Vampire Innocent (Book 9): An Introduction To Paranormal Diplomacy

by Cox, Matthew S.

  The little fuzzball keeps looking at me with the same expression as if to say the world only continued to exist because the kitten permitted it to.

  Ugh. My unlife is weird.

  2

  Fairy Tales and Crime Dramas

  Wednesday’s aren’t usually known as big ‘go out and have fun’ nights.

  Restaurant crowds—I’d say bar crowds, but neither Hunter nor I are old enough—are pretty light in the middle of the week. He’s got the night off from waiting tables at Mi Tierra and claims to be all caught up with his classwork, so he picks me up from school after my calculus class lets out at 9:30 ish for a date night.

  Since I don’t really eat anymore, at least not out of necessity, he’s been trying to come up with other things to do than take me out for dinner. Like tonight, for example. We’re going to a live theater performance, or some such thing, downtown.

  He opens the passenger door window to say something, but I surprise him by jumping in Dukes of Hazzard style. Being able to fly makes it way easier. My butt hits the seat the same time my lips crash against his.

  “Hey,” I say after we lean back from a long kiss. “As much as I’d love to just sit here and make out with you, we’re gonna be late.”

  Hunter smiles at me in a ‘show? What show?’ kind of way. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Hah.” I chuck my backpack into the rear seat. “So what is this thing you’re taking me to, anyway?’

  “Oh, umm… about that.” He drops the car in gear and pulls out. “I thought I got a good deal on a symphony concert, but I didn’t read the tickets right. It’s not the Seattle Philharmonic. It’s some guy named Phil with a harmonica, doing stand-up comedy. Probably why the tickets were only $28.”

  I stare at him. “Sounds ridiculous… and probably funny.”

  He manages to last a whole fourteen seconds before he laughs. “I’m teasing. It’s a small theater house doing a reimagining of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, only they’ve turned it into a heavy metal musical.”

  “Okay, now we’re talking weirder than a dude with a harmonica.” I tap my foot. “But, I’m curious.”

  “Ever listen to Nightwish or Epica?” asks Hunter.

  “I’ve never even heard of them. Bands?”

  “Yeah. This is kinda like them. Basically, an opera singer fronting a metal band.”

  I give him major side eye. “Ooo… kay.”

  “If you hate it, we don’t have to stay the whole time.”

  “Aww, it can’t be too bad. It only sounds like a strange idea to me. See, if you ask my dad what heavy metal is, he’ll say Metallica or Guns ’N Roses.”

  “Nah, those bands are classic rock.”

  I chuckle. “Don’t let my dad hear you call them classic rock. He’ll age away into a mummy right before our eyes.”

  “How’s Coralie doing?”

  “Huh? Where’d that come from?” I blink at him.

  “Mummy?”

  “Oh…” I cringe. Looking at the woman’s ghost is way more pleasant than seeing her physical remains. “As far as I know, safe. She hasn’t popped in since she warned me about Ashley. Probably good not to hear from an oracle. Means nothing crazy dangerous is going to happen soon.”

  Hunter looks over at me after stopping at a red light. “How’s Ash?”

  I wave randomly. “You know how she is. Totally freaked out for like a day, now she acts like she didn’t almost die. The girl is abnormally cheerful and optimistic. Mrs. Carter made her take a week off work to rest, but Ash refused to miss school.”

  “A sunny disposition ought’a help her with the bad parts of being a vet.” He squeezes my hand.

  “I hope so. She was a mess for months when Bonkers died.”

  “Bonkers?”

  A sad sigh escapes me. “We were like eleven or so. Bonkers was her mother’s old orange tabby cat. Big ol’ fluffy thing. Had to be sixteen pounds. He got the zooms all the time. Would race around the house, stop short, give you a weird look, then take off running like you pointed a gun at him.”

  Hunter laughs. “Cats… poor guy. So what happened to him?”

  “Nothing crazy. Only age. Of course, it hit her worse because Ashley found him dead when she got home from school. Bonkers had curled up on her bed. She felt so guilty for not being home for his last minutes.”

