Life as a Teenage Vampire

by Amanda Meuwissen

  Connor climbed out onto the overhang and started the careful shuffle up the slant, recognizing the voice, but not truly believing it until he saw Alec sitting there, legs dangling from the top of the roof. Connor sat beside him silently. Alec didn’t even turn his head. His sobs had stopped but his cheeks looked wet when Connor glanced at him.

  The sight of this elder vampire in tears, hundreds of years old likely, who Connor had seen move faster than his eyes could follow and kill another vampire with barely any effort, eased some of the tension in his chest. He dug deep inside of himself for an edge of snark, as he rocked sideways until his shoulder bumped Alec’s.

  “All talk, huh? Thought so. Mr. and Mrs. Leonard were like your kids. You joke about it, but it’s the truth. I heard what you said to Em after you offed the other vampire. He’s your legacy now, huh? You ever turn anyone else?”

  Alec shifted beside him. “No. And neither had William or Mallory.”

  “Wow. So Em’s really…”

  “All I have. Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.” Connor looked at him again, and this time he waited for Alec to look back at him before continuing. “You should tell him. You don’t need to play the eccentric psycho bit. Everything’s messed up anyway, and Em is not doing okay. He almost burst into flames at school yesterday because he kept avoiding feeding.”

  “He what? Youth,” Alec said with a sigh and dramatic roll of his eyes. He used the gesture of turning away to more easily wipe the tears from his cheeks. “I’ll talk to him. But you’re rather bold, aren’t you? Eccentric psycho bit? What makes you think it’s an act? Either way, I am completely in control of my faculties, thank you, and eccentricities are a virtue.”

  Connor snorted. “Pretty sure you made that up, but whatever.”

  They sat in companionable silence for some time. Worry concerning the hunters that might be lurking in the night, seeking them out at that very moment, became a distant echo sitting beside Alec, powerful and ancient and on their side, like a well-trained lion. Connor reminded himself that even domesticated lions killed their masters on occasion, but tonight he felt safe with Alec, sitting on his roof.

  He hugged his arms against the chill in the air. A T-shirt wasn’t nearly enough to keep him warm, and Alec did not produce much body heat—no surprise there. Connor brushed his hand over his stumped elbow.

  “So, just out of curiosity,” he said, thankful Alec’s eyes didn’t linger when he caught the vampire looking at his missing arm, “if I became a vampire…”

  “No. Your arm would not grow back,” Alec answered before Connor could finish. “You were born without it, correct? If you had a disease, your vampiric cells would heal you as your human cells were replaced. If you lost an arm after being a vampire, your cells would regenerate. But you can’t regenerate cells that were never there.”

  “Right. Had to ask.”

  “Mmm. My apologies again about the prosthetic. It was a work of art.” Alec produced the crushed Terminator arm from his other side, handing it to Connor. “The hunter was gone when I arrived back at the school. I tracked his movements into the trees but lost him. They are very talented indeed to escape my senses in so short a time. I’ll keep a closer watch.”

  Connor nodded, toying with the broken finger as he held the prosthetic in his lap. He could reprint it with some modifications, a few new ideas he had to make it better. It wasn’t a total loss, no disaster. It just felt like one. He set the arm aside.

  “There’s one other vampire question we never asked,” Connor said.

  “Yes?”

  “Does a vampire have to be a certain age to turn someone? Like…could Em turn someone now if he wanted to?”

  “Of course,” Alec said, “but it wouldn’t be allowed. There are rules. Vampires must be granted permission to turn others, or there would be an epidemic of young vampires turning their friends and family.”

  “But, as his mentor or whatever, wouldn’t he just need to ask permission from you?”

  “Yes, I could grant him that. But I won’t. He comes from a strong line, powerful blood, but being so young dilutes what would be passed on. We usually don’t allow for a vampire to turn others until they are at least a century.”

