By the time the sparring period is over, Sierra’s up by two points but neither one of them hit the ten necessary to ‘win’ and stop their match. Meanwhile, the two pairs of men plus one male student sparring with an instructor have finished multiple ten-point rounds. My sister’s thrilled with herself, grinning broadly as she shakes Danae’s hand.
“Gah, she’s so frustrating.” Danae fake growls. “Shortness is an unfair advantage.”
Sierra laughs.
A tallish bearded guy gestures at me. “Don’t feel bad. The other kid over there’d probably beat ya without any lessons.”
Danae glances at me, then him, and gives him the finger. “Oh yeah, Jim. How about we have a rematch?”
“Whenever ya want, dearie,” says the guy in a fake Irish accent.
“My sister could probably beat him,” says Sierra.
I laugh in a ‘yeah right’ way.
Jim frowns at Sierra. “You’re a little young to be talking smack.”
“I’m not ‘talking smack.’ Just saying.” Sierra grabs her water bottle and chugs half of it.
At this point, Jim notices everyone else in the room is looking at him. He points at me. “Hundred bucks if you score even one point.”
Ugh. Sierra. Really? Getting me into situations like this is the exact opposite of being low key. During the day as a ‘normal’ person, I don’t expect I’d mop the floor with him—or even get ten points before him. However, I for damn sure would score at least one point. Probably within three seconds since he’ll be expecting me to be clueless. Dalton didn’t give me sword techniques designed to look good on camera by knocking blades together for ten minutes while going around in circles. His style is all about managing large groups of attackers by killing them as fast and neatly as possible.
I wave him off. “Nah. Wouldn’t be fair.”
Jim grins, shaking his head at me in a ‘yeah, thought so’ manner. Whatever. I don’t have anything to prove here.
Rick interrupts, setting the class up for drills where they repeatedly perform the same attack-defense-counterattack pattern to drill it into muscle memory. It strikes me as basic, which is intellectually confusing but makes sense. Direct brain download of skills—which is basically what Dalton did to me—is so bizarre. Much easier than spending years training. Though, I’d be way more effective with practice. Knowing theory and feeling it work are different.
Maybe Sierra and I should spar at home. We could use pool noodles.
“You’d totally have beaten him,” says Sierra in the car after the class is over.
“Maybe. Maybe not. You do realize I’m trying to not draw attention to myself?” I smile. “How should I have explained why he didn’t totally kick my ass?’
Sierra blinks. “Why bother explaining?”
“Because it would seem strange. They don’t know me. Some random girl comes in off the street who’s never had a single lesson and keeps up with a guy who’s been doing it for years?”
“I dunno. Say you were captain of the fencing team in high school.”
“Hah. The school doesn’t even have one. Only rich schools have fencing teams.” I snicker. “Places where everyone wears those snooty jackets with a coat of arms on it.”
Sophia’s about to say something, but stops to peer out the windows. “Umm, where are you going? This isn’t the way home.”
“We’re stopping to get you some fast food then I’m going to class.”
She gives me a ‘say what’ stare.
“It’s not dark enough for me to fly yet. My bio class starts at seven. Sunset is right around then. I’ll never make it without being late.”
“So, make the teacher forget you walked in five minutes late.”
I fidget at the steering wheel. “Dunno. Can’t use my abilities to cheat at every little inconvenient thing.”
“Making a teacher ignore you being a few minutes late is not inconvenient. Me sitting for three hours bored out of my mind in your biology class is inconvenient. Besides. You don’t get out until ten. It’s after my bedtime.”
I laugh. “Wow, you fail at kid.”
“I do not.”
“What kid in the history of kids has ever used their bedtime as a positive thing?”
“Kids who don’t want to drool on themselves for three hours.”
“Okay. Fine. You’re right. Sounded better in my head. Not sure they’d let me bring you with me into class anyway.”
She grins, triumphant. “Are you still getting fast food?”
“Nah, you can eat at home.”
“Poop.”
