“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“You just did.” I wink.
He laughs. “I mean something a little awkward.”
I can’t think of anything more awkward than having his father barge in on us. “Sure.”
“When you made my father leave, you stared at him like in this weird way. You gave me the same look when we were filling out admission forms. Did you do something to my head, too?”
“Just peeked.”
He wipes the foam-stache away. “Do you peek in everyone’s head?”
“No. You were staring at me all kinds of strange. Can I be completely honest with you without hurting your feelings?”
He tenses, but nods. “Okay.”
“When you walked in, I recognized you from school. I remembered you were always kinda shadowing me and watching me. You’re socially awkward, don’t talk much, wear old clothes, and have this charming, offbeat thing going. However, normal-me probably would’ve been a little freaked out. And I admit to being a giant chicken who’s had a pretty perfect life up until my death, and the way you looked at me would’ve scared the crap out of the girl I used to be.”
He fidgets.
“Aww.” I squeeze his hand again. “I mean that as it’s my problem. I was too judgmental and, okay, maybe a little elitist. Reading your mind was me making sure I didn’t need to be scared you were going to like attack me or something.”
Hunter blinks. “Wow, really?”
“Yeah. I knew you were always following me and I’d just been stabbed, so forgive me for being on edge. But when I saw into who you were, I realized you’re really a sweet, sensitive guy who’s maybe not so good at telling people how he feels.”
He sips from his bowl of coffee, tapping a finger on the edge. “You felt sorry for me?”
“Not at all. I felt sorry for myself for wasting so much time on Scott when you were right there. I don’t think he loved me as much as felt he deserved to have a girlfriend.”
Hunter smiles.
“And, we went kinda fast because I know how you really feel, and I trust you. We don’t need to do the couple of weeks of sniffing each other out thing.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” He flicks his nail at the edge of the mug. “Sorry for being so, umm, passive. I didn’t want to cause drama.”
“It says a lot about your integrity that you respected the relationship I had with Scott… and dammit. Can I go a full hour without saying that name?”
He winces. “Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. So… how’s the restaurant job?”
We talk randomly for a while before I fake a bathroom break to follow a fortyish woman into the restroom for a quick bite. She kinda reminds me a bit of my former chemistry teacher, Mrs. Barrie, but older and thinner. Her blood tastes like cinnamon buns, probably because of her beige sweater and dark brown skirt.
Eventually, Hunter and I head out and meander back to his car. A short ride later, we walk into the woods around Cottage Lake and stargaze for a while. Tonight, I let him set the pace, and we wind up holding each other and kissing.
Rain! Yes!
Well, at least overcast with some drizzle.
The next day, I go out pretty much as soon as I wake up. Ashley and Michelle arrive at my house at 2:30 p.m. to pick me up. Mom’s at work and Dad’s invoking R-rated language at his computer, so I figure he’s running late on a deadline. Sam’s already out with his friends, but the girls are here… so to take a load off Dad, I talk Sierra and Sophia into going with us.
Five girls descend first on a nail salon. While we’re there all getting mani-pedis, Ashley and Sophia are total princesses, loving every minute of it. Sierra does a spot on impression of Grumpy Cat, but tolerates the pampering. Michelle’s more or less in the same boat as Sierra, though slightly less tolerant. All Sophia needs to complete her movie star image is sunglasses and an underarm chihuahua.
After the nail salon, we stop at an ice cream parlor, then head across town to this new VR gaming place called Infinite Realms. Michelle suggested it at 1 a.m. last night by text, and mentioned it’s only been open for a couple days. We end up doing this team-based zombie maze thing in virtual reality… and it’s the polar opposite of the nail salon. Sophia spends the whole time screaming and pleading at me to take her out of there. Ashley’s a total fish out of water, but she tries. Michelle and Sierra are like Wonder Woman, ripping it up and loving every second of it.
