by Abra Ebner
“See you, Trent.” Max’s voice was cool, comfortable. He’d managed to blend in more than I had in my four years here, and it had only been a handful of weeks.
I lifted one brow as Max’s eyes met mine. “Making friends?”
Max shrugged. “You could say that.”
“What’s happening next Friday night?” I knew that next week football had a break in their schedule, so it wasn’t a game.
He shrugged again. “Halloween party.”
I rolled my eyes. I should have known. “Of course,” I grumbled.
“It could be fun,” Max urged in a sing-song voice. “You could be an angel, and I’ll be the devil.”
I laughed. “How is that going to work?”
Max’s smile never faltered. “Perfectly. Ready for a fun weekend?” He hooked his hand behind my head, pulling me in and giving me a kiss. His lips lingered against mine, laced with a wanting feeling, but a subdued one. He was forcing back emotions. I felt it.
I leaned away. “What was that?”
Max looked confused. “What?”
I crossed my arms. “I can feel your emotion like it’s my own, Max.”
“It is your own,” he corrected.
“I know that,” I said, annoyed. “But I feel you’re subduing your desires for me, something I didn’t feel the first time you kissed me, not even a little bit. Why? What’s changing?” I sounded like a crazy girlfriend.
Max started the car, turning away from the curb and slowly rolling through the lot as one student after another waved at us—Max had been working the friend thing pretty hard, just not the going to class thing. “We’re waiting, remember? I’m just trying to remain in control, that’s all.”
My eyes narrowed, finding his words didn’t seem one-hundred percent true. “Ri-ight,” I said, expressing my doubts in the tone of my voice.
Max was playing with the tiny chain around his neck, and it reminded me of the way we were quite literally chained together—so why wait?
“Do you think we’re soul-mates, Max? I mean, like real soul-mates, if there even is such a thing.”
He smiled. “There is such a thing. Didn’t you know that?”
I shrugged. “Well, I guess the term had to come from somewhere, right?”
He nodded matter-of-factly. “Right.” He released the chain and it dropped back below the collar of his shirt. “Would you like to hear the real story?”
This new conversation felt better, and both our emotions reflected that—warm and fuzzy. “Sure.”
“First I have to ask, are you hungry?”
I concentrated on my stomach for a second—it growled. “Actually, yes.”
“Perfect, Vicco’s it is.” He pressed his foot down on the gas, our destination now in sight.
Emily:
“So, where are we going?” I tried to make myself feel comfortable in Jake’s car, but the edgy design of the Audi made it impossible. I felt out of place, and could only assume—hope—I knew where we were going.
Jake started the car by pressing a button on the dash, no key needed.
“How did you do that?” I gushed.
Jake winked and leaned back, revealing a button that had a key symbol on it. “Magick.”
A sharp breath escaped my lips. “Whatever.”
I would not be lying by saying that this car didn’t suit Jake’s stereotype, because it didn’t. The windows were tinted as dark as was legally allowed, the leather plush and black. Guns and Roses played on his radio, sophistication and class oozing from every fiber of aluminum. I always imagined him driving a mini-van, the cloth seats torn and books crowding the back seats—this was no van, and this was not the Jake Santé I thought I knew.
Jake smiled. “Wouldn’t be caught dead in a mini-van.”
I snorted, forgetting he could read my thoughts as much as I could read his, of which there was nothing. “How do you hide your thoughts like that?”
“Hide my thoughts? It’s not that hard.” He reached across my lap.
I froze. “What are you doing?” I demanded, scrambling to push myself as far against the seat as possible.
Jake smirked, his mind opening up and releasing as a series of rude images that flooded my mind. He clicked open the glove box. “Getting this.” He pulled out a plastic container that was shaped like a half circle.
“You didn’t have to lean so far into me,” I challenged. He knew just what to do to get a rise out of me.
Jake shrugged and winked. “Gotta get it where I can.”
