She pats me on the back. “Now that you have been officially introduced, mingle.”
And with that, she glides off into the crowd, leaving me to my own devices.
If I were Sierra, I’d probably go out the nearest window and fly home. But, I should probably at least try to fit in. Guess it’s not a bad idea to make friends with people I’ll be seeing often for the foreseeable future. Like the next, oh couple centuries.
Glim
6
With Paolo Cabrini gone, the tension in the air has faded. I couldn’t feel more conspicuous standing in the middle of the room if I had nothing on. Actually, I think I’d feel less stupid streaking this event than wearing a costume ball gown.
Still, we made an entrance, and an impression. I suppose that had been Aurélie’s goal all along, planting a particular image of me in everyone’s head. Coming off as a jeans-and-T-shirt wearing teenager sounds more like something a Lost One would do, and they don’t seem to be keen on these meetings. Note the absence of ‘the Dalton’ here.
Since I’m no longer clinging to my mentor’s skirt, so to speak, the blonde woman who fired off a nasty look upon our arrival walks over to me. She doesn’t appear too much older than I am, probably not past twenty-three if even that. We’re about the same height, though she’s definitely throwing off a ‘this is the girl he cheats with at work’ vibe.
“So, you’re the new kid.”
I look around as if there might be someone standing behind me. “Yeah. Looks that way.”
“Hopefully, you’ll find some dignity soon enough and stop letting her dress you up like one of her dolls.”
“You miss it, don’t you?” I ask.
The woman stammers.
Hah. Thought so. I suppress the urge to grin and say, “It’s not like you think it is. We’re not involved.”
“You’re not her type.” The woman folds her arms. Her hostility gives way to a curious stare. “Did you even make it to eighteen?”
“Yeah. By two weeks.” I chuckle.
She whistles. “Wow. It’s a good thing you’re not short. Bad enough as it is. You could pass for fifteen.”
“This outfit isn’t helping.”
“Seriously.” She offers a hand. “Jen Ruiz.”
“Sarah Wright.”
We shake.
“If you’re not climbing in bed with her, you’re her latest toy,” says Jen. “I suppose you could do much worse for a patron. Just try not to get on her bad side.” She picks at my dress. “Even if she goes out of her way to be embarrassing. She treats those she’s fond of like a crazy old woman with a tiny dog, making the poor thing wear little sweaters.”
As much as I bristle at being thought of as someone’s pet, if making nice with Aurélie protects my family, I’ll deal with it. At least unless things get super freaky. “Just a little. Did you have to dress up like this, too?”
Jen grins. “Only in public. I usually didn’t wear much at all when we were together. The woman can do things with her tongue that I never imagined possible.”
I squirm.
“Sorry.” She pokes me in the side. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s difficult for me not to savor those memories. My nature and all.”
“Nature?” I ask.
“Oh, you are new, aren’t you?”
“About two weeks.”
“A baby!” she coos. “You’re adorable.”
I smirk.
Jen laughs. “So you didn’t get the boring stuff yet, huh, about feeding, etiquette, the types, and so forth?”
“I did.”
“Oh, I bet she left me out. Sounds like her.” Jen rolls her eyes. “I’m a Sybarite.”
“Yeah, they didn’t mention that one.” I lean back. “Do you bite or something?”
She leans close, sniffing at my neck. Out of nowhere, I almost want to jump on her and do… whatever it is girls do to each other. The bizarre sexual attraction stops as fast as it began. “The Old Guard doesn’t like to talk about us. Half of them think we’re useless fluffery. Artists, poets, singers, dancers, that sort of thing. The rest look down on us, even worse than you Innocents.”
“Why?” I fan myself, still reeling from the effect of whatever she did to me.
“My kind value pleasure, as often and as much as we can find it. You, they regard like harmless children. Sybarites are more like the prostitutes lounging about the temple garden.”
I can’t help but giggle. “So you’re a vampire sex fiend?”
