Wicked Sunset (Sunset Vampire Series, Book 4) (28 page)

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Authors: Jaz Primo

Tags: #Vampire Paranormal Romance Urban Fantasy

BOOK: Wicked Sunset (Sunset Vampire Series, Book 4)
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Stealthy guy.

Roman and I got along nicely, and Paige and he seemed to have hit it off well enough, as well. As I suspected, he took his primary orders from Kat, but Paige had the ability to issue local directives to him.

The current arrangement was he was on duty beginning at sunrise, and Paige took over at sunset.

Imagine that.

On campus, I made a few new acquaintances early on, thanks primarily to a fellow history graduate student named Trey Baker. He majored in Middle Ages History and was actively advised by Dr. Gowan.

Gowan was Trey’s dissertation chairperson, and had been his master’s thesis chair, as well.

Small world.

Trey introduced me to a group of his friends who frequented a local coffee café during the day called Witches Brew on Grove Street near the main campus.

During the evenings, my new acquaintances liked to hang out at either a bar called Yalehoos over on Crown Street, or a pub called Prime Time on Chapel Street. Within a couple of weeks, I’d visited all three places and it was hard to pick my favorite.

To my happy surprise, New Haven was a great town to socialize in.

Of course, Paige had already figured that out. She’d bribed Roman on a couple of occasions to hang around me during those evenings so she could go ‘investigating the area.’

In actuality, it was carousing time for her. She quickly established social contacts at the nearby community college.

Oh well, I figured she deserved distractions as much as anybody.

At first, it was almost painful to be away from Kat. Following my recovery from the nearly lethal events surrounding my quasi-turning, my time with her had taken on renewed emphasis in my mind.

Our daily phone calls and computer-based video chats felt essential for me to cope with her absence.

However, over the period of about a month, our video chats and phone calls were less and less frequent; we moved to intermittent texting in conjunction with a phone call most nights before I went to sleep.

However, what really bothered me was that, while she and I easily discussed my experiences in New Haven, she was less forthcoming with details of her activities in London.

I only hoped she was being as careful as she promised she was.

But then, very gradually, I got used to it. My coping mechanism was to throw myself further into my studies; not a hard task given the high standards and aggressive curriculums that Yale hosted.

A helpful aspect to Roman was his regimented approach to exercise. Every morning, we’d jog over to Yale’s athletic center and work out.

Somehow Alton had managed not only to receive a permit for Roman to carry concealed weapons on campus; he’d arranged Roman’s guest privileges on campus for the duration of my time at the university.

Honestly, Alton was nearly magical at times.

Typically, after workouts, Roman and I jogged back home, where my full day of classes and assignments took over.

That became my busy routine life; at least, for a time.

 

 

Chapter 23

Caleb

 

 

As I sat in Witches Brew with a double espresso to kick-start my morning, I received a text from Alton asking me to check my email.

He’d sent a message to me recommending a topic for my dissertation; specifically, an early evolutionary biologist named Dr. Oliver Simonson. Based upon the brief information included in Alton’s message, Simonson, who was born in 1854, assisted his father in Union hospitals during the American Civil War where he gained an interest in phlebotomy.

Sounds boring.

I replied to Alton, politely thanking him for his assistance, and stating I was looking for something more dynamic.

Minutes later, instead of an email reply, I received a text message on my phone that said,
Not a suggestion, nephew. Simonson is your topic.

“What!”

My surroundings grew quiet and I noticed everyone in the place was staring at me.

“Sorry, weird text,” I said, shaking my phone to and fro in the air while slouching into my chair.

A text from Roman appeared on my cell phone asking,
Ok?

I’d forgotten he was sitting on the other side of the café from me.

I replied,
Yes, thx.

Then I replied to Alton’s annoying text with,
Fine, uncle bossypants. IF prof oks.

A quick reply from him was,
He will.

I only narrowly avoided cursing aloud.

Oh, this is going to suck rocks!

As Mother Mother’s “Little Pistol” played over the café speaker system, a shadow fell across my table and I looked up as a cute brunette stood in the café entrance, intently surveying the room.

She looked at me twice before scanning the room again.

“Is there a Caleb?” she asked aloud to nobody in particular.

A number of people muttered negative responses before I raised my hand and said, “I’m
the
Caleb.”

She smiled broadly and walked over to my table.

“Listen, I’m a friend of Trey’s, and he said to meet him here. He said he was supposed to meet someone named Caleb,” she said. “So, I think I must’ve beaten him here, and---”

“Got it,” I said. “Have a seat.”

“Chance,” she introduced herself while holding out her hand toward me. “Chance Noble.”

I stood to shake her hand and pulled out a chair next to mine for her.

“Nice to meet you, Chance,” I said. “Um, so you’re a big gambler, maybe?”

She scowled. “You’re hilarious, but I’ve heard that one before. Actually, my dad’s more of a gambler than me. I’m just the college student in our family.”

“Yale?” I asked.

“Yep, freshman year,” she said. “Marketing and management major.”

“Yeah, there’s no gambling involved there,” I said.

She wrinkled her nose at me. “It’s not gambling if I’m professionally trained and credited.”

I nodded. “Well, carry on, then.”

Moments later, Trey walked into the café, his lanky frame hoisting an overly-full looking backpack over one shoulder.

“Hey, Chance, you must’ve run over here,” he said. “Hi, Caleb.”

“I was already on campus when you called,” she said.

“Man, do I need some caffeine,” Trey said as he dropped his pack onto the floor and headed for the main counter.

