Bag of Blood - Vampire Mystery Romance

by J. O. Osbourne

  Trying to be bold and quell the fingers of nervousness from crushing her resolve entirely, Lena managed to squeak out "No, today at your house is alright with me, if it's alright with you." She winced, well aware of how high-pitched and unnatural her voice sounded.

  "Great!" Listening, Lena noticed a certain odd quality to his voice as well. Was he as nervous as she was? "I'll pick you up, then… You may want to text Robert and tell him not to drive you home. He usually does, right? I'll wait for you outside of your Sign Language class at seventh period."

  Lena blinked, taken aback. "How do you know what my schedule is?"

  Apparently vampires could blush as well, a bit of a dull, grayish flush. "I just… do. So it's a plan?"

  "Guess so." Desperate to stop Megan from her unbearable laughing fit (she was hunched in on herself, shoulders shaking as if she were having some kind of fit), Lena changed the subject.

  "Where is Robert, anyway?" she asked, remembering how he had picked her up for school like normal that morning.

  "He went home sick; had a headache," Megan replied. "I'm getting a ride with Mable," she continued, listing off the name of one of their sewing-class acquaintance. "I'll still help you out with your Psychology essay," she said apologetically, now feeling a tad guilty for her extreme laughing barrage. "This weekend, alright?"

  Lena's phone vibrated in her pocket, and she grabbed it, peaking at the screen. She didn't usually leave her phone on at school, but after what had happened to her father on Sunday, his surgery that she wasn't allowed to be there for and the fact that she’d been home alone the entire night before, she felt safer having it on. And sure enough…

  Dr. says he's pulling through.

  Lena put a hand to her mouth, breathing sharply. Those five words took more weight off her shoulders then she even knew she was carrying.

  A gentle hand stroked her hair.

  "Hey, hun," Megan said softly, "How come there are tears in your eyes?"

  Lena had to be selective with her words, making sure her voice wouldn't waver. "It's suddenly a much better day than I thought," she smiled.

  …

  Elliot held the door to his nondescript car open for Lena in the student parking lot, once again waiting until she put her seatbelt on before settling himself into the driver's seat. I should have been wearing my seatbelt when Robert was driving me home from Megan's house, she mused darkly for herself. Then I wouldn't have pain every time somebody tries to hug me. She made a mental note to wear her seatbelt every time from now on, knowing she would probably forget it soon enough.

  Elliot seemed unsure what to say, and for a long moment the two drove in awkward silence.

  "I need to pick my sister up from school," he finally said, desperate for something to say. "She goes to all-day kindergarten; it ends about half an hour before our school does, but her teacher is a family friend and doesn't mind waiting with her for me."

  Lena picked up on the attempt at conversation. "So, your sister is…" she counted in her head. "Five years old?"

  "Six, actually. I know it's a big age difference, but my mom didn't want to have a kid right after me." His laugh was an attempt at lighthearted, but Lena detected levels of insecurity underneath it. "She was terrified the vampdrug was still in her blood and any kid she had would be a vampire."

  "Oh," Lena responded, not sure how to respond without sounding insensitive or like she was trying to pry.

  "She's not, if you were wondering," Franz told her. "Just a normal, healthy kid." He seemed startled at the bitterness in his own tone. "Sorry. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

  Lena nodded. "Vanessa; she's twenty-three. She's seven years older than me, but she lives with us. We're…" she was going to say how they didn't have much of a relationship, but recalled Vanessa's reaching out to her as of late. "We're working things out together."

  Elliot seemed genuinely curious when he asked, "Does she work at the Stop 'n Shop? I've seen a worker there and every time I see her I'm reminded of you." He thought for a moment. "I think I noticed that her last name was Thresh."

  Lena laughed. "That's her! She works there in the mornings a few times a week, and goes to night school the rest of the time."

  Elliot smiled. "I knew it! She's pretty, like you." He seemed to realize his mistake a second after he said it. "I'm sorry, Lena… I know you don't want…" he stumbled for words, obviously worried Lena would grow uncomfortable from any flirting. She lowered her face, allowing her bangs to cover her eyes.