My mouth fell open. This was definitely not the Jake Santé I’d known since I was little. No more shyness, nerdiness, or even clumsiness—not by a long shot. What was going on? What had made him suddenly, normal?
Jake popped open the blue plastic box—it was empty.
“There’s nothing in it,” I stated the obvious.
Jake looked sideways at me, opening his mouth as he reached for his braces. He gave them a tug and they slid right off, revealing a row of perfect, white and—
“What the…Hell?”
“Hell doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Jake commented quickly.
“I…What…” I couldn’t finish my thought, staring—gawking—at the obvious.
“Cool, huh?” His voice was sharper now, unhindered by the—whatever it was—that had previously crowded his mouth.
Jake placed the fake set of braces and teeth into the box and clicked it shut. Smiling wide, he revealed the telltale indicator of what he was. Was it some sort of animal?
“Those things hide what I am, at least part of it.” He removed his glasses then, throwing them in the cup holder. Lifting his brow as he looked at me, I saw that his eyes, which were once a calm green, where now as reflective as newly, minted coins. “That’s better.”
My mouth was still hanging open, watching as Jake became better and better looking by the second—and yes, that thought was impossible not to have.
Jake smiled smugly. “I never thought I’d hear you think that.” He rolled his eyes.
My lips still refused to move as a million images flooded my mind. “What are you?”
Jake laughed coolly to himself. “I’m a part of the Phyllostomidae family of mammals, descendants of the Desmodus Rotundus.”
I really wanted to know what the heck he was saying, but I didn’t. “What?”
He held me in suspense, relishing my confusion. “In other words, Emily, I’m a vampire.” He said it with trepidation and annoyance, picking fun at the fact that they’d become so bourgeoisie. “But not the kind of vampires you think of.” He chuckled. “Artistic types…” He murmured. “They have it all wrong.” He shook his head.
“Wrong?” I chimed.
Jake backed out of his parking spot. The movement startled me, forcing my gaze away from him. Watching the road move below us, my hands clenched the seat. If I was going to bail, this was my chance, but then again, did I really want to?
I looked between the road outside and Jake, then back again. I was having a hard time believing what I saw. His teeth hadn’t been all that different, but the two K-9’s were noticeably sharper, more like a dog. I’ll admit that the term werewolf had also crossed my mind. I would have settled with either explanation. The bottom line was that his teeth were different enough to warrant the fake teeth, at least. His eyes, though, that was the kicker. It was as though I was staring at a cat in the night, the darkness inside the car adding to the effect. If he hadn’t used the term vampire, I would have perhaps thought of a hundred other things first.
He shifted out of reverse and into drive. I reached for the handle of the door, thinking tuck-and-roll, but my hand went no further.
I knew Jake knew what I was thinking, but he ignored it, trying to act casual instead. “In class today, remember how I mentioned the rabies in South America during the invasion of the Conquistadors?”
I nodded, timidly pulling my hand back and forcing it into my lap.
“That’s where this…” he
motioned to himself—the teeth, the eyes, “…really comes from.”
I swallowed hard, mouth dry. “South America…” I said it like a statement rather than a question.
“Yep, hence my last name, Santé. It’s like saint, but all scrambled up.”
I swallowed hard—a saint of Hell perhaps.
Jake heard my thoughts and laughed.
I began to think about blood, more specifically my blood, and how I wanted to keep it.
Jake bit his lip suggestively. “Go ahead, ask.”
I felt so little beside him. “D—Do…”
He licked his tongue across his lip. “Go on.”
“Do you drink… blood?”
He laughed again, so thrown by the delight I was providing him. “I do, but not human blood.” He was looking at the white of my hands as I furiously grasped the seat. “So chill out. That stuff is way too salty, not to mention thick, fatty, and just plain gross. Unfortunately, some who get this disease tend to loose their heads, so I can’t say there aren’t some vampires out there that drink human blood. I’m sure there are.” He shuddered, noticeably disgusted by the idea.
I thought about my Anne Rice books.
