Ordinary Problems of a College Vampire (Vampire Innocent Book 7)

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Ordinary Problems of a College Vampire (Vampire Innocent Book 7) Page 7

by Matthew S. Cox


  Dammit.

  The instant I have enough of a straightaway to take my eyes off the road for a few seconds, I look at the side mirror and zoom my vision in the same way Glim taught me. Sure enough, it’s the guy. Ugh, dude’s got nerve grimacing at my car when he’s driving an oversized wind-up toy. I didn’t think Toyota made cars that little. It’s not exactly Smart Car little, but cub scouts might steal it for a pine derby racer.

  “Dammit,” I mutter.

  Sam, twisted around in the passenger seat to converse with his friends, leans back enough to look at me. “What?”

  “That guy is following us. I don’t want him to find out where we live. But I can’t drive like a maniac with you guys in the car. Especially on wet roads.”

  “What’s he want?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You said he’s not a… umm.” Sam bites his lip.

  “Pretty sure he’s not. But I can’t see for some reason. This is definitely more weird stuff.”

  Sam nods. “Okay. No problem. Hey, Blix. Can you get that guy off our tail?”

  Blix? He named it? Okay, sure. Lots of guys name their pet imps, but most don’t have wings and fly around on their own.

  The soft zzzzt of a backpack zipper precedes a small grey hand reaching up. Sure enough, my brother’s closet imp climbs out of the backpack. The boys in the backseat don’t react to him at all, a good sign he’s invisible to them. I can’t tell if Sam can’t see him or simply acts like he can’t to help his new friend stay hidden.

  Blix turns his slightly oversized head and floppy ears toward me.

  “Little blue Toyota, behind the Chevy pickup,” I whisper.

  The imp nods once, then disappears.

  Okay, that’s unexpected.

  Seconds later, the Nissan loses speed rapidly. It swerves hard to the right, losing both left wheels—which keep on rolling down the highway as the car slides, sparks flying, onto the shoulder. The cars behind the guy slam on their brakes to avoid rear-ending him. A mini-SUV spins into a side-slide for a few seconds but the driver manages to save it and resumes going straight again—at least until she pulls over.

  Probably to change her underwear.

  Wow.

  The boys, all three of them watching out the rear window, laugh. Okay, no one got hurt, so it’s not too wrong to consider that funny. Two runaway wheels going down the road, anyone’s guess where the lug nuts went, yeah… that guy’s going to be delayed a bit.

  Scary, but effective. I suppose since an imp caused that, we should be grateful no one ended up mauled or dead.

  Blix reappears on the floor in front of Sam’s seat and climbs into the backpack again. Before he sinks out of view, I nod at him. He grins, flashing bright yellow teeth. It’s so weird to think of an imp as friendly and ‘creepy cute.’ Weeks ago, I killed dozens of the little bastards with my bare hands. Not sure this one seems to care. They didn’t have much of a sense of solidarity with each other. Though, it probably is stupid to expect anything like that from creatures of chaos.

  “Wow,” I mutter. “That worked. Guy’s off our tail.”

  “Yeah.” Sam grins at me. “Blix is a cool friend.”

  5

  Swords, Sorcery, and Daemons

  We got home okay, unfollowed and unhurt.

  Mom really landed up to her eyeballs in work, but Dad saved the day—or at least disappointed the pizza guy—by cooking dinner. Before I died, the whole family sitting down for meals happened sometimes, but hardly as a matter of routine. Now, we try to do it whenever possible even if I don’t get any physical benefit from ordinary food. Still, I can appreciate the taste, and the time spent with the family is priceless. That, and watching me eat helps the parents feel normal.

  The girls had a league game tonight, which ended up moved to an indoor soccer field due to rain. Their team didn’t win (2-3) but Sophia had fun playing. Sierra, being more competitive, is frustrated and complains about some girl named Melanie on their team who just happened to be standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. Someone kicked the ball away from their goal and it hit Melanie in the head, rebounding into the net. Even though she essentially scored against her own team merely by existing in that particular space, the refs let the point stand.