  “Oh…” The pit in Connor’s stomach deepened. He’d tried to avoid thinking these things, about how Emery wouldn’t age but he would. How eventually there would be years between them and no more chances to be more than friends.

  Connor tipped to the side as Alec leaned into him. He scowled at the vampire only to find a wry, knowing smile.

  “I should not be so cruel,” Alec said. “Old habits and all. Of course I understand what you are really asking, Connor, so let me be blunt. No, I will not give Emery permission to turn you. But if it was something you both wanted, I would be happy to turn you myself. I get the impression you haven’t actually asked Emery about this yet.”

  “Of course not, that would be…” Awesome if Emery wanted to be with him; devastating if he didn’t. “I mean, sure, we’ve been friends our whole lives, but ‘let’s spend the rest of eternity together’ is a little much.”

  “Is it? That’s what William and Mallory did.”

  “Really?” Connor looked at him with more eagerness than he’d meant to reveal. Alec smirked, knowingly again—he knew. Of course he knew. Everyone freaking knew.

  “A little later in life, granted,” Alec said, “and it is a shame Emery was turned so young. Living out eternity with your best friend isn’t so bad though. You saw how happy they were…” His voice trailed, his pale eyes growing distant, darker.

  “I’m really sorry, Alec.”

  Alec closed his eyes, and when they opened again, the darkness was gone. “So am I.”

  “Do you have any friends like that? I mean, besides…” Connor didn’t want to bring up the Leonards again, but the conversation inevitably drifted back to them.

  Alec’s expression turned wistful. “I’m afraid I haven’t been so lucky. Oh, I’ve had companions, lovers. Good friends, certainly. But not someone to share eternity with. I am always ready to try again though.” He chuckled with a devious, playful edge, and Connor couldn’t help laughing with him. “You should get to bed now. I’ll keep a close eye on both of you tonight, rest assured, while Wendy surveys the neighborhood. Tomorrow, Emery’s police escort will be back to his duties.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  Connor sat a moment more, looking across the yard at Emery’s house, wondering what his friend was thinking, if he was okay, if he would ever be able to look at Connor the way the Leonards looked at each other. Connor tried to be selfless with Emery; he could be his friend for a lifetime, never knowing him more intimately or having his love returned, but not for eternity. He couldn’t live at Emery’s side forever never having what he really wanted.

  Slowly, he stood, scooping his Terminator arm up and making the slow, careful descent down the slant toward his window. His balance was a little off without a prosthetic on, but he didn’t waver. As he climbed into his window, he turned back to Alec.

  “Thanks. You’re not so bad, ya know? Downright tolerable sometimes.”

  The smile Alec offered him was genuine, joyful, and contained decades of secrets—no, centuries, maybe longer—of all the reasons why Alec being ‘not so bad’ might not be entirely true. Connor didn’t mind.

  “Goodnight, Connor.”

  “Later, Fright Night.”

  Chapter 18

  I texted Connor to meet up in his backyard before we headed to school. That way the returned police babysitter could see me arrive at the house, but not get a clear shot of us until we left through the gate again and got into Connor’s car.

  As soon as Connor slipped out the sliding glass doors to meet me inside the fence, I hugged him, holding tight but careful no
t to crush him, or his red prosthetic that I’d only caught a glimpse of before pulling him in.

  “Em—”

  “We both almost died last night,” I said, speaking against his neck, not allowing myself to think of how I’d sunk my teeth there. “It’s easy not to think of it that way because it turned out differently, but it’s true. I never want to think about what life would be like without you. I don’t know what I’d…how I’d…” My voice caught and I tried to think of what else I’d meant to say.

  “Em, dude, calm down, it’s okay,” Connor said, flesh and plastic arms encircling my back. “It’ll be okay. This is all freaky and intense, sure, and maybe my near-death experience with a crossbow haunted my dreams a little, but Wendy and Alec got our backs.”

  I snuffled a laugh into his skin, but it wasn’t funny to me, not really, how I’d gotten my best friend caught up in my nightmare.

