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

by Cox, Matthew S.

  “Mew,” says Klepto.

  Sophia wipes her face. “She thinks I can do it, too.”

  “Because you can. You’re phobic. Can’t help being scared of it, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “Yeah it is. Fuzzydoom’s a silly giant puff ball. What kind of chicken would be afraid of him?” She takes a deep breath.

  “A magic puffball with a killing touch. Sometimes it’s the weird stuff that’s scary. C’mon. Someone’s going to walk out and try to pet him.”

  Sophia widens her stance, raises both arms, and stares at Fuzzydoom. She’s still trembling faintly. “Go back.”

  “Through the portal,” I add.

  “Go back through the portal.” Sophia leans forward, ‘pushing’ at the air like she did before when the mystics enchanted her closet.

  Fuzzydoom stops advancing. His tiny wings beat faster, straining against some invisible force pushing him away. Sophia emits a growl only slightly more menacing than Klepto’s. The giant puffball zooms off into a streak of black and zips into our hotel room. A loud boom follows, heavy enough to shake the entire building.

  She lowers her arms. “Whew. I did it. He’s gone. Guess I’m not powerful enough to teleport us yet.”

  I ruffle her hair. “Seems. So, umm… can we save the giant pom-pom of death for a real emergency?”

  “This isn’t?” She raises an eyebrow at me.

  “Well… a real emergency where something needs to die. Something Fuzzydoom is capable of catching, like if a ninety-nine-year-old killer using a walker limped after us.”

  She rolls her eyes. “He’s scary!”

  “I believe you. C’mon, let’s stay out of sight. It’ll be dark out soon.”

  “Okay.”

  We return to the room and shut the door. She sits on the bed, staring guiltily down at the floor, swishing her feet back and forth. Grr. She doesn’t feel right about leaving the mystics to fend for themselves. Did Sophia really believe Asher’s claim she could do something a whole group of practiced mystics can’t?

  Whatever. I’d rather have her glum for a bit than hurt or dead.

  10

  Wardrobe Dysfunction

  Hello, Darkness my old friend.

  Red light in my eyes paints a brief glow on the hotel room ceiling as I come online. Sophia’s stretched out on the bed, watching another kid’s movie about cute trolls.

  “Time to get going.”

  “’Kay,” says Sophia.

  I grab my phone and call the parents, again on speakerphone. “Hey. I’m finally awake. On the way to the store now.”

  “What about taking a mirror?” asks Mom.

  “Uhh.” Sophia shakes her head. “No way. We’re super far. We’d definitely get lost or eaten on the way. Crossing ocean areas is like really, really bad.”

  “How bad?” I ask.

  “Like being a level six character going right to the endgame zones in WoW bad.” She shivers. “Mr. Anderson said even Blix couldn’t use mirrors to cross the ocean.”

  “Yeah, don’t do that,” says Dad.

  “Oh.” I cringe. “Never mind. I don’t feel like playing chicken with C’thulu.”

  “I hear he’s got a lousy poker face. Third tentacle from the left twitches every time he bluffs.” Dad chuckles.

  I grin. “Okay. We’re gonna head out. I’ll call again from the airport.”

  “All right, dear,” says Mom. “I’ll try to worry only a lot instead of having a complete meltdown.”

  “Situation is under control, Mom.” I exhale. “Talk soon.”

  We hang up.

  “Umm…” Sophia stares at me. “I’m barefoot in a nightie. I can’t get on a plane like this. Someone’s going to call the cops.”

  “Sorry… Yeah, I meant go to the airport by way of a store. You had to be cold out there.”

  She hugs herself, shivering. “Freezing. Sorry.”

  “Why are you apologizing?”

  “For not saying anything about being cold before. You looked really angry. I didn’t want you to snap at me.”

  “Aww…” I pull her into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

  “What for?” wheezes Sophia.

  I stop squeezing her so tight. “For the way I used to snap at you sometimes. You know a lot has, uhh, changed with me and it’s put everything in a totally different perspective. I promise I’ll never snap at you again.”

  She leans back, smiling at me, half her face hidden under a wall of hair. “I know you didn’t really mean it before. Mom says mean stuff sometimes when she’s upset at her job. It happens.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t deserve to be snapped at. And I didn’t even have a stressful job. Just teenage BS.”

