Magic, Mystery & Zombies: YA starter set

by Elle Klass

  They turned and Rodham clutched an Asian boy’s hand in his. “Trying something different.”

  “See you at practice?” the Asian boy asked. His brown-black eyes twinkling in the daylight. Alison observed his fine features and thought him almost as beautiful as Rodham.

  Rodham shook his head. “Not this year.” He turned towards Alison. “You meet Alison yet?”

  Sheepishly, she peeked up at him through her ginger bangs.

  “Hey Alison, Adrian.” He passed her a crooked smile, his eyes shooting to Rodham then back to her. “See you at lunch then.”

  The bell rang and the group went their separate ways. She drifted from class to class, each one the same; review rules, get assigned a large heavy book, and listen to the other students talk about their summers, exotic places they visited, and overall catch-up. Alison sat quiet, scooted into a seat in the back, and made herself as small as possible.

  Third period, a blonde girl took a seat beside Alison. She turned to her and smiled, exposing beaming white teeth. Her dazzling sapphire eyes locked onto Alison’s amber ones. “You’re Rodham’s friend. I’m Lacey.”

  “I’m Alison.”

  “So you’re new. You’re going to love it here! I moved here two years ago when my dad’s job transferred him. I hated it at first, then I made friends.” Her bubbliness effervesced and comforted Alison.

  They talked for a few minutes until their teacher cleared his throat. The discussions around the room lessened until everyone stared at the teacher. He introduced himself as Mr. Tucker. His dark hair streaked with gray hung just below his ears and his brown eyes intensified as he spoke. He wore a blue-striped dress shirt tucked into a pair of tan slacks and a solid baby blue tie. A beard of dark brown-gray hair was trimmed into a stylish goatee. Instead of the usual rules spiel the other teachers made students suffer through, he asked a series of ‘what if’ questions, calling random names from his roster.

  “What if you fell into a black hole?” Mr. Tucker scanned the roster then looked directly at Alison. Oh crap, she thought, wishing she was invisible. “Alison Parker.”

  Put on the spot, she tried not to misplace her voice or stutter her words - she’d lose any chance of friendships. An automatic response to public speaking, or speaking to an unknown crowd, she scrunched downward in her seat. Lacey smiled at her, and mouthed: “There’s no wrong answer.”

  “Umm…” she stammered, afraid to speak, but she knew enough about black holes from reading sci-fi to answer the question. Nervous, she bit her bottom lip, looked at Lacey’s sweet smiling face and began. “A black hole is created from the death of a supergiant. Once nuclear fusion inside the star makes iron, the process stops, unable to fuse into heavier elements, then the star supernovas sending elements into space and the core of the star implodes causing a black hole. Its gravity is air tight. That’s why it’s called a black hole. The gravity is so strong I’d be squashed before I actually fell into it.”

  Her answer triggered a stream of thoughts about Slayers, each Slayer a color of visible light. When they all got together, did they produce a rainbow? How did the ancient witches harness the power of light? And what are the consequences of Bloodseekers getting their hands on the amulets?

  Mr. Tucker lifted his chin and shifted his tie, then nodded his head. “Impressive.” He then shot off another question and called another student’s name. Alison’s anxiety lessened and she relaxed, returning a smile to Lacey.

  At the bell, Lacey asked her to join her during lunch. Like every school cafeteria the mixture of sweat, food and body spray lay heavy in the air. They scooted through the lunch line, talking. Lacey loved reading fiction too, and Alison relaxed even more, deciding school in St. Augustine might be better than school in Virginia, except for missing Vicky. They discussed their favorite books and movies, and took a seat at a table filled with other girls.

  Rodham leaned over her shoulder, his familiar scent tingling Alison’s senses. The girl sitting next to her scooted over a seat, giving room for him to drop his tray onto the table and plopped onto the chair beside her. “I see you’ve all met Alison,” he said, then took a bite of his apple.

  A girl across from Alison, with thick onyx waves tousled over her shoulders, narrowed her eyes and threw visual daggers at her. “She just sat down, nobody knows her yet.”

