Christmas in Vampire Valley
By Jodie B. Cooper
Copyright 2012 by Jodie B. Cooper
License Notes: See last page
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I Thank God
Without God’s grace, this book would not be possible.
“I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.”
PHILIPPIANS 4:13 (KJV)
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Christmas in Vampire Valley: 13,000 word short story
Glossary: 1,250 words
Forbidden Temptation of a Vampire: 656 word snippet
Table of Contents
Christmas in Vampire Valley
Glossary of Sídhí Terms
Books by Jodie B. Cooper
Snippet: Forbidden Temptation of a Vampire
Copyright Notice
Christmas in Vampire Valley
I leaned my head against the window, trying to rein in my temper. The icy surface didn’t cool me down, not when I could still hear George’s nasally voice drifting past the bathroom door.
“I swear Megan pulled her panties off. She couldn’t wait to jump my bones,” George insisted to the crowd of teenage vampires. The handful of boys had tripled since George started spouting lies about me. I knew the crowd had grown, because I could hear them milling around, encouraging the rat to embellish the totally not true story a little bit more.
Sometimes I hated vampires and their narrow-minded views.
I was a fairy in a vampire school. The vamps called me a witch, which told me how much vampires knew about the other Sídhí races.
I started to Clan Valley High last year as a junior. By now, you'd think the vampires would be accustomed to having several fairies around campus. They weren't. Well, most of them weren't happy with fairies, but not all.
I never considered changing schools; moving mid-year wouldn’t help matters. Clan Valley was predominantly a vampire valley, a Valley being one of the second dimensional pockets on Earth that all Sídhí lived in.
George's voice rose in volume, spewing nasty lies about me.
I wanted to barge into the hall and confront George, but I knew better. My word against a vampire’s word would go over like a ton of bricks, not only would the other teens believe I had sex with George, they’d call me a liar.
Then Principal Tinklebunn would expel me for making everyone's hair fall out.
“You’re lying,” a deep voice emphatically stated.
Hearing my unspoken words, spoken aloud, pulled me up straight.
The group of teenagers grew still. I couldn’t hear a whisper of sound.
The anger boiling in Brandon's voice was impossible to miss.
“No, I swear that…” George’s voice abruptly stopped.
Clothing rustled and the sour scent of fear drifted into the bathroom. The teenage vampires began muttering uneasily.
I couldn’t help it. I knew it was Brandon taking up for me, but I had to see what was going on. I would’ve known his sexy, deep voice anywhere. I’d had enough dreams (day and night) about him that I could have picked him out of a crowd of millions.
By the time I cracked the door open, his hand was wrapped around George’s throat, shaking the rat faced twerp like a rag doll. Semi-white claws gleamed in the florescent lights of the gym hallway.
“Megan has more honor than you have in your little toe." Brandon growled, long and deep. The rumbling sound of his anger, of a furious vampire, echoed. "She would never do what you accused her of doing. Admit the truth or I’ll rip your worthless throat out for lying.”
George’s feet hung a foot off the ground. His eyes bulged in true fear. The sour smell increased, along with a wet substance dripping from the hem of his pants into a yellow puddle on the floor.
I grinned. George deserved to be scared witless.
I worked with him at the candy store, so I knew exactly how nasty and cruel the little wretch could be. Brandon's threat served the little bully right.
Brandon flexed his fingers and blood began streaming down George's neck.
"I was just kidding! I swear I was just joking around!" George mentally squealed like the trapped rat he resembled. "Hellfire, Brandon, she's just a filthy witch, why take her side?"
Brandon snarled, baring elongated fangs. "She is not a witch! She's a good person and doesn't deserve your pettiness. Stay away from her." To emphasize his words, Brandon flung George head first, into the cement block wall of the gym's large hallway.
My tormentor crumpled into a pile.
People scattered, leaving me peeking out the bathroom door as Brandon looked up. He looked me straight in the eye.
