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

by Cox, Matthew S.

  “Not the best night for admiring the stars.” Glim leans forward, peering past the rim of his umbrella. “Nature is much like people. Her rage conceals the true beauty under a cloak of darkness.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You have no rage this eve, but a cloak of worry weighs as heavy on your shoulders as the clouds hang in the sky.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Have you been sitting in on a poetry analysis class at SCC?”

  He chuckles. “No. Nights like this always put me in an odd mood. Give me a moment to think of a good line about undeath being unable to hide your true beauty.”

  “Aww, thanks, but I look like a drowned rat.”

  “I speak of the true beauty in your soul. Your concern for others… your innocence.”

  “Dad joke.”

  “Of course.” He sits up a little taller. “So, what brings you to my roof on such a lovely night?”

  “Someone’s after Sophia.” I explain what’s happened to her so far, and Heath’s suggestion it might be an Academic with mystical talents. “Do you know of any vamps in the area who use magic? Or someone who might have a serious problem with Aurélie?”

  He gazes across the parking lot at the living room window where his former wife and her present boyfriend sit together on the sofa watching TV. It’s amazing to me to see Glim love her so much he’s happy she’s moved on. I’ve offered to play ‘medium’ if he ever wanted or needed to communicate with her. He could stand right next to me and no one he didn’t want to see him would be able to. We’d have an easy time pretending to be a ghost and psychic. So far, he hasn’t wanted to bother her. The woman appears to be doing okay. No sense ripping open old wounds.

  “Nothing stands out in my mind, but I will surely look to see if any information is floating around. As far as I am aware, no vampires in the area dabble in mysticism. Most don’t even believe it’s real.” He glances sideways at me. “You should go home and warm up. Looking at you out here in a swimsuit is making me cold. And I lack body temperature.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nods.

  I exhale. Please still be home and safe. “Night.”

  “Good night, Sarah.”

  Gripping my backpack tight to my shoulder, I leap into the air and fly home as fast as I can—meaning as fast as I can go without the wind ripping my suit off.

  7

  The Closet Monster

  A bikini might not make for the most practical flight gear, but I have reasons.

  The wetsuit I bought a while ago is much better for bad-weather nights, but it’s also kinda cumbersome and difficult to stuff in a backpack. Not to mention, weird. Someone too far away for me to notice sees me out in a snowstorm wearing a bathing suit, they’ll think I lost a bet. Or I’m an idiot. Or one of those people in Russia who goes swimming in frozen lakes. A person running around the city in a wetsuit seems, I dunno, somehow more insane.

  Anyway, I arrived home a little before 10:30 without incident. Sophia had already gone to bed. Blix and Klepto both stood guard over her. When I peeked in on her, the imp saluted me. Another totally weird thing. On Halloween, my sisters set loose a crapload of imps. They all appeared to be exact copies of each other, but now… I’m sure I’d recognize Blix apart from any other imp.

  Since she looks safe, I head downstairs to my room, dry off, change into a tee and sweat pants, then unpack my still-dry clothes from the waterproof bag. Class tonight didn’t give out any additional homework, so I’m still current. Yay. I sit there in my room trying to come up with an idea for something to do until sunrise. Video games, movies, or TV are the obvious choices of time kill when I have no homework. Being a vampire back in the day must have completely sucked.

  Ugh. Unintentional dad joke. Bad Sarah.

  Speaking of Dad… he took multiple zaps from those orbs and kept right on going. Wow. I’m pretty sure my father has never been broken in half by a troll, impaled with rebar, stabbed repeatedly by rusty rapiers, shot, sliced up, clawed to ribbons… and so on. The zap from those orbs had a surprising amount of potency. Thinking about my father continuing to go after orbs after repeated shocks makes me want to run up there and hug him. I’ve got no explanation for how a computer geek whose idea of a good workout is carrying groceries in from the car managed to withstand it.

  Wow, dad. You rock.

  Back to boredom.

  What did vampires do before video games?