  He smiled at her. “Veronica, how was your summer?” He ignored the tension in her voice and her comment.

  “It was great.” She stood, grabbed her tray and stalked towards another table filled with guys with tight haircuts and designer clothes - jock types. She took a seat, and flashed her steel eyes, glancing at Rodham then Alison.

  Veronica is full of herself, she’s bad news. The thought streamed into Alison’s consciousness.

  During their thirty minute lunch break, Adrian joined the table capturing Lacey’s attention. Alison, curious and intimidated by Veronica, glimpsed her a few times from her peripheral vision, she flirted with the jocks in an exaggerated fashion, like she wanted to cause tension.

  By sixth period, Alison was ready for home, then Rodham walked in and took a seat next to her. They mindtalked for a few minutes until Veronica walked in, swaying her hips as she shot blades at them with her steely eyes.

  Why does she hate you and me? She doesn’t even know me, Alison asked with her mind.

  She chased me all year, last year. I took her out once, hoping she’d leave me alone, but she gave me bad vibes. I felt something dark inside her.

  Some people are just evil.

  All day I’ve practiced differentiating streams of thought. She’s a void. It’s like she’s cloaked.

  Alison chewed his thoughts inside her head, knowing he was listening. Do you think she’s one of them?

  No, it’s daylight. They burst into flames.

  Just a thought. We know supernaturals exist, but maybe there’s more types than we know.

  Their conversation was brought to a halt as the health teacher introduced himself. By the time the bell rang, Alison bolted out the door, ready to get home. Instead of socializing she urged Rodham towards his car. Piling inside it, they drove home.

  Alison walked through the doorway to observe her mother waiting on pins and needles for her to get home and relay her first day at the new high school. She hoped she’d get over the protective mommy thing by the time she reached college, but doubted it. Being an only child was a blessing and a curse.

  To ease her mother’s tension and make her life a little easier, she told her about her day and Lacey, leaving out the Veronica part. In her mother’s excitement over Alison making a friend on day one, she forgot to ask about whom she rode to school with. Alison sighed as she was off the hook again and didn’t have to explain Rodham. Their relationship growing more complicated by the day, she didn’t know where to start, so was pleased she didn’t have to.

  She savored not having homework yet and disappeared into her room, ready to bury her head inside a book, and ignore the Slayer/Bloodseeker thing. Two chapters into her book, a steady tapping against her window interrupted her peace. She glanced towards it, not surprised to see Rodham standing outside.

  Alison sauntered towards the window, relieved he was there instead of the front door. If he’d showed up at the front door, her mom would have driven her crazy with questions. She smiled and hoped Rodham hadn’t heard that thought.

  That’s why I used the window, he sent to her brain. As she lifted the heavy glass, St. Augustine’s hot, humid air rushed through the screen.

  “I know you need to practice your telepathy, but can we sometimes have conversations where we actually speak?”

  He tilted his head. “Sure. Meet me in the parking lot in five. Wear sweat shorts, a T-shirt or tank, and sneakers with socks - no flip-flops.”

  His words jiggled in her head like gelatin. All she wanted was to read. “Where are we going?”

  He leaned his side against the building, but kept his head facing hers. “Surprise.”

&nbs
p; She succumbed, curiosity piqued even though her body protested going back out in the heat plus her mind objected to putting her book down. She rummaged through her drawers until she found a pair of shorts, not sweat shorts but nylon gym shorts from her middle school. She hadn’t grown much, so they still fit. She hollered, “Leaving for a few minutes,” to her mom as she slipped out the door.

  He waited inside his car, the radio blasting 93.3. She threw open the door and slid onto the passenger seat. “Where are we going?”

  “I’ve been thinking. If we’re Slayers you need to learn fight moves and tone up your muscles. I stay in shape, and because of that my muscles are twice the size they were before I bonded with my amulet.”

  In the excitement over the past few days she’d forgotten her insecurities, but he brought them back. Is he suggesting I’m flabby? He’s right, books are brain food not muscle food.