“Think of it this way: you get the rabies and your whole body changes.” He was swirling his hand through the air as though he was conducting an orchestra.
“Do you live forever?”
He chuckled. “Definitely not. You’ve seen me grow up, right? Clearly immortality is not for me. It was books and fantasy that got that rumor started. Dracula’s a joke.”
“And the eyes?”
“Man’s got to hunt.”
I kept throwing out questions, surprised to find myself relaxing now that I knew I wasn’t his next meal. “Are you… dead? Like Max?”
His laughter once again echoed through the tiny car. “Certainly not. Feel my forehead.”
I did as I was told, placing the back of my shaking hand against his forehead—he was burning up, explaining the heat I’d felt when he grabbed me earlier. “You have a fever,” I gasped.
He nodded. “Really? I didn’t notice.” He winked.
I huffed angrily.
He went on. “I’ve been running a temperature of a hundred-and-four since I was a toddler. It’s a great way to get out of school when you want to.”
I tried to see him as he was in grade school, but all I saw was a wobbly little geek, not the Jake in front of me. “So, how did it happen?”
Jake shrugged. “I was an orphan when I got bit.”
“What bit you?”
He gave me a look that suggested he knew I was smarter than that question. “Another vampire. Come on, Emily, you’re better than that.”
My brows stitched together. “But I thought you said vampires didn’t really drink human blood unless they’re crazy?”
He scratched his forehead, growing impatient. “They don’t. I was groomed to be a vampire—chosen. You see, because of the change in our genetic code, we’re sort of like mules—we can’t reproduce.” He laughed to himself. “My so-called parents decided they wanted a baby, so they went to the orphanage, picked me out, bit me, and viola! They had a child of their own.”
I felt a little disturbed. “Isn’t that a bit… odd?”
Jake shrugged. “It’s no different than anything else. I can’t remember what it was like before, so it doesn’t really matter.”
“So a vampire can just go around biting babies and making vampire families?”
He sighed. “No, you have to obtain a license and have the abandoned child approved by the council of vampires. Vampires that go around recruiting humans without a permit are put to death immediately. It’s a very tightly supervised operation.”
“Weird.”
Jake smirked, allowing one sharp, white tooth to show. As hard as I tried not to, I still marveled at his mini-makeover. His olive skin and flashy green eyes complimented each other well. The stereotypical dead, white skin I often associated with the English vampires in my books was clearly not a factor. I suddenly wanted to throw them all away and laugh. His cheeks were rosy, and I saw why it was I always found him to be so sweaty, but in this new light, it was more like he was glistening instead of sweating—it just sounded more attractive, because it suddenly was.
“Aww… you flatter,” he teased.
I quickly looked away. I wasn’t used to people other than Max reading my thoughts.
“It’s okay. You can gawk. Really, I’m no threat. I may tease, but I can’t be with anyone other than a vampire, anyway. That’s another rule. I guess they’re afraid we’d accidentally infect someone who isn’t meant to be a vampire. We’re quite infectious in close proximity.” He grinned, and I could see how that would be the case. “We’re just like vampire bats. Think of me like that. I’m just a big, rabies-laden vampire bat.”
“Like a bat?” I gaped, not wanting to see it that way.
He nodded. “Yeah. Sure. Though flying is out of the question. Our eyesight is about as bad as a bat’s in the daylight, too, hence the glasses, but that’s where we get the stellar mind reading ability. Bats aren’t meant to see at all, so they rely on sonic frequency to show them around. Thoughts carry the same frequency and I hear them. The rest is history.”
“So, you’re just a bat-man with no wings and a craving for animal blood.”
He snapped his fingers, humming the Batman theme song. “Exactly. Desmodus rotundus. Now you’re getting a hang of things. You see, by nature, you should be a vegetarian because of your flat, square teeth.” He opened his mouth, openly exposing his oddly shaped jaw line, reminding me of the family dog we used to have. “I’m more of a carnivore now.” He pulled down the visor and urged me to look at my own teeth in the mirror. “Have you ever seen a carnivore, other than humans, with such blunt teeth?”
