Life as a Teenage Vampire

by Amanda Meuwissen

  “Isn’t it weird going to Prom with your ex?” Connor broke in.

  “Why? We’re still friends. We already made plans. Plus, we’re King and Queen—”

  “Still haven’t voted yet, and Liz—”

  “—so it’s not weird. She’s dating Skylar now, but he was already going with Shawna, and—”

  “Our lives are a soap opera, that’s what this is,” Connor muttered, turning aside to look at Aurora, who seemed rapt with attention on Michael’s animated gossiping.

  Rapt with attention. Giggling. Sweet.

  The hypocrite!

  She shrunk in on herself when she caught Connor scowling.

  “Well, I gotta get ready for class,” Michael said, dropping to his feet and spinning on his heels to elegantly walk backwards away from them. He tossed them a small salute and a wink. “You guys have been super helpful. Elements will be a hit.”

  “Hey, she’s the only one who actually—” Connor tried, thrusting a thumb at Aurora.

  “Later, gimp!”

  “Urg.” Connor sagged, watching Michael walk away, not even missing a step as he spun forward. At least he handled his prosthetic like a champ, even if he didn’t upkeep it very well. “And you,” Connor knocked Aurora with his shoulder as hard as he could, nearly toppling her off the table, “what was all that, huh? Have I just never seen you around Michael before, because that…that was shameless.”

  The blush to Aurora’s face completely undermined anything she attempted to say. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You were sweet to him!”

  “I can be sweet!”

  “You’re never sweet. On your best days you’re cynical.”

  “Being cynical around you is a sign of lasting friendship,” she said, coiling her long braid over her shoulder again and staring at the floor. “Sweet is for the uninitiated.”

  “You like him,” Connor hissed at her, a whisper but still an accusation.

  Her shoulders visibly tensed. “Please, that is so cliché. He’s captain of the football team.”

  Connor opened his mouth for a comeback but thought of something better. “That doesn’t solely define him as a person,” he mocked.

  Aurora bristled, lips pursed in indignation. She snatched up the fork from her tray and pointed it at him threateningly. “If you say one word…”

  “Please,” Connor huffed, “you’ll what?”

  “Tell Mavus every single way you’ve ever waxed poetic about his ass.”

  “I’ve never—”

  “Connor,” she growled dangerously.

  Scare tactics clearly weren’t going to work; she was already terrified, he could tell. He knew that look only too intimately. “Truce,” he said, holding up his hands. “Neither of us says a thing.”

  Slowly, she lowered the fork.

  “But…if you’re really harboring a crush on Fergus, and you expect me to come clean about liking Em, then this is a pact. We confess before the end of the year. Me…before Prom. No matter what happens.” After all, nothing could be worse than accidental vampirism and hunters on their tail.

  Aurora squinted at him. “Consequences?”

  “Just a promise. No consequences if we back out other than our own missed chances.”

  She slammed the fork down onto her tray. “You’re on.”

  Chapter 19

  Sunday came too quickly, with no news on the hunters. If they knew where Connor and I lived, they hadn’t acted on it. Maybe it was because Wendy or Alec were always on watch, as well as the police officer still following me around, but I knew they’d dismiss him soon, even without any leads on the Leonards’ murders. Eventually, with no activity, they wouldn’t waste police resources on me. We had to find the hunters and take care of them, but they were smart. They were lying low after the incident at the middle school. If only I could talk to the ones who weren’t in on this crazy plot, explain the truth. We didn’t even know how many of them were out there.

  I felt the hunger long before a week passed, but subtle at first, dismissed somewhat if I ate normal food, but that never really satisfied me. The week before, when I’d tried to wait it out—tried to avoid Connor’s help—it had started as a pain, an ache low in my gut. It grew much worse by Monday right before I started to burn in the sunlight. I’d promised Connor I wouldn’t do that again.

