“Heh.”
“I visit him once or twice a month. My son doesn’t realize I’m right in the room with him. We’re good at not being seen you know. With a face like this, we kinda have to be.”
“I’m serious.” I glance up at his angular cheeks, sharpish chin and nose, piercing yellow eyes (that glow). Okay, the non-retractable fangs are a bit hard to overlook, but he’s nowhere near as gruesome as Scott. With a little imagination, I can almost see the man he used to be. “I think you’re still handsome―just different.”
Glim looks down. “I never thought I’d be called that again. Thank you.”
“I mean it.”
He tilts his head enough to smile at me. “I know.”
“So, what was the second favor you wanted?”
“Oh. You’re eighteen, so maybe I shouldn’t.”
“Glim… I’m going to be eighteen forever.”
He holds up a can of Busch beer. “Innocents can still ingest normal things. I used to love this stuff. Would you mind drinking some of this and sending your memory of it into my thoughts?”
“Geez.” I take the can he offers. “You have expensive tastes.”
“I was a twenty-something Army specialist with a wife and two kids. Wasn’t exactly rolling in cash.”
“Right.” I pop the can and squint at the fizz in my face. “You might not believe this, but I’ve never had beer before.”
“A good girl?” He grins.
“Not really. I have been drunk before. Twice.” I sniff the can and cringe. “Ugh. I don’t even know what I drank, but it tasted fruity, and after two of them, I passed out in a clothes hamper.”
“Probably bum wine. Something like Mad Dog or Thunderbird.”
“Could be.” I take a sip and wince. “This tastes like water got angry.”
His shoulders shake from silent laughter. Tasting beer for him is the least I can do. If it helps after all he’s been through, how can I say no? Holding my breath, I take a nice big gulp and let it sit in my mouth to absorb the essence of its flavor while simultaneously pushing it into his thoughts. Unfortunately, a dull ache spreads across my forehead like I walked into a wall. His eyes widen, and the resistance dissipates.
Glim’s expression of ecstasy kinda reminds me of the way Dad looks after taking a bite of steak after he hasn’t had it in a while.
“Thank you. I can hold onto that memory for a while now.” He gestures at the can. “You don’t have to finish it if you don’t want to.”
“I’d say I don’t want to waste it, but…”
Glim laughs. “My friends used to make fun of that brand too, but I like it.”
“Couldn’t you just like sip some without swallowing?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not blood, I’ll gag on it.”
“What does blood taste like to you?”
“Pretty much like I’m licking old pennies.”
I cringe. “Really? I taste random things.”
He shoots me a suspicious look.
After chugging a few gulps, I feel all sorts of weird. Two fist pounds at my chest unleashes a belch. “Oops. Sorry. Guess that wasn’t too ladylike.”
“Screw ladylike. You’re dead.”
“Hah. Don’t let Aurélie hear that.” I giggle. “And yeah, different people taste like different things. That guy I fed on before had buffalo sauce in his veins. Or cinnamon rolls. My kid sister smells like strawberries but I won’t bite her to find out if her blood’s gonna taste that way.”
“How do you get it to have flavor?”
“Dalton said it’s all in my head. My subconscious comes up with something based on the person I bite. Maybe blood tastes like copper to you because that’s what you expect to taste like.”
“The one who gave me the Transference was not a terribly warm individual.” Glim smirks. “It begs the question then, is the taste of blood due to our inner nature or learned. Perhaps I will try to alter my perceptions of feeding next time.”
I hold the can up in salute. “Maybe they’ll taste like your favorite beer.”
“One can hope.” He licks a fang.
“So what do you do for fun?”
“I enjoy observing people. Watching them be one way when they think no one is there to see them, yet change entirely to interact with others is fascinating.”
I balance my chin on my fist, elbow poking into my knee. “Yeah. People suck.”
Glim flashes a silly grin. “So do vampires.”
“Wow. I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
He laughs.
The blue flickering in the apartment stops. A pretty Hispanic woman with long black hair and brown skin stands up from the sofa. She spins, reaches into a pile of blankets, and pulls a pale guy with reddish-blond hair to his feet. They embrace for a moment before walking deeper into the apartment.