“What’s it gonna be? Burgers and sitting in bio class with me or going home and eating whatever Ash put together.”
“Home, please.”
Thought so. Okay, maybe I can do this ‘mom’ thing after all. Negotiating with the kids is a mom skill, right?
Yanno, that Jim guy’s ‘I thought so’ smirk annoys me more than I thought it did.
Maybe I should’ve sparred with him. Nah. Wouldn’t be worth it. Arrogant people do annoy me, but there’s no reason for me to rub every idiot’s face in fail sauce. Besides, technique is fine and all, but I don’t know how my offline body would react to sword fighting. Still think I would definitely have scored one hit on him, tap really, but bleh.
Turns out I didn’t have to mess with Professor Connolly’s head. The sun went down far enough to let me fly at 6:57 p.m. It’s roughly a seven-minute flight normally from home to Seattle. If I ‘rush,’ I can shave almost a minute off. Pushing flight harder is a drain on my energy reserves or whatever, similar to using superhuman speed or strength. Not a huge deal. Only makes it necessary for me to feed more than twice a week. Easy enough to grab a bite after class. So yeah, I got there three minutes after seven and blamed traffic. Professor Connolly didn’t even mind—and I wasn’t the last student to arrive.
So, no big deal.
Bit a security guard in an office building on my way back to Cottage Lake.
It’s about quarter after ten when I arrive home. The house is fairly quiet. Ashley’s at the kitchen table doing homework. She looks up at me as the patio door slides open.
“Hey. How was class?”
“Okay. Bio. Much more interesting than comp sci or calculus.” I chuckle. “Everything good here?”
“Yeah.” She flashes an impish grin. “You should probably check your bedroom. I think I heard a little ol’ mouse snooping around down there.”
“Uh oh.” I wag my eyebrows at her, resisting the urge to cheat by looking into her thoughts.
Don’t really have to. There isn’t much capable of making Ashley not talk endlessly. If she’s encouraging me to go downstairs, it can only mean Hunter’s down there. He’s probably hoping for some alone time with me due to a rare moment of having an open schedule.
Awesome!
I hurry down there to find him stretched out on my bed reading a textbook. As I walk in, he closes it, jumps to his feet, and hands me a bundle of realistic fake roses. The cloth petals are quite obvious to vampire eyes. Not a problem, since I’m not superficial. It’s all about the gesture.
“You’re probably wondering why they’re satin.” Hunter leans in to kiss me.
“It’s not a problem. I actually like these better.”
“I know. Killing flowers bothers you. And, these remind me of you.”
There are numerous ways to interpret that line, none of which are good.
Hunter flashes a roguish smile. “They will stay beautiful forever and never die.”
Aww. Yeah. I… wow. Gonna keep them forever. I peer over the roses at his face, willing this moment to burn into my consciousness. A century from now, when I look at these roses, may it take me right back to now.
“Thank you. I love them.”
“Oh. Got you this too.” He holds up a box of chocolates. “I know… I know… but got the roses, so I figured might as well go full cliché.”
Laughing, I fall into his arms. “It’s cute.
Things become clichés for a reason, you know.”
We make out for a little while, but it doesn’t take long for things to escalate. I push him down flat on my bed while straddling him, breaking the kiss only long enough to pull my shirt off. Somewhere in the background of my awareness as we start kissing again, the ping of Facebook messages sound from my computer. Yeah, as if I’m going to stop everything and go see who sent me a stupid meme.
Hunter’s hands sliding up my back trigger explosions of mental fireworks all over my body, almost setting off my bomb merely from the caress of his fingertips. It’s so weird how much more sensitive I am to touch in general as a vampire. Like my entire body is as sensitive as my nether bits used to be, and down below is an instant derp button. As soon as he touches me there, I’m tasting colors, so to speak.
He rolls over on top of me and sheds his shirt before going for the button on my jeans.
