Presidential Vampire: First Sun [Presidential Vampire, Book One]: A Young Adult Vampire Romance

by Holly Hook

  Becky won't look at me that entire week, and Colleen and Ariana have made a show of ignoring me. I can't blame them for thinking I'm a blood bag. Hell, Jeremy sucks on my neck once or twice a day, taking just enough blood to make a show.

  I’ll forgive them. They must not know about how vampires can claim people through no fault of their own. But even Victor doesn't speak to me much, and if I didn't know that Jeremy doesn't actually want to parade me around like a prize in public, I would sink right back into that black hole of despair.

  But I refuse.

  I'm doing this for Silvia now.

  Silvia and me.

  One thing matters: revenge.

  I'm already collecting scars, inside and out, scars that I'll never be able to hide. And I'm collecting even more stares in the cafeteria, some of them loaded with enough pity to make me gag. The human staffers and cleaners wandering around the building at this time of the night make a show of frowning at me as they walk past our round table and I choke down my food at Jeremy's “insistence.”

  The claimed are basically free blood bags who don't get paid, after all.

  And at last, it's the night before the big budget vote. We’re at lunch after going over our seating arrangements at the Capitol.

  I'm all nerves. Becky is all nerves as she sits alone at her own table, scrolling through her phone.

  I'm seated next to Jeremy, watching the hanging TV's for the 2AM TNH Alert Broadcast. While I avoided turning on the TV myself and leaving my scent on the button, someone else always turns the television on for the lunch rush. And it's usually on TNH or SPN.

  We're lucky tonight. I'm shaking in my seat beside Jeremy, trying to choke down my tray of food. That's expected, though, which is why I asked them to broadcast this tonight.

  “Welcome to the August Third edition of TNH Alert, Two AM Edition,” a blond, human woman announces on the TV as we and the other panelists choke down our food. At the next table, Beatrice and the other vampires continue a low conversation, oblivious to what's about to go down. “Tonight, we continue to follow the story of the Spade Party's war on public education--”

  “Turn that shit off,” Jeremy mutters as others in the room, mainly staffers, shake their heads and walk away from the TV.

  And then it happens.

  Bright, flashy colors dance across the screen, along with huge, black text. Dramatic music plays as I read the familiar caption.

  OUTRAGE ALERT.

  I gulp.

  “...and this is just in, folks,” the woman reads. “We have recent evidence of corruption not just within the Spade Party, but of President Benjamin Haywood.”

  Now Jeremy jolts, and every vampire in the room stops. Even those who were shaking their heads a moment ago draw closer to the TV. Beatrice turns in her chair, leaning forward, probably salivating at what's to come.

  I hold my breath as my footage, paused, appears on the screen, showing the corridor of the White House and the open doorway.

  “Listen carefully to the audio. From what we have gathered, a brave member of the Heart Party who attended President Haywood's donor event last weekend shot this. Many campaign donors were in attendance. You will hear Benjamin Haywood speaking in this clip. The second party is believed to be Andrew Acton, the CEO of Dream Developers.”

  Then they let the glory roll.

  “I understand that. But my business depends on the FHDA to turn a profit. It's a rock and a hard place, I know. Cutting their funding could mean the end of Dream Developers.”

  “Acton, I know you are one of my biggest donors. And I have had Congress push through lots of helpful legislation.”

  They cut off the part about Acton wanting to become a vampire. The video jumps several frames and then stabilizes again. I expected this. The audience probably won't notice.

  “This isn't about that. This is about the future of my company.” Acton's voice rises as he goes into his spiel.

  Then Haywood speaks. “We will hand a victory to the Heart Party. And I will look weak. Housing is for the deserving, not those who are sucking on the government's teat.”

  A few gasps emerge from the cafeteria as all eyes land on the report. Becky drops her phone and lets her jaw fall open. Even the panelists from the other groups watch in shock and horror.

