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

by Cox, Matthew S.

  “It’s good to see you smiling. Last case really kicked your ass.”

  Mom leans against the counter. “Yeah. Being a lawyer is a lot like being a parent. Sometimes, no matter how hard I work, poop ends up smeared on the walls. I love both to death, but every now and then, they’re enough to drive me into drinking an entire bottle of wine and sparking up an epic bong.”

  “Hah. Nice try, but you don’t smoke.”

  She wags her eyebrows at me. “Not when you’ve seen.”

  I fake gasp.

  “Honestly, I haven’t indulged since college. But after this last litigation… ugh. It’s so tempting. Wine isn’t enough for some forms of stress.”

  “Yeah, you need something stronger. Like a vacation.”

  Mom perks up. “You know… that’s not a bad idea.”

  “You and Dad could slip off somewhere after the holidays. I’m a legal adult now and none of the others are super little. Pretty sure I could keep a lid on things here provided I don’t end up embroiled in an undead war for control of the Pacific Northwest.”

  “I didn’t think you cared for politics.”

  “I don’t.”

  She smiles. “Then there shouldn’t be anything to worry about. Now, you’ve got me thinking.”

  “Uh, oh. Last time you ‘got to thinking’ I ended up with three siblings.”

  Mom throws the other oven mitt at me. “Oh, where’s your father?”

  “He went up to check on… shit.”

  “Daryl’s here?”

  “Huh?”

  “You said ‘check on shit’. I assume the boy stopped up the drain again.”

  “No, not literal shit. The pause clearly indicated I meant it as a ‘derailed in mid thought, then had a bad thought’ shit of worry. Be right back.” I start for the door.

  “Don’t say you’re worried about something and leave me hanging. What is your father up to this time?”

  Skidding to a halt in the archway out of the kitchen, I glance back at her. “Sophia had an awkward, embarrassing problem at school. He went to talk to her.”

  “Already?” Mom blinks. “Maybe they are putting too many hormones in food.”

  I sigh. “Not the red faerie. Something weird and magical happened.”

  “I could take ‘weird and magical’ in many different ways.” Mom raises an eyebrow. “A boy say he likes her?”

  “No. Take it literally. Magical. Tell you about it when I come back down.”

  “Ahh.”

  I give her a ‘yeah, it’s like that’ look, then hurry upstairs.

  Flickering purple light stretches out on the beige hallway rug from Sophia’s room. Explosions and gunfire fill the air—but they’re coming from Sam’s room. Gingerly, I nudge Sophia’s door open. The light’s coming from Klepto, who has again become a being of pure energy. This time, the kitten’s purple. She cruises around in a circle near the ceiling like a tiny dirigible, her eyes huge in the expression of a pothead contemplating why air exists.

  Sophia sits cross-legged on the floor in front of a yellow plastic pail full of water. Two lit candles stand on either side of it. Sophia’s holding her hands out over the water, staring into the surface as intently as Sierra gets into video games when the score’s close.

  Dad’s sitting across the bucket from her, cross-legged as well, hands on his knees, touching his thumbs to the tips of his middle fingers. Yeah, he’s got a necktie on like a headband. It’s simultaneously bizarre and cute. Like a dad making time to play dolls or tea party with his young daughter… only it’s taken a Wednesday Addams turn. Okay, not the best metaphor. Sophia’s nowhere near as dark. Still, it’s almost enough to get me to back quietly out of the room and forget I saw anything.

  Dad looks over at me. “Hey, Sarah. It’s fine. Not like Soph’s scrying over spilled milk.”

  “Ugh. Bad, Dad. Bad.”

  “Seriously, though. She’s fine. Now she’s trying to find out why it happened.”

  “Any luck?” I creep closer.

  “Don’t know yet. She hasn’t said anything. You get worried about me disappearing upstairs?”

  “A little. Dinner’s almost ready.”

  He smiles. “Excellent.”

  Sophia looks up. “Okay. We should go downstairs. I don’t think this is working.”

  Klepto stops glowing, and drops to land on Dad’s head like a too-small hat. “Mew.”

  He collects the kitten, pets her a bit, then hands her to Sophia. “Go on. Wash your hands.”

  I duck out and stick my head into Sam’s room.