My face flamed bright red.
"Hey, Megan," he greeted me with a slight smile on his face, as if nothing had happened and he was actually glad to see me.
"Hi," I tightened my fist against my rolling stomach, not sure how to thank him for taking up for me. "Thanks."
Ugh, that was so lame.
"Sure," he rubbed his hands down his pants in a nervous gesture, "I wanted to ask you..."
Ryan, his identical twin brother, teleported next to him. "Both of you scatter, Principal Tinklebunn is on the war path and heading this way."
Dragging my feet, I slowly entered the auditorium. It was the week before Christmas break and my two best friends were on a fieldtrip, walking around the Museum of Science in Chesterfield. I didn’t begrudge them the trip. I’d taken the same class the year before and the science teacher, Mr. Binklestine expected a two-page essay on what they learned.
I had bigger problems; I needed to find a seat. Sounded easy enough, but it wasn’t, not in a roomful of territorial vampires who didn’t want a fairy anywhere near them.
I automatically searched for Brandon. A surge of longing rippled down my back when I found him. To the right, and about four rows down, he sat with several of his cousins and his twin brother. The group of related vampires carried the nickname of The Andrews Gang; word had it, the family stuck together no matter what.
For just a moment, I could've sword I heard Brandon say my name. I strained my ears, but I couldn’t catch what he and Ryan were talking about, not over the rumble of several hundred voices.
I glanced around the room. It was filling up fast. If I didn’t hurry, I’d be stuck standing at the back wall. No matter how uncomfortable I felt among so many vamps, I really wanted to see the show.
High Councilman Warren Andrews, one of the oldest and richest vampires in Clan Valley, had a huge collection of priceless artifacts. Every year his staff brought a few token pieces and gave an ‘educational’ lecture about their history. This year the theme was Sídhí Gems.
“Megan, I saved you a seat.” George grinned at me, flashing partially lengthened fangs in his narrow face.
I visibly shuddered, and snorted my refusal. I swear his pointy chin and beady eyes reminded me of a scavenging rat. A mental image of him flickered through my mind, sporting a fat rump and a long tail as he rummaged through a trashcan. The silly thought lifted my spirits considerably.
Without a backward glance, I hurried toward three empty chairs. Luck was on my side; the empty spot was only a couple of rows in front of Brandon.
“That chair is taken,” Narlene MuskLeke, George’s younger sister, snapped at me. She sat in the fourth chair over, looking more like a six and a half foot amazon than a vampire. “I won’t have a filthy witch polluting the air anywhere near me.”
It took every ounce of restraint I had not to scream at her. I was so sick of people calling me a witch. I wasn’t a witch. It made my blood boil every time someone called me one; witches were warped creatures.
Everyone knew there were five caste of fairy: R
oyal, Warrior, Merchant, Artist, and Common. The fairy race had hundreds of sub-races such as brownies, nymphs, dwarves, amazons, and pixies. I was an enchanter, one that could manipulate growing things.
I wondered if the sheltered vampires in Clan Valley understood what a witch really was. Witches started out their life as a druid, a normal race of Sídhí like any other race. A druid’s abilities were tied to the synth crystal in their blood, same as a vampire, dragon, or any other Sídhí race of people.
When a druid went bad they turned into a witch, and witches were evil. Once a druid turned to the dark arts, they sucked a person’s essence out of their victims. The ill-gotten power flowed into their body, turning their skin a putrid green.
I wanted to scream at her that I was not a witch. My ability to manipulate things came from the natural synth crystal flowing through my blood.
Any sane fairy of Atlantis Valley knew better than to call an enchanter a witch. Enchanters were one of the few sub-races that balanced between two caste, warrior and merchant.
For the most part, merchant class enchanters enhanced things like plants, animals or inanimate objects, never growing stronger than a level three in power.
