Life as a Teenage Vampire

by Amanda Meuwissen

  “I know. I got you.”

  Connor’s prosthetic was far from bionic; it couldn’t lift more than a flesh and blood arm. I weighed more than him, more muscle mass, the tiniest bit taller. Adrenaline was the only answer I had for how I found myself lifted, carried, whisked across the parking lot as more gunfire sounded and screams filled the air around us.

  There were closer, hushed voices with us, voices I only made out once we stopped moving—Jules and Aurora. The others must have scattered elsewhere.

  I blinked to see that we’d ducked into the side choir room entrance we normally weren’t allowed to use unless it was an emergency. I figured this counted.

  “Connor, we have to get him to the nurse. Call 911,” Aurora said, steady and to the point.

  Jules muttered nearby, less collected but not as hysterical as those outside. “Oh my god…oh my god…”

  “911 is already on the way from the bomb threat,” Connor said, “and the nurse can’t help him. Em, I need you to look at me. I need you to focus on me.”

  The pain in my chest had gone numb, cold as if someone had pressed an icepack to it. My vision swam but I saw Connor’s face above me. He had me laid back on the choir room floor, just inside the door, huddled and hidden behind rows of risers and chairs. His eyes looked even more honey-colored this close, wide with determination.

  “It went right through, Em, but it didn’t get your heart. It was close though…too close. You need to feed. Now.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jules said, shriller than before, pacing. “We have to help him!”

  “Connor…” Aurora tried.

  I shook my head. The girls were with us, they were here, they’d see…

  “It doesn’t matter, Em. We don’t have time to wait and hope you’ll be fine on your own, or that Alec or Wendy will show up to help. We need to do this now. It’s the only thing we can do.” He lifted me up into a sitting position, and a pulse of renewed pain ratcheted through my body. The bolt might have gone straight through, but it felt like it was lodged deep in my chest.

  I smelled blood—mine. It clashed with the sweeter smell of Connor, the now familiar smell of him and the reminder of how rich his blood tasted. My arms hung limp, but my mouth drew closer to his neck, exposed as he tilted his head and pulled me in.

  The consistent beeping from the bomb threat still sounded over the intercom. The gunfire outside had stopped, but not the screaming. The jumbled protests and exclamations from Aurora and Jules, tripping over each other to understand what we were doing, rose in volume, as my fangs extended. I needed blood so badly, I couldn’t stop to look Connor in the eyes, but I still thought with every fiber in me that he please, please not feel any pain, as I bit down and pressed my lips to his pulse point.

  There was a gasp—my own, Connor’s, one of the girls, I didn’t know—before all sound drowned out in the din that roared through my ears as I fed.

  Just as the wound in my chest had begun to feel like ice, now it burned, like a match ignited on my skin, chasing the cold away. The heat spread…and spread…but didn’t intensify, evening out through my body as Connor’s blood filled me and healed the damage. When my arms could move again, they pressed to his chest, feeling the softness of his T-shirt.

  His arms were still around me, plastic around my back, the warmth of his real hand holding my head. He whimpered as he held me tighter, not pained, I knew—at least I’d succeeded in that much. What I didn’t expect was what remained when the heat left me just as the cold had left, and in its wake was longing.

  I could feel Connor’s heartbeat through my palms on his shirt, beating wild. I loved that rhythm. The thrum of it on my lips, drinking down his blood, mouthing his skin. I clutched his T-shirt as he clutched me equally closer, and all I wanted was to move my mouth from feeding up along his neck, to his jawline, and kiss my way to his lips.

  I gasped away from him, thrown by this new desire, finally understanding what it was, hovering beneath the surface whenever I had Connor close like this. Becoming a vampire had made me lose my mind. I couldn’t lust after my best friend. He never looked at me that way. We’d known each other our whole lives. I didn’t want to be that kind of predator, taking advantage of having to be this intimate each week, not with him. He’d never trust me again if he knew I felt this way when I fed.

  “The Leonards were vampires!” Jules gave a sudden cry, as if victorious in some hard-won endeavor. “So many things make more sense now…”

  I brought a hand to my mouth to wipe away any traces of blood, though I hadn’t yet healed Connor’s wound. He hissed as the glamour faded, and I could have kicked myself for being so careless. But my eyes were drawn to where the others stood over us, looking curious and discerning, but not afraid—somehow not afraid.

  “They do?” I said, because I couldn’t fathom how seeing me feed on Connor made other things ‘make more sense’, even though I’d been through all of this from the beginning and knew how it connected.

  “Freaky sense,” Aurora said with a shrug, “but sense. The murders. How weird you’ve been acting lately. The new shades.”

  “Oh my god, are there vampire hunters after you? Was this a hit?” Jules exclaimed.

  I pressed a hand to where the bolt had punctured me, felt the hole in my shirt, the smooth skin beneath, already healed. “I think it was…” I dragged my eyes back to Connor, who stared at me with a curious half-grimace as he reached for the bite marks on his neck. “Wait!” I stopped him, snatching up his wrist. “Let me heal it.”