  “Aww.” Hunter slows, and pulls in behind a few cars waiting to enter a parking garage. “Way harder to deal with losing your cat than helping other people cope with losing their pet.”

  “True. I think she’ll be okay. She’s squishy on the outside, but tougher than she looks inside. When those idiot wanna-be hunters attacked me, she went all lioness on them.”

  He makes a silly face at me. “No wonder you two are such close friends. You’re a lot alike.”

  “Hah.”

  “I’m serious. Most people in your situation would lose their minds.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “You’re so sure I haven’t.”

  “Positive.” He leans in and sneaks a quick kiss since the cars aren’t moving. “You’re still the same girl I fell in love with four years ago.”

  “Yeah, no kidding. I look like a freshman again.”

  He chuckles. “You don’t look like you’re fourteen.”

  “Thanks.”

  “More like fifteen,” he says, deadpan.

  I gasp, feigning shock like Aurélie if someone spilled wine on her fancy dress.

  “Sixteen?” He grins.

  We’re quiet for a moment, then both break into laughter.

  “So other than having the face of a kid, you really think I’m the same person?”

  “Mostly.” He peels his gaze off me when the car in front of us advances into the garage. “You do seem more confident.”

  “Well, yeah. I guess. Being immortal does take the fear out of some things. Like going outside alone at night, talking to strange people… getting into a sword fight with a six ton wasp-tarantula.”

  He starts to laugh again, then gives me this ‘whoa, you’re not kidding, are you?’ stare.

  Of course, he’s pulling my leg as he already got the story in vivid detail.

  On the way to find a parking spot inside the garage, and the walk to the theater, we swap daily update stories. For once, mine are as mundane as his… except for Sophia’s glowing kitten.

  “Hah.”

  “What?”

  “Sophia’s Glowing Kitten… sounds like the name of a band.”

  I snicker. “Yeah, one of those groups full of tween girls doing cute covers of death metal.”

  “Maybe they could open for this show?” He hands me my ticket and threads his arm through mine.

  “Heh, right?”

  My brain keeps me laughing by forcing me to imagine the Littles plus Nicole and Megan on stage in over-the-top cute-but-creepy costumes. I imagine Sophia as the singer belting out something so adorable and sweet it gives half the audience diabetes, like the opening songs to one of those cutesy Japanese cartoons she likes. Only, Sophia would never front a band. She’s way too shy about performing in public. Being one of twenty-something girls on stage in a dance recital is about the limit of her tolerance for stage fright. Sierra would totally do it, though. Her, I could see belching into the mic and flipping off hecklers. Sam would end up on drums, possibly also wearing a dress for the lols.

  “I’ve never been to a live theater before, unless grade school talent shows count. Are the performances better when the actors aren’t being forced to participate?” I whisper as we enter the theater.

  Hunter stifles a laugh. “Pretty sure this is a little higher budget than a school talent show.”

  “Whoa… is this the place where they shot Lincoln?”

  The room seriously looks like it came out of the early 1900s. Lots of maroon with gold trim. They’ve got a couple of elevated box seats—and one of them has a pair of puppets in it, the two old critics from The Muppet Show.

  “Look!” I point. “Totally hilari
ous.”

  “Huh?” He glances around. When he finally notices the two Muppets up in their box seat, he chuckles. “Wow. Do you think they have someone talk for them or did someone pose them up there purely as an homage?”

  “You said this is metal, right? Not like we’d hear them.”

  “Yeah, true.”

  We take our seats. Fortunately, the chairs are more like a modern movie theater—comfortable—and not relics from a century past. Can’t tell if this place is as old as it looks or if it had been made on purpose to look old but isn’t. Oh well. Not really worth thinking about. Sophia would want to know. Sierra wouldn’t have even thought to wonder about it. Sam would be bouncing in the seat because the cushion is springy.

  Though we want to keep talking, being in this room has a presence similar to a librarian shushing everyone. Even though the show hasn’t started yet, it feels wrong to make too much noise. We cut the timing close, which ends up being a good thing as the lights go down within only a few minutes of us arriving.