  My brother and Jordan are playing a racing game on the PlayStation while Blix and Ronan play fight with toy lightsabers. Daryl appears to be waiting his turn on the game, watching it.

  “Hah!” Ronan jumps up to stand on the bed and points his red saber at Blix. “You’ve lost. I have the high ground.”

  Blix emits an unintelligible warble and makes a shoving gesture with his left hand.

  Ronan falls over backward, and the little squeak he makes tells me he didn’t pretend.

  Wow. Playing Jedi with actual sorta force powers being used. Neat.

  “Sam, dinner’s almost ready,” I say.

  “Okay,” replies my brother, still staring at the screen while he guides his race car. “Lap’s got another minute and forty seconds left. Can I finish?”

  “Sure.”

  Daryl sighs. “Darn. I should probably head home. Gonna be dinner time for me, too.”

  “Yeah.” Jordan nods once. “My phone’s been ringing for the past like six minutes.”

  Not my place to yell at him for ignoring his parents, so I don’t.

  Blix slow-mo jumps into the air, bringing his toy lightsaber over his head in an overacted two-handed chop. Ronan blocks, growling from the ‘effort’ it took to stop the attack. He, too, makes a pushing gesture. Blix obligingly flings himself across the room, bounces off the wall, and plays dead on the desk.

  Ronan hops up and runs over to check on him, looking worried. Blix sits up grinning.

  Yeah, we’re far too happy right now. Something bad’s on the way.

  5

  Light Anomalies

  My class on Thursday doesn’t start until eight, so I have time to hang with the family for dinner.

  Ronan’s eating here tonight for reasons. Nothing bad. He just likes hanging out with Sam. Given the sign-on bonus his mother got at her new job, she already put in and finished her two weeks’ notice at the old place. You know her former boss pretended to be shocked she left for better pay. Pretty sure he only tried to guilt her into staying.

  After dinner, Dad whips out Dragonslayer, another Eighties movie.

  I’ve got about an hour left before its time for me to head to school. At least I finished that essay on chaos, even if I waited for the day before it’s due to start on it. Professor Heath gave us the whole class period last week to work on it, but all I’d managed to come up with in the room was two dozen horrible opening lines, all of which I crossed out.

  Ronan and Sam flop on the floor. Sophia wedges herself between me and Mom on the sofa. Blix sits on the sofa arm closer to the recliner, Klepto draped over his head like a kitten mohawk. Sierra joins Dad in his recliner… and we all bask in another session of Eighties cheese. Dad puts on Dragonslayer. Though, this one doesn’t look bad. Merely dated. As soon as the movie opens with villagers chaining a young woman to a post for a sacrifice, Sierra begins glaring. It’s really an amazing bit of self-control on her part not to yell about movies never having young men being fed to dragons.

  The Littles all emit a hopeful gasp when the woman slips out of the manacles… and groan when the dragon gets her anyway.

  It’s a bit much for Sierra.

  “Why do they always have girls act so stupid? Run in circles, trip, stand there looking clueless. Cower in front of a giant rock right in plain sight?” Sierra rolls her eyes. “This is stupid.”

  “Yeah,” says Sam. “She could’a got away. And why do
they always have to make dragons look dumb and evil?”

  “Stop making fun of me.” Sierra scowls. “I’m serious.”

  “Not making fun of you. Dragons are supposed to be super smart. Why would it just breathe fire on a lady and kill her? Now he’s still gonna be lonely. How come they never have a movie where a dragon takes the princess and, like, they become friends or something?”

  Sierra stares at him like she can’t quite figure out if he’s serious or mocking her for complaining about the treatment of women in fiction.

  I gesture at the screen. “She did kinda stand there like an idiot. Thought they were going to subvert the trope when they had her escape the manacles and save herself… but foom.”

  “People don’t think right when they’re terrified.” Mom sips her chamomile tea.

  My mother’s not an alcoholic, but when work is stressing her out, she has a glass of red wine after dinner. Tea means she’s in a good mood.

  “We saw a giant multi-headed nope monster,” says Sierra, “and Sarah didn’t lose her mind.”

  Dad pauses the movie.

  “Princesses aren’t vampires.” Sophia shrugs. “Not every girl’s a badass.”

  “Says the girl who screamed her head off when the nope monster came after us,” mumbles Sierra.