“Me, too,” Chance said, quickly joining him.

I watched both of them for a few seconds.

I like her.

My thoughts immediately shifted to ruminating over what had suddenly become my mandated dissertation subject.

What the hell’s so interesting about Oliver Simonson?

I realized it was finally time to put my research skills to good use.

 

* * *

 

As I researched background information on the mysterious Dr. Simonson, I felt like I was being pulled in too many directions at once.

I had three courses to divide my attentions, each of them requiring papers and further readings. Two were seminar classes on orals and prospectus preparations to help me prepare my dissertation development and defense processes.

Academics aside, my thoughts frequently shifted to Kat and what she was up to.

In addition, Paige and Roman were charged with my self-defense training regimen; largely knife combat skills. Although I found it somewhat ironic that all I carried with me was a small Swiss Army knife.

Not even James Bond could probably kill somebody with that!

Besides, I needed skills with weapons I could fight vampires with. Maybe I was just growing paranoid, but the world seemed to be teeming with vampires, and one day Roman and Paige might not be so handy when I needed them.

Finally, and perhaps more importantly, I wanted to pursue some semblance of a social life just to unwind from the stresses of my other diversions.

Fortunately, my newfound collegial acquaintances were excellent social outlets. Granted, most of us were grad students, except for Chance and an engineering major named Anthony Hess, both freshmen undergraduates.

On Friday evening, Paige received a visit from Ethan, so Roman and I decided to abandon the house to them.

I was jealous that Paige got to see her partner while I had to make do with phone calls and occasional video conferences.

Roman and I made our way to Yalehoos, though he spaced our entrances long enough that it didn’t look like we’d arrived together. Once inside, I found Trey and a group of his friends surrounding a large table.

They invited me to join them, and soon the beer was flowing in heavy order.

Everyone appeared to be having a great time, including Roman, who discreetly sat over at the bar talking up a blonde bartender.

Trey was telling scandalous stories to the group about his time as a pool lifeguard at an exclusive addition over the summer.

“Then one day these really hot-looking babes show up and started sunbathing topless,” Trey said. “So, after a few beers in the hot sun, things got pretty crazy---”

“Whoa, Trey,” Chance interrupted. “Um, not interested in your pervy exploits.”

“Agreed,” said Lillian, an English Lit grad student. “If I want that crap I’ll watch old Baywatch reruns.”

“Aww, c’mon, ladies,” Trey said. “Wait; they did topless scenes on that show?”

Chance flicked beer at him off her fingertips.

“Hey!”

Anthony laughed and leaned over to me. “I wish I had any wild stories to tell. My brother and I spend our time having
exciting
debates with my dad over innovations in light bulbs and batteries.”

“Light bulbs and batteries?” I asked.

“Yeah, my older brother, Gregory, works at Benton Technologies in their R & D department. They’re a big defense contractor,” he said. “Anyway, my dad’s one of the high-level execs, and he’s hoping I’ll join him and Gregory there after college. But it sounds kinda’ lame.”

“Well, take it from an out of work history professor, any full-time job is a good job in this economy,” I said sourly.

“Yeah, but light bulbs and batteries?” he asked. “Gregory spends his days trying to improve the strength of small flashlight batteries. Boring. I mean, I’d rather design the next space shuttle or something.”

“Even shuttles need batteries,” I said. “And lights.”

“True,” he said.

I considered that the prospects of Antony receiving a high-paying engineering job were a hell of a lot better than me landing a teaching job again.

Still, that’s why I’m at Yale.

I looked up at the neon lit clock near the bar’s entrance and took a swig of my beer.

Then an idea completely off the wall hit me.

Whoa. What if?

I leaned back over to Anthony. “Hey, any chance you could arrange a phone call between me and your brother?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, sure. I’ll give you his cell number and you can call him. What’s up? You thinkin’ about a career change?”

“Actually, I’d like to ask him about a special project I have in mind,” I said.

Later that night as we said our goodbyes outside the bar, I noticed two shady-looking guys standing across the parking lot watching us.

What seemed odd was, despite the cool night air, they both looked like they were sweating profusely.

About that time, Roman exited the bar behind us and stepped out into the parking lot while gazing at the two men that’d caught my attention.

They quickly turned and walked away, and Roman caught up with me as I walked home alone.

“Those two men in the parking lot looked sorta’ weird,” I said.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It was probably nothing, but I’ll keep an eye out for them. Let me know if you see them again.”

 

* * *

 

Before sunrise on Sunday morning, Ethan had left to return to Atlanta, and Paige seemed much more relaxed after his brief visit.

That morning, with Roman in tow, I made a special trip to Yale’s Center for Science and Social Science Information on Prospect Street to do some research. It was an impressive facility hosting state of the art technology and a vast collection of both printed and electronic resources. It definitely dwarfed anything I’d seen during my time at Georgia State.

I delved into my research with a vengeance, and quickly lost track of time. Although sometime before noon, Roman convinced me to stop briefly for something to eat.

After we ate, I made a quick phone call to Anthony’s brother, Gregory, about the idea I had in the bar Saturday night.

To my pleasant surprise, it went really well. He liked the idea for my experiment and promised to follow up with some additional information in the near future.

Roman and I returned to the center, and by late afternoon, I had a better idea of how to proceed with my research.

It was past six o’clock when Roman appeared at my side. “Sorry to interrupt you, Caleb, but Paige wants us back at the house ASAP.”

“Now?” I asked.

He shrugged. “That’s what she said.”

We’d barely walked through the front door when Paige appeared from out of nowhere directly before me.

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