  “Am I gonna have teenage BS, too?”

  “Probably, but you won’t suffer the same symptoms. Sierra will be more like I was. You won’t snap at anyone. Probably just start crying and make everyone around you feel like an ogre for being mean.”

  Sophia stares at me, then bursts into tears.

  Of course, she’s faking it.

  “Hah.” I squeeze her.

  “I don’t cry at everything.”

  “No, you don’t. But you’re really sensitive and sweet and empathetic. When you get a little older, the world’s gonna start hitting you where it hurts. If you ever get so sad you want to crawl under your bed and never come out, please talk to me, kay?”

  “Umm… you’re making me scared to get older.”

  “Don’t be scared. I’ll always be there to help you with anything.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yep.”

  She holds up a pinky.

  I hook mine through hers.

  We pinky swear.

  “Ready to hit the store?”

  “Yeah. And can we get dinner?”

  “Sure.”

  Again, I take hold of Sophia’s hand. We leave the hotel room and go down the stairs. Poor kid is already shivering by the time we reach the lobby. Five seconds outside, her teeth start chattering. I try to move fast, following the navigation app on my phone toward Marks & Spencer. Being it’s much earlier in the evening than 6:30-or-so a.m. when we arrived, there are a lot more people out and about. Everyone who notices Sophia in a nightie and me going barefoot as well on slush-coated streets stares at us. Wanting as little disruption as possible, I prod everyone I see to forget noticing us the same way I dealt with being stranded out in Woodinville naked my first full night as a vampire.

  It’s quite a bit easier for me here, though. Not only am I much more comfortable using my abilities, simply being barefoot in the winter isn’t embarrassing at all, hence doesn’t distract me. The sidewalk is mostly clear, save for some patches of slick ice. Freezing slush doesn’t bother me to step on since body heat and me have a strange relationship. I do, however, pick Sophia up so she doesn’t have to put her feet in snow. Frostbite bad.

  By the time we reach the department store, I’m already feeling the effects of using mental powers constantly. Definitely going to need to stop for a bite on the way to the airport. This store has too many people, and probably cameras.

  We go straight to the girls’ clothing section, trying to avoid contact with as many people as possible. Anyone who notices Sophia gets a quick prod to see her wearing a normal outfit… and dammit. I should’ve suggested she use an illusion of proper clothes. Would’ve saved me a lot of work.

  She picks out a dress, black tights, socks, and a new pack of underpants since she’s been wearing the current ones for two days in a row. The stuff is a bit overpriced, but we’re in a pinch. I also get Sophia a winter coat—she insists on pink—and myself a passable pair of sneakers and white socks. Also, places like this have so much security, if I gave the clerk a compulsion forcing her to give us store credit, she’d get fired or possibly prosecuted.

  No big deal… I whip out my authorized user card and legit buy the clothes. While the clerk rings us up, I text Mom an explanation for the charge so she doesn’t call the
bank and dispute it, or answer ‘no’ to the ‘did you make this purchase?’ text she’s about to receive. A sudden use in London is certainly going to trigger an alert.

  Sophia runs to the dressing rooms to change.

  Yeah, I’ve also been wearing the same clothes for two days, but considering the prices here, I’ll deal with feeling a tad funky. Also, supernatural weirdness is going on. Buying new clothes would only jinx me into ending up clawed to shreds.

  My sister emerges from the dressing room having changed, carrying her wadded-up nightgown. I stuff it in my purse for now and lead her outside. We still get the occasional funny look, but they’re directed at me for not having a winter coat. Neither one of us looks grubby enough to appear as vagrants, probably why no one’s come up to talk and check on us. Frustratingly, every time I peek at someone’s thoughts, they think I’m like fourteen or fifteen and being an idiot for going outside sans coat. Swear, if I hear ‘that smartass kid’s gonna get sick and not feel so untouchable’ one more time…

  “Where are we going?” whispers Sophia.

  “The airport. Gonna grab a taxi.” I pick a direction at random and walk.

  She hurries along beside me. “Can we get food?”