  Our eyes locked, his pupils large and black, as he nodded, licked his lips, and—no, no, no—what was I going to do about this? For now, all I could do was what I’d said I would.

  I bent toward his neck again, biting my tongue to draw blood. I licked the wound smooth, feeling Connor’s prosthetic hand grab my waist. A sharp intake of breath from him and it was over, the wound gone as if it had never existed, but I knew better than to think something hadn’t changed, shifted between us, at least for me.

  “You gonna glamour these two to forget what they saw?” Connor said, grasping my hand so we could help each other stand.

  “What?” Jules pouted her glossy lips, large blue eyes wide with accusation.

  “You want to run that by us again?” Aurora folded her arms more tightly.

  “Urg,” I groaned. Alec would not be happy about more people knowing my secret, but I couldn’t glamour my friends. They weren’t even freaking out despite having plenty of reason to. “You guys have to promise me—”

  “Please,” Aurora interrupted with a jut of her chin, “do either of us look like some wilting violent who’s going to faint at the sight of blood, or suddenly think you’re evil just because you have fangs? But you better tell us exactly what is going on.”

  So I did—the abridged version, though with several interjections from Connor. Yes, the Leonards were vampires, but good people, who’d been murdered by crazy hunters, only some of the hunters might be good and just thought I was evil. They’d clearly discovered my identity, and knew Connor’s face too. This attempt on my life today would not be the end of it.

  Jules looked appropriately ruffled and fidgety, but Aurora just tapped her fingers on her arm, lips tight. I knew her well enough to see a shimmer of fear in her eyes, but she stood like a wall of confidence.

  We moved out from behind the risers. The beeping had finally ceased over the intercom. Connor leaned into me, dizzy from the feeding, but I hadn’t taken as much as I normally did. He steadied himself and waved away my concerned expression.

  Before the girls could ask too many questions outside the narrative I’d given them, police officers burst into the room. I recognized the officer assigned to watch me—Officer Nustad. He radioed to Tim that he’d found me, before rushing over to us.

  “Are you
hurt, son? Some of the students mentioned they’d seen you fall, thought you’d been hit. You’re bleeding.”

  “Uhh…”

  “Just got nicked, Officer,” Connor came to my rescue—again—poking his plastic finger through the bloody hole in my shirt. “Looks worse than it is, just a graze, but we dove for cover as soon as we realized Em was the target. Please tell me you guys caught the shooter.”

  “Working on that now,” Nustad said, while the others with him moved on to the next room. “Found an unregistered rifle on the roof and we’re tracking where we think the perp went. We’ll let you know as soon as we’re able to go public. For now, I’m going to stay with you until we’ve cleared the building and deem it safe to walk you from the premises.”

  The hunter had left behind a rifle. Made sense, if only to keep the cops from guessing the truth. It wasn’t a bullet that had hit me though. The real weapon and the owner of it were long gone.

  “Everyone else okay?” Nustad asked.

  “Nothing we can’t handle,” Aurora said. She shot me a protective once-over like she was my newly appointed bodyguard and would stop at nothing to protect my secret. Likewise, Jules smiled sweetly at the officer and nodded.

  I’d always known Connor would see me through this mess; I never should have doubted that our friends would do the same.

  Nustad turned away to answer his radio, and Connor and Aurora shared a secretive glance as Connor whispered, “Called it.”

  “What?” I whispered back.

  “Bomb threat diversion,” Aurora said, pointing to the ceiling. “Real threat on the roof.”

  “And no one takes us seriously.” Connor shook his head.

  Jules and I just scowled.

  ~

  Connor

  Aurora nudged Connor with her elbow once they were finally escorted from the choir room. Connor readied himself for a smirk, a teasing comment, gentle but insistent prodding, but there was no mockery in her expression. She’d seen. She knew now how deep into unrequited love he’d fallen. Connor might have been able to hide his feelings from Emery when they were intimately connected while he fed, but from the outside it had to look different. There was apology in Aurora’s eyes, sympathy for Connor having to be that close to what he wanted without possessing it.

  She elbowed him again, let the smirk sneak onto her face, and said, “All the more reason,” vague enough so it wouldn’t matter if Emery overheard.

  All the more reason to confess. Maybe. Maybe…

  They joined the rest of the school outside as the last students to be rounded up. Nick, Michael, and several others rushed Emery as soon as they saw him. Connor even noticed Liz hovering nearby, the rumors that Emery had been shot, maybe killed, having circulated quickly. No one had been hurt, not a single shot connecting with a student. The police were hard-pressed not to chalk it up to a prank, especially with the weapon left behind for them to find, but the fact that Emery had been targeted couldn’t be ignored.

  Tim shouted loudly from within his cruiser when Connor, Emery, and the girls were ushered over to him to give their statements. Connor had never seen the police chief so red in the face. He slammed his radio into place when he hung up.

  “This never should have happened,” he said to Emery directly. “I’m not blaming Nustad. He stayed at his post, keeping an eye on you, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But getting past school security was a joke, it turns out, so we’ll be posting actual officers at all exits for the remainder of the week, and make sure Nustad stays on you like glue. This was no prank, and I don’t think it had anything to do with the previous bomb threats. We’re going to do everything we can to catch this guy.”

