Dhampir

by J. H. Hutchins

  “We’re here,” Jim announced.

  5

  The Introduction

  The minivan pulled into an empty driveway within a cul-de-sac filled with large, suburban houses.

  “Don’t talk to Jayce until I feel him out,” Jim warned Mallory. “He doesn’t play nice if he feels threatened.

  “Matter of fact,” he continued, “don’t go near him without me or my mother around.”

  “You’re treating him like a dragon or something,” said Mallory. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Seriously,” said Jim, “don’t risk it. He’s always locked away in his room, so you’ll barely see him anyways.”

  “I’m shaking in my boots.”

  Jim gave Mallory a stern look. She playfully slapped his shoulder.

  “Let’s go. I’m anxious to meet the family.”

  Abigail Fletcher — Jim’s mother and matriarch of the Fletcher Residence — met the pair at the door.

  “Welcome,” she greeted them. “Jim’s told me a lot about you.”

  “I hope he hasn’t,” Mallory smiled. She turned to Jim. “I haven’t done anything to impress a soul since we’ve met.” Jim shrugged.

  Mrs. Abby had no problem allowing Mallory to stay in the basement — for as long as she’d like — should she be, “quiet and respectable.” Mrs. Fletcher was a small, fragile-looking woman who styled her white hair in a ponytail on most occasions. But though she looked fragile, Mallory could feel a sense of dominance from her.

  “You didn’t get any shopping done,” she noticed.

  “We had to deal with a few complications,” Jim said.

  “The party’s tomorrow.”

  Jim looked down at his grandmother and scratched his head. This was the first time Mallory had seen anybody but herself cause his face to redden.

  “Don’t worry, ma’am,” he said, “we’ll do some shopping tomorrow. I’ll take Dad if he’s up for it. Jayce!”

  Jim’s yell echoed throughout the spacious McMansion. He had to yell a few times to get his nephew’s attention.

  “Jayce! We’ve got a visitor!”

  Then came the sounds of a door opening — along with a string of mutters that were so loud the trio could hear them. Jim and Abby turned to each other and shook their heads.

  “Didn’t I tell you I need to focus!” came a yell from upstairs. “You guys may not give a shit, but it’s important to—”

  A teenage male with short, brown hair, no shirt, and astonishing abs caught Mallory’s attention. She obviously caught his, because as soon as his hands gripped the balcony straight above them, they locked eyes. Then came the silence. For a fleeting moment, a spark flew between them. Abruptly, he stormed back the way he came — cursing under his breath.

  “Jayce!” Jim called. “Don’t disrespect our guest! Get down here!” Jim turned to Mallory. “See, I told you. This’ll be tough.” Jim bent in closer to look at Mallory. “Are you bleeding?”

  “Bleeding?”

  Mallory patted her nose. Black blood — with galactic spots that made the inky liquid look like its own universe — covered her glove’s fingertips.

  “Bats!”

  Mallory fumbled with the doorknob and hurried outside. Abby followed her. Jim was about to come too, but he had to talk to Jayce. A door slamming, and then Abby’s, “No slamming doors in my house!” was heard before she stepped out into the winter air.

  “Let me have a look,” Abby asked.

  “Oh, it’s fine, really,” Mallory lied.

  “Come on.”

  Abby got her way, and she went about fixing the problem by holding a clean tissue she had in her pocket to Mallory’s nostrils.

  “Hot, isn’t he?” Abby smirked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You think he’s hot, don’t you?”

  Mallory thought about lying to save face, but she felt that Abby was one of those types who could smell bullshit from a mile away. Her father was like that, too.

  “He looks breathtaking,” the princess admitted. “The last time I bled like this—” Mallory quickly shut her mouth. She couldn’t remember if she had a nosebleed for Brenden, and because Lincoln was the nosebleed before that, she didn’t want to risk making the mistake of reminiscing on her last. Hopefully, Jayce turned out to be a Brenden, and not a Lincoln. Good looks didn’t mean much to Mallory anymore. And it was all Link’s fault.

