress), but there was no way she could convince me to pay for the modern torture devices we called ‘stilettos.’ She did, however, talk me into wearing hers on occasion.
Part of our arrangement was that while she did her little makeovers, I got to drink. I wasn’t a huge fan of shots, so I enjoyed the time to sip my cocktail and pretend I was at a spa. Em would sip on a drink, then throw back a few shots by herself before we did one together on our way out the door. What can I say, we had traditions.
The bouncers eyed us appreciatively as we approached the door, and I scowled. I didn’t like being ogled, but Em smiled and flirted and flashed our tickets under their noses. They were too taken with her charm to demand our IDs, and we sailed through the door into the crowded club. We were both twenty-four and had nothing to fear from bouncers, but standing in the cold to dig out a driver’s license was utterly unnecessary in Emily’s book.
Em held my hand aloft as we navigated through the packed dance floor to the bar. Even though there was no room at the counter, she wedged us in. Waiting for the bartender to spot us, it wasn’t even a minute before the guy next to Em began chatting her up. She smiled and flipped her golden hair, charming him immediately. I pulled out my phone to do a quick appearance check. Em painted a blood-red lipstick on my mouth, and I was paranoid I had smears of it on my teeth. I turned on the front-facing camera, pretending I was angling for a selfie while I inspected my face. Em had pulled my hair up in a sophisticated, slightly messy updo that framed my oval face well. The red lipstick was perfect, rich and glossy without a single speck having transferred to my teeth. Em topped it off with dark but neutral eye makeup, balancing out the contrast of the lipstick and brightening my murky hazel eyes.
Satisfied with my inspection, I was about to shut down the phone when I saw a pair of luminous green eyes staring at me in the camera. Startled, I turned swiftly to see who it was, but there was no one behind me. Must have been someone trying to photo bomb my selfie, I thought, and tucked the phone away.
“LUCY! Here’s your drink!” Em shouted over the pounding music, passing me a full glass. “This is Michael, and that’s his friend Robert. Guys, this is Lucy!” She beamed, then held her glass up. “Cheers!”
I leaned forward to tap glasses with the three of them, and after we sipped our cocktails, Em grabbed my hand again and towed me towards the dance floor.
***
My first conclusion was the DJ sucked. Fortunately, we didn’t have to wait too long before the band took the stage. Mortal Heat was an up-and-coming rock band that Emily and I loved. As soon as the lead singer Todd Benson appeared on the stage Em found her way to the front, with me in tow. We screamed and cheered and danced through the first set, and I saw Todd’s bright blue eyes on Em more than once as she smiled alluringly up at him. Figures, I thought. We both know who the eye-catching one in our dynamic duo is, and it certainly isn’t me.
When the band stepped away for their intermission, Todd winked at Em and nodded toward stage right. Em grinned and nodded in response, then grabbed my hand and towed me to our left. Once we emerged from the crowd, I noticed a set of stairs leading up to a door, painted black like the rest of the wall. A bouncer stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed and glaring off in the distance. Em traipsed up the steps and smiled sweetly at the bouncer who did not smile back, but leaned forward to hear her over the DJ. She shouted something into his ear then smiled confidently, waiting. He straightened, reaching a meaty fist behind him to bang on the door. When it opened, a pale masculine head framed in purple light popped out, and listened to the bouncer briefly before closing the door again. A moment later an equally pale hand reached out and gestured us forward. The bouncer stepped aside and allowed us to pass, and Em giggled, dragging me up the steps into the violet unknown.
A tall, well-built man dressed in all black was standing just inside the door. He scarcely glanced at us before he turned and gestured for us to follow, leading us down a long hallway lit every few yards with a purple bulb. His fair skin looked almost surreal in the color, sickly and glowing at the same time. The walls here were also painted black, but it appeared as though a herd of buffalo had run down the hall, scratching up the paint and fraying the carpet.
“Em, what are you doing?” I hissed, awed and slightly hysterical. I had never met a celebrity, and I certainly had no idea how to act around one.
“Lucy, we have been drooling over Mortal Heat for two years, in particular Todd Benson. We finally have a chance to meet them and you what, have cold feet?” She rolled her eyes. “Live a little! Don’t you want to be able to tell your grandkids you gave a blowjob to a rock star one day?”
