Blood Born

by Jamie Manning

  “That way,” he had said as we drove to his house in his so-in-need-of-a-paint-job truck, “if she does get mad, she won’t have time to yell at me before school.” He smiled when he said it, and even though icy air was circling me in the frigid cab of his truck—I was getting some feeling back in my skin—I felt warm inside. I had agreed, on the condition that it would only be a temporary solution to my sudden housing problem. I planned on figuring out something else ASAP.

  For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, I woke up in a strange place. This time, though, I felt calm and rested. And totally comfortable thanks to Chance, who proved that guys are chivalrous by offering me his bed and taking the couch. I stretched my arms wide, soaking up the early sun slicing through the sheer curtains hanging over the window behind me. Its warmth made me feel alive, which was so ironic seeing as how I technically was dead. Well, I don’t know if dead was the right word. Maybe half dead? Can a person be half dead? Another question to add to my ever-growing list.

  I climbed out of Chance’s super-soft bed and carefully maneuvered my clumsy body across the room through the early morning haze of light and darkness. Chance’s room was what I imagined would be a typical teenage guy’s—complete with clothes strewn about—and I felt a twinge of jealousy that I apparently never had that. According to Aldric, I was an unwanted child who had been cast aside like an old newspaper. I pushed thoughts of the woman who abandoned me from my mind and left the room. Out in the hallway, I peered over the banister at Chance sleeping below. Somehow, maybe with the pale yellow light of the sun that had begun to peek through the windows, he looked even more beautiful and perfect than he did last night under the moonlight. I felt my stomach flutter as a smile spread across my face. It felt so nice knowing that he was there for me, even though I still didn’t understand why. I slowly made my way to the bathroom down the hall, trying my best not to make the floor creak as I walked. As I showered and dressed, my mind went over the past day of my life.

  I was a half vampire, half human hybrid-thingy—I so needed to find a shorter word for what I was—I had to kill one hundred vampires to save my soul, and my new, and apparently only, friend was so hot I could barely stand being in his presence for fear of throwing myself at him. Now to top it off, I was about to step foot in a new school where I was positive I would just fit right in. Sure.

  I finished up with readying myself for the rest of hell-week—I came up with that name while showering—when a sweet and familiar scent invaded my head. Blood. New blood. Oh crap. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, trying to focus on anything other than that intoxicating scent as it drew closer and closer to me. When the smell was too much to bear, I swung open the bathroom door to find the source and ran into the one person I had been hoping to avoid.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, backing away and giving Chance’s mom a quick once over to make sure I hadn’t inadvertently gotten toothpaste or makeup on her clothes. All seemed well. At least with her outfit.

  “Who are you?” she asked, anger woven into her words. She stood a good foot taller than me, with long brown hair falling in large, perfect curls that framed her porcelain skin. I instinctively brought a hand to my own brown hair, feeling its coarseness against my skin. A pair of emerald eyes, just like her son’s, with expertly-crafted brows sat atop a petite nose and full, pink lips. I was so jealous.

  “I-I’m—“

  “She’s a friend, Mom,” I heard Chance’s voice from the hallway. “Ease up.” He said it lightly, but apparently with just enough conviction to tame his mother; she stepped to the side and Chance joined us in the bathroom doorway.

  Last night in the cemetery I could tell beneath the shirt he had been wearing that Chance was physically fit. But now, seeing him standing shirtless in front of me, I was way off on my estimation as to exactly how fit; he was perfect. Well-defined muscles created a body that would make even Hollywood’s leading men jealous (yep, TV again). I found it impossible to believe that he was single. Great personality on top of fashion magazine looks? No way he didn’t have a girlfriend. Not that it mattered to me. At least I didn’t think it did. I felt my face turn blood red, which instantly made me mad. Why couldn’t the fact that I get embarrassed easily be one of the things I lost in my new unlife? Ugh. Chance obviously noticed my rosy cheeks. He smiled wickedly and stepped past his mother, planting his sweet-smelling self directly between us.