  Sophia shoots her a ‘give me a break’ stare. “You screamed, too.”

  “I’m a kid. Huge monsters aren’t supposed to exist.” Sierra gestures at the screen. “The woman in the movie lives in a world where people know about dragons. She shouldn’t be freaked out when she sees one.”

  “Hmm.” Dad pats her on the shoulder. “If someone handcuffed you to a pole to feed a tiger, and the tiger showed up, how calm would you be? We know about tigers. They’re not supernatural.”

  Sierra huffs.

  “But, I get what you’re saying.” Dad smiles. “Hollywood does tend to overuse the damsel in distress thing.”

  “At least this princess had a real dress on.” Sierra folds her arms.

  “I don’t think she’s supposed to be a princess. Just a village lady.” Sam jumps up. “Popcorn?”

  “We just ate dinner.” Mom gawks at him.

  “So?” Sam blinks. “It’s movie time. Tradition.”

  “Boys… where does he put it all?” Mom sighs. “All right.”

  Grinning, my brother dashes off to the kitchen, throws popcorn in the microwave, and runs back. Dad unpauses the movie. Two-ish minutes later, the microwave beeps.

  “Don’t gotta pause it,” yells Sam while running to collect the popcorn.

  I keep checking my phone to avoid being late. At 7:22 p.m., a flicker of soft blue-white light catches my eye over by our living room window. A transparent orb about the size of an orange floats near the ceiling. Okay, odd. Another one appears hovering over the linoleum square by the front door—the only spot in the house approved for shoes. Three fade into existence in the dining room.

  “What the heck? Sophia? Are you making these?” I ask.

  “No,” replies my sister. “Not doing anything.”

  “Whoa.” Sierra points. “You didn’t summon them?”

  Sophia looks where she pointed. “Eep! No. I have no idea what they are.”

  “Mew,” says Klepto.

  Blix babbles.

  Sam jumps to his feet. “They’re trying to get Soph! Look out!”

  Dad lifts Sierra off his lap to sit on the recliner arm and stands. “How do you know that? They’re just kinda hanging there glowing.”

  “Klepto said.” Sam gestures at the kitten.

  “The cat talks?” Mom eyes her tea as if regretting it not being wine.

  “Sorta. Blix can understand her,” says Sam. “And I can understand Blix.”

  Sophia looks over at the kitten. “Oh, I get it.”

  “What?” yells everyone else.

  “Those lights feel scary, like I should run away from them. But it’s kinda stupid to be scared of lights. Kinda like how it’s lame to have a giant pom-pom as a nightmare. I think Klepto’s trying to warn me by feels.”

  “Mew,” says the kitten.

  Blix babbles.

  “Yeah.” Sam nods at her. “Klepto can’t talk to you, but she can send feelings.”

  “Hmm, really?” Dad scratches his chin. “Wizard’s familiars can speak.”

  I stand. “Dad, you’re forgetting a couple things. One, we’re not in a roleplaying game. Two, Sophia’s not a wizard. She’s a… something else.”

  “Truth.” Sierra laughs.

  More orbs appear, bringing the total up to about twenty-five. They all hang still, not pulsating, not drifting. Their presence doesn’t make me feel ‘watched’ like ghosts do, but the air does seem charged. A taste like licking pennies settles on my tongue. Ugh, this is going to get complicated, isn’t it? At least tonight’s class is Professor Heath’s. He’ll accept weird paranormal things as an excuse for lateness. No way can I leave in the middle of something like this.

  “Wow. I haven’t seen a light show like this since the Pink Floyd concert in ’89,” says Dad.

  Mom scrunches her face in thought. “I don’t remember there being a light show there.”

  “There was for me.” Dad winks.

  “You’ve taken LSD?” whispers Mom, sounding scandalized.

  Whoa. Have my parents been replaced by pod people?

  Dad chuckles. “Nah, just pulling your leg.”

  “They look like the glowy things from those ghost hunter shows.” Sierra turns in place, looking at them. “So many.”

  Sam carefully places the popcorn bowl on the coffee table. “Light anomalies aren’t this bright or this large, and they don’t sit still.”

  “Dear,” says Mom. “Did you annoy a faerie?”

  I almost laugh. “Already asked her that. Not as far as she knows.”