  So that next Sunday, he came up to my room. Alec had tried to talk to me earlier in the week, but once I realized what he was about to say, I stopped him. I didn’t want to start on fire in the middle of the school, or out on a walk someday. I was just scared. I didn’t trust myself with Connor, with anyone, but I knew I had to feed.

  “Do you honestly feel a desire to hurt him? To drink more than you should?” Alec asked me.

  “No? I mean, not really, but there’s this feeling when I have him close, like I just want to…” I trailed because I didn’t know what I wanted, but there was hunger there; I couldn’t describe it as anything else. “I’m afraid one day I won’t be able to stop,” I said before I could censor myself.

  Alec grabbed my chin, made me look at him, but his hold and expression were gentle. “Focus on how you always do stop. And if you ever start to feel differently, truly as though you cannot stop yourself or that you want to hurt Connor or anyone else, come to me. But what you are feeling now when you feed from him…” he let me go, smiling in amusement, “…it’s not bloodlust, dear boy. You have nothing to fear.”

  That didn’t make it any less awkward when Connor came over and we tried to small talk, like the purpose of getting together wasn’t so I could hold him down, bite his neck, and drink a pint of his blood.

  During one particularly awkward silence, Connor finally said, “It doesn’t have to be weird, Em. It’s okay, you know? I don’t mind. I even kind of like it, remember, so…take what you need.”

  The sight of him sitting there on my bed, tilting his head back and to the side, exposing his neck for me, brought that hunger surging to the surface. I shook when I first gripped his shoulders, my senses overrun. They heightened out of control, holding Connor close like that, smelling him—the mint and cedar, the blood thrumming under his skin.

  I almost forgot to glamour him. I didn’t trust myself yet to do it without eye contact, even though Alec swore it was possible, so I pulled back to look at Connor, deep into his eyes, and saw them dilate. Like before, I willed it to feel good for him, to feel nice, not painful. He gasped when I bit down, but more like a sigh, like relief. Relief filled me too with the first rush of blood over my tongue.

  When I was younger, this was how I imagined wine would taste, fruity and full and exhilarating. But as good as the blood was, as much as I craved it and feared I might lose control someday, the feeling of Connor in my arms grounded me. We were here, we were safe, we’d survived so much already. This I had control over, even if I couldn’t control anything else.

  Something still plagued me though, buzzed at the back of my mind as I fed from Connor, holding him tight against me. Alec was right, it wasn’t bloodlust, but I couldn’t pin it down. I focused instead on how, once again, I pulled away when I was supposed to, stopped without any trouble, healed the wound, and brought Connor out of the glamour to receive a smile from my friend, no sign of fear.

  It wasn’t bloodlust, but there was something here I hungered for, something new…

  Then it was Monday again, and life went on. Maybe life as a teenage vampire could be normal. Normal enough. The beeping over the intercoms sounding ten minutes into Honor Choir certainly was familiar.

  The principal announced another bomb threat and everyone groaned. I’d lost count now of how many times we’d evacuated over to Trinity. A couple more times, maybe even only one, and they’d add on days to the end of the year for sure. I slipped my sun
glasses onto my face before we left the choir room, anticipating the sunny skies outside. The familiarity eased the knot in my chest. At least this kind of crazy I understood.

  Connor beamed brightly at me as we shuffled in our Honor Choir and Jazz Band lines to walk together. No fear. No judgement. No weirdness even. Just my friend.

  “Got cards for us again, Aurora?” I asked.

  She patted her shoulder bag proudly.

  ~

  Eli

  His spot on the roof was well hidden, secure, with an immediate escape route planned to avoid detection after he took the shot. A security officer patrolled the grounds at all times, but it was expected that anyone who came into the school would report directly to the office to sign in. No one paid much mind to an adult walking confidently into the school as if he knew exactly where he was going. Confidence, purpose. Act like you belong, and no one second guesses you.

  Eli Bane had learned that well over the almost thirty years since he’d begun his training, taught to blend in, play the right roles, make the right calls to take homicidal vampires out of the equation. People’s lives were at stake; there was no room for error.