No, it’s not like I’m a walking sex organ. Intent has everything to do with it. Hunter caressing my arm in a romantic way is totally different from one of the Littles tugging on it or clinging. Honestly, them grabbing me doesn’t feel any different from before. I could probably sit bare-butt on a quarter and tell if it’s heads or tails up, but ordinary life doesn’t drive me crazy with touch overload. Same for idiots. If someone grabs me in the middle of a fight, I don’t fall to pieces having an instant orgasm. It’s only when I’m in the mood the hypersensitivity goes there.
Gotta be a defense mechanism.
You know what isn’t a defense mechanism? The rippling, paralytic waves of ecstasy shuddering through me from the sensation of Hunter pulling my jeans down over my hips. This is totally not fair—to him. I’ve ‘gotten there’ like three times already just from his hands on my arms, legs, and back.
Being a vampire is wild.
At the risk of being too bawdy, I am super glad I’m not the kind of girl who makes tons of noise in bed. Admittedly, we are trying extra hard to be as quiet as possible considering the Littles plus Ashley are upstairs. I really don’t want to explain to the sibs why ‘those noises’ came from my room. I suspect Sierra would probably guess their meaning. Sophia would freak out, believing I’m in trouble or pain and come running down here to check on me—yeah, super awkward. Not sure what Sam would think. Probably assume I’m being a dork and trying to talk to whales or something.
Hunter slips out of his jeans and pounces on me.
We roll together, still kissing and pawing at each other. He’s noticeably more aggressive—no, not the right word. Confident. Yes. He’s way more confident and into it than usual. Like someone replaced my shy, cute boyfriend with some character played by Zac Efron. Oh, eek. I hope this isn’t like the thing Aurélie did to Ashley.
I still can’t believe my best friend and my vampire patron (matron?) had sex. It’s one of those things I try not to think about except always do. After their session, Ash turned into this overamped sex fiend for a few weeks. If I’m totally honest with myself, all Aurélie did was pull down the ‘cute and innocent’ mask Ash wears. My friend really can be a bit of a kinky freak sometimes, but it embarrasses her, so she hides it from everyone except whoever she happens to be in the bedroom with.
Always the quiet ones, right?
Hunter is totally ‘driving’ tonight, taking the lead—which is rather unlike him. At first opportunity, I arrange eye contact and check on his thoughts. He thinks I have beautiful eyes. They’re brown like the majority of people in this country. Hardly remarkable. But he’s staring at them like they’re the most precious gems in the world. Aww.
No sign of weird supernatural effects in his head. He’s just missed me due to his crazy schedule.
Whew. Okay. Carry on.
Maybe Aurélie affected Ashley the way she did because she fed from her in the middle of it, or perhaps because she’s been a vampire for almost four centuries, not to mention an Old Guard heavily steeped in charm powers.
Me? I’m Innocent.
Notice the capital i. What Hunter and I are doing right now? Yeah, I’m not so innocent.
My everything tingles.
Hunter and I lay in my bed, somewhat sweaty, still naked, staring up at the ceiling. Well, I’m staring at the ceiling. He’s staring at me. Swear, a housefly could land on my nipple right now and I’d go off again. Last time we had sex, my senses weren’t this over-tuned. Guess he’s not the only one who needed it bad.
In between feeling lucky to have found him and mildly guilty for taking him away from a live girl, my nerd brain decides to go off on a tangent contemplating why, exactly, a vampire would have any desire for sex at all. Everything I’ve learned so far indicates we are incapable of reproducing. Biology drives animals to mate to ensure survival of the species. No such thing applies to vampires. Then again, our mere existence relies on magic, which isn’t well understood by science. Sex drive must be a ghost from our human side. It’s so deeply embedded in the human psyche it would be almost impossible to delete. I mean, sure, some people are asexual. I’m sure turning them into vampires wouldn’t change it. If Ash became a vampire—bite my tongue—she’d still be into both women and men. Going vamp didn’t make me start liking girls. No, nothing about it changes us, but it is weird we still have any carnal drive.