  "It's ok," she spoke quietly. Hands on her chest, squeezing when she was barely old enough to understand. Crying out in pain and getting only laughs in response. She shoved the memory aside. This is Elliot; he's not like them. "That's nice of you to say."

  Mercifully, Elliot made a right turn and pulled into the parking lot of a nearby elementary school. It was a pleasant looking building, with bright paints on the walls and a small playground where a few older kids romped. A small child sat on the bench next to a Korean-American woman with a pretty face and a bright smile.

  "Hello, Elliot!" the woman waved. "Belinda was starting to miss her big brother."

  Elliot slipped from the car, walking towards his sister, who leaned into a one-armed hug her teacher locked her into before slipping off the bench, a small yellow backpack over her narrow shoulder. Lena watched as Elliot took her bag from her, holding it by the top handle in his hand and bending to lift the child into his arms. She allowed him to, wrapping her arms around his neck as he slung her legs tucked over his arm, but Lena noticed right away the very un-childish expression on her face. Short blonde curls (lighter than Elliot's dark golden hair) framed her round face and her eyes were such a strange blue they could have been silver, glowed from underneath her dark eyelashes. She was lovely, but barely looked like a child at all.

  Carrying her back to the car, he slid her into the back and buckled her in. So that's where he gets it, Lena smiled to herself. He's been trained to make sure she's buckled.

  "Belinda, this is Lena," Elliot introduced the two. "Lena is my friend from school. She's coming over to our house to do homework with me." Belinda stared for a moment at Lena's face with her oddly glowing eyes. It felt oddly like a test to Lena, like the child was quizzing her for whatever she could see in her face. She tried hard to continue looking back with a pleasant expression on her face.

  "Hello," the younger Franz child finally sighed out. Lena noticed that, unlike her brother, the child had no German accent, possibly because she had been born and raised in the U.S.

  "Hi!" Lena smiled. Elliot slid back into his driver's seat and headed towards where Lena assumed his house was. She was surprised to notice that it was pretty close to her own home; in easy walking distance, anyway.

  He pulled in front of a fairly small but still nice-enough looking house. Actually, nice enough wasn't enough to describe it. It was pristine, like the cover of a homemaker's magazine, not a blade of grass out of place, not a single toy or bicycle by the door to even suggest a child and a teenager resided there. The paint was so perfect it almost seemed fake. Suddenly Elliot's bland car made sense; it fit the image perfectly. Lena felt a little tentative stepping onto the driveway, as if her scruffy shoes would somehow send it all crumbling down.

  Turning, Lena gave a little jump; she hadn't realized Belinda was standing behind her, close enough to be pressing her nose into Lena's lower back. The child blinked up at her and then reached a tiny hand out, pressing it into Lena's ribcage.

  "You hurt here," she said quietly. "And in your head. Your head and your heart have a lot of sad in them." The way she said it, so emotionlessly and yet so confidently, it sent Lena reeling backwards.

  "W-what?" Lena asked, confused. Elliot, who was unlocking the front door, groaned.

  "Belinda, we've talked about this. People don't like to be told things like that about themselves. It's something you need to keep to yourself."

  Lena turned to hustle to Elliot's size. "What does she mean?" she a
sked, trying to sound causal though still feeling a tad creeped out. He sighed, holding the door open for her. The front entrance of the house was even more immaculate than the outside, if possible; every appliance was set exactly half an inch apart from the preceding one; the carpet was so white it glowed.

  "Belinda… knows things," Elliot explained awkwardly. He reached down to run his fingers through his sister's corn-silk hair. "We don't really know how she knows them. But when she meets a person, looks at their face, things just enter their minds."

  Lena opened her mouth to ask, how is such a thing possible? But then closed it again even as she slipped her shoes off, her yellowed socks seeming out of place on the pristine carpet. Thinking about how Leslie had nearly made her collapse just by sending out pheromones (or whatever it had been) when trying to eat her… Lena was realizing that there may be more to vampires then she had originally known. And maybe Belinda wasn't actually a vampire, but maybe Mrs. Franz's suspicions that the vampdrug hadn't completely left her system weren't entirely unfounded.