  “His looks are a relic of the past,” Abby continued. “Don’t get your hopes up. He’ll chew you up and break you down the moment you let your guard slip.”

  “Maybe I can help him change.”

  Abby laughed so loud her neighbors from two houses down heard and waved from their window. She blew them a kiss back, then turned to the princess.

  “It’s called turmoil, hon. It makes him hurt people — even those he loves. It’s not his fault, but you won’t change him. Only he will change him.”

  Mallory thought about this throughout her whole tour of the house. She saw everything the first floor had to offer — its living room, dining room, family room, kitchen, and even the deck outside — but wasn’t allowed upstairs. Even when Jim came down from talking to Jayce, he didn’t think it was a good idea to risk a confrontation.

  Instead, the tour ended in the basement. Down here — after tossing away the tissue she held to protect the house from her blood — Mallory met Todd Fletcher — Abigail’s father and, “Complainer-In-Chief,” if you let Abigail tell it.

  “Hey, girl,” the loud man basically yelled at Mallory from the couch across from the basement’s sole T.V. “Would you let a stranger break into your house, eat up all your food, take your job, and then sleep with the love of your life?”

  “No,” answered Mallory. “That sounds—” Mallory had to stop herself. Hadn’t she just broken into the Human World without permission?

  “Wouldn’t you build a wall to block out any more intruders from wrecking the place?”

  “A wall?”

  “Yeah. A big, giant wall that would—”

  “Okay, Mallory,” Jim gulped. “Let’s get you settled in.”

  “Shut up, boy! Let her answer my question.”

  “Time for your pills,” Abby added. “Oh, and yes, they’re the same ones you hid in the napkin this morning. Found them at the bottom of the trash can.”

  “You get a kick out of torturing me, don’t you?” Todd asked her. In his defense, Abby did have a sinister smirk on her face. When Jim went to pick his father up, Todd ripped his arm away. “I can do it myself! Your mother’s the one that can’t run worth a damn!”

  Todd did seem to have more pep in his step than someone that looked his age. He stretched his arms out and bent over to prove that he wasn’t as immobile as his wife made him feel. Abby rolled her eyes.

  “Time’s taken his soul, too,” she whispered to Mallory. Before Todd left, Mallory decided to help him out a bit.

  “Crush them next time,” Mallory whispered to Todd. “Crush them, pour the dust into the glass, fill it with water, and flush it down the privy.”

  “What the hell is a privy?” he leaned over to whisper back.

  “The drainer. The toilet.”

  “Brilliant!” Todd smiled. “But would you build that wall, or not?”

  “If I felt threatened, then maybe so.”

  “So, that’s a yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s one of us!” Todd shouted at the top of his lungs. “She’s one of—” Suddenly, Mr. Todd had a terrible accident. His dentures dropped straight out of his mouth! He took one look at the dirty basement floor before cursing up a storm and stomping on them with his foot. “Damn things! Always embarrassin’ me!”

  “Your teeth!” Mallory exclaimed.

  “Leave them,” Abby said at the top of the basement stairs. “Not a single thing he says is worth a damn anyway.” Mallory couldn’t bear thinking about Todd without his teeth, so she bent over to pick up his dentures. She followed the others upstairs and left them
on the table. It grossed her out — but she was sure her nosebleeds did the same to others.

  Mallory returned to the basement to study her new living quarters. It looked renovated — though unfinished — and very clean. She sat on the tip of the couch, not wanting to mess anything up, and picked up the remote. She was never allowed to touch the remote back home — as that was the job of her many handlers. She flipped through the channels, marveling at every show that popped up — no matter the subject.

  Jim joined Mallory in the basement about half an hour later. She was watching cartoons — her face glued to the screen while sitting inches away from it.

  “You shouldn’t sit that close to the T.V.,” Jim advised. Mallory didn’t move at all. Her mouth was open in excitement at the adventure the program helped her mind embark upon. “Shouldn’t sit like that, either,” Jim added. “Lily’s doctor told us it could block some of her muscles from growing. It was tough to break her out of it.” Mallory took a moment to look down at her W-sitting position. She didn’t want to change, so she turned to Jim. Then she forgot all about it, as she noticed that he was eating ice cream. There was another bowl sitting on the table next to him.