  Oh, that’s right, they impaled people like shish kebabs and decorated their castle grounds in rotting bodies, or stood like creeps in windows watching young women sleep. At least, they did those things if Hollywood is right. Maybe they read novels or lost themselves in philosophical discussions. Wait, fiction novels haven’t even been around all too long.

  Bleh. I have video games. Why worry about what they did in the 1400s?

  I sit at the computer and fire up Skyrim. Yeah, it’s old. So what?

  Before I know it, my iPhone alarm goes off. It’s set to ping fifteen minutes before sunrise. Can’t help but feel like sitting in my room playing video games is wasting time even if my family and friends are all sleeping. Maybe I ought to involve myself more in vampire goings-on.

  Nah.

  Well, more of a not yet than a nah. Maybe I will once the Littles grow up and I stop being a wimp. If Aurélie’s right about kid vampires’ brains remaining the same, my personality isn’t going to deviate much from where it is now. I’m always going to feel stuck halfway between an adult eager for independence and a kid afraid to go too far from home. Great. I’d almost rather be Sophia’s age. At least then, no one would laugh at me for being squishy. The Portland Lost Ones kinda teased me for not wanting to destroy people’s crap and play pranks. Maybe it’s not so much a question of immaturity on my part but of being too much of a goody.

  Bleh. Whatever. I’ll worry about it in the morning.

  Or afternoon.

  Friday begins at 2:39 p.m.

  At least, it does for me. I’ve mercifully avoided any significant ass-kickings for a while, so it’s starting to feel routine to wake up close to 2:30 in the afternoon. Though, if past experience is any sort of teacher, this gradual buildup of weird is going to end in a painful way. If I get lucky this time, maybe the pain will hit whoever’s messing with us, and not me.

  No cereal craving today, and skies are clear. Wouldn’t call it overly sunny, but it’s enough for me to stay in bed texting Ashley, Michelle, and Hunter. None of them respond with much more than an ‘in school’ or ‘can’t talk now.’ Grr.

  Sometimes, it’s wonderful to lie awake in bed knowing I don’t have to be anywhere for hours. It’s peaceful, at least until the Littles get home from school. Nothing sounds unusual about their arrival, but I still want to see them before they run off to friends’ houses or get absorbed in whatever they plan to do today. After trading my long sleeping tee for a plum sweater top and comfortable jeans, I nab the phone and head upstairs.

  Sam and Sierra rumble down from the second floor and raid the kitchen for snacks. I trail after them, trying to start a conversation. They had a reasonably okay day at school. Sierra goes to the living room for PlayStation time. Being it’s Friday, she’s going to put off doing homework until Sunday. Sam heads out the door with Ronan—who must have come through the mirror—on their way to Daryl’s. It’s relatively normal for Sophia not to come back downstairs right away after arriving home from school, but considering the events of the past few days, I go up to check on her anyway.

  She’s sprawled on her bed reading the mystic book. I sit on the edge, mostly to give her a sense of safety. My being here reassures her a great deal. Probably the exact opposite effect a vampire is supposed to have on a ten-year-old girl, right?

  Nothing unusual happened to her at school.

  Alas, today is one of my early two days for classes. First one being at six. At least winter plus Daylight Savings makes it dark out in time for me to fly. I spend as much time as possible with her before heading to class
around when Mom summons everyone for dinner. Tonight’s computer science and calculus.

  Fun times.

  Calc ends at 9:24 p.m., a bit early.

  Guess Dr. Mercer is feeling the holiday spirit. I make my way out of the building, an innocuous young woman among many normal college students. My age makes me stand out a little. Not too many eighteen-year-olds do night school. A few people look at me and wonder if I’m some sad case like a Lifetime movie where the parents died and the oldest sister has to become mom to the rest of the siblings, work a full time job, and is still trying to get a diploma at night.