Perhaps it is an evolutionary thing. An argument could be made about intimate contact being a perfect opportunity for feeding, but it’s also not difficult to mind fog a random stranger on the street. Even a child turned vampire would have no problem overpowering adults or mentally influencing them so they can feed.
“What’s on your mind?” asks Hunter.
“All sorts of stuff. My head is still spinning. Kinda wondering why vampires still want to make love, but I think it’s one of those questions no one will ever be able to answer. Tonight was amazing. You literally shut my brain off it was that good.”
He chuckles. “You were amazing. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Sorry I’ve been so busy.”
“It’s life.” I smile. “If not having the chance to be alone together for a month ends with a night like this, it’s worth it.”
Hunter threads an arm around me, pulling me into a cuddle. “Gonna try not to let it be a month until next time.”
“Good plan.” I rest my head on his shoulder.
Honestly, it escapes me when I’d last felt so happy and content as in this moment here and now. Junior and senior years of high school, anxiety over the future dogged me as well as the constant pressure to keep my grades up, what college to go to, what career to work toward, and so on. Add in the disastrous relationship with Scott and, yeah… it’s been a long time since I felt true peace. Having a boyfriend should be all about wanting to be with them, not constantly hoping they’d be too busy and forget to call you. Yeah. So many red flags I ignored.
Sure, there’s still a chance vampire BS will give me grief, but it would mostly be reactionary. I’ll stay out of everyone else’s way and hope they ignore me as the triviality most of them consider me to be.
For now, I have a Hunter to cuddle with, and the world outside my room doesn’t matter.
Two days into the parents being away and things are going well. Yeah, I think I can pull off managing the house until they get back, even if the idea of being responsible for the Littles is scarier than Petra.
At least, with her, I know exactly what form the crazy will take.
12
Becoming Official
Leave it to me feeling secure to dare the Universe into throwing a curveball my way.
Wednesday comes with the expected scramble to get Sam to taekwondo and Sophia to dance class. It’s also raining like hell, which makes going outside nice and easy on me, except for the water. I decide to chance it and trust Sierra to stay home alone for an hour. Ashley takes Sam to his dojo while I drive Sophia to the dance studio. She insisted I take her because she wants me to peek at the head of this other girl, Veronica, who she says has been giving her weird looks and stares at her all the time.
Sophia’s too innocent to suspect the girl might have a crush on her, and wonders what about her is ‘wrong.’ Being stared at makes her feel as though she’s got a giant booger hanging out of her nose she hasn’t noticed.
Easy enough to settle my sister’s anxiety. Mission accepted.
I pull up by the curb in front of the shopping center to spare Sophia a longish walk through the rain. She darts inside while I park. Considering the weather, it’s dark enough outside already at five for me to be online. Wow. Serious storm. Fortunately, no thunder.
If not for having to be around people, I would’ve worn a bathing suit. If I’m going to get soaked, might as well dress for it, right? Alas, I do the umbrella thing and resign myself to sitting in the waiting area in damp jeans and a T-shirt for the hour-long class.
The cougars are back, still talking about some theoretical pool guy they fancy. No, I haven’t been tempted to eavesdrop on their thoughts to see if the man is real or not. Don’t care. They’re much cuter to listen to when I imagine they’re having fantasies.
Speaking of eavesdropping on thoughts… I look for Veronica. She’s easy to spot, being only one of three black kids in the dance studio. The girl’s pretty, like she could legit do photo shoots for clothing catalogs or end up in TV commercials. And yeah, she does seem to be staring at Sophia whenever she can.
Interesting.
I peek at her thoughts. She’s mildly jealous of Sophia being so thin. Oh, damn. Almost another Alexis situation, except it’s not Veronica’s parents overachieving. The kid’s doing it to herself. I think the poor girl is in danger of becoming anorexic. She’s obsessed with her weight. Sure she’s thicker than Sophia, but so is everyone considered normal. My sister—well our family in general—are twigs. Again, thanks, Dad.
Vampire Innocent (Book 10): A Vampire’s Guide To Adulting Page 12