  “You’re not fat, but you need to tone your muscles, especially if we’re going to be slaying vampires, and you may not have your amulet when we start.”

  Err… Stop reading my mind!

  “You’re right, and I’ve learned how to stop the flow of others’ thoughts, a little. I’m still working on it. I promise I’ll try harder. I wouldn’t want someone in my head, knowing my darkest secrets.” He turned the key and his engine roared to life.

  “Thank you.”

  He winked, then backed out of the parking space. Several minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of a gym.

  “The guy that runs this place is a friend of my dad’s, he lets me in free.”

  “So this is how you stay fit?”

  He half-smiled. “That and sports.”

  They walked past rows lined with treadmills, exercise bikes, and Ellipticals. More TVs than in a sports bar crowded the walls. Punching bags, benches and weights were set up against the back wall. Her nose wrinkled from the odor of sweat that grew more pungent as they moved closer to the weights and further from the door. She lifted the neck of her T-shirt over her nose, unable to handle the armpit smell anymore.

  “You’ll get used to it.” he chuckled grabbing a sanitizing cloth and wiped down the weight machines.

  He started her with baby weights as he called them, doing reps until she felt the burn in her upper torso and shouted no more. Rodham ended the workout with Alison on the treadmill. He stepped onto the one beside her and ran while she walked.

  That wasn’t so bad?

  She eyed him, disdain written over her face, each freckle bearing a frown. My body hurts.

  It should, tomorrow we do legs.

  My Gran’s going to be here. It’ll have to wait. She lacked any desire to spend time again in the sweaty-armpit gym of doom so she used Gran as an excuse.

  We’ll bring her with us.

  Err! A part of her knew he would say that.

  Evening approached and the sunset descended as they drove home, neither saying a word. She mostly tried not to think, especially about him and how watching him lift weights made her juices boil. It wasn’t until they pulled into his parking space that he turned towards her, shifted into park, and broke the silence. “My being inside your head isn’t fair so I’m going to let you inside mine. I have something to confess.”

  She met his gaze. “I’m listening.”

  His voice gentle, he continued. “The moment I first saw you, I felt drawn to you. I thought you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. You wore a loose cotton T with a butterfly on it, denim cut-offs, purple flip-flops with rhinestones, and your hair was pulled into a ponytail. A few strays fell against your neck, you twirled them between your fingers.”

  She stared into his emerald eyes, stunned at his confession. “Me?”

  “Yes.” He wrapped his hands around hers, a warm tingle raced from the touch of his hand throughout her body, then he pulled her closer. Scooting, he filled the gap between them, and tucked the hair falling over her eye behind her ear. His lips brushed against hers, placing a simple kiss on them. Alison’s whole body swarmed with activity and desire as it processed his proximity and touch of his lips.

  He rested his forehead against hers, flecks of brown skipped amongst the emerald green sheen in his eyes. His thoughts swarmed her mind as he transferred his memories from his mind to hers. His thoughts of her an open book. She glimpsed herself at the beach, the day she stalked him, he wished for her to take off the baggy shirt covering her suit. The day they met, in her Tinker Bell pajamas, he tried to keep his eyes focused on her face, but they wandered over her body.

  Her cheeks grew flush from the intensity of his emotions and the glimpse inside his mind. Overwhelmed, she pulled away. “It’s too much. I’ve never… been with… a guy.” She glanced away from him.

  “There’s flames behind your amber eyes.”

  That’s random. “Flames?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know how else to explain it, but every time I look at you, my eyes are met with fire.”

  A knock on the hood of his car startled them both out of their moment, they jumped and looked towards a large, dark-skinned man. He strolled towards Rodham’s window. Rodham unrolled it. “Hi, Dad.”

  He pressed his elbows against the open window, his dark eyes smiling, and asked, “Are you going to introduce me?”

  “This is… Alison.” He stumbled over his words, the parking lot lights blinked off then on as the vampires sashayed past his car. Time slowed as their surreal eyes sucked them in, freezing on Rodham. Time sped and they were inside their car, exiting the parking lot.