  “Yeah… my plan exactly. I’m feeling a bit drained after all the mental poking. Could really use someone to eat.”

  Sophia giggles.

  Wow… my adorable little sister laughing at the idea of me biting someone is beyond creepy.

  11

  Something We Shouldn’t be doing

  Navigating an unfamiliar city while hungry, trying not to freak out, and in a hurry sucks.

  Speaking of sucking, my hunt for a taxi takes a backseat to finding a meal. Sophia’s hungry, too. But for one thing, she doesn’t consume blood; two, most airports have a food court. Easier to get her something once we’re there and I no longer need to panic about not knowing which way to go.

  Also, trying to get this done as fast as possible is frustrating. Might be simpler to try the old ‘pretending to make out in public’ thing than go for complete privacy. I’m seconds away from pouncing on some poor slob and dragging him bodily into a secluded place when I notice a man surreptitiously slip into an alley leading a tiny dog on a leash while looking around to make sure no one noticed him.

  Aha. I’ve located a serial dog-poo-not-picker-upper.

  Sophia stops to stand watch at the alley entrance. The little dog—which might be a shih tzu cross bred with a Pomeranian—stops sniffing for a spot to let fly and stares at me as I approach. Much like the dog-walker, I’m slipping into an alley to get away with something most people would object to. At least in my case, no one is going to step in the aftereffects and ruin their carpet.

  The man jumps, startled by my presence. He offers a polite nod, despite giving off the kind of awkwardness more appropriate for being caught trying to break into a place. Guess the Brits take errant dog poo seriously. He starts to tug the little dog out of the alley, but freezes the instant my mental influence seeps into his brain.

  At that, the tiny dog begins to growl at me.

  Klepto leaps from Sophia’s arms and emits a war screech similar to a balloon with a slow leak. The poor dog takes off, paws skittering on the pavement. Klepto chases it around, keeping the little beast occupied while I make a meal of the guy.

  Blood thick with the flavor of fried fish spills into my mouth. Gee, thanks, Dad. He had to mention fish and chips and put it in my brain. Suppose I’m technically having British food, so, whatever. I take my fill, which isn’t enough to threaten the man’s health, extract my fangs, and seal the bite wound. Licking the last bits of blood off someone’s neck used to feel as awkward and inappropriately intimate as an unexpected butt-pat from a total stranger. Guess I’m becoming a real vampire since it no longer bothers me.

  “Mmm!” Sophia’s muffled scream comes from behind me.

  I whirl, expecting to chase down and beat the shit out of some creep carrying her off. Instead, I find three punks—two women and a man—glaring at me as if they caught me selling drugs on their turf. The guy holding Sophia appears to be the oldest, somewhere in his later twenties. Leather jacket, short mohawk, jeans. The girl on his right is a little on the butch side, also a bit younger than him. She’s rocking the jeans-and-wifebeater look, giving me a ‘are you serious’ sort of smirk. The other girl’s the youngest by appearance, maybe eighteen or nineteen. Blonde, and too pretty for her anarchist half-tee and shredded jeans. Girl looks more like an affluent socialite dressing up as a gang thug for Halloween.

  As soon as I really look at them, it’s obvious they’re vampires. Can’t tell bloodline by sight—except for Shadows—but their outfits suggest Lost Ones. None of the three appear to be carrying weapons. Their body language puts me on edge, though. Feels like I’ve been caught doing something mildly illegal by a trio of questionable security guards who are about to take great delight in exerting their authority over me. I’m expecting abuse of some kind, verbal, physical, or something darker… only the blonde seems a bit too innocent in the face for this encounter to end up being twisted.

  Then again, I’m basically the super-sheltered suburban girl. What the heck do I know about gangs, especially gangs in London made up of vampires? A woman who looks like a grown version of Sophia might still be a sadistic freak.

  The dude with his hand over Sophia’s mouth appears to be exerting zero effort holding her off the ground. Sure, she—like most of the Wright family—is skinny as heck, but she’s more substantial than a styrofoam cutout. Granted, he’s a vampire, so I’m not surprised he’s stronger than he looks. He steps closer, giving me an up and down appraising smirk. “Well, well. What ’ave we ’ere?”