My family line was famous for becoming warrior class enchanters. My mom was a level seven, which was scary powerful. There hadn’t been a level eight or higher since Elder Scrimpshine lost his head fighting a hydra in the Gulf of Mexico.
I ignored Narlene's hiss of anger and sat down.
Behind me, I heard Brandon growl. "She is not a witch!"
BOOM!
An explosion shook the walls of the auditorium, an area filled to the brim with vampires. Squares of foam and glass rained down on the teens.
Terrified screams erupted around me, creating mass confusion. The smell of blood perfumed the air. With the smell of blood, growls of hunger emerged, intensifying the chaos.
Black smoke billowed across the stage area.
I scrambled onto the back of my chair as a stampede of terrified vampires rushed toward the exit. Sitting between fang-faced teens and the large back door was not a very good place for a delicately built girl to be.
There was no way I could go head-to-head with a bunch of out-of-control vampires.
Narlene intentionally slammed into me, shoving me off my precarious perch. Falling backward, I cried out. My heart constricted; fear splintered through me like a piece of shattered china. I knew if I hit the floor, I might never get up, not with the number of teens running past me.
I flung my arms outward, bracing for a fall.
I never hit the floor.
Strong arms caught me, pulling me into a tight embrace. From the muscled chest, and strong arms wrapped around me, I knew it had to be a guy. I inhaled a warm spicy scent that sent a deep yearning through my chest. I looked up and froze.
Brandon towered over me. Top of his class academically and star quarterback for the football team, he was the most popular vamp in school. His midnight hair and emerald eyes topped the cake with lots of icing, a very yummy looking cake.
He leaned down several inches. His breath tickled my ear as he chuckled, and asked, “Going somewhere?”
He ported us out of the auditorium, appearing under a tall oak tree on the edge of the school campus. It had to be my imagination, but he seemed to lean closer to me, inhaling my scent. He briefly tightened his hold on me. Before I could react, he let me go and stepped away from me.
I swear I must’ve been in shock.
I had a tight grip on his school jacket. When he stepped back, I stumbled forward.
Groaning, I jerked my hands away. My face flamed deeper, going scarlet in embarrassment. Humiliating myself seemed like a constant affliction I had around him.
He reached-up and stroked his fingers across my hot cheek, before gently tipping my face up to meet his eyes.
I stifled a sigh. I had only dreamed of ever being this close to him. Normally, he had the darkest green eyes I’d ever seen, but today the brilliant sun turned his vampire eyes solid black.
“Are you okay? No cuts or anything?” he asked, a small frown appeared between his eyes.
“No, I’m fine, thanks to you.” Smiling at my secret crush, I scrambled for the perfect words. "That's twice in one day."
He nodded once, keeping a gentle hold on my chin. He gazed into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity, as if he memorized the moment.
I concluded I must’ve knocked my head silly in the explosion and I was dreaming.
A booming explosion broke the spell.
“Stay here,” he ordered in a gentle, yet firm voice.
I nodded my agreement, shivering in the brisk December breeze.
He paused for half-a-second. With a quick move, he slipped off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. The warm material swallowed my shorter five-and-a-half foot frame.
My mouth dropped open, but he didn’t see my reaction. He turned and raced across the wide field at vampire speed, returning to the smoking building.
I blinked and he was gone.
The next day, I yanked a brush through my hair, a thick mass that swirled nearly to my waist. The silky, red stuff crackled with static electricity. I didn’t notice. I was too busy trying to make a fast escape.
I hastily pulled on a pair of blue jeans and a worn hunter green t-shirt. The forest color reminded me of Brandon's eyes. The dark color also complemented my pale green eyes and ivory skin. I snorted at my vanity. My appearance didn’t matter, not tonight. Tonight I was going to my grandma's house. If I'd been going to school, where Brandon might see me, I would've cared. I didn't need to worry about school, not until the first week of January when Christmas break was over.
Adults never used a bit of common sense, none whatsoever. Can you believe Principal Tinklebunn blamed me for the explosion?