  “Then perhaps I can make it work, just this once,” Haywood says as the recording ends.

  “And there you have it,” the hostess says, reappearing at her desk. “Solid evidence of this conversation taking place at the White House.”

  I let out my breath. It's the first solid evidence of anything I think TNH has ever had, but I'll take it.

  Then a male anchor comes on, probably for commentary. “Yes, Susan. I agree. What's interesting to me is the identity of whoever recorded this, and how they dodged the Secret Service. Some sources tell us that most of the attendees at this party, which was a campaign donors' party, were members of the Spade Party. However, at least a couple of Heart Party attendees must have been there as well.”

  “Beatrice?” William asks her, letting his mouth fall open. “You were there.”

  Slowly, gazes turn to Beatrice and Jeremy.

  “Huh? Well yes, I was,” she blurts. Then it seems to sink in. “I didn't go off and record the President. I wasn't even there for that long.” Her voice rises with each word. “And neither was my mother.”

  All eyes turn to Beatrice now as the anchors continue to commentate. They won't say her name out loud. But they've already implied enough.

  “Then did you see who else could have done it?” Asha asks.

  Beatrice looks around for a scapegoat, but Jeremy doesn't let her get that far. He rises from his seat, and fury fills his eyes as he faces her. “You recorded my father?” His voice booms across the room. This can't be easy for him, either. This mess will affect him almost as much as it will Haywood.

  And Beatrice shrinks under Jeremy’s glare.

  I want to sing, but I hold back. “What the hell?” I ask.

  “This is none of your business,” Jeremy snarls at me, so convincing that I cringe. “Someone turn that TV off. Private business should not appear on television like this.”

  “It's everyone's business,” Beatrice says, as if sensing that she can't win. Then she grabs the arms of her chair and as she realizes how badly she's just fucked up. “And I am not saying that I did it, because I was never even in that part of the White House!”

  “Stand up.” Nathan appears at her side as he waves a black-uniformed security guard over to Beatrice. He turns off the TV with his other hand. “Threatening the President is not a middle school game, young lady.”

  “What?” she looks around as if for an escape, but Mommy's not around. “I didn't do it. I swear.”

  Nathan, right along with Jeremy's other agent, a new vampire named Ted, seizes Beatrice's arms and pulls her out of the chair. She snarls, baring her fangs and kicking the chair so hard that she knocks over her blood bottle, which spills its contents all over the table. Asha barely jumps out of the way in time, and Jeremy marches over to my mortal enemy.

  “Get out of my sight,” he growls.

  Beatrice's lower lip quivers as if she wants to cry, and the two Secret Service agents hand Beatrice over to a group of security guards. She deflates as they cuff her hands in silver loops, and she lets her dark hair hang in her face as the guards lead her out of the room.

  * * * * *

  Nathan and the other agent direct Jeremy and me to a table at the far end of the room, closest to security. They stand before us. Now’s not a safe time to be the First Son.

  There is so much chatter and chaos among the human panelists, the vampires, the guards, and the staff that a guard eventually has to blow a whistle to calm everyone down.

  “Okay, everyone,” he says to the entire cafeteria in yet another crisp, smooth voice that all the vampires have. “The excitement is over for tonight.”

  Jeremy has angrily taken my arm again. At least the chatter
is enough noise so that I can ask Jeremy a question with no one else hearing. Already, William has left, probably to make a phone call, and Asha and Wendy have cleared the cafeteria, as if they're scared that they're next.

  “What's going to happen to her?”

  Jeremy dares a grin because Nathan is standing in front of our table, blocking us and stopping anyone from getting close. “She'll probably survive. But they will hold Beatrice up for quite a while as they investigate.”

  “Why let her go?” Why Beatrice, and not Carl?

  “You know why. Vampires are superior to humans,” Jeremy says, giving me the approved, canned response. He shifts like he wants to put his arm around me, but he holds back. We can't do that here, unless he's nibbling on my neck.