  If anything ever happened to our parents and I had to take care of the Littles, one of two things would happen. I’d either beg Aurélie for enough money to see all three of them to adulthood, or I’d use my powers in every way possible to make damn sure the sibs had everything they needed. Knowing myself, I’d save begging as a last resort if I couldn’t deal with stuff myself. I may look like a kid, but begging is still kinda pathetic. Not so pathetic I wouldn’t swallow a humility pill for my siblings’ benefit if I had no other choice.

  I grab a quick bite on the way home—some middle-aged nerdy looking guy driving a green Saab. For some weird reason, his blood tastes like Boston crème donuts. Great. Thanks for a craving. Grr. What am I, pregnant? No, then I’d want a donut stuffed with pickles or something.

  Blech.

  I arrive home around 9:30 thanks to a stop at a Dunkin Donuts for an actual donut. Sierra and Sam, in their PJs, sit at the dining room table with Dad, playing a board game. Sophia’s not with them. Unusual, but no one seems upset. Dad’s clearly letting them stay up a bit past their bedtime for a Friday night. Maybe Sophia was tired and went to sleep already. Curious, I step out of my shoes before leaving the permitted zone, set my school bag on the floor, and head upstairs.

  Faint blue light on the carpet by her bedroom door is my first clue something’s wrong. It’s much dimmer than both previous times she turned Klepto into a literal ball of energy. Most kittens are balls of energy, but it’s supposed to be metaphorical. They don’t often glow.

  “Go away!” whispers Sophia. “Leave me alone.”

  “Crap.”

  Upon pushing the door open, I realize the light isn’t coming from the kitten. She’s her normal fuzzy grey self, growling—as much as such a tiny critter can growl—at the closet, the source of the blue light. Whatever’s going on there is pretty intense. The glow visible around the door is as bright as if it led to outside in the middle of a summer afternoon.

  Sophia’s standing by her bed, arms raised, palms pointed at the closet door. There’s no wind in the room, but her hair and nightgown billow about like she’s outside in the middle of a hurricane. Her expression shifts from ninety-percent fear, ten-percent confidence to about sixty-forty when she notices me.

  “Sare, they’re trying again… I think. Klepto started growling at the closet.”

  The tiny kitten emits a noise like a cell phone on vibrate sliding across a table.

  I cautiously approach the closet. Something inside whispers in a language so unfamiliar I’m not even sure what to call it. “Holy crap. You really do have a closet monster.”

  “It’s not stopping!” Sophia pushes at the air, stepping toward me while grunting and growling as if shoving a heavy object.

  In response to her approach, the light in the closet dims. The closer she gets, the weaker the glow. By the time she’s crossed the room from the bed to stand beside me, her closet once again looks normal. And the whispering stops. Pretty sure whispers in an ancient, forgotten tongue don’t belong in a ten-year-old’s closet. Maybe her enormous hoard of dolls finally decided to revolt against their queen. Oh, there’s a horrifying thought. What is it about dolls? Why are they so damn creepy? Especially in the dark… or when they move on their own.

  Sophia lowers her arms and scoots behind me. “Make sure it’s gone.”

  Klepto squeezes between Sophia’s ankles, still attempting to growl at the closet.

  “Are you sure opening this door is a good idea?” I reach hesitantly for the knob.

  “No. But not looking might be bad, too.”

  “Do you feel anything strange?” I shift my eyes toward her.

  She stares fixedly at the door, much like a mouse waiting for the cat to make the first move. “Yeah.”

  I stop turning the knob. “What?”

  “Something’s tickling my legs.”

  I hang my head and sigh. “Look down. It’s your cat.”

  “Oh. Sorry,” whispers Sophia.

  “Right. One dead closet monster coming up.”

  I open the door to reveal a rectangular wall of perfect blackness. Klepto’s teeny growl cuts off to a ‘mrr?’, the kitten version of WTF.

  “Last time I checked, we’re not in a video game. Why do you have a void of infinite darkness in your closet? Does Mom know about this?”

  “It’s not mine. I swear.” Sophia clings to me from behind. “I don’t know how it got there.”