  “You remembered!”

  “I try to be a man of my word,” Jim smiled.

  “For me?” Mallory asked of the bowl sitting beside him.

  “Nah,” said Jim, “this one’s for Casper.” Mallory looked around.

  “Casper?”

  Jim chuckled.

  “It’s yours.”

  Without hesitation, Mallory grabbed the bowl and thrust herself on the couch. Jim wondered if she knew it was big enough to fit at least two more, as she sat directly beside him.

  “You know you have the whole couch to yourself, right?”

  Mallory stopped eating to stare at him. This freezing tactic made Jim buckle under the pressure.

  “Have it your way.”

  After Mallory was finished, she tapped her spoon against Jim’s bowl. In the time it took him to notice this, Mallory had already dug in. She took a big scoop of his chocolate ice cream and shoved it in her mouth.

  “You planning to eat the bowl, too?”

  “Are they edible? They don’t seem edible.” She played around with a bite to her empty bowl. “Too hard.” She placed it on his lap. “You can have it.”

  Mallory was so foreign to Jim sometimes that he thought he was being pranked. By the time he could come to his senses, she had already finished his ice cream. She took his bowl out of his hand and placed it on the table (where she also placed her bowl that was sitting on his lap). She then shifted her position and laid on his chest, throwing his arm around her body.

  “Uhh—” Jim was at a loss for words.

  “I’m glad you’re getting comfortable,” he decided to say. “I’m sorry if Jayce or my dad made you feel any other way.”

  “I’m fine,” said Mallory. “They’re quite enjoyable, really.”

  “I don’t know if enjoyable is the right word . . .”

  “Jim . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “How long will you be staying?”

  “Hopefully sooner than later. We’ve got Abby’s birthday tomorrow, and then I’ve got to solve The Enterprise issue before Jayce kills me.”

  “Do you think I’ll be allowed to join?”

  “Join what?”

  “Mrs. Abby’s birthday party.”

  “Of course. She doesn’t tell just anybody they can stay as long as they’d like.”

  “And what’s this about The Enterprise?”

  “Jayce talked Todd into getting our team together to face The Enterprise. They barely get along, but whenever that issue is brought up they make a strong duo. They’re both conspiracy theorists — in their own way.”

  “How will you face them?” Mallory was curious to know. They were strong enough to steal an Avalonian princess’s legendary cloak and book, so what would a team of humans do?

  “I don’t know. But I can’t leave until we just suck it up and confront them. I want the problem to be dead and gone before I leave. Otherwise, Jayce will be a headache for Mom.”

  Mallory slipped her gloved hand between Jim’s fingers. She could feel Jim’s heart beating faster.

  “May I come?”

  “No way. It’s too dangerous.”

  Mallory giggled to herself.

  “Did you ever tell me about that meeting you had with them?”

  “No,” she admitted. “But all there is to know is that they’re the biggest tyrants in Gatsby.” Mallory squeezed Jim’s fingers in anger. She couldn’t get over the fact that they ruined her relationship with the other Goths.

  “Would you like to come to Florida with me after the drama settles?”

  “I do,” said Mallory, adding her other glove to his hand. “Nothing sounds better.”

  Jim wasn’t ready for her next move.

  “You’re a great father,” Mallory continued. “The second-greatest father I’ve ever had. Your daughter would be proud.”

  “How many fathers have you had?” Jim laughed in order to hold back his tears.

  “Two,” she admitted. “But don’t fret, I cherish you both more than you even know. In fact—” Mallory paused to scrunch closer to Jim — so close that he could feel her cold breath against his chin. “I love you.”

  Jim looked down at Mallory. He couldn’t handle not gazing into her eyes.

  “I’ve got some shopping to do,” he interrupted himself. When he tried to get up, she held her position.

  “Now? Why now?”

  Mallory decided to move out of his way to avoid an awkward struggle.

  “If I wait until tomorrow I’ll never hear the end of it. My mother takes birthdays seriously.”