She laughs. “That’s accurate… at least for me. Pleasure takes many forms. Some of us are painters who get such a rush from their work that they have no interest in carnality. To them, the stroke of a brush on canvas far surpasses any sensual wonder of the flesh.”
“Okay, that’s only a little messed up.”
“And…” She tries to trace a finger across my exposed collarbone, but I lean back. “Aww. I also rather enjoy being thought of as beautiful.”
Well that explains why she scowled at Aurélie. As soon as we walked in, Jen ceased being the most beautiful woman in the room. This woman is a little freaky, but seems friendly enough. We chat for a little while before she decides to flit over to Ashton and Henry.
Alone again, I decide to drift around the edges of the room, feeling antisocial. I’ve had enough awkward conversations with new people for one night. For however long it takes this shindig to end, I figure on pulling a wallflower, though in a much less literal sense than being smashed into it.
The ‘snack’ people continue meandering around, sometimes stopping by the table of real food to eat something. Speaking of which, having a bunch of bones broken is going to make me hungry, though I do feel too guilty to bite any of these unwilling people. As if anyone I’ve fed from has been willing.
Okay, sneaking up on someone and biting them ‘in the wild’ is a lot less creepy than a bunch of people under mind control standing around like human celery sticks. Besides, they’re all probably getting low from multiple small feedings. Never mind the idea that it would be like sharing a cup with twenty total strangers. I’ll grab a bite after we leave.
The more I watch from the edges of the room, the more it hits me that these people will live forever―just like me. Long after Mom, Dad, Sierra, Sophia, and Sam are old and dead, these vampires will still be around. Well, probably. Assuming none of them have an unexpected meeting with the sun or something like that.
I fidget, wondering if I should force myself to talk to someone. Arthur looks approachable, but before I take a step, I remember that odd sense of danger in his eyes. He’s probably older than hell. For all I know there is a head vampire, and he’s it. But, he didn’t say anything when Cabrini used me for a game of darts. Eh… maybe I shouldn’t bother him. That whole ‘respect elders’ thing. Is it rude to ask a vampire how old they are?
Something dark moves in my peripheral vision. I glance to my right, and barely manage to stifle a gasp. A man with dark grey skin leans on the wall a couple steps away. He’s completely bald with a sharp nose, prominent cheekbones, and a pointed chin. Obvious fangs hang from his mouth, visible even when it’s closed. Glowing yellow eyes peer at me from deep sockets over sunken cheeks. The guy evidently missed the memo about this being a formal affair and came in a T-shirt and black Army pants. He’s got his arms folded over a long black coat, one combat boot against the wall. I get the weirdest feeling he’s been standing here the whole time. I know I’ve looked in this direction more than once, but never spotted him.
“Hey,” says the guy, his voice raspy.
Dalton told me about Shadows, but hearing about them didn’t prepare me for actually seeing one. Despite his inhuman yellow eyes and ghastly appearance, I find myself thinking he looks lonely.
“Hey.” I take two steps closer to him.
His eyebrows tick up. “Welcome to the wall where the extremes collect.”
“Extremes?” I ask.
He grins. “You’re far too human for this ga
thering, and I’m far too ghoulish.”
Okay, the dude is freaky, but of everyone here, I can’t help but think he’s the most genuine. “I don’t think you’re ghoulish, but you’re probably right about me not fitting in here.”
“Oh, that’ll change. It always does. You may never grow as dark as some, but you’ll turn jaded eventually.”
I shrug. “Maybe after my family’s gone. Figure I’ll be pretty upset then.”
“Mmm.” He nods. “I admire you staying with them. Most wouldn’t bother, too taken with their newfound powers to care about mortals.”
“They’re my family. What happened to me doesn’t change that.”
He looks down at the rug. “Aurélie is fond of you.”
“Seems that way, yeah.”
“At her age, she’s lonely. It’s kind of you to humor her and wear that thing.”
I chuckle. “She’s so into it.”