  “This is Ava,” he said to his mother, his back to me. I watched the muscles in his neck twitch as he spoke. “She’s an old friend who moved back to town, so I told her she could crash here last night. It’s cool, right?” I half expected Chance’s mom to climb the walls and spit fire from her full lips, but she didn’t. She simply smiled and leaned into give her son a peck on the cheek.

  “Okay, sweetheart. You be careful going to school. Nice to meet you, Ava.” And then she was gone. Luckily I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror, so I was able to close my gaping mouth before Chance saw me. I mean, what had just happened? Either she was the coolest mom in the world, or she honestly wasn’t concerned with what her son was up to.

  “Um, how did you do that?” I asked, watching him intently as he stepped back into the doorway. Are all moms like this? I wondered. I really had no basis for comparison. I had no mother—at least no mother I could remember. And even if I could, Aldric said she hadn’t wanted me anyway.

  “I told you she’d be cool,” Chance replied, that sly smile still on his face. He ran a hand through his bed-head. “I’m gonna get out and let you finish up.”

  “I’m done,” I said, reaching out to stop him from closing the bathroom door. My hand brushed his arm and that same exciting heat shot through my hand and across my body, sending a shiver down my back.

  “You okay?” Chance asked with concern.

  “Yeah,” I said with a shaky voice. “Yeah, I’m good.” He smiled again and walked toward me. With the sink on one side and a wall on the other, I had nowhere to go.

  “Um, I kind of need to use the bathroom,” he said, now only inches from me. I could feel heat radiating off him. Just like last night.

  “Sorry,” I muttered under my breath as I scurried like a cockroach when the light comes on (another useless memory). I squeezed past him—holding my breath to avoid the urge to taste his blood—and practically jumped into the hallway. I sprinted to Chance’s room as fast as I could without seeming like a total loon, stealing a quick glance over my shoulder before going inside; the bathroom door was already closed. Wow, I seriously needed to get a grip.

  I waited patiently in his room for Chance to finish, and once he came out of the bathroom we were on the road and headed to school in less than five minutes. Anxious nerves were crawling all over me as we crossed town, making me feel nauseous. I kept my eyes glued out the window, trying my best not to think about what was coming.

  “Try not to worry,” Chance said. I jumped when he spoke, his deep voice slicing through the silence of his truck.

  “I’m not worried.”

  “You’re a terrible liar.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am.” I smiled and tried my best to look fine with the fact that I couldn’t be more scared about going to high-school. A new and unfamiliar high school on top of it.

  “So talk to me,” he said after a couple minutes of awkward silence.

  “About what?”

  “About why you’re worried.” He kept stealing glances at me from across the cab of the truck, the early sunlight bouncing off the jade of his eyes like crystals.

  “When you pulled me from that coffin,” I began, my nerves evident in my voice. “Your blood—”

  “I know,” Chance interrupted.

  “You do?”

  “Yeah.” He fell into a line of traffic obviously heading to school. “You smelled it, right?”

  “Yes.” I could feel the embarrassment creep into the muscles of my face. “And now, I don’t know if this is a smart thing for me to do.” I was of course referri
ng to walking into a building full of hormonal, emotional teenagers whose blood would no doubt drive me crazy.

  “You’ll be fine, Ava.” Chance said softly. “Remember, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

  “I think I might hold you to that this time.” For the first time since waking up in the cemetery, I was actually relying on him to be there for me; the feeling was a nice one.

  “You do that.” He pulled his eyes from the road once more and smiled at me. “And try to look at the bright side, okay?”

  “What bright side?” I asked.

  “With no memory of who you are, you can be anybody you want.”

  “I just want to be normal.” Chance nodded in agreement, but kept focused on the road. I tried to imagine myself being someone important or dignified or popular; anything but a blood-sucking monster trying to pass as human. Of course, being a vampire would probably come easier than fitting in as just an average teenager. I didn’t know which would be worse, but I was about to find out soon.