Glim closes his eyes and sighs.
I bite my lip. “You don’t have to be alone. My family knows about vampires. You can come over if you like.”
He stands, clearly trying not to look in the window. “That’s kind of you, but I wouldn’t want to give your younger siblings bad dreams.”
“Sam and Sierra would probably be okay. Sophia’s a little delicate. She gets nightmares from super cheesy movies.”
“Indeed. I appreciate your company, but I must be going. Enjoy the rest of the night.”
“Later.”
He vanishes with a brief flash of wind.
Ugh. Now I feel a little self-conscious for still having a family, like I took too much food at the buffet or something. S’pose I could sit here on the roof and get all emo about it, but, nah. I wanna go home.
Nothing Suspicious
15
Next afternoon, I awake to Sophia kneeling beside me on my bed, dabbing at my face with a makeup brush.
“Morning,” I mutter.
“Afternoon,” chirps Sophia. “But I guess it’s your morning.”
“What are you doing?”
She leans back to appraise me. “Just a little contouring. You get kinda pale when you sleep.”
“You look like Ronald McDonald,” says Sierra from lower to the floor. The tinny crackles of explosions and tones of laser weapons leak from her headphones connected to a PS Portable.
“She does not!” yells Sophia.
I close my eyes and let gravity pull my head deeper into the pillow, a silent chuckle shaking my body.
“I promise you don’t,” says Sophia, as the brush resumes tickling my face.
“You want fries with that?” asks Sierra.
“Shut up!” yells Sophia.
“Guys… I just woke up. Please don’t shout.”
“Sorry,” whispers Sophia.
I can’t tell if she’s mocking me or afraid of ticking me off. I pat her on the leg. “It’s cool.”
“You hung over?” asks Sierra. “Your breath smells like beer.”
Ugh. Seriously? “No. I only had one… and I can’t get drunk. Not even a little.”
“That sucks,” mutters Sierra.
Sophia hums to herself while continuing to use me as a practice dummy for her emerging cosmetics skills. Guess it’s true what they say about parents relaxing. Mom wouldn’t let me touch anything but nail polish until I was like fourteen, but Sophia’s got full run of the cosmetics case. Of course, Mom gets her super cheap stuff and she’s not allowed to wear it to school. Maybe she thinks Sophia will become a professional makeup artist and work on movies or something?
I’m comfortable, and I’ve got nowhere specific to be, so I lay there. She can’t do anything with that brush a shower won’t fix. These are the moments I’m going to cling to when my family’s all old and gone. I open my eyes and drink in the sight of my kid sister in her white-and-pink dress, barefoot, kneeling at my side with a huge grin on her face.
Sierra’s sitting on the floor beside my bed playing her game, in her usual T-shirt and jeans. She’s sitting close but still too cool to make it obvious she w
ants to be near me. It’s good to see her back to normal, means she’s dealing with what happened.
It’s not until I sit up a little that I find Sam passed out at the foot of my bed, having a nap.
I shift my gaze from one to the next, trying to memorize every detail of how they are. And dammit. Why am I thinking like this? I’m only eighteen. I shouldn’t be at all worried about people getting old and dying.
Speaking of dying, says Dalton’s voice in my head. I could use a spot of assistance if you don’t mind.
“Whoa!” I blurt.
Sophia jumps with a squeal.
Sierra calmly glances up at us. “Why does the bathroom down here smell like a Snickers factory exploded?
“Don’t worry about it.” I pat Sophia on the shoulder. “You’re good. I thought I just heard Dalton in my head.”
You did. His nervous sigh follows.
“How the hell are you awake? It’s not even three yet.”
Sophia stares at me. “Umm. I’m not a vampire.”
“Not you,” I mutter. “Dalton is somehow talking to me.”
“Whoa. Like VG?” asks Sierra.
“What?” I stare at her.
She holds up her phone. “You know, phones have 4G, vampires have VG?”
Sophia giggles.