He lifts his head, staring for a while before the intensity of his gaze softens to amused bewilderment. “Not going to shriek and run away?”
“Why would I?”
“Most do.”
“I’m not most,” I say, folding my arms. “And something tells me you’re a pretty cool guy.”
“So it’s true then.” He brushes at his sleeve, revealing talon-like fingernails.
“What’s true?”
He turns his attention back out over the room, observing the small clusters still in conversation. “Innocents are not common. You’re the first one I’ve met. Rumor says they have a sense about people, even vampires. Who they can trust, who they can’t. Most neophytes take one look at us and run the other way screaming. Except for the poor bastards who wake up as one of us.”
Hmm. I narrow my eyes at Eleanor. Something about her felt a little off. Maybe I should be wary of her after all? “Do you know how it works? How vampires wind up, uhh, sorted?”
“Heh. That’s an apt way of putting it. I imagine it works a bit like that.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“You said sorted. A bit like that hat in those books. Partly what we want, partly who we are, partly who gave it to us.”
“Oh. I can’t say I wanted to be a vampire. If anything, I wanted to not die, to be able to go home again.”
He nods. “I understand. And that makes perfect sense. You wanted to go home, and you are the strain most suited to be able to do that.”
“I’m Sarah.”
“I know.”
My cheesy smile doesn’t help me feel less awkward over a long silence.
“Glim.”
“What?” I ask.
“You can call me Glim. The one who gave me the Transference named me Glimpse, but I prefer the shortened form.”
“Oh.” I smile. “Hi, Glim.” A flicker of emotion dances across his canary yellow irises. Eagerness? Surprise? I’m not entirely sure. “So, umm, guess you find this thing as boring as I do.”
“I don’t necessarily mind it, but our kind seldom bother with these gatherings. The others do as much as they can to avoid suffering our presence. They use us when we suit their purposes, but otherwise ignore we exist.”
“That’s so shallow.”
Glim rests his head against the wall and rolls it to the side to peer at me. “I’m quite surprised you’re even talking to me.” He raises one non-eyebrow. “You didn’t even gasp when I let you see me.”
“I admit you startled me, but anyone appearing out of thin air would have. I dunno. Except for Aurélie, you’re the only one here I feel like I’m really talking to instead of just playing some kind of character in a theater production. Look at them all. Every one’s in a role, putting on a face for each other.”
“Hmm. Except for you.”
I grin. “And you.”
We watch the other vampires talk about boring crap like fashion, property values, or how they’ve inserted influence into this company or that. Arthur’s wrapped up in a discussion with two new vampires about some kind of overseas archaeology trip he sponsored. Both men appear in their thirties. They must’ve walked in after I’d finished going around meeting everyone.
“Are there a lot of us?” I ask. “Is this the majority?”
“Perhaps about half. The Lost Ones have little urge to congregate, some Beasts stay away to avoid fighting, and there are a handful of others who have their own agenda. A few Sybarites as well, too busy with their hobbies to go outside. I’m the only Shadow who bothers.”
“That’s sad, I think. Some of them brag how they’re so much better than mortals, as if they hadn’t once been human themselves… yet they still judge others so much by looks.”
Glim lets out a sharp breath tinged with contempt. “Fairly easy for you to say.”
I shrug. “I never considered myself pretty. I’m no Bree Swanson.”
“You are astoundingly cute.”
The first genuine laugh of the night leaps out of me.
His smile shows off the full length of his non-retractable fangs. “I mean, you’re the kind of girl who makes people want to run over and protect them, not bend over backward to get into their pants.”
“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment, laugh, or feel insulted.”
“Take it as you will,” says Glim.
I overact rubbing my chin in thought. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
He manages a smile. “I suspect before your change enhanced the youthfulness of your features, you were quite the ‘girl next door.’ You understate your looks.”
“As do you,” I say.
“My appearance doesn’t horrify you?”
“No way. You should’ve seen my ex.” I shudder. “That’s gruesome.”