  “How long?” I whisper.

  Then Jeremy pulls me close to him and sniffs the sensitive flesh on my neck. He's going to bite me again and take a sip, as he's expected to do. “I don't know. Maybe a few days. Maybe months. But we've cleared her out long enough for the big Senate vote tomorrow.”

  The vote on the Act.

  We’re going to see it unveiled, changes included if all has gone well tonight.

  Jeremy flicks his tongue across my skin, and I shudder as his fangs follow. He opens the freshest wound on my skin, but it still hurts enough to make me cry out as he takes the smallest of sips. Jeremy shakes as he struggles for control, and I know that a part of him wants to take more—a lot more. “Ember, I can barely hold back,” he whispers so low that I can barely hear it over the chatter.

  Should I take that as a compliment? Jeremy releases me, and I dab my neck with the cloth napkin he's provided for me. I don't dare say a word.

  He motions for me to stand, and I take the cloth off my neck and tuck it into my purse, which he's also provided for me. Locking his arm around my elbow, he quickly parades me out of the cafeteria, the agents following, and I look down, playing the part of the defeated Amazon.

  “That's amazing what you pulled,” he says once we're out in the brick hallway and away from the cafeteria doorway. Slowly, he undoes the python-like bind he has on my arm. “I could have done it better, of course, but there's a chance now that Goodman will get a kick in the ass. My father has probably heard of this already. He's going to have some second thoughts before letting FHDA get away with this corruption.”

  “Seriously,” I say. Of course, Jeremy has to keep that attitude of his, but I wouldn't have it any other way at this point. “Is he going to listen to TNH?”

  Then Jeremy leans against the wall, licking his lip. “Of course not. Their viewers would hate him even if he were the Second Coming. But the other news stations will pick up on it in no time. They're flies on shit. Only SPN will refuse to air it.”

  “You really think so?” The tingle of revenge courses through me, and I want to believe it, but so far, this whole Panelist program has been too good to be true, to put it mildly. I'm just an ordinary human from Florida who has no future.

  I became an empty shell, and then that shell filled with an inky beast called Revenge.

  Is that all I want at this point?

  I'm becoming a different type of monster than the surrounding ones. Or just the one they want. Maybe I'm cut out to get chosen for a vampire family after all.

  And the thought is so sickening that I turn away from Jeremy.

  “Ember?” he asks.

  I wait for a snide comment, but it doesn't come. How can I tell him that? “It's fine.”

  “This place is hell. I know.”

  “I've learned.”

  “Come on. Let me get you home before one of us blows our cover and screws this up.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  I can barely sleep through the next day, and Jeremy can't dare to stay with me during that time. Not with this recent news floating around. He's expected to return home to work with some publicity people who can help him improve his image. I don't remember how he put it, but it was something like that.

  I can't imagine the pressure.

  The constant criticism.

  The hatred.

  I gulp, imagining the walls closing in. If I don't get out of here before someone turns me, then I'm going to end up the subject of these news stations. These critics and opinion shows. And that's just in the human world.

  Back in Florida, my parents are railing against President Haywood and his entire family, and rightly so. Of course, TNH will leave out the Heart Party's part in the shit, which disappoints me because they deserve equal blame. But the other stations might get some opinions and speculation on air.

  The sun pours through my window as I toss and turn on my bed, heart pounding. Even taking melatonin hasn't helped me to sleep like it used to after a bad day. My phone buzzes with a text, and I roll over to see that Mom has sent me yet another TNH article—and it includes my video. Look at this. You need to pay attention to what's going on.

  I force a laugh as I blink sleep from my eyes.

  And then I eye my bedside clock because my parents tend to digest their news from six all the way until bed.

  It's six-thirty in the evening.

  I can't tell Mom the true story behind that video, or even that I've been in the same room with Jeremy Haywood. Would she be proud of me? Disgusted? I don't like either thought, so I just text OK. It's the safest response. OK rarely leads to arguments.