  Slipping into the girls’ bathroom long enough to write the bomb threat—copying the handwriting of whatever girl had started the false threats in the first place—that was easy. Walking right back out of the school without the security officer even giving him a passing glance—child’s play. Setting up the shot now from where he perched on the roof, well, that was just his duty.

  His dark hands steadied around the crossbow. Gamble had been adamant after his encounter with the vampire kid and his friend the week before—this teenager, turned by William Leonard, was worse than most experienced vampires they’d come across in recent years. He’d forced his friend into being a retainer, made threats against his family to keep Connor Daniels quiet about what was going on, and still had plans to kill to feed even with a willing blood source. He had to be stopped.

  Eli wished there was another way. He mourned every vampire, especially those turned young who couldn’t handle the change. Maybe Emery Mavus had been a monster all along, and being turned merely revealed his darkness on the outside.

  The rush of students from the doors carried a din of noise up to Eli. He looked through his scope, this particular crossbow setup for covert shots like a sniper rifle. He’d take the shot, the kid would fall, die, and Eli would be gone before anyone else had to get hurt or know what had really happened in this small, infected town.

  The morning sun beat down on his back, warmer than previous days, a tease of summer in the midst of Minnesota spring. None of the trees swayed; no wind to disrupt the shot. Mavus wore sunglasses against the brightness of the day, but several other students donned shades of their own as they headed across the large parking lot, spilling onto sidewalks for their trek to Trinity church. They were escaping a bomb threat; no one expected a sniper on the roof.

  Mavus and his friends had yet to pass the halfway point of the parking lot along their journey, walking in loose, jumbled lines, which occasionally blocked Eli’s view, making him wait for the perfect moment to take the shot.

  In his scope, he saw others—the retainer, Connor Daniels. They only knew the identity of these boys because of Gamble’s efforts. Tracking down their addresses would be easy now, but this was a safer bet than making a raid on a residential area. The Leonards’ home had been secluded, ideal. But this, too, taking advantage of the chaos that would ensue, was all Eli needed.

  Mavus and Daniels chatted with their friends like normal teenagers, nothing seeming amiss, other than those sunglasses that Eli knew the real purpose behind. He waited for a moment when Daniels would slip, drop his mask, prove with a brief glance to the side that he feared his friend who had threatened him, fed on him, as Gamble had informed them. Instead, each moment that Eli watched where Daniels was unobserved by others, his expression never changed, save the twitch of wider, lingering smiles directed at Mavus when no one else was looking.

  Eli’s finger faltered on the trigger. He had to take the shot now, before the distance grew too great. Gamble swore Mavus was a monster, that Daniels was a prisoner. One shot and the hunters’ time in this town would be over. They might hunt the elder vampire that had been spotted, they might not. For now, the elder hadn’t done anything but kill another vampire that had trespassed on his territory. Once Mavus was dead, this awful business would end.

  Eli took a breath, focused on the farthest point to the right of the white star decorating Mavus’ T-shirt, like a perfect bullseye painted just for him…and fired.

  ~

  Connor

  Connor’s eyes kept straying to the aviators he’d given Emery, and to the perfectly fit Captain America T-shirt he wore. His pact with Aurora didn’t seem so desperate anymore. The way Emery’s mouth on his neck had felt last night, and with no word from the hunters, only spurred on his confidence. He could do this. He could tell Emery. He could finally confess the truth. If Emery felt nothing, then why did he hold him tenderly and shiver against him while he fed? How could Emery look into his eyes so affectionately when he released Connor from the glamour?

  The theme for Prom had been announced Friday afternoon, just as Michael had said: Elements. Everyone buzzed with ideas—every senior and junior, and the few sophomores who would attend on the arm of an upper classman. Some people talked about LED lights to signify lightning in their looks. Others planned to be windblown fairies. Connor still liked his Captain Planet idea.

