Vampire Innocent (Book 10): A Vampire’s Guide To Adulting

by Cox, Matthew S.

  “Sarah, I need ya to do me a solid.”

  Why did I ask? As if I needed a side quest. Is it rude to tell a recently murdered ghost I’m too busy to help him? For most people, probably not. For me? Yeah. Ugh. “Depending on what it is, it might take me a while to get to it. I really have to go home and take care of my younger siblings.”

  “Cool. Yeah, no problem. Don’t gotta be today. Just, this punk ass bitch Miguel Abena needs to die.”

  I cringe. “Umm, Javier, I’m not an assassin.”

  “You’re a vampire. A killer.” He laughs. “Freakin’ a. Vampires are real. Weird damn world, right?”

  “Not all of us. Not most of us, even. I’m kinda on the tamer end of the vampire spectrum. If you want me to help chaperone someone selling Girl Scout cookies and influence people to buy a ton of Samoas, I’m your vampire.”

  He gazes down at the floor by his vaporous flip-flop. “My little sister’s only seven. She took a bullet in the arm. Miguel could’a killed her.”

  Shit. I clench my fists, half ready to storm out of here and tear this Miguel guy a new one. Hang on. He sounds way too casual. “Wait. Are you just saying that to get me angry or do you really have a kid sister?”

  Javier chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah. I really got a li’l sis. Nah, she didn’t get hit, though. The bullet missed her head by an inch. She almost died, yo. Our momma gotta explain why there’s a hole in her damn pillow and why she ain’t gonna ever see her big bro again.”

  “I’m sorry.” I grab my face in both hands and sigh.

  “Can you make me like you? Maybe I could kill the scrawny bastard myself.”

  “Sorry, no. Too much time. Been hours. Turning someone into a vampire has to be done within a few minutes of death. Any longer than one or two minutes, things can go way wrong.” I shudder, remembering Glim telling me about the sefil. If a vampire tries to give the Transference to a body after the soul’s departed it… something else moves in. They still make a vampire, but it’s nothing even close to the person who formerly belonged to the corpse. Basically, a demon.

  Intentionally making a sefil is one of the few ways to get the entire vampire community wanting to destroy you. Glim also shared some horror stories about seeing those creatures. Apparently, some vampires in the Middle East make armies of sefil they control like minions.

  “Seriously, yo. Isabella almost died. One inch.” Javier frowns.

  Sigh. I really don’t want to cross the line of death. It’s one thing to kill in self-defense. It’s another thing to have a sun freakout and kill when I’m not even consciously in control of myself. It’s a completely and totally different wrong thing to hunt down and assassinate someone. Even though Javier is right in a sense. Vampires are basically the deadliest assassins on the planet. Barring magic or a sealed underground bunker, there isn’t much an ordinary person could do to protect themselves from a vampire determined to kill them. Mind reading, mental control, superhuman strength and reflexes. Some of us have claws. If they can even hit us, bullets are usually only annoying—except for head shots.

  Ugh. I am totally going to have bad dreams about the migraine.

  “Umm. Will you settle for me making him go to the cops instead of killing him?”

  Javier waves dismissively. “Whatever. As long as he goes down for bein’ a chickenshit. He could’ve killed Isabella. My mother’s never gonna be right. She watched me die. He killed Juan, Luna, and Joey. Fernando’s got a bullet in his spine. Dunno if he’s gonna walk again.”

  “No one saw him but you?”

  “Nah. No one saw him at all. Just a dark truck. Didn’t know who did it ’til I went all ghostly and shit. I don’t even know how the hell I know. But, it was definitely him.”

  “I’ve heard ghosts know stuff sometimes… especially who killed them if they’re murder victims.” I stand. Weather looks a bit gloomy today so I’m going to get started early. “Okay. I’ll mind-control him to go confess to the police for the shooting.”

  “That works.” Javier holds up a fist to bump.

  I do the best I can to tap knuckles considering his hand isn’t solid. “Gotta wait until dark, though.”

  “Yeah, figured… on account of you being a vampire.” He points at me. “One more thing. You gotta make sure he knows I’m the reason he’s either dead or in jail. Javier Oquendo. Burn my goddamn name into his soul.”