  After dinner, I head downstairs to my room. A quick round of texts confirms my dreaded expectation: Hunter and Michelle are still at their jobs, and Ashley’s overloaded with homework. It sucks that I’m unable to really help Michelle put those files back where they go using my accelerated reflexes. Superhuman speed doesn’t make up for not having the first clue where to put what. So, yeah, another night alone.

  Maybe I should get a job like my friends. Nah. What the heck could I even do? Night shift security? Bleh. Who would hire a girl who looks like she’s sixteen for that job? I couldn’t intimidate a Brownie scout with a bad attitude. Besides, for the time being, anything that takes even more time from me that I could spend with my family is bad. Maybe it’s spoiled of me to think that way, but the money isn’t necessary. Skipping extra clothes, video games, fun money, or whatever else I’d waste it on is not a big deal. And yeah, that’s like total feel my forehead and ask what’s wrong with me for a girl my age; however, being murdered kinda rearranged my priorities.

  Sigh. Mom always says ‘adulting sucks,’ and I’m starting to see why. At least she has Dad. The last time she hung out with her friends happened years ago. Like, ‘my butt was still in grade school’ years ago. Granted, all of her friends except one moved out of state. Time is a cruel master. The idea of freezing my family as they are by giving them all the Transference does have a certain kind of romantic/nostalgic appeal—if I glaze over the moderately inconvenient truth that I’d essentially be murdering them. Not that any serious chance of that happening exists. The only way I’d ever make them immortal is if something else killed them and I managed to get to them fast enough.

  According to Professor Heath—who also happens to be a vampire—we’ve got about a minute or two after a person dies to initiate the Transference. Wait too long, and the corpse gets back up as an abomination called a sefil, basically a demon filling in the body after the soul went bye-bye. Looks like the person, but it’s not.

  There’s also the slight problem of the vampire community at large frowning on bestowing the Transference on children. In the USA, it’s not as big a deal since no one has established any kind of organized vampire ‘law’ or anything beyond the whims of small groups of elders in each city, basically a whole bunch of little separate kingdoms. Over in Europe, there’s supposedly a council of elders or some such thing that oversees all of vampire kind. They can hand down decrees of annihilation if a vampire does something really bad… like make a sefil on purpose, run around hunting other vampires, turn kids into undead, or mix Skittles and M&Ms in the same bowl.

  From what Heath told me, it’s not even any high-minded morality at work there. They don’t feel particularly bad about kids. It’s purely that children who don’t grow up risk exposure of our existence to normal people. A vampire with the physical appearance of a child would need to live forever in hiding, stay somewhere super remote, or constantly move from place to place so no one realizes they aren’t growing up.

  I do get some odd looks for being ‘too young.’ Though, my legal age of eighteen at the time of Transference makes me acceptable, even overseas. However, I have zero plans to go anywhere… at least while my family is still around.

  Might as well attack my homework since it’s either that or video games. Not quite fifteen minutes into reading what I need to cover for English lit on Monday, Dad pokes his head in.

  “Hey, hon. You up for movie night?”

  “What particular form of cheese are you treating us to?” I smile, mark the place in the book, and set it on the desk. The littles won’t be up too late. Spending two-ish hours with the family for an old movie is just the kind of thing to help my mood. Once the kids go to bed, I can stretch the remaining time before
sunrise out to almost five times its effective duration by speeding myself up.

  Comes in as handy for doing homework as it does for dodging bullets or trading claw swipes with a pissed-off vampire. Wonder if a super-old vampire from like the 1400s would consider me using my powers to compel people to buy Girl Scout cookies or compress my homework into less real time as insulting?

  “Conan the Barbarian.” Dad grins, striking a pose like he’s holding a big sword.

  “Sounds fun. Homework can wait a bit. Gonna be awake all night anyway.” I get up and follow him to the stairs. “Pretty sure you made me watch that years ago but it’s been so long the memory’s fuzzy.”

  “Never a good reason not to re-watch a classic like that.” Dad hurries to the living room.

  Mom’s already got two giant bowls of popcorn ready, one faintly orange—probably cheese flavored. We squeeze together on the sofa. Mom and Dad in the middle, Sam leaning on Dad from the left. Sierra squishes herself into a burrow between Sam and the armrest. I flop on Mom’s right, with Sophia snuggled up to my side.