Remember that little bit about being in imminent danger can cause some of us to wake? I’m in a bit of a fix. Since you’ve managed a more amicable arrangement with that damnable ball of flaming death, perhaps you could offer a bit of assistance?
Sam sits up and yawns.
I ruffle his hair while making confused faces at the wall. “How are you, umm, doing the telepathic thing from so far away?”
Slight perk of my being the source of your gift. Only works along direct, umm, relations for lack of a better word. Can you help?
“Depends on how bright it is out there.”
“It’s kinda rainy today,” says Sierra. “Do you have to go out? Can we go?”
I shift my legs off the bed and sit on the edge. “I don’t think so, guys. This sounds like it might be dangerous.”
“Aww,” chime all three at once.
What do you need me to do? I ask, telepathically.
Dalton’s fear, discomfort, and worry come back over our mind link, making me curl into a ball. I’m trapped in a space with very little protection from daylight. Need you to find some way to get me out of here without turning me into a sack of crisps.
Don’t you mean chips? I ask.
No. Chips are what you people call French Fries. Crisps are potato chips. Argh. Never mind, just hurry!
“What’s the sitch?” asks Sierra.
I can’t help but laugh at her expression, like a pint-sized CIA boss. “I think Dalton got himself stuck somewhere and is slow-cooking.”
“That’s bad,” says Sophia.
“Gotta figure out some way to get him out of there without incinerating him.”
“Insimarating?” asks Sam.
“Means burning,” says Sophia in her ‘schoolteacher’ voice.
Sierra shrugs. “Borrow a coffin?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, like I can just find one of―hang on…”
She blinks at me. “You have a coffin?”
“No, but Ashley kinda does. A giant trunk.”
“The one you guys got trapped in when you were Sam’s age?” asks Sierra, laughing.
Ugh. “Yeah, that one.”
“How’d you get stuck in a trunk?” asks Sophia. “That’s kinda stupid.”
A long sigh glides out of my nose. “We were trying to play submarine and the latch got caught.”
Wow. Sierra shoots me a look of worry. “That’s not cool. You coulda died.”
“Yeah. It’s amazing I made it to eighteen.” I wink at her, grab my phone, and call Ashley.
“Oh, wow, you’re up early,” says Ashley by way of answering.
I glance over at the clock on my nightstand: 2:49 p.m. “Not that early. Hey, I need a huge favor.”
The day’s overcast, but not raining. According to my phone, it’s seventy-two degrees, but it feels like 118 to me. I’ve got a hoodie on, hood up, jeans, and sneakers. I’m dressed for early autumn in the middle of July, but clothes don’t matter much to me in terms of warmth anymore. At the moment, I’m more concerned with covering my skin to keep the daylight off it.
I think I’m getting used to being a vampire because running to Ashley’s house―something I’ve done millions of times―feels slow and annoying. After waiting for Mrs. Ellison to crawl by in her Cadillac, I zip across the street into Ashley’s front yard. A curtain in the front window flickers, and the front door swings open a second later.
I hurry straight inside without hesitation.
Ashley shuts the door and I go from baking to being slightly uncomfortable.
Michelle, standing a few feet away, folds her arms and stares worry at me. “What’s going on?”
“Sarah!” yells Mrs. Carter, Ashley’s mom, while running over. “What are you doing outside? Aren’t you, like, allergic to the sunlight? You shouldn’t risk getting hurt.”
I hug her. “I’m okay. I don’t really have time to explain right now, but I can handle gloomy days.”
“All right.” She smiles around at us. “Can I get your girls anything? Cupcakes, pretzels, tea, blood?”
Ashley sputters. Michelle covers her mouth to stop from laughing.
“I really hope you’re kidding about that last one,” I say.
Mrs. Carter winks at me. “Of course… unless you really need a sip.”
“Oh, I will later after being out in the light, but I’ll find someone to nibble on.”
“That sounds so wrong.” Michelle shivers.
“It’s really not that bad,” says Ashley. “You don’t even feel the bite, and the whole time they drink it’s like… well…” She eyes her mother and goes scarlet in the face. “It feels like an, uhh, orgasm.”