  Eep. Not sure about soul-burning, but I can definitely make sure Miguel knows why the karmic boomerang came around and got him in the balls. I take a step toward the closet door before realizing I have no idea where the heck the guy is. “Know where I can find him?”

  “Yeah. Vato’s usually hangin’ with his crew, ’cross the river in Oxnard. House off Camino Del Sol. Julian Street or some shit.

  I nod. “Okay. I’ll do what I can.”

  “Pff. Crazy shit. What kinda vampire don’t wanna kill no one?”

  “We’re not like the ones in the movies.” I put on a fake harmless face. “I’m Innocent.”

  He laughs.

  I start laughing, too—but stop at a weird tickling sensation deep inside my head. Feels like I’ve stuck an entire pencil into my nose to prod the underside of my brain. Ugh. My left eye closes involuntarily; my whole body tenses up, cringing into a twist at the severe tickling. Before I can even make a noise of discomfort, my sinuses explode in a series of violent sneezes. After five or six in a row, the tickle’s gone but my left nostril’s plugged up.

  “Got somethin’ hangin’ outta your nose.” Javier gestures at me.

  I cover my face and exhale forcefully. A small hard nugget falls into my hand. Umm… a little concerned and a lot disgusted, I open my fingers and stare at a slightly mushed copper-jacketed bullet.

  “Damn, yo.” Javier whistles. “That’s a neat ass trick.”

  “Well,” I deadpan. “Explains the headache.”

  28

  How to Get Kidnapped

  Am I lucky or unlucky?

  Somehow, I managed to take a bullet to the forehead and didn’t end up a blood-soaked mess. Found a bathroom here at the medical examiner’s place and checked myself over for any obvious problems before going outside. I look normal. Feel frumpy, but it’s Monday and I’ve been wearing the same clothing since Saturday. A little frump is to be expected.

  Vampires don’t quite bleed as much as live people, but head wounds are usually kinda juicy. Whatever. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth. I don’t need a new shirt. Works for me. And crap. I really need to call Ashley, but I’m worrying about the boys. Gotta get there ASAP. Being on the phone with Ash is going to take hours. Aww, dammit. I can’t just leave her hanging.

  I make my way outside via a circuitous route to avoid being seen by anyone working here. My powers are offline at the moment and I’m not feeling the urge to get into an awkward conversation about what I’m doing here. Somewhere, there’s definitely a police report about an unidentified teen girl brought here. Bad idea to let anyone see said Jane Doe get up and walk away.

  A woman in a lab coat comes around the corner up ahead, forcing me to whirl back and go the other way. I don’t get far into the next hallway before a security guard emerges from a doorway. Trapped between them, my only choice is to duck into a small office. Luck is with me. No one is in here and it’s got a window.

  Good enough. Doors are so overrated.

  It’s bakey outside but not smokey.

  I’ll take it.

  Ow. Ow. Ow.

  The ME’s office is fairly unassuming, big, squarish, and beige on the outside. I stiff-leg it along the side of the building, heading up a bit of a hill to the nearest road. Houses across the street tell me I’m in the middle of a residential area. Hmm. I head left to the corner where a blue street sign tells me I’m at the intersection of Hillmont Ave and Foothill Road. A sorta-beige slab type sign behind me reads ‘Ventura County Medical Center.’ Not entirely an ME’s office. Maybe I didn’t need to be so paranoid about being seen after all if it�
��s a treatment center, too.

  Doesn’t matter. I’m out.

  According to my phone, I’m nearer the coast on the west side of Ventura. Bit far to walk to the Peters’ house. Grr. I request an Uber via the app, then call Ashley.

  “Sarah!” she shouts.

  “I’m sorry. Some asshole shot me in the head.”

  “What!” shrieks Ashley. “Are you serious?”

  “I’m fine. Just knocked me out for a few hours. Cost me the rest of last night though. Believe me, I wanna be home. Working on getting there. Is everything okay?”

  She exhales. “Wow… uhh, yeah, more or less.”

  Crap. “More or less? Is anything on fire, glowing, or in the wrong dimension?”

  Ashley emits a tired giggle. “No… just stressed. I called out of work not to leave the kids alone. Megan’s mother came by and picked Sophia up to take to dance class. Sam went through the mirror to karate.”