  “Well, you know Mom and Dad aren’t going to react well to you hiding dimensional rifts.” I scratch the back of my head. Honestly? I think this will bother them less than if they find adult magazines in Sam’s room when he’s sixteen, even though what’s going on here is far less natural.

  “I didn’t do it. It’s not mine,” whisper-whines Sophia. “Is it Narnia?”

  “No. This is far too black and featureless. It’s even emptier than the brain of a flat-Earther.”

  Sophia giggles.

  “I’m not sure it’s anything.” I stare into the abyss, but it’s not looking back at me. “Actually, I think it’s nothing.”

  “Huh?” she peers up at me.

  “In computer science, there’s this concept called null. It’s like the representative existence of nothingness somehow capable of occupying space.”

  “Kim Kardashian?” asks Sophia.

  Right as I start to laugh, an invisible force slams into me from behind and hurls me—and Sophia—into the void. Bracing for impact with a wall of onyx glass is useless, as I go right through it, like jumping out the hatch of a starship lost in deep space. Only, no stars or anything else breaks up the endless nothingness. Strong light illuminates my body, Sophia, and Klepto, but has no apparent source.

  My sister’s mouth is wide open. She has to be screaming, but this place is perfect in its silence. I can’t even hear myself breathing. After a moment of hanging motionless, my stomach lurches… the only clue to indicate we’re moving again. Best guess, we plummet straight down for a few seconds, pull out of the dive to horizontal flight for a while longer than we fell, then swerve to rocket straight upward.

  Finally, a break appears in the endless black everywhere… a round hole above us. It’s as if we’re riding a rocket-powered elevator going up inside an old timey water well. There’s barely enough time to mentally process the opening before we reach it—and our motion stops in an instant, leaving us standing in the middle of a big, rectangular room. Large, irregular stone walls make me think castle basement. Oh, wait. They call those ‘dungeons.’

  Eight people surround us in a circle, all wearing black robes with voluminous hoods obscuring most of their faces. Cold under my feet confirms the floor is stone as well, probably underground. We haven’t taken a step… so what had an instant before been a yawning hole into infinite nothingness has become solid. The scent of damp stone, glue, and paper lurks under an aromatic bouquet like we’ve landed in a specialty herbal tea shop.

  Sophia clings tighter to me. Klepto vibrates, err, I mean growls.

  I glance around at the people, none of whom do anything or move. The vast room we’ve been brought to is relatively empty. It reminds me of the stereotypical ‘inn basement full of giant rats’ from an old fantasy video game—except instead of torches, it’s got electric lights. To our left and right, long tables against the walls hold jars of glowing substances, books on stands, candles, a few skulls, and a taxidermy raven as
big as a five-year-old kid.

  “Uh oh,” whispers Sophia.

  The robed figures exchange glances, seemingly caught off guard by me being here.

  “Mew! Mrow!” says Klepto.

  Got a feeling she said, ‘anyone touches Sophia and I’ll rip your face off.’

  Agreed.

  I may not strike the most imposing figure in a loose white top, jeans, barefoot, and having a childish face… but clothes don’t make the vampire. Even if it hadn’t been dark out, these idiots were obliging enough to drag us into an underground room with no windows. Extending my claws, I step in front of Sophia and emit a low growl, closer to an angry mountain lion than a sound produced by a human my size.

  “Whoever you are, you just kidnapped the wrong little girl.”

  Sophia gasps.

  Klepto hisses and spits. The little fuzzball glances at me with a look of ‘yeah, let’s kick some ass. It’s claw time.’

  “Might wanna close your eyes, Soph.”

  8

  Soulbound

  There isn’t much in the world capable of making me want to kill complete strangers.

  Kidnapping or hurting my family, however, does it. I’d say sudden exposure to bright sunlight is another, but there’s no ‘want’ involved there. Only knowing these people sent Sierra back unhurt keeps me from having a psycho-kitty claw freakout on them. I’m still tempted, but my hesitation, hoping intimidation might work and spare me the future guilt of murdering people, gives them a chance to speak.