  Mallory threw a line of questions at Jim as he gathered the bowls.

  “Can I come?”

  “How long will you be?”

  “Do you really have to go?

  “Please don’t leave.”

  Jim hugged her with his free arm. She hadn’t had a man his size hug her in many years, so she latched onto him like a spider monkey.

  “Get some rest,” he advised. Jim had to do a bit of pushing to free himself from Mallory’s grasp.

  When he left, Mallory dropped to the floor in her W-sitting position. She nearly cried.

  It was hard to pick herself up, but she did. She went exploring the basement but didn’t find much. Not until she found a side door adjoined to the main basement area. Within the door was a small, empty room. It’s only decorations were a neat bed, wooden chair, and a lamp on a tiny table.

  It looked unoccupied, so Mallory entered the room. She wiped away the cobwebs with her gloves, disappointed because she’d wanted to find a spider to befriend.

  During the light cleaning, Mallory heard a noise coming from the lamp.

  “Princess . . .” the noise chanted, trailing off into weaker and weaker versions of itself. It stopped after Mallory picked the lamp up from the table. Beneath it lay a black key. What it was for, she didn’t know, but she buried it in one of her tailcoat pockets to ask Jim or the others about it later. The whispered chants made Mallory suspicious, but there was one thing she loved about the room.

  He’ll never find me here.

  Suddenly, Mallory felt her stomach twirl. She covered her mouth and ran to the lone bathroom in the basement. Black blood ejected from her mouth into the toilet — a symptom of too much human food without enough Prana to hold it down. That’s what the Beans were for.

  Her puking fit lasted at least ten minutes, but she felt better afterward. She had a sudden urge to explore the house, especially the second floor she never toured. She snuck up the basement steps to the kitchen, where she could faintly see Abby and Jim talking on the deck through the tall, sliding doors. She struggled to muffle the sound of her ankle boots, but taking it slow helped her make it through a hallway and up a set of hardwood stairs.

  The second floor was empty and quiet besides t
he faint sound of music. It sounded like it was coming from within one of two closed doors. A light shone from one of the doors, and Mallory could hear Todd grumble from within. The sound of a faucet made her guess it was the bathroom.

  Mallory set her head to the second closed door. Loud, vulgar music being rapped at a blistering speed was being blared from within.

  This must be his room.

  Mallory’s thought turned into an action — as it usually did. She knocked on the door. No answer. Again? Still, no answer. Would multiple times work? Nope.

  While waiting on the answers, Mallory became intrigued with something other than converting Jayce to the “love side”. A pile of weapons was strewn out on two beds in the room beside Jayce’s — the collection consisting of guns, knives, and other various assortments of violence intended to do serious harm. She stood in the doorway as if there were a physical barrier preventing her from entering the room. Avalonians were taught that entering private spaces without an invitation was an exhibition of bad manners.

  Woah . . .

  “Go on in there, boy.”

  Mr. Todd Fletcher was still zipping up his pants as he scooted past Mallory. He bumped her inside and shut the door — locking it afterward. His room was untidy, dirty, and filled with political propaganda.

  “Abby’ll have a cow if she sees you in here,” Todd warned, “so go on and have fun.” Mallory turned to him in disbelief. “Go on, pick ‘em up. Ain’t none of ‘em loaded yet anyways.” For every weapon she touched, Todd would run down some information on it.

  Mallory learned many new words and phrases from Todd’s teaching experience: Glock, Ruger, Smith & Wesson, Butterfly Knife, Kalashnikov, Uzi, Remington . . . And there were more! Too many to remember!

  “You got nice hips for a boy,” Todd examined as he helped her point his Glock 22.

  “You’re mistaken,” she giggled. “I’m a girl.”

  “Hey!” he barked. “Quit gigglin’ and pay attention. Never put your finger on the trigger — even if there ain’t nothin’ to spark. Safety first.” It was very hard not to laugh. Todd would notice easier too, as he had his arms wrapped around her own to demonstrate his points. “And quit lyin’. Ain’t no prankster gonna catch me fallin’ that way.”