  “A guy in a fake leather jacket using a line from a 1960s evil mastermind?” I ask, eyebrow up.

  Both women snicker.

  “Oi, luv. I’ll ’ave ya know this is real leather.”

  “Sorry, the shininess threw me off. Mind putting her down?”

  The blonde walks over. I edge back from her, trying not to let them surround me. She mostly ignores me, approaching the guy I fed from.

  “Go on home,” she whispers, patting him on the cheek.

  The man fast-walks out of the alley, the tiny dog scurrying after him.

  Klepto appears in a flash on the male vampire’s arm, biting the thumb of the hand covering my sister’s mouth.

  “Gah, blimey!” blurts the guy. “Little blighter came outta nowhere.”

  “Best put her down before the kitten gets angry,” I deadpan.

  “You got some balls on you,” says the other woman. “Waltzing into the city unannounced. What’s your purpose here? Who are you spying for?”

  Sophia stops struggling and dangles limp, her huge blue eyes fixed on me.

  “Umm… What?” I fold my arms. “I’m not spying.”

  “’Ow’d ya even get inta the city wi’out bein’ seen?” asks the guy. “Yer obviously not as ’armless as ya look.”

  I hold my hands up in a ‘slow down’ gesture. “Back up a bit. I’m not here to cause any trouble. First of all, we didn’t ask to be here. We got kidnapped. And what do you mean by unannounced? Does London have call-ahead feeding or something?”

  The blonde laughs. “She smells new. Maybe she really didn’t know?”

  “Wild one? From Wales maybe?” asks the brown-haired woman.

  “At’s not a Welsh accent, Joanie, this one’s a Yank,” says the blonde.

  Klepto continues to furiously gnaw on the man’s thumb.

  “No, I’m not from Wales.”

  “Whatever, lass.” The guy shakes his head. “Can’t go just traipsin’ inta’ the city wi’out presentin’ yerself first thing ta Mr. Corley. Ya get a one-night grace period, and ya didn’t do et.”

  “Honestly, I have no idea who Mr. Corley even is. I’m not from around here, and we’re not going to stay long. We’re on our way to the airport right now.”

  The blonde sidles up to me
. “Where ya from, luv?”

  “You had it right. The US. Seattle.” I look at the dude. “Would you please put her down already?”

  He does.

  Sophia runs over and clings to me.

  “She is adorable,” says the blonde.

  “C’mon, luv.” The guy steps closer, but doesn’t try to grab me. “You should deal with this now. Runnin’ off won’t look good. Already in a bit of shite. No sense makin’ it worse.”

  If my mother heard the number of F-bombs going off in my head at the moment, she’d faint. There’s a 6000-swear per minute F-bomb rotary machine gun firing full blast in my cerebrum. All I want to do is go the heck home and we’re about to get dragged into some political BS. Worse, Aurélie has no influence here at all. I have to assume even mentioning her could bite me in the ass. While she’s easily flighty enough to randomly move to the United States on a whim, it’s also possible she had reasons more pressing than simple distaste for overbearing rules.

  “Seattle, huh?” asks Joan, the sorta-butch woman with short, brown hair.

  “Yeah. I’m Sarah. This is Sophia.”

  “Meredith.” The blonde slaps the guy on the back. “He’s Kallen.”

  “Umm, so yeah. We ended up in London unexpectedly against our will. Could you guys maybe just tell this Mr. Corley person we made a wrong turn and are leaving?”

  Kallen sighs. “You really ought’a tell ’im yerself. Looks better on ya. If yer on the level, won’ take long t’all.”

  “Corley’s fair. Entering his city and ignoring him is a real big insult, but he’s not unreasonable.” Joan waves at me to follow her. “He is aware things aren’t the same in the US. Won’t hold it against you for not knowing. But ya know now.”

  Damn. Ashley thought I’d be miserable in California, alone, cut off from my friends, too far away from family for the safety net of my parents to be present. She might’ve had a point after all. The lack of Aurélie’s presence makes me feel vulnerable like I’m about to read a philosophy essay to a crowded amphitheater while naked. As vampires go, I’m still pretty new, and my bloodline isn’t known for vulgar displays of badassery.