  Another two years or so and we won’t all fit on this couch. Dad will need to get a sectional then. Something tells me that even when the littles are all grown up, ‘family Eighties movie night’ will continue, even if it’s once a month. That tradition is far easier to maintain than the summer road trip thing. At least, assuming none of the littles move out of state when they get jobs. Given Sophia’s interest in movie makeup, she’s probably going to end up in California.

  Roughly a third of the way into the movie, we run out of popcorn. Mom gets up to make more while the littles race for bathrooms. I sit there on the couch licking fake cheese off my fingers—until Mom screams.

  My literal flight into the kitchen is so fast, I nearly leave my clothes on the sofa. I land behind her, claws out, ready for some crap to go down, but nothing appears out of the ordinary. No open door, no blood, no vampires or gangbangers anywhere in sight… not even a spider.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Mom turns toward me and yelps again. “Oh, God, Sarah…”

  “What?”

  “You’re in dire need of a manicure.” She stares at my hands. “Good grief.”

  “Oh… Umm.” I flash a weak smile and retract the claws. “Sorry. Why are you screaming?”

  She points at the cabinet where the snacks dwell. “I could’ve sworn I saw a pair of glowing red eyes staring at me from in there.”

  “Huh?”

  “It looked like one of those imp things. Are you sure you got them all?”

  “Nothing’s out of place right?”

  “No. Everything seems normal… but I could’ve sworn we had three bags of corn chips in here. But there’s only two.”

  “Maybe Sam and his friends motored through it earlier?”

  “No. He’d have asked first. And that still doesn’t explain two glowing eyes in the cabinet when I opened it. They disappeared so fast I’m starting to wonder if I imagined it.”

  Crap. I don’t think Blix would be reckless enough to tease Mom. Doing so would jeopardize his ability to remain Sam’s friend. Though, it’s possible she opened the door and caught him unexpectedly. Guess that means their ability to go invisible is something they need to concentrate on. He let his guard down thinking the cabinet kept him hidden.

  “Umm. Pretty sure all the dangerous imps were pulled back into the portal when Soph broke the enchantment.” Hah. Qualified that with ‘dangerous’ imps. Not technically a lie.

  Mom eyes the cabinet again. “Your sister better not have summoned more paranormal creatures.”

  “After what happened last time, I’m sure she wouldn’t dare.”

  “Okay, well. Stay alert.” Mom grabs two more pouches of popcorn.

  “Will do.” I grimace to myself when she’s not looking and scurry back to the sofa.

  When the ’rents go to sleep, I’m going to need to have a chat with Blix. Wow. So weird that Sam named him. Makes it difficult to think about killing him if he gets out of control. Guess it’s something like having chickens. They’re food until you give them names.

  Though, I am not eating an imp. Nope. Not happening.

  Eventually, we resume the movie, popcorn stock replenished.

  Sierra is clearly unimpressed by some of the special effects, but she doesn’t seem to dislike the movie, more snickering here and there. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Sam tossing the occasional piece of popcorn up over his shoulder.

  Blix is perched on the sofa back behind him, watching the movie with us. The instant my expression radiates ‘oh crap,’ Sophia covers her mouth to hold in a laugh. I glance at her. She looks straight at the imp and grins.

  You can see it? I ask, telepathically.

  She nods, and thinks it’s way cool that I have telepathic abilities. Also, my girly-girl sister who’s afraid of just about everything in the world doesn’t mind Blix being around. Even after imps trapped her for hours in a dumpster at school and tried to shred us in the mirrorverse. She senses something about Blix being different, nonthreatening. Okay. That works for me.

  But, I’m not going to try convincing Mom to accept having an imp around. That’s all Sam’s job if she discovers the little guy.

  “Dad,” says Sierra. “I want to learn how to fight with a sword.”

  Mom coughs on her popcorn.

  “Uhh.” Dad glances at her. “That’s a bit more, erm, drastic than taekwondo, isn’t it? Do places even still teach that?”