  “Since when do you believe in faeries?” whispers Dad.

  “Right around the time I witnessed a teleporting kitten.” Mom gets up. “Suppose I should get the frying pan.”

  Blix gasps, feigning fear.

  Two orbs launch themselves at Sophia. They’re fast, but I’m faster. Unfortunately, getting to her before them requires a flying tackle. My sister collapses over me like a cloth bag full of broken broom handles, limp and bony. We land on the floor behind the couch, the light smears whizzing over us. A dining room orb hanging in midair in front of us zips for her while she’s pinned under me.

  So, I do the first logical thing to come to mind… roll over and throw her upward. My reflexes in ‘combat mode’ make the world feel like it’s slowed down. It’s totally a cheat code for getting into fights with normal people… or playing video games. Sophia, spinning horizontally, rises over the attacking orb. My aim is slightly off. The girl’s a touch lighter than I give her credit for, so she hits the ceiling—which I hadn’t intended. Not too bad though. She makes contact flat on her back, facing down at the floor, but not hard enough to hurt her or even dent the drywall.

  Sam manages to jump in front of another orb going for where Sophia no longer is. The light ball hits him and vanishes, apparently doing nothing. Fearing it might’ve possessed him, I keep my attention on him as Sophia peels off the ceiling and falls. Dad yells ‘be right back,’ his voice dragged down to demonic tones in my accelerated perception. He slow-mo runs to the stairs. My little brother squirms, making a face like he soiled his pants. The light ball zooms out his back and resumes circling.

  Mom puts herself in the path of another orb racing to crash into Sophia, who’s still falling.

  I catch and gently redirect my kid sister to the sofa. She bounces off the cushions, pops up to her feet, and runs like hell. Orbs chase her while she races in circles around the living room screaming ‘go away.’ Having no better ideas, I extend my claws and rake at one. My fingers get a brief, irritating shock, but my attack has no apparent effect on the orb.

  A group of three go for Sophia from the side.

  Again, I launch myself like
Supergirl over the couch and fly into her from behind, scooping her up out of the way. Quarters are a bit cramped, but I can zoom around in here faster than she can run. The orbs don’t appear capable of keeping up with me.

  Dad returns wearing a red tie headband and carrying his ren-fest sword. No idea what he hopes to accomplish with it. The blade isn’t even close to sharp, nor is it magical.

  “Cutting them won’t do anything!” I wiggle my claws at him.

  Undeterred, my father rushes into battle like Conan of Suburbia. He slices wildly at the dancing orbs. I’m about to shake my head at him, but he finally hits one—and the orb dissipates in a flash of sparks. A tiny lightning bolt runs up the sword into his hand, making his hair frizz up. He goes wide eyed as if he’d snorted an entire pound of cocaine.

  “Oh, boy… Yes!” Dad laughs maniacally, then yells, “I like it!”

  I’m sure he’s doing an impression of something from a movie I haven’t seen.

  “How the heck did you kill one?” I yell, while flying in a tight orbit around the living room.

  “Stop!” yells Sophia. “I’m gonna puke!”

  Three orbs coming at us from the left miss by inches and end up hitting Sierra—who vanishes.

  Mom screams.

  “Metal! Grounds them. Warning. Tingles a little,” yells Dad, right before slicing another one and doing a Woooo worthy of Ric Flair. Sparks dance up his hair.

  “Sierra!” shouts Mom.

  Sam and Ronan run upstairs.

  A bizarre noise I can only describe as listening to a stomach gurgle in slow motion comes from near the front window. Sierra reappears, spit out of a hole in reality, sliding on her chest across the carpet. The breach closes as abruptly as it appeared, gone in less than a second. I didn’t see much but grey on the other side, like stone.

  Mom rushes to pick Sierra up, but the girl’s too fast for her and sprints to the kitchen. The boys come back downstairs carrying metal baseball bats.

  Sophia heaves.

  Oops. Guess she didn’t say ‘I’m gonna puke’ for dramatic effect. Repeated, tight, forty-mile-an-hour circles has upset her stomach. I slow and set her on the sofa. She swoons, inches from throwing up. Mom finally gives in and runs to the kitchen to grab the iron skillet. Dad hits a third orb, cackling like an insane man. What the hell? Are these things made from highly concentrated energy drink?