“Your ex?” Glim tilts his head. “Is it something you can talk about?”
Like I’ve known this guy for years, I wind up rambling about what happened with Scott, Dalton saving my life (sorta) and everything that came afterward with the whole Scrap situation. Glim nods patiently along.
“I’m sorry your life was cut short unexpectedly.”
“Thanks. Guess there aren’t too many vampires like me.”
He smiles, shaking his head.
Ack! When did I wind up this close to him? Our shoulders are almost touching.
“There aren’t any vampires like you,” says Glim.
“Hah. I mean made a vampire without wanting it. I didn’t even believe they were real until I woke up in a body cooler.”
He gets a far off look in his eye. “If you could go back and change it, would you?”
“I’ve been thinking about that a lot. Honestly, I don’t know. I guess I did kind of win the vampire lotto. I mean, for someone who wanted to basically stay as normal as possible. But… now that I really think about it. I wonder if it would be better if it never happened.” I tilt my head back to peer up at him. “Assuming that didn’t mean I stayed dead. Mostly because of what my being brought into this world could possibly do to my family. They don’t deserve all the weird random danger. I guess it’s maybe selfish of me that I went back to them, but I just felt too guilty letting them think I was dead.”
Glim picks at his huge nails, claws really. “You are lucky to have had that choice, but that’s an admirable reason for wanting to be human.”
“I know a lot of vampires get emo about it, but I think it’s neat. Danger to my family aside, this is pretty cool.”
He nods.
“Mind if I ask about how you wound up having fangs?”
“I suppose it would only be fair, considering.”
Ashton wanders by, glancing straight toward me, but doesn’t appear to take notice of either of us. I turn my head to follow him as he approaches one of the mortals and helps himself to a few sips from the man’s neck.
“It happened while I was in the Army. We were in Mosul. I’m walking down the street with my unit on a routine patrol. Something grabs me from behind. The next thing I know, I’m on the ground in a narrow alley with blood gushing f
rom my neck. I screamed, even fired my M4 a couple times to make noise, but none of my buddies reacted. I black out, and wake up in a crypt under the desert. I never saw it coming. My sire got lonely, picked a random American.”
“Wow.” I reach over and take his hand, unprepared for his cold, dry skin, though I don’t let my surprise show on my face. “So neither one of us wanted it.”
“Few of my kind do.”
“Dalton said Shadows have some real badass powers. For what it’s worth, I don’t mind how you look. My Dad always says that our outsides change, so we should pay attention to the person inside.”
Glim stares at his hand like it’s been a long time since anyone touched him. “Your father sounds wise.”
“Yeah I guess. He can be a major dork sometimes too, but I love him. I can totally sympathize with the waking up in a crypt thing. At least you had clothes.”
“No one ever found me to take me to a morgue. And they’re not quite as organized about that over there.”
“I can’t remember if being shut in there made me angry or frightened. Angry at Dalton for locking me up and frightened that I’d never see my family again. I had to get home.”
“You do whatever you have to do to be with them.” Glim locks eyes with me. “Protect them. They won’t be around forever.”
“Yeah, I―”
His body transforms to a column of thick, black smoke, which promptly dissipates.
“Glim?” I look around, but don’t see him anywhere.
Huh, weird. I lean back against the wall and sigh at the ceiling. So that’s a Shadow. Honestly, I’d been expecting way worse from the way Dalton cringed while describing them. I look down at my hand, which still kinda feels like I’m holding a clammy corpse.
“The two extremes,” I whisper. “Closest to life and farthest away.”
Aurélie glides over. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
“Sorry. I’ve been here.”
“The party is about to end. Come, we should make the rounds and say our farewells.”
I totally feel like Sierra being dragged to Safeway to sell cookies. However, since I’m eighteen, I handle it in a somewhat more mature way: I stick my tongue out at the wall, but take her hand anyway.
A Beginner's Guide to Fangs (Vampire Innocent Book 2) Page 7