  "Belinda, I'll make you a snack, and I can read to you later," Elliot told his sister, smiling, "But it's important to get our homework done. Do you need anything?"

  The girl shook her head no, setting her backpack down carefully on a glass coffee table and making herself comfortable on the stiff-looking sofa in front of the television. Reaching for the remote, Lena was surprised when she flipped to a cartoon-playing channel and settled back with a grin on her face. Maybe she has her normal moments, too?

  She heard a beeping noise coming from where she assumed the kitchen was, the ‘growling’ of a microwave, and then Elliot emerged with something that looked warm, cheesy and delicious. Three plates of it. Lena could feel her mouth starting to water. Elliot handed a plate of it to his sister, bidding her not to get it on the sofa, and then, carrying the other two plates, beckoned Lena follow him. Her heart began beating quickly; he didn't want her to go into his room, did he? Because Lena didn't think she could handle that.

  But no, he only led her to a dining room, which oddly had doors separating itself from the rest of the house; it struck Lena as strange when she compared it to her house, which only had archways and not proper doors separating the different main rooms of the house.

  Setting the plates of cheesy warm carbohydrate-filled somethings on the table, he had her take out the books and notes she needed to start working. She was unable to help herself, and lifted whatever it was and brought it to her mouth. Bliss. If she had a tail, it would be wagging furiously. If he's trying to get to my heart through my stomach, Lena mused, practically drooling, he's done it. Are those tomatoes?

  "Uh… Lena?" Elliot asked after a few moments. She quickly sank back down from food nirvana, feeling embarrassed.

  "Sorry," she apologized for her momentary lapse of brain powers. "This is really good."

  He beamed. "It is, huh? I invented it myself, secret recipe." Lena felt disappointed; were he to give her any bit of a recipe she would probably go home and make several thousand of these triangular wonders. He took a hearty bite of his own snack, smearing cheese across his jaw. Lena grinned.

  They set out to work, Elliot watching as Lena attempted to solve her homework and, once she had stumbled her way to a conclusion, he patiently explained what she had done wrong. It was frustrating at first; Lena wanted him to tell her what she was doing wrong right when she made the mistake, to save her the trouble. But she quickly realized that this way was better; it taught her where her common mistake points were and to be extra vigilant during that part of the solving process.

  They were just finishing up Geometry and about to start on Physics when the loud clattering of keys in the doorway signified that someone was there. A man's voice rang from the television room.

  "Hi, Lindy!" the voice said.

  "Hi, Daddy," was Belinda's quiet response. The man strode into the kitchen. "Well, if it isn't my favorite son!" he boomed cheerfully. He was a rather skinny man, dressed in a nice button-down shirt and dress slacks. Glancing at the clock, Lena was startled to notice that it was much later than she had expected, late enough for businessmen to return home. He seemed a bit on the nerdy side, with thick glasses perched on his nose.

  "And who is this lovely lady?" Elliot's father asked his son. Lena smiled uncomfortably.

  "This is Lena. She's my friend." Elliot explained, hastening to tidy up their empty snack plates. He hustled into the television room to grab his sister's plate as well.

  "A friend, huh?" the man winked conspiratorially, and Lena blushed.

  "It's not like that… I'm his Donor." Lena tried to explain. The man leaned back and laughed.

  "Good one, son," the man commented as Elliot began rinsing off the plates in the kitchen sink. "You brought a girl home for dinner, literally!"

  "I'm just helping her with homework, Dad, please, no more weird jokes." Elliot tried hard to keep the grin off his face; Lena rolled her eyes. The man held his hands up. "Alright, alright! I know when I'm not wanted. I'll get started on the real dinner." He let himself into the kitchen just as Elliot was placing the rinsed dishes into the washer and placed a pan on the stove; Elliot closed the kitchen door behind him as he returned to the table.

  They were about a third of a way through the Physics homework, which was significantly more confusing than Geometry, even though Elliot continued explaining in his calm, contented demeanor. The home phone rang, but they ignored it. This is much better than being home alone all night again, Lena mused to herself as Elliot read over their next question. He's a pretty good teacher.