  “Taekwondo!” yells Sierra in the background, making fun of the guy at the dojo.

  Ashley chuckles. “Yeah, so it’s just me and Sierra at the moment. I’m studying while she’s blowing people up.”

  “In the video game, I hope.”

  “Yeah. Sierra lost her mind last night because she thinks a monster followed her when she took the garbage out.”

  “A monster did follow me!” yells Sierra. “There’s something in the yard.”

  Ashley sighs.

  “Oh, yeah,” I say, turning to put my back to the sun. Damn, it’s hot out. “We probably have a hell hound in the yard.”

  “For real?”

  I’m not sure if I should be worried she didn’t flip out or expect her to take bizarre things in stride by now. “I’m guessing. I can’t see it either. Found a footprint the other day from a huge dog. Something ate Sam’s sneakers a couple days ago, but he didn’t seem at all worried, like he knew it only wanted to play.”

  “Wow. So, Sophia’s upset you didn’t come home.”

  “Figured. Please let her know I didn’t mean to be this late. Ugh. I shouldn’t have made the trip down here until after Mom and Dad came home.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. It’s fine. I don’t mind covering for you.”

  “Thanks. Going to deal with one little problem and I’ll be home tonight.”

  “Little problem?”

  I chuckle. “Not so little. They’re teenagers. The Peters brothers. Need to stop them from winning a Darwin award.”

  “Oh, wow. Hang on. Sierra wants to talk.”

  “Hey. I’m still alive,” says Sierra a few seconds later. “Where are you? You didn’t come home last night.”

  “I’m really sorry. Not planned on. Got hit in the head and knocked out. Just woke up.”

  “Are you fighting in vampire wars without telling Mom? Did Dalton ask you to blow someone up?”

  “Nah. Just an accident. I should be home tonight. If not, someone’s going to have claws where they don’t belong.”

  She laughs, not fully able to hide her worry under humor. Dammit. I screwed up. My ‘tough’ sister is scared.

  “Sierra, I’m sorry. I should’ve put this off until Mom and Dad returned.”

  “I know why you didn’t. You’re trying to protect us from the butthead vampires. I know you didn’t wanna be down there for three days, but please hurry back, okay?”

  “Working on it. Little bright out for me to fly yet. Gonna hop on a plane to save time. If you want to stay up late until I get home, I won’t tell Mom.”

  “Deal. Okay, here’s Ash.”

  Ashley takes the phone back and fills me in on the weekend I missed. Nothing major happened, though it’s starting to sound like my best friend might be insane. Chasing after three-to-six tweens—Littles plus their friends—all weekend hasn’t made her reevaluate her desire to have kids. In fact, she rambles on about looking forward to chasing her own kids around. Apparently, being sleep-deprived with a loud-child-induced continuous headache is fun for her.

  Admittedly, the Littles aren’t too bad. Unless Sierra’s having a bad time of it in Call of Duty, none of them are too noisy. Especially Sophia. Half the time, she doesn’t even speak at full volume. Part shyness, part not wanting to seem rude.

  A pale blue minivan approaches from Hillmont Ave, stopping at the corner.

  “Ack. Here’s my Uber. Let me get going. Faster I deal with this, faster I’m home,” I say.

  “Okay. Be careful.”

  “Will do. Try to stay sane.” I wink even though she can’t see it.

  “Too late,” she chirps.

  Hah.

  The Uber drops me off outside Ben and Cody’s house.

  Thanks to the sun being so ouchy, it didn’t even occur to me to be nervous while riding in a car with a fiftyish dude I didn’t know while my powers are offline. The guy seemed nice enough, if a bit patronizing. Didn’t believe I was ‘going to a friend’s house’ or eighteen, and spent the whole—relatively short—ride trying to talk me into not running away from home. Not entirely sure what made him think I was running away from home. Don’t runaways usually go to airports or bus terminals, not houses in the suburbs? And really, how many runaways take an Uber?

  Since flight isn’t working at the moment, I do the normal thing and ring the bell.

  Mrs. Peters answers, peering at me in confusion.

  I probably should say something first, but I’m stuck staring in baffled astonishment at her six dreamcatcher pendants.

  “Yes?” asks Mrs. Peters after a moment of silence. “Can I help you?”