  “Come on, we could do a group thing, me as Captain Planet, all of you as Planeteers. Earth,” he pointed at Nick, “Fire,” at Emery, which he’d swear was in no way a jab at him almost bursting into flames in class, “Wind,” at Jules, “Water,” at Aurora, “And…hey, Nick, think J. J. would be our Heart?”

  “Give it up, Con-Man, you are not painting yourself blue for Prom,” jeered Aurora, spoiling his fun.

  “But it’s such a good idea!”

  “Then you be water,” she said, “and I can be Gaia, goddess and Mother Earth. Way more fitting.”

  “I’m telling you,” Michael Fergus jumped in—and where did he even come from? He wasn’t in Jazz Band or Honor Choir. Connor noticed Aurora stand up straighter and hold her bag against her more tightly at his arrival.

  “You and Mavus should be ice and lightning,” Michael went on. “Reinvent your Flash and Captain Cold couples’ costume.”

  “Anyone else noticing the ‘Captain’ theme?” Jules said with a nod at Emery’s T-shirt.

  Connor shot the devilishly handsome and very much smirking Michael a death glare for once again calling their Halloween outfits a couples’ costume, as well as implying that he and Emery would be going to prom together. They had made no such plans.

  But Emery laughed. “Hey, that’s not such a bad idea. I don’t want to wear a full body suit for Prom, but maybe we could tweak it, get red and blue tuxes or something.”

  Connor nearly tripped over his feet. He snapped his gaping mouth shut when he saw all of their friends—every last conniving one of them—toss him a smirk or wink or encouraging nod.

  “I mean, if you want to go. I wasn’t really planning on it after Liz…” Emery trailed but easily shrugged off any lingering resentment about the breakup, “but if you wanted to do the stag thing together like Jules and Aurora, I’d be up for Flash and Cold.”

  “Really?”

  “Unless you were going with someone else?”

  “No! I, uhh…probably would have crashed the girls’ walk and earned myself a black eye for ruining their photo ops. You should totally come—I mean, we should totally go together, you know, so…you can keep me out of trouble.”

  Emery’s blinding white smile stretched wider Connor’s direction, the shades in place as he turned to face him, walking backwards across the parking lot
. His dark hair and mocha colored skin gleamed golden in the sunlight, and there was a flush to his cheeks, probably from feeding on Connor’s blood the night before.

  “Tell you what,” he said, “you come up with a good idea for what to wear, maybe you can convince me.”

  A zip sounded like something being swung sharply through the air, and Emery’s smile dropped as if it had been struck from his face. He stopped, expression blank, the color draining from his cheeks. Only for color to resurface over his heart, staining the white star of Captain America’s shield a dark, seeping red.

  Gunfire filled the air as Connor dove forward to catch Emery before he could drop dead weight to the concrete.

  Chapter 20

  I felt myself sinking, the world darkening, the worst possible pain in my chest. Then Connor’s arms were around me.

  “Em!”

  Shots fired all around us, but didn’t seem to hit anyone, as if maybe someone was firing into the air rather than at any targets. This wasn’t a shooter. Alec said bullets would sting but easily heal. This felt like fire. This was a wooden bolt meant to kill me.

  “C-Connor…” I tried to talk, but my vision grew hazier. I couldn’t feel my limbs, could barely feel his arms holding me, trying to keep me upright.

  “I got you, Em. Come on, come on!” he shouted at someone else. “You’ll be fine, Em, you’ll be okay, just trust me.”

  “H-How do you…kn-know…?”

  “Because if you’d been hit directly in the heart, you’d be dead by now.” His voice didn’t catch, didn’t stutter, just stated it matter-of-factly. Connor was always better than me in a crisis, even if he’d lament his very existence if someone drank the last Dr Pepper during an all-nighter.

  I closed my eyes, took a breath, trusted him to fix this. But I couldn’t move my legs. “I c-can’t…”