Since its dark as heck inside the VR studio, I cheat. Fortunately, we’re all on the same team against AI zombies. Not only do I not have to deal with Sierra complaining about my ‘unfair advantage,’ I more than make up for Sophia hiding in the corner and Ashley still trying to figure out how the weapons work by the time the game is over.
Sophia begs for something less scary, and by then, more people have shown up. We wait for a few minutes while they set the newcomers up, and then do a pretty typical laser-tag type match in ‘starship corridors’ with two teams of human players. Without the spooky atmosphere and zombie jump scares, Sophia is much happier and holds her own against the other team.
The game won’t let my character move as fast as my supernatural reflexes can handle, but I am still faster than the other team and my dexterity (shooting them first) is unaffected. By some miracle, no one accuses me of cheating. That right there is one big reason to do this again instead of gaming on the Internet.
We get back to my place with minutes to spare before dinner. Mom invites Ashley and Michelle to join us, but Michelle’s dad is making a gumbo she can’t miss. After dinner, and an hour into a board game, Ashley points out that we are total nerds. This sets Sierra and Sophia off on a debate as to the subtle differences between nerds and geeks.
All in all, the day is fun and perfect. I almost can’t believe no one has tried to kill me in forty-eight whole hours. Though, all that sun exposure gets me quite hungry. When the sibs queue up to hug me goodnight, I have to force myself to keep my mouth shut. Especially when Sophia’s neck is so close. The nerve of her, smelling like raspberry mousse.
I hold on a while longer until Ashley eventually heads home for the night. She’s been chatting with this guy named River that she ran into at the mall the other day. I don’t want to get in the way of that, so I don’t guilt trip her for going home instead of hanging with me into the wee hours. I have a slightly off feeling about the guy even though I’ve never met or seen him. Either the way she talks about him or some supernatural protective instinct is needling at me. Of course, it could be simple jealousy… some rando guy competing with me for the attention of my best friend, so I let it go.
A little past midnight, I take off for a cruise to Seattle, shivering from hunger. I veer toward an apartment complex well short of the city since I’m in a major hurry and there’s a convenient guy walking alone across the parking lot.
I land silently a few steps behind, and walk up beside him. “Hi.”
“Holy shit!” he yells, jumping two feet back. His saggy pants, which had more or less been exposing his Calvin’s to the world, fall around his ankles.
“Dude. Pants,” I say.
“Yo, girl. What you doin’ coming outta nowhere on a dude like that?” He stoops to pull his pants back to their prior sag point.
“Looking for you.” I smile.
He takes a step back. “This some kinda trick? Ain’t no preppie suburban girls ever lookin’ for me.”
“Relax.” I push my thoughts into his mind. “This will only take a moment. Come with me.”
I lead him down a shadowed stairwell by one of the buildings into a laundry room below it. Fortunately, it’s empty. Once inside, I push his back against the door to keep out surprise guests. I’ve got to fly off the ground to get my mouth close enough to his neck. That’s good. A big guy will be able to spare a bit more blood since I’m starving tonight. The flavor of buffalo wings scorches down my throat.
Shock makes me cough, and spill a little, but hunger overpowers the burn
and I clamp back on. For a few minutes, the man’s heart beats in my head like a giant drum over the rhythm of several washing machines. I’ve left a dribble on his shoulder and down his front, but there’s no way I’m licking that out of fabric. Nor do I want to stand around for ninety some odd minutes while it runs through the wash or try to come up with a story I can program this guy with to explain a big loss of time.
I don’t have change for the machines either.
So, I leave him with the usual five minutes of blankness, and slip out of the laundry room before his mental fog clears. The sight of blood on his shirt will no doubt surprise him, but he won’t remember me at all, so whatever he comes up with to explain it doesn’t matter. I hurry to the top of the sunken stairwell and look around to make sure no one is watching, then glide straight up to the roof, zip over the building, and climb higher into the dark. Well, dark to normal people. Not me.
The world looks as bright as mid-day, only without the glare. It’s still an eerie sight. Somehow, the sky above is black and flecked with stars, but my immediate surroundings look lit as well as my house with all the lights left on. Or at least used to―when I’m up at night now, I don’t bother turning them on.