  After another brief squeeze, I let him go, and the way he lingered, his hands dropping more slowly than mine, consoled me that he wasn’t afraid of me, even if he should be. “You trust Alec now?” I scrunched my nose as I took in what he’d said.

  “Eh,” Connor shrugged, “he’s growing on me.” He nodded toward the gate and we turned to leave the backyard, both of us retrieving our bags that had ended up on the ground. When we exited onto the driveway to get into the Thunderbird, he said, “By the way, you had the stomach flu, that’s why you left before notes last night, so groan a little today but swear you’re feeling better if anyone asks.”

  We tossed our bags in the backseat and climbed into our respective places in the car. He started the engine, his red fingers on the steering wheel standing out to me more than usual after seeing him without an arm last night. He tilted his head at me before pulling out of the driveway. His gaze was tight, strained despite his grin.

  “Then promise, promise me no more bullshit, holding off feeding. We do this like clockwork. Imploding during AP Lit is not the way you want to be remembered.”

  I huffed an even less believable laugh than the one I’d released while we hugged. It was stupid how long I’d gone without feeding, thinking I could avoid it, that if I just waited long enough, somehow all this insanity would go away.

  Sometimes, singing in choir, doing my homework, answering a question in class, or enacting one of the scenes from the play, it did all go away, and for a moment I forgot about Mr. and Mrs. Leonard and what had happened to me. But I couldn’t just live and pretend everything was normal. Last night had proved that. The vampire was dead, but those hunters, however many of them were in on this plot, wanted me dead too. One of them knew what Connor looked like. What I looked like. Maybe they all knew now.

  “Em,” Connor said, insistent, still waiting for an answer.

  “Yeah,” I said, plastering on a smile. “No more bullshit.”

  As we headed to school, a vision of Alec moving like mist to attack the other vampire, drinking her down viciously and leaving her as nothing but dust, tightened a knot in my chest. But as much as the thought of being brutal like that unnerved me—especially if I hurt someone I cared about—I looked at Connor and knew I was too selfish to do this without him.

  ~

  Connor

  Connor had a free period after lunch with Aurora, which often translated into a really long lunch, but also gave them the opportunity to do nothing for a while. He’d had Zero Hour for years with Jazz Band, which earned him an extra period that he could fill with fun bonus classes, like Personal Finance—more practical than fun, but his mother had sure been proud. Now that it was senior year, he wanted that free period free. Aurora shared the sentiment.

  They sat on a tabletop in the cafeteria where the Juniors were having lunch, taking up a whole table that could have gone to someone actually eating. Though technically Aurora was still picking at her fries, dipping them in ketchup and then into the shredded cheese on her tray. Connor had dumped his food fifteen minutes ago.

  “What about Lucky Number Sleven,” he said. “Lucy Liu is totally the romantic lead in that one.”

  “Correct,” Aurora nodded, “but that’s first and foremost an action move, not rom-com.”

  “Why does it have to be romantic comedy?”

  “Because that is the tried and true genre for romance, Con-Man. Admit it, without looking it up or doing an impressive online search, you can’t think of any mainstream American romance movies with Asian leads. It doesn’t happen! I am forever shunned to the stereotyped role or cute Asian best friend.”

  “Well, you are cute,” Connor said thoughtfully. “And one of my best friends.”

  She mimed shoving a ketchup and cheese covered fry in his face, but he took advantage of the gesture to snap his jaws and swipe it from her fingers. She snorted and shook her head. “If this is your romantic comedy, Connor, you are doing something terribly wrong. Your leading man is completely unaware of the plotline.”

  The memory of Emery’s warm hug that morning sent a shiver through him. “You think you have it bad never being cast in leading roles? Where’s the gay romance box office hit I’ve been waiting for all my life? And if you say Brokeback Mountain to me, I will punch you in the boob.”