  “Hi. Not sure if you remember me. Sarah? We met at the Lewis & Clark Caverns? Are Ben and Cody home?”

  “Oh, yes! No wonder you seemed familiar. You’re a long way from home.”

  I wince-laugh. Ouch. Damn sunlight. “Yeah, just a bit. Happened to be in the area. The boys are expecting me.”

  “Oh, they said something about going out to work on their little project.” She leans out the doorway, peering left and right. “Not sure if they’re still here. They ought to be home soon for dinner. Are you okay, dear? You look a bit off.”

  Stupid sun. How chipper would anyone seem while being microwaved? “Something in the air I think setting off my allergies.”

  Mrs. Peters peers past me. “Did you walk here, hon? Where are your parents?”

  “They didn’t go to California. I’m only here for a few more hours. Figured I’d stop by to say hi to the boys on my way to the airport since my flight’s not until later.”

  “Oh, well. They should be home any minute. Why don’t you come in and wait?”

  “Thanks.”

  I step inside and close the door behind me. Whew. Having a house between me and direct sunlight is freakin’ paradise. The world goes from feeling like 140 degrees to about 105. For a few minutes at least, it’s awesome. Mrs. Peters asks me to ‘make myself comfortable,’ then goes to the kitchen. To take her suggestion literally, I’d have to borrow their shower and laundry machines, then sit in the basement out of the daylight. Not gonna go that far. Don’t want to be here for hours.

  Once the sensation of boiling where I stand wears off, it hits me I’d been outside in serious sunlight. ‘A little gloomy’ for California is still the kind of bright where I stay in my room all day back home. No smoke, which is a shock. Didn’t even think about it being so bright, my mind too focused on rushing here to stop the boys from getting hurt. Huh. Is an Innocent dealing with sunlight similar to going swimming in a cold river? Don’t think about it, just do it? Extreme worry surely played some part here. Seems as though I’m able to temporarily buff my sun tolerance the same way my flight speed responds to high levels of emotion.

  Interesting.

  Bigger issues to think about at the moment, though.

  Ben’s startled yelp comes from upstairs.

  Mrs. Peters is still in the kitchen, so I creep upstairs to Ben’s room. Got a bad feeling they’ve gone to spy on the funeral home despite me telling them not to. What else
could their ‘little project’ be? As expected, they’re not here, but the boys’ voices are coming from the computer thanks to their remote spy camera. I walk closer, moving around to get a view of the screen.

  The boys are both in view of the camera, their backs facing it. The old man—obviously a mortal as he doesn’t appear to be the least bit bothered at the bright day—frowns at them. He’s wearing the bastard offspring of a groundskeeper’s outfit and butler’s suit, totally looks like the murderous servant of the undead he probably is.

  “Bird watching?” asks the old guy. “I don’t believe you two are really bird watching.”

  “Uhh, yeah it’s a school project,” says Cody. “Sorry, didn’t think anyone owned this place.”

  “We thought it was empty.” Ben flaps his arms.

  Wow. I’ve seen more believable stories told by guests on Jerry Springer. Okay, good. Come on old guy, chase them off.

  Alas, the man pulls a handgun out of his pocket. “I don’t think you two are really bird watching. Move.”

  Shit!

  Cody and Ben stand there in panic paralysis for a few seconds. Ben’s leg tenses like he’s about to try jumping on the dude, but he changes his mind. Two boys their age should have zero trouble winning a fistfight against an eighty-year-old dude, but it doesn’t take much strength or time for a finger to travel one-eighth of an inch. The old man forces them across the small parking lot and into the same door the vampire brothers carried their victims.

  Again, shit!

  I pace around the bedroom. Stupid. Dumbass… what were they thinking? I told them to leave the place alone. Yeah it’s broad daylight, but it’s still not safe. Calling the police doesn’t sound like a good idea. They’re not equipped to handle elder vampires and they might not believe me in the first place, at least not without revealing the spying and getting the boys in trouble. Planting a camera on someone else’s property to observe them—vampire or not—is probably illegal. Showing the police the video of the man kidnapping the brothers would definitely get them to raid the funeral home… but five vampires are sleeping inside, probably in the basement. Would be a massacre. I can’t be responsible for the slaughter of cops.