“Oh my God, Em, you did not just say that!” The embarrassment flooded my chest. Judging from the way our guide looked back and smirked, he heard Em’s comment as well.
“I’m kidding! Lighten up already. Let’s go have some fun and make poor decisions. Isn’t that what our twenties are for?” She grinned at me devilishly, then fluffed her hair. “How do I look, Lulu?”
“Great, Em, you always look great,” I sighed, defeated. Em always gets what she wants.
We stopped in front of a scuffed black door with the words ‘green room’ in white paint and taped below it a gold cardboard cutout of a star. ‘Mortal Heat’ was written on the star in black marker and seeing those words instantly kicked up my adrenaline. This is it. We are about to meet Mortal Heat. Even better, hang out with them, in the same room. My pulse was racing. I hope they aren’t expecting us to be crazed groupies who want to snort coke and have a quickie before the next set. There’s probably a ton of people in there having some sort of crazy party. Oh God, what am I doing here?
The pale man spoke directly to Em. “Ladies, you are welcome to stay as long as you wish. If you like, I can get you stage passes so you can watch the rest of the show from the wings. My name’s Mick, let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.” He smiled warmly, then glanced up just long enough for me to notice his startlingly green eyes before he opened the door and ushered us inside.
THE CONCERT
THE SCENE INSIDE the room was surprisingly serene. There was loud trance music playing, but the band was alone, lounging on battered couches and fluffy chairs in a haze of smoky air. It wasn’t cigarette smoke, but I couldn’t decide if it was scented candles or incense. The lights were dim, not too dark but comfortably low. I was expecting a destroyed dressing room filled with broken bottles and knocked over chairs, but it was rather immaculate, if a little shabby. Despite the innocuous appearance, I felt my skin crawl—something was not right here.
As soon as we walked in, all the band members turned to look at us. Todd Benson hopped up to greet us, his eyes locked on Emily.
“Hello ladies, thank you for joining us. I’m Todd, and that’s Matt, James, and Eric,” he gestured to the rest of the band. We knew all of their names, but it was polite of him to introduce them. Too polite for a rock star.
Em didn’t seem to have my suspicions. “So nice to meet you, Todd. I’m Emily, and this is Lucy.” She gestured to me, and Todd’s eyes flickered in my direction briefly before snapping back to Em.
“Wonderful. Why don’t you have a seat? Would you like something to drink?” He guided Em to the sofa he had been occupying and sat next to her, leaving me to take the last unoccupied chair.
“Sure, that would be great, thank you. Lucy, do you want a drink?” Em was eating up the attention, but she never forgot to keep me included.
“Um, sure, yeah, that sounds great,” I echoed, nervous. I didn’t know what had come over me, but I was extremely uncomfortable. Something felt off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Nobody had done anything strange or threatening; In fact, no one had done anything at all. The other band members had nodded at us during Todd’s introductions, then gone back to twiddling on their phones.
Todd grabbed a fancy-looking bottle filled with amber liquid off a nearby tray. He picked up several shot glasses and set them down on the coffee table, then filled them all with the alcohol. The bottle looked vaguely familiar, and I watched him pour it carefully to make sure he didn’t put roofies or anything weird in it. It all seemed on the up-and-up; Even so, I subtly grabbed the glass in front of my neighbor, Matt, the bassist, before he noticed the switch.
I sniffed the alcohol: whiskey, not my favorite. However, maybe I just felt weird because I was too sober. The surreal circumstance of sitting around with Mortal Heat was making me overly tense, so perhaps a little more liquid courage was what I needed.
Todd held up his glass, and everyone else followed suit. “To new friends!” he proclaimed, and we all clinked glasses and echoed the statement before taking the shots. The alcohol was surprisingly smooth, with a vanilla aftertaste I didn’t expect. A pleasant warm feeling spread through my chest, and when Todd offered me a refill, I took it willingly. Em had settled into the couch with Todd’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. She beamed up into his face, chatting with animation as he smiled down at her. Glancing my way briefly, she winked and continued with her conversation.
Bored with watching Em flirt with Todd, I glanced to my right. Matt, the bassist, seemed to be engaged in a text conversation that upset him. He was scowling and texting furiously with both hands. To my left, James, the lead guitar player, appeared to be scrolling his social media feed, and Eric the drummer, as far as I could tell, was asleep.