  The show is both weird as hell and awesome. According to the program booklet they handed us on the way in, four local bands are collaborating with a theater troupe. Their lead singers and backup vocalists also play ‘speaking’ parts, and most of the band members are up on stage except for the drummers. Having four drum sets would take up too much room, so they’re down in the orchestra pit.

  Being a vampire with highly keen senses is usually a benefit. Tonight, not so much. Fortunately, the same way I can ‘turn off’ my night vision to avoid causing a serious accident while driving at night—headlights are super bright to vampire eyes—I can mute my ears. Not in the sense of shutting off all sound, but there’s no need for me to hear a housefly burp at thirty feet when we’re surrounded by casket-sized speakers.

  It’s totally surreal to see people dressed up as various fey creatures while shredding on electric guitars. The singers, four women and two guys, have so much power in their voices I seriously get tingles. This music is a lot ‘harder’ than what I normally listen to, but the combination of it plus operatic singing really does work. And the music isn’t all pounding heavy. Some parts are orchestral and epic, like straight off the soundtrack of a fantasy movie. Honestly, when Hunter first said ‘heavy metal,’ my first thought was something like what the metalheads at school listened to, where it sounded as if the singer—using the term loosely—had swallowed the microphone halfway into his throat and gagged on it.

  Going to a movie on a date, especially if the film is kinda boring, is really an excuse to make out in public. A live show? Especially one with such loud music and energy… demands my attention. We hold hands, kiss occasionally, but mostly sit there enthralled by the performance. So weird to think how none of the performers are legit famous. They don’t sound at all like new bands starting out.

  Much to my surprise, nothing weird happens the whole time.

  Holy crap! I managed to sit through an entire event feeling like a normal person.

  Were I a superstitious sort, such a thing would have certainly convinced me fate had a doozy in store for me. But, chaos, right? There’s no correlation between unconnected events going on in two different places. Some idiot running a red light in Brisbane, Australia doesn’t cause the local Starbucks to run out of diet mocha syrup.

  Still, I can’t help but feel like it’s about time for me to have a triple-scoop cone of weirdberry ice cream with extra WTF sauce. Sophia’s cat glowed yesterday. She’s messing around with magic more and more. Something is going to blow up in my face. Or her face. Suppose it could be worse. Sierra having magic would scare me far more. Not to say she’s evil, or violent, or even prone to destructive impulses. But she lacks Sophia’s extreme niceness. If someone did something mean to both of them, Sophia would feel bad about it and walk away with her head down. Magic-Sierra would light the offending party on fire.

  Sam would be in the middle somewhere. He’d only light someone on fire if they hurt one of his sisters—me included—or our parents. Mostly, he’d use magic to turn his PlayStation 4 into full-immersion virtual reality. The boy just wants to have fun.

  Dammit. Now I have Cyndi Lauper stuck in my head.

  Not her. That would hurt. I mean her song.

  Once the crowd—surprisingly there is one—thins, we head outside and walk to the parking garage. It’s a bit past midnight, so most of the people around us are on edge. Seattle isn’t a particularly dangerous city, but it’s still a big city and there’s always the risk of someone desperate trying to do something stupid. It’s awesome not having to be afraid of muggers. I’m still cautious, since Hunter isn’t immortal. However, barring the extremely unlikely situation of a sniper in the distance trying to assassinate him, I should be able to take care of any problems. As far as I know, my boyfriend doesn’t secretly work for Mossad or the Kremlin or some other lesser-known spy agency, so he should be safe from long distance rifle fire.

  Though, he does have this one jackass who keeps giving him a hard time at the restaurant.

  The woman goes there twice a week and almost always bitches about everything. Hunter made the mistake of pointing out he caught her in a lie regarding some complaint about her food. Since then, she complains about him even if he isn’t her waiter. Fortunately, the management knows the woman is lying. She might be lurking in wait to ambush him, but I doubt she’d try stabbing him to death with a negative feedback card. I really ought to track her down and convince her to chill.

  Hunter has class in the morning, so our mission is on a tight schedule.