  McCarver High School looked how I had hoped but feared it wouldn’t; absolutely ordinary. A large, red brick building with tall windows and double-doors, surrounded by lush trees and a parking lot filling up with cars, was sprawled out before us as we turned in. I don’t know what exactly I had been expecting, but plain and un-intimidating wasn’t it. I let the air I had been holding captive escape from my lungs and actually calmed down a bit as Chance wheeled his truck into a space farthest from the building as possible. Not that I minded the walk—it would help me stay in shape, though I had a feeling hunting vampires was going to do plenty of that—but I found it a bit odd. With almost every space at the front of the building empty, why would he choose to park so far out? I didn’t have time to ponder an answer. We climbed—well I climbed, he just stepped out—from his truck and began the trek across the black-topped parking lot, the frigid winter air swirling around me in a frenzy. I could smell blood instantly, its alluring and inviting scent invading my senses like an alien being. I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced my mind to ignore it, which was difficult to say the least. My stomach was fighting my body for freedom, trying to climb its way out of my throat as my nerves came rushing back. I kept swallowing hard to force it back down.

  “Just relax,” Chance said, his voice deep and sexy and very calming. “You’ll be fine.” I felt his hand brush mine—almost like he wanted to hold hands—but quickly move away. Even that tiny touch made me shiver.

  “Promise?” I asked, sounding more like a child asking her dad if she was going to get a pony for Christmas.

  “Absolutely.”

  We entered the school mixed with a dense crowd of scrambling teenagers, Chance standing tall and wide, I with my breath held tightly in my chest. I wanted to wrap myself around his arm and let him guide me through the maelstrom, but I resisted. Even though he had saved my life and had given me no reason not to, I didn’t fully trust him. Not yet, anyway. So I kept to myself as the barrage of warm bodies mulled around me, voices and smells coalescing in my brain. Chance had been right; even though I could smell blood, it wasn’t overpowering my control. I was okay. So far.

  “You ready?” he asked just outside what I assumed was our first class. His voice was both calm and rushed at the same time. Obviously he wasn’t as laid back as he looked.

  “As I’ll ever be,” I answered, taking a couple of deep breaths. Chance opened the door and we walked in.

  The classroom looked as normal as the building itself: rows of desks filled with bored-looking students; a dusty chalkboard covering the entire front wall; floor-to-ceiling bookcases covering the back. I was so grateful for its plainness. I was also grateful there wasn’t a giant photo of me hanging from the ceiling with the words ‘New Girl’ emblazoned across it. I meekly followed Chance to the back row of desks and took a seat across from him. Most of the other students were busy with their own conversations, but I noticed a couple of faces pause to watch us enter. One of those faces, belonging to a pretty girl sitting next to me, was actually smiling.

  “I see you’ve already met the resident hunk,” she whispered as she leaned into me. “Isn’t he delicious?” She smiled and lifted her eyebrows in Chance’s direction, and because I didn’t want to be rude on my first day—yeah, that’s why—I agreed.

  “Yeah,” I whispered back, not wanting to say too much for fear of stepping on anything Chance may have said about who I was. I quickly regretted not asking him if he had already spread a back-story about me around campus. The girl obviously didn’t think twice about me; she was too focused on Chance.

  “That whole ‘loner’ thing he’s got going on is sooo hot.” She smiled again and sat upright in her chair. “I’m Lacey, by the way,” she added, tossing a rogue curl over her shoulder. I watched it fall in perfectly with the rest of her long blond hair.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, trying not to sound like a dweeb. I was self-conscious enough already, I didn’t need the prettiest girl in the room shunning me.

  “You too. Hope you like it here. If you need anything at all just ask, okay?” She spoke much louder on that last part, staring intensely at something just over the top of my head. Chance. She was checking to make sure Chance had heard her. I didn’t turn around to see if he had; I didn’t have to. The defeated look on her face answered for me. She replaced her frown with another smile—I got the impression she smiled a lot—and turned away from me, stepping into another conversation like she had been a part of it from the start.