  Rodham

  Streams of thought coursed through Rodham’s head. The vampire’s eyes unwavering from his. He felt them trying to poke inside his head, attempting to implant ideas that bounced off his brain like a rubber ball. At first their thoughts were fuzzy, he couldn’t listen to them as he did humans - who were as clear as if speaking to him. To hear them, he had to relocate the mind-fog out of the way and zero in, then their thoughts flew at him, vibrant and strong with pictures.

  You’re the one who stole the amulet and hold its power. You killed Lacopo. Her blue eyes darted to the ashen remnants of the vampire Rodham killed, then narrowed and reverted to him. You will pay! I can’t see your light but I know your signature. Are you listening? Can you hear me?

  Rodham didn’t return the thought, as he decided the less they knew the better. He was confused by the signature. What signature? Do vampires see auras? Or was she taunting him to trick him, to find something out.

  While he deciphered Blue Eyes, Green Eyes’ thoughts also burst through his head. Little girl, look at me, into my eyes, you see me, look at me! Alison’s eyes darted from the vampire’s to Rodham to his father who continued speaking, his voice distorted with time’s deceleration, unaware of the threat lingering behind his back.

  Their gaze couldn’t penetrate him but somehow they manipulated time. He wondered if they could only do this on a small scale for a few seconds or if they possessed the power to influence large amounts of time.

  Alison, I hear them! They know I’m the one who killed their friend. Be careful, they use their eyes to control others. Don’t look at them.

  Chapter 9

  Alison

  Alison sat in class, her mind stuck on the moment in the parking lot, Rodham’s kiss and glimpse into his private thoughts. The Vampire’s eye-lock with him and his warning. How do they know it was Rodham? She tapped her finger against her cheek. How do they know? Then a bomb fell from her brain. Duh, they can’t use their eyes to control him!

  Rodham, are you listening? No response. Her thoughts returned to the previous night. In an effort to appear normal and not alert his father, they had stepped out of the car and walked towards their apartments, his father inviting Alison and her Gran to dinner tonight. She agreed, unsure what else to say. Gran wasn’t in the moment’s equation. She hoped she’d be good with it.

  Time zoomed and sixth period came quick. Alison couldn’t wait to get home and see Gran. Unfazed by Veronica’s malicious
grin and steel eyes stabbing at her, she sauntered towards her seat. Prickles of pain poked at her face. She glanced at Rodham who offered a warm dimpled smile, and the memory of their kiss last night from his perspective, and she turned her head from Veronica. The needlelike pain in her face disappeared.

  What else did you learn about them last night?

  Rodham shot her a telepathic message as he kept one eye on Veronica. They see my signature? I don’t know what that means. I didn’t try and speak to them because I think the less they know about us the better. I am only one of seven Slayers and I don’t fully understand my power yet.

  She remembered the passage she’d read in his journal ‘Their eyes no longer saw daylight but heat from living things.’ A heat signature? she asked him.

  He rolled his eyes. Could be? They can’t take sunlight and are nocturnal so what good is visible light to them? Instead they see our heat signatures. But how is mine different?

  They’re advanced creatures who see infrared, like the Predators from the movie. She giggled at the thought then straightened up, remembering how lethal the Predators in the movie were. They were hunters, seeing infrared gave them an advantage.

  Maybe each of our heat signatures are slightly different and it gives them an advantage over humans. Our blood is their sustenance, so it makes sense that they see each of us differently.

  The bell rang on her last thought. She stuffed her books into her bag and zipped it closed. Rodham snatched her backpack, tossed it over his shoulder, and clutched her hand. Warm tingles raced up her body with his touch. Veronica threw a murderous glance Alison’s way as she gathered her materials, cut past them exiting the class, then bumped into Alison, pushing her backwards as she flew out the door.

  Rodham caught her in his firm arms.

  Once home, Alison raced through her front door, dropping her bag in the entryway, and rushed towards Gran who smiled warmly and stretched her arms for a welcoming hug. They held each other tight for several seconds.