Mrs. Carter blushes as well, then glances rapidly between us. “You…”
“No. It wasn’t me.” I hold up my hands. “I don’t bite family. Look, someone’s in a heap of trouble and we need to hurry.”
“If it wasn’t you, who bit my daughter?”
Ashley blushes. “Can we not do this now, Mom? I’ll tell you later.”
“All right,” says Mrs. Carter with a bit of sigh in her voice. “You girls let me know if you need anything.”
“We will,” says Ashley.
“Thanks Mrs. C,” says Michelle.
Ashley leads the way upstairs to her room. It’s not quite the pink-splosion Sophia’s is, but it isn’t too far from it. And OMG the unicorns. They’re everywhere, like rainbow rats. Come to think of it, hanging out with Ashley is probably why I wound up midway between my sisters in terms of girlishness. Having a super-girly best friend pulled me in that direction; otherwise, I probably would’ve been more like Sierra.
“Okay.” Ashley points at the trunk, a huge black and bronze thing like people used to take on cruise ships in the 1930s. “I got all my old crap out of it.”
The floor is littered with board game boxes, Barbie stuff, and dolls.
“This isn’t going to like ruin it, right? My Mom will kill me if we destroy Granny’s chest.” Ashley nibbles on her finger.
I shake my head. “No. I mean, if we screw up and drop it and Dalton goes poof, it might burn… but I’d prefer we didn’t.”
“So what’s going on?” asks Michelle.
“You know that thing about how friends will lie to the police for you, but best friends will help you move the body?” I ask.
“What!” yells Michelle. “Holy shit. You really…” She waves her hands about and paces. “I can’t believe you’d do that. Oh my God. We’re going to Hell.”
“Dude.” I grab Michelle by the shoulders and stare into her eyes. “Relax. No one killed anyone. We just need to move a body.”
“You’re not making any sense.” She fidgets.
“The sunrise snuck up on Dalton and he tried to take cover in a construction yard. Only, the place he found isn’t as secure as he thought, and he’s being lightly roasted.”
“Oh.” Michelle shivers. “So, you think we’re just going to walk into a construction site with this giant ass box, stuff a dude in it, and carry him out like it’s no big deal, without anyone questioning us?”
Ashley cringes. “Is he gonna stink?”
“Depends on how long it’s been since he showered.”
“No. I mean… This chest has gotta come back to my room and I don’t want it smelling like dead guy.”
I step into the trunk and crouch down. Yeah I can fit in here comfortably, so it should be plenty for Dalton. “No, he doesn’t smell like a dead guy. He’s a vampire. Only not the same kind as me so the sun will fry him in seconds.”
“And you got a day pass?” asks Michelle.
With the most childlike face I can manage, I look up at her and say, “I’m Innocent.”
“Liar,” says Ashley with a giant smile.
We all break out into giggles.
I’d appreciate a bit more urgency, please, says Dalton’s voice in my head.
“Okay. Come on. Dalton’s cooking.” I hop out of the trunk and close it.
We lug the thing to the stairwell with much bumping of walls and banisters. Michelle and I both grab the low end and step backward down the stairs with Ashley holding up the other side.
“What are you girls up to?” asks Mrs. Carter. “That’s her grandmother’s steamer trunk. It’s an antique.”
“The guy who saved my life is about to die to extreme suntanning. This is the best way I can think of to get him somewhere safe. We won’t damage it.” I sigh in my head. “And if we do, I’ll get it restored.”
Mrs. Carter fidgets nervously. “Oh, please be careful.”
“We’re all about careful,” says Michelle, right before losing her balance and bouncing down three steps on her butt.
Ashley struggles valiantly to hold on to the high end of the trunk, but when I trip over Michelle and go down too, the weight of the box pulls her off her feet. I fall over backward and slide down the last few steps to the landing. The trunk lands on top of me, and Ashley crashes down on top of it.
A Beginner's Guide to Fangs (Vampire Innocent Book 2) Page 19