  Mr. Franz popped his head into the dining room, bringing with him a waft of delicious-smelling food sizzling on the stove. Are all of these people top chef's or something? Lena mused, incredulous. I could live here forever and just gain a billion pounds from this wonderfulness.

  "Elliot!" the man called. "It's Mrs. Metcalf. She says she needs to talk now; it's urgent." A confused crinkle formed between Elliot's eyes. "Gabriel's mom?" he took the phone.

  "Hello?" there was a long pause where a fast-paced female voice could barely be heard by Lena. "Slow down—slow—I can't here you!" Elliot insisted, sounding worried. "What? No, I haven't seen Gabriel. No, he's not here. I don't know; I don't think he had plans today. Did you check Hannah Miller's house? You did? Oh…"

  Finally, Elliot hung up, looking worried.

  "Gabriel didn't show up at school today, even though Leslie says he drove with her and headed to class." Elliot told Lena. "Nobody knows where he is, and he hasn't come home at all…"

  "Maybe he's just ditching?" Lena suggested.

  "No," Elliot told her seriously. "I know Gabriel. He wouldn't do that. Lena, Gabriel is missing."

  Chapter Thirteen

  After days flew by with no sign of Gabriel, it became obvious that Elliot was completely correct. Gabriel was gone; not ditching, he was missing.

  Hannah Miller was not looking quite so beautiful these days; she had lost her two closest friends within the span of a few weeks. It startled Lena to look at her; gone was the arrogant, wealthy snob of a girl. In her place was a lost looking mess. Her long black hair hung limp and greasy-looking to her waist, her once carefully chosen outfits now looked like they had been scraped off the floor. Her brown eyes were constantly wide, staring around, as if any second now, Rebekah or Gabriel would step out from behind a door and say, just kidding, we're right here. Lena couldn't help but feel bad for her, she had never seen anybody look so alone.

  The police returned to Chillhowie, interviewing Hannah, Gabriel's teachers, and Leslie. Finally, turning nothing up, they called the school into the auditorium to talk. Lena recognized Officer Meyer right away, and shifted so that she leaned against Megan's shoulder. Megan sat to her right, Elliot to her left, with Robert seated to Megan's right.

  "With all that's happened to this school in the past few months," Officer Meyer spoke in a clear, professional voice to the student (and teacher) population, "It's clear that thi
s town is no longer safe. Two girls are dead; although Valarie was too old to be a student here, she was once a student. And as for the disappearance of Gabriel Metcalf… Of course, it could be a coincidence. But it feels too fishy to be taking any chances."

  Megan leaned in to whisper to Lena. "This is getting scary. I don't like this. Did you know that Valarie girl went to High School with Vanessa?"

  Lena was startled; she had had no idea. "How do you know stuff about my sister that I don't know?" she replied. Mentally counting, she realized that her friend was right; Vanessa would have been a senior while this girl was still a freshman.

  Officer Meyer continued to speak. "We have decided to set up a Buddy system. No student is to be alone at any time; not on the way to school, not on the way home… not even between classes."

  The whispers in the audience began anew; a slow, unsettling fear making everybody shift uncomfortably in their seats. They weren't even safe between classes? But of course they weren't, they reminded each other. Think of Rebekah.

  Officer Metcalf began a brief explanation of self-defense and how it was used to protect yourself, not to harm others.

  "Shout loud," he told them. "No tiny little squeaks of a scream. If you want to be heard, you have to roar." Lena reached a hand into her purse, touching the plastic handle of the miniature Taser. True to her word to her sister, she had not let it out of her reach. Although it was breaking multiple school rules, she couldn't help but feel better with it by her side.

  "If any situation seems suspicious to you, even a little out of place, leave. Go to someone you can trust. You might be incorrect, but it's better to be wrong then to be dead."

  The finality of that last word silenced the gossiping crowd, and everyone looked at each other uncertainly. Seeds of mistrust were already showing on their faces. Was it a teacher? Lena could practically read on their faces. Maybe that boy who is quiet on the bus. What if it's my rival on the tennis team?