And hey, Mom’s not complaining about me wasting electricity anymore.
Seconds before I leave the apartment complex behind, I catch a glimpse of a figure sitting on the roof of a building off to the left. The phrase ‘that’s weird’ barely forms in my thoughts before I recognize Glim. He’s not facing me, but after meeting him at the social event last week, I’ve got a pretty good feeling the only reason I can see him is because he wants me to.
Taking that as an invitation, I swing around and glide over to land beside him.
Glim’s sitting on the edge of the roof, letting his feet dangle over the side. He’s still wearing his long, black trenchcoat and combat boots, and stares fixedly at the building across the parking lot. A sheet of paper flutters in his left hand. Between his bald head, grey skin, and perching on the side of a roof, he could pass for a gargoyle.
“Hey,” I mutter.
“Sarah Wright,” he replies, not looking up. “I didn’t realize you hunted around here.”
I sit next to him. “First time. Usually, I go into Seattle because there’s so many people it’s easy to find someone I’ve never seen before.”
He nods. “A good plan. I have a small request of you… perhaps two.”
“What kind of requests?” I lean back, bracing my hands against the roof behind me. “This is kinda weird, sitting on a roof. Never did that before.”
“Do you see the apartment directly in front of us?”
He probably means the one with the dim bluish light flickering in the big living room window. I squint, trying to see inside. All of a sudden, the window lurches toward me, making me yelp and cover my face with my arms.
“What’s wrong?” asks Glim, his voice rising in concern.
“The other building just kinda came flying at me.”
He chuckles. “Did the one who made you not teach you how to use your senses?”
“He taught me a little.” I offer a sheepish smile.
“We all possess some ability to see into the distance. As our hearing, smell, and sense of touch have become much greater than it had been in life, so does our sight. Basically it’s like having a ten-x scope in your head.”
“A what?” I ask.
“Not a gun person?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Suburban girl here. Barbie dolls and hair dryers, with the occasional video game thrown in.”
“Heh. You didn’t strike me as a princess type.”
“I’m not, really…” I wind up rambling about Sophia and Sierra being the two extremes with me landing somewhere between them, albeit a little closer to Sophia.
“You know what a scope is at least?”
“Yeah. Those I’ve seen in video games.”
“Right. Well the ten-x means it magnifies ten times, at least that’s how I see. Your eyes might be different. I’ve been watching the television in there for a while.”
I sit up, cross my legs, and squint at the window. “How does it work?”
“It’s as simple as wanting to see closer. Think about your vision zooming in, and it should do it.”
“Okay.” I again try to get a better look into the distant apartment. My vision leaps forward, slides back, spends a moment wagging back and forth, and snaps back to normal. Ugh. I grab my face, trying not to throw up all that blood I just drank.
“Takes some getting used to.”
“Right. So, what’s up with that apartment? You want me to like go sell them Girl Scout cookies or something?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “That is―or was―my family.”
“Oh.” I put a hand on his shoulder; surprised by how cold the material is. “I’m sorry.”
“The favor I’d ask is the same as what you have asked of the others. Do not make meals of them.”
I nod. “Yeah. Sure. Super easy. No problem.” After a short silence, I ask, “You don’t talk to them?”
Glim finally stops staring at the window and turns to me, his expression unreadable. “Look at me. I’m still not sure what to make of you not screaming.”
“You didn’t see my ex.” I frown. “I get it though. You don’t want to ruin their memory of you.”
He gazes down at the letter in his hand. “The Army had already notified them of my death. It took me a little more than two years before I returned to the US. I didn’t think they would handle seeing me like this very well, if they even believed who I was.”
“Do you want to talk about your family?”
“My oldest son, Stefan, wrote this.” He tilts the letter toward me, only to indicate it, not let me read. “He was only six when I died. He’s fourteen now. Our younger son, Arcelio, was only an infant. He never knew me.”
I put an arm around him. “I’m so sorry.”