I shook my head and shut my mouth. “No.”
He shrugged and lifted his hands off the wheel. “See. Human’s aren’t meant to eat meat.”
I re-thought his statement. “So, do you eat meat, or just blood? I ask because you said carnivore.” I was trying to get this straight.
“Sure, I’ll eat meat, as long as it’s raw and covered in blood. Freshness is the key.” He grouped his fingers together and kissed them, looking like a Frenchman.
My body shuddered at the thought. “Gross,” I murmured.
He slowed down, pulling off the road and parking in front of a large gate with a sign that read ‘no trespassing.’ He looked down at me, his brows suddenly serious. “How can you say that? I can smell the blood lust inside you. You can’t hide it. Got a little taste of your sister’s boyfriend, did you?” He nudged me. “Does your sister know about your escapades with her boyfriend? Or is that your dirty little secret?”
A sharp breath escaped my lips. He was insulting.
“Don’t act so demure, Emily. You can’t lie to me. I’ve been watching you since we were little, though clearly keeping my distance. I could tell you hadn’t accepted what you were. Then there was that Gregory Gordon guy…” His eyes narrowed, and I tried to read what he’d meant.
“Yeah, him.” I rolled my eyes.
“Well, he’s dangerous, so then I really didn’t want to be near you. No offense or anything.”
“Gee, thanks,” I murmured under my breath, thinking of the urge in me, the need to taste Greg’s blood once more.
Jake’s lips curled. “So, it wasn’t Max’s blood at all, was it? It was Greg’s blood. I knew it! Rather obvious, really. I just wanted to tease you.”
My anger boiled over. “It’s none of your business,” I snapped.
Jake leaned back dramatically, his hands floating in the air between us, his palm facing me. “Whoa there. Snappy much? Clearly you haven’t gotten the forty days of rehab under your belt. I’m just reading the information you’re leaving out for me to see.”
I glared, looking away from him and out the window. An owl landed on the gate in front of us, catching my attention. It was the same owl
I had seen on Wes’s car, I was certain of it. My attention perked, my mind flooding with the incident.
Jake laughed. “Here, watch this.” He pressed a button on the visor and the gate began to lift.
The owl rode the gate as it lifted straight into the air until it could hold on no more and was forced to fly off. I was amused, realizing it was nothing more than a glorified security gate, meant to keep humans out.
“Where are we going?” I ventured to ask again, no longer within the comfort of the familiar streets of Glenwood.
“Where else? We’re going to Winter Wood.” Jake winked. “You wouldn’t stop thinking about it in class, and I’m one to keep my promises.”
Wes:
I drove out of the lot, wondering where the owl went and realizing that having my feathery girlfriend follow my real girlfriend around was rather shrewd, not to mention text book soap opera. How would I find either one of them? The day was testing me. I picked up my cell, trying to give Emily a call. It felt like ages went by between each ring, then her voicemail. I didn’t bother to leave a message.
Where are you?
I hung up and pressed down on the gas, angry with the world. I took off toward the abandoned road I’d found so comforting last quarter, thinking I’d park there and take to the forest on more ‘agile’ feet.
I put the car in park and stepped out onto the gravel road, overgrown with weeds. Almost immediately, I heard the cry of an owl. Looking to the sky with hope, my owl spiraled down, her markings like a name, in and of itself. Flapping her wings, she landed on the hood of my car. I winced, the sharp sound of it sending shivers down my spine.
“Would you stop that? You’re ruining my car.” I pointed to the scratches, but she didn’t seem to care, tilting her head at the sound of my voice and finding it more interesting. I shook my head. “Fine, have it your way.”
She chortled, hopping toward me across the hood, her every step like fingernails on a chalkboard.
“I’m going to call you Trouble,” I added. Lifting one brow and trying to glare. “You’re nothing but trouble.”
She chortled again.
“Did you see where Emily went?”