  The rest of the hour was uneventful, other than having to answer when the teacher asked if I was present—which was more embarrassing than it should have been since my nerves made my voice crack. After that, I spent the remainder of class holding my breath, just waiting for Mr. Sampson to call me out if front of everyone. Luckily the bell rang before he got around to me, and I jumped up and followed Chance out of class just as I had followed him in, scared and cowering.

  Though I had expected it, I wasn’t fully prepared for the onslaught of new-student questions I was met with once in the hall: “Where are you from?” “Why did you move here?” “Are you serious with that outfit?” Okay, I hadn’t actually heard that last one yet, but I was positive it would be asked. The faded, obviously used jeans and plain-Jane tee I was wearing practically screamed out for criticism. The outfit was a gift from Chance; it was the only thing he could find of his Mom’s that he didn’t think she would miss. I wasn’t about to complain. Not after all he had done for me. I chose to ignore all the questions for now, simply smiling and nodding and trying to act as if I didn’t hear them, or was above answering them. The kids asking the questions took my silence as it was intended, walking away and leaving me alone. Once we were alone, I questioned Chance about my new friend Lacey.

  “So,” I said with a smile in my voice. “Looks like you have an admirer.” I didn’t look up at him as I moved to his side. I thought it best to keep my eyes focused on where I was putting my feet. Absolute last thing I needed was to bite it right in the middle of a crowded hallway.

  “Are you talking about Lacey?” Chance said, with zero inflection in his voice. He actually seemed surprised I brought up the subject.

  “Don’t act like you don’t know.” Chance smiled but kept looking forward. “Is she an ex-girlfriend or something?” I hated asking such a personal question since I didn’t even really know him, but I felt it hanging in the air like a bad odor.

  “No way,” he said with a tiny laugh. It was becoming a thing he did, and I liked it— it helped me relax. We rounded the corner at the far end of the hall, and I was thankful the crowd had thinned a bit. I was finally able to let my arms fall to my sides without feeling so self-conscious.

  “Lacey Stewart is way too high-maintenance for me,” Chance continued, that same jovial tone in his voice. Almost like he found it funny that I would think they were a couple.

  “Didn’t mean to pry,” I offered, hoping we could drop the subject.

  “
You didn’t. You can ask me anything.” He stopped walking and turned to look at me. “I know we just met, and how we met is definitely not normal,” he smiled as he spoke and I couldn’t help but stare. “But you’re safe with me, Ava. I hope you know that.”

  “Why?” The word came out before I had time to stop myself.

  “Why?” he repeated. “Why are you safe with me?”

  “No. Why are you helping me? What’s in it for you? And why does it seem that Aldric has some sort of hold over you?” That unreliable filter came off my mouth again, and the questions spewed forth like water over a dam.

  “Aldric doesn’t have anything over me, trust me.” I watched the vein in Chance’s neck pulse as his muscles tensed, and I had to close my eyes to ward off the bloodlust. “I’m only doing what he says because of you.”

  “But why? I don’t understand why you’re helping me. Did we know each other before this?” I hadn’t thought of it before, but it made sense; why else would he risk his life to help me?

  “I’m helping you because it’s the right thing to do. That’s it.” The tiny muscles running the length of his defined jaw grew even tighter and I knew I had inadvertently struck a nerve. “Now let’s get to class.”

  “Wait a minute,” I snapped as he moved past me and down the hall. “You didn’t answer my question.” I grabbed his arm to stop him from walking away. That familiar heat pulsed through my hand.

  “I told you why I was helping you,” he snapped back. “What more do you want from me?”

  “How about the truth.” He turned his head to look down at me, and all I could see behind his eyes was glaring sadness. A deep, painful sadness that he was fighting desperately to keep hidden away. Why he wanted to hide it from me was the real question I was too afraid to ask. “I know you’re keeping something from me, Chance. I don’t understand why, and I’m sorry for pushing you.” He didn’t smile but I could tell he wanted to. “But I want an answer.”

  “To what?”