  I have no more energy to engage with my parents or let them press my buttons.

  And there's a chance I'll never see them again, anyway.

  I get up and brush my teeth, then force myself to cook some pasta that I know will put me in a food coma. I grab a mug of coffee, sit on my couch, and wait.

  Silvia should be here.

  She and I would sit here and be nervous together.

  I wait for Jeremy's knock, but it's far too early for him to arrive. Full daylight still streams through the window, and I'm left alone as the time creeps past seven.

  We're going into the Senate chamber tonight, and we panelists are going to watch the fruits of our labor. It's too bad that for most of us, or maybe even all of us, that those fruits will come rotten and withered.

  Most of the panelists will face disappointment.

  And then what will the vampires do?

  What will be their plan to keep those of us who are worthy for longer, and what will be the plan for those of us who don't make the cut? We have no more meetings after tonight, and Jeremy hasn't told me the details of what comes next.

  I just hope that whoever they’ve marked for death has already died. It's a selfish thought, but I can't take any more of that. Ariana and Colleen don't speak to me anymore, and Victor now keeps his distance, but I wish no ill will on the three of them, or the other panelist groups, either.

  Becky texts me next. Ready for the big night? It's a group text, but it's more than my parents have sent me in terms of encouragement. I just wish I'd get something out of them other than doubt and anger.

  I guess.

  I wait for her response, but it doesn't come, and I don't know what to think about that. I try to watch TV and then play a random video game on my entertainment system, which I realize that I've never used until now. My focus is shot.

  And at last, someone bangs on my door.

  “The cab is pulling up in ten minutes,” Colleen shouts through my door before moving on.

  “Coming,” I tell her.

  She mutters something, probably to Ariana, before walking away.

  My heart thumps. We're going to be sitting in the balcony of the Senate chamber tonight. All of us panelists will be there, plus the media.

  And then our fates will seal after we leave. Jeremy hasn't said that, but it's obvious.

  I make sure I’ve tucked in my blouse and I don't turn off the TV when I leave. It might not matter. Depending on what's happened behind the scenes after I dropped the bomb, it's very possible I'm not coming back here, even though Jeremy has claimed me.

  Jeremy's nowhere in sight,
of course. The plan is for us human panelists to ride in an SUV together. We're going straight to the Capitol, and this time it's not a tour. I pack in beside the others, who don't speak to me and instead carry on a nervous conversation with the human driver.

  Night has fallen by the time we reach the street that leads right to the Capitol plaza and steps. Already, people are filing through the metal gate leading to the plaza itself, and I spot lots of suits, skirts, and blouses. People hang together in groups, both human and vampire, and there's no laughter anywhere as the guards, who stand on either side of the metal gate in groups, check people one by one. Tension floats in the air, and conversations are low and muffled. The guards tonight are all vampires, and the attendance seems split between them and us humans.

  Jeremy waits in his SUV for me to get out, and he's got four agents around him tonight. Nathan isn't one of them, so that means he must be busy making sure the video doesn't get traced back to me. Jeremy motions to me with a stern look, and I sigh and march over to him.

  “Can't I get a break?” I ask, knowing full well that Colleen and Ariana can hear me.

  “I've claimed you,” Jeremy reminds me with a grin. But those stress lines have re-appeared around his eyes, and I know he's just as nervous about all of this as I am.

  Did your father go after Goodman after all? Does he want to save his reputation? I want to ask. But not here. This place is too dangerous.

  “We need to get inside, sir,” one of Jeremy's new agents says. “The voting will occur soon.”

  “How soon?” Jeremy asks the man. “We all know the Senate and the House take forever, and Warrington will stall the proceedings as long as she can.”

  One nearby guard laughs.

  I don't dare to lose my poker face. Is he telling me something? That the new Act has become something that the Heart Party won't like? I'll hold on to that hope so I don't break down in the middle of this.