“Ana Maria, my wife, got herself a new man. My parents, the whole family, they all think I died while deployed. It’s easier that way.”
My gaze falls into my lap. Sure, it’s easy for me to go home and be with my family. I don’t look like a ghoul. He might have a point in that it would be kinder for his family to think him dead, but it’s certainly not easier on him. Ashamed of myself for looking normal, I wallow in guilty silence.
“I appreciate your sympathy, but you shouldn’t feel guilty about our differences.” He manages a weak smile, exposing yellow teeth between his huge fangs. “I envy you, but I am not jealous.”
“Huh?” I tilt my head at him. “What’s the difference? Aren’t they the same thing?”
He looks up at the sky, his expression like an undead Socrates. “I envy your situation, meaning I wish my circumstances were similar. But I am not jealous of you. I do not hold it against you for what you have, nor wish you ill because of it.”
“Oh. I never realized that difference.”
“I may be a veteran, but I’m not going to say ‘now you know and knowing is half the battle.’”
“Huh? What’s that got to do with you being in the Army?”
He laughs, albeit in a low, breathy voice. “You really are as young as you look. Didn’t watch many cartoons as a kid?”
“Yeah I did. And I’ve only been a vampire for like three weeks.”
“It’s sad that a girl so young should’ve been turned.” He sighs.
I narrow my eyes at him. “How young do you think I am?”
“Fifteen?”
“Ugh.” I bow my head, grabbing two handfuls of hair. “I’m eighteen!”
“Ahh, of course.” He snaps his fingers.
Sighing, I fold my arms and puff hair out of my face. “Right. Most vampires get prettier. Innocents, apparently, get cuter.”
“Well, you are adorable.”
I shift my flat-as-hell gaze to him without moving my head.
Again, he laughs, but it turns somber. “Maybe I should ask
you to talk to Stefan. You could pass for a kid his age.”
“That won’t end well. I haven’t had the best luck lately.”
“That bad?” asks Glim.
I recline flat on the roof, gazing at the sky. “Yeah. I’m only on my third day since the last time someone tried to kill me. And so far, a boy getting involved with me has a fifty-fifty chance of dying in a car fire.”
“Sounds like there’s a story behind that.”
“What’s up with the letter?” I ask. “If you don’t mind talking about it.”
He turns the paper over and over, making crinkling noises. “I’ve been communicating with Stefan. He thinks he’s doing ‘automatic writing.’ Two years ago, he started dabbling with the occult in hopes of contacting my spirit.”
Wind tousles my hair and throws it over my face again. Pfah. I sit up. “Never heard of that.”
“It’s this thing where a person thinks a spirit gets into their body and takes control of their arm, making them write things outside their conscious control.”
“Sounds kinda like an Ouija board.” I glance over at him. “How do you get the pen to do what you want?”
“Simple. I grasp it and write.”
“While he’s holding it?”
Glim vanishes. A few seconds later, his voice comes out of thin air about where his mouth had been. “Yes. It’s one of our particular talents.”
“Whoa. You can turn invisible?”
“Not exactly. I’m telling your mind to disregard my presence. Your eyes still see me, but your brain ignores them. It’s much easier to do to the living. And, beyond simple invisibility.” My right arm rises into the air on its own. “You also remain unaware of touch.”
“Whoa. That’s freaky.”
“Indeed.” He reappears, holding my wrist. It takes my brain a couple seconds to switch from perceiving my arm moving on its own to accepting he’s holding my wrist. He drops my arm.
“What about cameras or mirrors?” I ask.
“Cameras don’t see me if I know they are there. I don’t see myself in mirrors because I choose not to.”
“You’re really not as, umm… aesthetically impaired as you think.”
Glim throws his head back and cackles. “It’s all right to say ‘ugly.’ It’s much more direct than that tragedy of a euphemism.” He grins. “I wonder if vampires in California refer to themselves as living impaired.”
A Beginner's Guide to Fangs (Vampire Innocent Book 2) Page 18