  “Obviously.” She gestures at the screen. “Someone had to train the actors and stunt doubles.”

  “They made that movie in ancient times, when Mom and Dad were our age,” says Sam.

  Dad playfully swats him across the head, making him laugh.

  “Could be fake fighting.” Sophia shrugs. “Just teaching them how to look good on camera. Would they know how to use a sword in a real fight?”

  “Are we seriously discussing Sierra learning how to use a sword?” asks Mom in a slightly raised voice.

  “You can’t be Conan. You’re a girl,” says Sam, no emotion in his voice or expression.

  Sierra glares at him, likely seconds from answering with a fist.

  He looks up at her, smiling. “You’d be Red Sonja.”

  Her anger melts.

  Dad ruffles his hair, beaming with pride. “This is my son.”

  “There is no way Mom is going to let you wear that chain mail bikini,” says Sophia.

  “That’s stupid anyway.” Sam stuffs a whole handful of popcorn in his mouth. “Why does she only wear armor on her boobs? Her heart and stomach are totally open to be stabbed.”

  “It’s not… umm.” Dad fumbles over his words for a moment. “She’s wearing that… umm.”

  “Because a man directed the movie,” snaps Sierra.

  Sophia points at the screen. “Conan doesn’t have much on either.”

  “Yeah, but those massive pecs would probably stop a sword,” I mutter.

  Mom coughs.

  “Still. Can I try sword lessons?” Sierra smiles.

  “What possible reason would you have for wanting to learn how to fight with a sword?” Mom leans forward to peer past Dad and Sam at her.

  “Because our life is weird now. Soph’s like magical and Sarah has a sword.”

  Mom redirects her shock at me. “You what?”

  “No, I don’t have a sword. The blade broke off in the giant wasp-tarantula-thing’s face.”

  After a long moment of Mom staring at me, she whispers, “I’m not sure I even want to know.”

  “You don’t,” deadpans Sophia.

  Sierra laughs. “At least that thing was actually scary. Not like a giant pom-pom.”

  “Fuzzydoom is terrifying!” shouts Sophia.

  The ’rents snicker.

  “Great, so what’s Sam gonna do?” Dad stretches his left arm around Sierra and Sam, snugging them close. “Soph’s a wizard, Sarah’s straight up supernatural, Sierra’s going to b
ecome Red Sonja. What about the boy?”

  “I’m gonna make friends with demons,” replies Sam, completely serious.

  Mom and Dad laugh.

  Oh boy. They’re used to taking my brother’s flat tone as joking. He says off-the-wall stuff so often in that voice it’s nearly impossible to tell when he’s kidding. Considering Blix, I’m pretty sure he’s being serious. My brother plans to cavort with demons.

  Uh oh.

  Wait, that’s not strong enough.

  Crap.

  Nope, still not quite there.

  Shit.

  After the movie ends, the littles head upstairs to get ready for bed.

  When I’m sure they’ve gone far enough to get out of earshot, I clear my throat. “So, umm…”

  Dad, halfway to his feet, pauses and sits back down. “Something on your mind?”

  “You’re not embroiled in another vampire elder war are you, dear?” asks Mom.

  “No.” I chuckle. “At least I sure hope not.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” asks Dad.

  I fill them in on being followed earlier. “No idea why. I haven’t done anything even remotely involving other vampires. Sure, Glim and I fly around sometimes, but he would have warned me if anything we did offended someone. Besides, he’s far too careful for that. Anyway, what I wanted to ask you guys about… I think it might be a good idea for Sophia to meet those mystics, maybe ask them if they could possibly teach her how to better control whatever ability she’s got.”

  “Hmm. Not a totally bad idea.” Dad rubs his chin. “What will that involve? They’re not going to demand she live with them as an apprentice or anything? That’s a hard no.”

  “Jonathan…” Mom fidgets. “I’m not sure that’s wise. Aren’t those mystics the same people who attacked her in the first place and pulled her spirit out of her body?”

  “Yeah, but what they did was more spying on me than attacking Soph. It wouldn’t have hurt her… I think. Just borrowing her body for a little while.”

 

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