It was all Narlene's fault. The arrogant girl told the guardians she saw me in the dressing area of the auditorium before the explosion.
The principal expelled me for a full week. She had totally no evidence indicating I created the explosion, but in her words, she wanted me out of the way while the guardians investigated the explosion. To say Tinklebunn's decision created a major inter-valley incident was putting it mildly. The aftermath of the explosion and the single student expelled was on all the TV networks.
My parents blew a gasket. As the official ambassadors from Atlantis Valley, they hated bad publicity, much less what appeared to be a racially motivated accusation against fairies.
When the reporters swarmed our house, mom threatened to put a wart hex on anyone that shoved a microphone or camera into our face.
Vampires never listen. Perhaps they will now.
Margaret Chittybum ignored mom's warning and took a picture of me in the back yard. I'm sure every reporter in Clan Valley will pay more attention to a ticked-off fairy in the future. By the time Margaret could throw a coat over her head, she had hairy warts all over her face and hands.
I was angrier than mom and dad combined. It wasn't that I loved school or anything, but I needed to give Brandon his jacket back. For the first time ever, I actually had a legitimate excuse for talking to him and the stupid principal messed everything up. If I were a bit more forward, I’d go to his house.
Yeah, right, sure I would.
A light flush colored my cheeks. I groaned and admitted, at least to myself, that I was afraid he would say something like ‘Oh, I wondered what happened to my jacket’. A reaction like that would just crush me.
Anyway, in addition to that lost opportunity, the pit of my stomach began rolling the moment I woke-up. The horrid feeling pulled me out of an incredible dream, a perfect dream where Brandon asked me on a date.
I rolled my eyes in the mirror, ridiculing my own silly thoughts. I had a higher chance of winning the Leprechaun Pot of Gold Lottery than having one of the Andrews’ boys ask me out on a date, especially Brandon.
Forget the fact I’d had a major crush on him for nearly a year. He had never hinted
he liked me, at least not that way. Oh, he was always nice, distantly polite. He'd smile and say hello, but much to my frustration it never went any farther.
I groaned, knowing it was partly my own fault by never encouraging him. Every time he smiled, my thoughts turned to mush and I ended up flustered, not knowing what to say.
Anyway, when I woke-up with my stomach twisted into knots I thought it was nerves. I planned a trip to Atlantis Valley that afternoon. It was my first solo trip without my parents.
It didn’t take me very long to realize I was wrong.
I had a touch of foresight from my dad’s side of the family and the dancing jig my stomach performed did not have anything to do with nerves. I was learning to pay attention to my gut feeling. There was no way I was waiting around the house another three hours. Something bad was about to happen and whatever it was I didn’t want anything to do with it.
The phone rang.
I groaned, wishing I could fling a spell at the wretched device and make it disconnect. Yeah, right. That would never happen. Growing things, I could manipulate. Unlike a few of my cousins, technology stopped me cold. Knowing my luck, I’d make the silly thing explode and mom would ground me.
“Megan,” my mom called from downstairs. “It’s Kendrick.”
I thumped my head against the doorframe. Just ten minutes and I would’ve been out the door and on my way to Atlantis. Why me?
“Coming,” I answered with all the enthusiasm of someone headed to her funeral. I might as well be going to my funeral. Having my boss call at four o’clock on a Friday afternoon was not a pleasant thought.
I picked up the phone, hesitating before I answered in a dull tone. “Hello.”
“Megan, why aren’t you at work?” Kendrick asked huffily, a normal emotion for the stuck-up vampire. Who, by the way, was George and Narlene’s uncle.
“I’m off this weekend,” I said firmly, attempting to put as much strength behind my words as possible.
“I made it clear at the meeting, no one has tonight off,” Kendrick said haughtily. I could imagine his pointy nose stuck-up in the air. If he wasn't careful, he might drown one of these days.
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