  Aurora responded by punching him in the boob, which—ouch—really hurt. She was freakishly strong for someone so tiny. “Anyway, that isn’t even what we were talking about. I said I hate how half the time female roles are only written in to be romantic interests. No substance. No purpose. Just a tight ass and a pretty face to dress up the movie poster and give the guy some arm candy. Where’s the action film with the girl as the kickass sidekick or partner—or hey, as the hero herself—without needing to make it about sex? Why does there have to be romance in everything? Girls are just shoved into the supporting role, Asian girls even more so.”

  Connor stole one of the fries from her plate while he tapped his feet on the seat he should have been sitting in. They were seniors; if they wanted to sit on the tables, they were allowed. Unless a teacher walked by. “It’s kind of funny, right?”

  “What’s funny?”

  “I’d give anything to be typecast as the love interest. Frankly, I’d trade spots with any girl in this school to have some of those stereotypes instead of my own.”

  Aurora cocked her head at him, another fry suspended between them, having come dangerously close to getting ketchup in the long braid over her shoulder as she gestured. “You want to be an object?”

  “I want to be an option.” The humor drained from his face as he said it, leaving the conversation quiet and stilted. He stared off into the throng of the cafeteria, not really looking at anyone or seeing anything but blurs of color.

  Aurora surprised him with a fry in front of his eyes, and he had to accept it, eat it out of her fingers, or risk her actually smashing it into his face. “Imagine if you were gay and Asian. Then you’d really be screwed.”

  Connor laughed as he chewed. “How about an Asian lesbian?”

  “You wish,” she giggled. She pushed her tray away from her finally and sighed. “One thing does not solely define someone as a person, but being half Korean is all anyone would care about at a casting call.”

  “Good thing you can’t act worth shit.”

  She smacked him with a backhand to the chest.

  “Ow, geez! That’s why you’re queen of backstage! No one can compete with your managerial skills.”

  “Damn right. And it’s empress, peon.”

  “Hey, gimp!”

  Connor pivoted on the table to look behind him at where Michael Fergus and his thousand-watt politician’s smile was swaggering toward them. He hopped up onto the table beside Connor and leaned forward to acknowledge Aurora.

  “Hey, Frank,” he said.

  She smiled sweetly—a little too sweetly, in Connor’s opinion. “Hey, Michael.”


  “Good thing I caught both of you, actually,” Michael said as he leaned back. “As you know, Prom is less than three weeks away—”

  “Oh god,” Connor groaned.

  “—and I need some advance opinions on the theme Student Council is unveiling on Friday. Ready?”

  “What is it?” Aurora peered around Connor expectantly.

  Michael kept his voice low so none of the Juniors would overhear, but spread his hands out in front of him like a magician doing a magic trick. “Elements.”

  Connor scrunched his face in confusion. “Like sun and rain and snowstorms?” They already called the winter dance Snow Ball; the last thing Minnesota schools needed was to call more attention to the elements.

  “No, dude,” Michael scoffed, dropping his hands to his lap with a smack, “like fire and wind and lightning.”

  “Oh. So can I come as Captain Planet?” Connor brightened. It would almost be worth it to attend Prom if he could paint himself blue for the night.

  “How about Captain Cold, smart-ass? You and Mavus can revive your couple’s costumes from Halloween.”

  “For the last time,” Connor jumped on the defensive, the usual swirl of nerves and discomfort filling his belly at the mention of his feelings for Emery, “that was not a couple’s costume! Cold and The Flash are nemeses!”

  Michael shrugged. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, man.”

  Aurora giggled, and not the way she giggled around Connor with a snort of derision mixed in, but overtly melodic and adorable. She even flipped her braid over her shoulder. “I think that theme sounds amazing, Michael. Did you come up with it?”

  “All me,” Michael crossed his hands over his heart. “I figured that way we can cover anyone who prefers simple designs, like just doing a color scheme, and the more creative. Meagan and I are going as fire. She has this idea for comets—”