  We hop in his car and head back to his house. Half the roof is covered in blue plastic. His mother has hired contractors to repair it due to her receiving a nice little sign-on bonus for her new job. She doesn’t actually start until January, but the boss was… umm, ‘really generous’ to her. No, I don’t feel guilty about it. First of all, squeezing a little money out of a corporation is like a totally Robin Hood thing to do. Second, it’s only stealing if I get the money. Michelle—and my mother—would disagree, but this is me mentally sticking my tongue out at them. What’s the point of being an immortal with powers if I don’t use them sometimes, right?

  It has to be a good sign.

  No, not the tarp.

  I mean, how I scurry upstairs with Hunter, the two of us acting like a pair of horny rabbits. Not once in the time I spent with Scott did sex ever feel like an ‘ooh, I can’t wait.’ Okay, it had a few moments of pleasure, but more often than not, it ended up being a ‘get it over with’ situation. At the time, it never occurred to me, but in hindsight, more often than not, I only agreed to do it with him because I was afraid of how he’d react if I refused. Yeah, I know. Big red flag. Sigh.

  Anyway, another bonus of having powers of mental influence: Hunter and I don’t need to sneak off to weird out-of-the-way places to get romantic. So what if his mother or little brother walks in on us?

  What they don’t remember won’t hurt them.

  It’s better than getting bedbugs from a shady motel. Though, after watching a play about half-naked faeries dancing in the woods… I’m sorta tempted to suggest we slip off to a private bit of forest sometime. Again, so what if someone catches us? I have powers of mind control. Wow, wanting to go have sex outside in the trees is totally and completely not like me. Thinking about it makes me blush, but not change my mind. Am I getting bolder in my undeath or is there something about vampires?

  My luck, trying to have a romantic night in the woods with Hunter would turn into a Ben Stiller movie… There’s Something About Vampires.

  We sneak inside and go up to his room. As soon as the door’s shut, we fling off our clothes and leap onto the bed—and the urge to rush stops. We lay there, our noses nearly touching, for a while, basking in each other’s presence. Hunter’s thoughts have finally evolved past the ‘I can’t believe she’s with me’ to being thoroughly in love.

  This relationship of ours still makes me feel a little guilty. How different would
things be if I’d not brushed him off the first time he tried to talk to me? Honestly, my intent wasn’t at all like ‘go away, loser,’ but at fourteen, I’d been freaked out at having a boy walk up to me and awkwardly stammer. Maybe my appearance didn’t give it away, but I’d been as nervous as he sounded. If we’d started dating then, Scott wouldn’t have killed me. Hunter and I could’ve been like kids in movies who fall in love in ninth grade and marry right after college graduation.

  Yeah, as if those stories happen in real life.

  Alas, someone stepped on a rotten turnip in Oklahoma, so Hunter never tried talking to me again. Chaos, right?

  He knows how I feel about ‘stealing’ him from a living girl who could give him all the normal stuff involved with a long-term commitment. Beyond not being able to have kids, the whole ‘being ordinary’ thing doesn’t work with me. Going out in the bright daylight, standard job, social life… none of it is plausible for me. Sure, we could be night owls and have a social life after dark, but, yeah.

  Neither one of us is really so extroverted.

  It baffles me how he totally doesn’t care about any of it. Maybe this is true love.

  “What’s wrong?” whispers Hunter.

  The taste of his breath on my lips annoyingly reminds me I need blood, but at least it’s not an emergency. “You know, the usual guilt.”

  He kisses me. “No need to be guilty. Mom’s new job is like winning the lottery. The tickets weren’t expensive. Besides, starting next year, she’s going to cover my tuition and school costs, so spending money on fun stuff now and then isn’t a big deal.”

  “Your mom’s job thing, umm, isn’t what I felt guilty about. The usual.”

  “Oh. The usual.” He brushes a hand over my head. “Well, don’t feel guilty about that either. I’ve been totally in love with you since the first moment I saw you.”

  I grin, stretching my arms out to grasp the back of his neck. “Yeah, thinking about you dreaming of me every night for four years is only a little bit creepy. Love at first sight only happens in faerie tales and crime dramas.”