  He didn’t say ‘killer’, didn’t comment on how Emery was at risk of being hunted down and killed, but the threat was real.

  “No play practice tonight,” Tim said. “I’ve already talked to Mark.”

  “But—” Aurora tried to speak up.

  “I know the show’s this weekend, and how much all of you have invested in it. We won’t make you cancel, but you’ll have to do without tonight’s rehearsal. It’s too soon after what happened today. We need to make a more thorough sweep of the area, be sure they won’t take advantage of any panic or confusion to try again. There’ll also be a curfew in effect for all students until further notice—11PM, no exceptions, including on play nights.”

  Jules and Aurora huddled together, their faces much more drawn at this news than at discovering Emery’s secret.

  “What about cast parties?” Aurora challenged.

  Tim gave her a withering look. “You get an accommodating parent to let all of you spend the night; you can do as you like, so long as no one is out and about after 11PM.”

  Aurora nodded, a glint in her eyes that said she’d make sure that happened. As seniors, they’d been looking forward to their last hurrahs with cast parties all year.

  “We expect you to police yourselves and go straight home—to your own homes—between school and play practice every day.”

  “We do that anyway,” Connor said, “and this guy still got into the school.”

  “I’m aware,” Tim said, fists clenched, though none of his anger was directed at Connor, just at the world at large. “Your parents are all on their way. Tell me what happened, in the best detail you can, then you can join your friends until you’re picked up. School’s cancelled for the rest of the day.”

  Connor had never been so disappointed to hear those words. Getting an occasional snow day, which during some winters in Minnesota was more than occasional, was a blessing, a treat. This felt like punishment, like they were prisoners with no control over their lives, more than being snowed in had ever felt.

  When the on-hand paramedic checked over Emery, he had to slice himself open briefly with a fingernail to explain the blood, since his wound had healed, and which healed again by the time it was covered with bandages. Once they’d explained what had happened a dozen different times between Tim and several of their friends, it was a relief to see their parents pull up.

  Alec and Wendy had both checked in through text, deciding to hang back once they knew everyone was safe, since extra bodies hanging around the school would only raise suspicion. They would look for the hunter too, but with police all around, finding the right trail would be difficult.

  Connor hesitated before getting into his car. Emery’s parents had driven his dad there so he wouldn’t have to leave the Thunderbird behind. He and Emery would only be a yard apart once they were home, but it was still early morning. He couldn’t spend the rest of the day sequestered from his friend.

  “Come on, kiddo,” his father said. “We’ll all meet up at our place, huh? Let you boys stick together for the day?”

  Connor and Emery both perked up.

  “I’m sure otherwise someone would end up climbing the trellis again,” Kay said with a pointed look at Connor.

  He denied nothing.

  They tried to find Jules and Aurora in the crowd before they were ushered from the school, but both girls had already gone. They’d Skype them later, they decided. There was much to discuss, with Wendy and Alec too, difficult as that might be when all of their parents—save Connor’s mother, who hadn’t been able to get away from the hospital—had taken the rest of the day off. Tim and his officers could only handle so much though. Connor didn’t know what had caused the hunter to miss Emery’s heart, close as it had been, but he didn’t believe they’d luck out a second time.

  The few minutes Emery was out of his sightline, after seeing him shot, and bleeding, slurring his words and going limp, were the longest of Connor’s life.

  Chapter 21

  Being in Connor’s house felt more secure than the school, or anywhere really, other than my own home. I no longer believed the hunters might tear into
our neighborhood and cause a scene. Plus, Officer Nustad was right outside. We were safe—for now.

  It was lunch time before we knew it, after all the fuss at school, explaining things to our parents, messaging Aurora, Jules, Wendy, and Alec that we needed to talk, the sooner the better, though we didn’t mention to Wendy and Alec that the girls knew my secret. That felt like an in-person sort of admission.

  We ended up in the living room, talking, debating guilty pleasure movies we could watch to pass the time—to distract us all, more like, though no one said that. We hadn’t thought about my torn, bloody shirt until we were sitting there, which gave me and Connor a few minutes to escape as he helped me pick something from his closet. He grabbed his Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy ‘DON’T PANIC’ T-shirt. He snickered as he handed it to me, and we fell into helpless giggles.

  It’s funny sometimes how much you laugh when the emotion you’re feeling is more like helplessness, but it did make me feel marginally better. Until I started to change, and Connor made a concerted effort not to look at me. Changing my shirt in front of my friend, something I’d done countless times over the years, should not make my skin heat up. I lost my train of thought, fumbled my words trying to remember what we were talking about, and headed out of his room while still pulling the shirt over my head.

  Paul had grabbed the first three Die Hard movies. That small semblance of normal made it easy to sink into the sofa next to Connor.

  Georgia came home from work in time to join us for the end of Die Hard 2. Everyone being over didn’t disrupt her plans for dinner in the slightest; she always cooked enough for a small army, product of growing up in a large family and only knowing recipes that served close to eight people, which ended up being just enough when the doorbell rang…and Alec and Wendy both stood there.