Vampire High School (Book 1: Gregor Academy)

by Lachelle Miller

  We drove out of the street, then almost by the school on the way out of town.

  “Can we bring Lyman in dad?” Mary-Christine leant forward on her belt. “He has some catching up to do.”

  Remedial Vampire-Helsing 101.

  “Eh, yeah sure.” He flashed me looks through the rear view mirror as he drove. “We know you’re a Helsing, right?”

  Wow, that was to the point. What the heck did I say? Then I remembered my tact. “Mary-Christine said I am.”

  “Well, we kinda have proof in one way; that girl, Dorothy? She bit you, and she complained about it burning?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, that about settles it. Not absolutely conclusive, of course.” We were heading out of town, but not west, like I thought, but south toward Phoenix. “How much of what you’ve been shown do you believe?”

  Crap. That was the one question I was dreading.

  “Come on son. No rubbish here. Just tell the truth.”

  “I’m not sure, sir. I don’t know what to believe.”

  To my surprise, he nodded. “Good answer. I’m glad you didn’t swallow it verbatim just to get into Mary-Christine’s knickers.”

  “Dad!”

  Her mom erupted into laughter in the front seat.

  “Mom!” Mary-Christine screamed, punching the back of her mom’s seat, but she was grinning too.

  Whatever had happened, the ice was broken. And I had entered a new phase of the conspiracy. I was now talking to two adults, one of which was kinda high up in Unicorps, and they both believed in Vampires and Helsings.

  “It’s time to let you into a few secrets.” Her dad said. “When a vampire is created, that’s the day he becomes immortal. His body does not alter from that day forth. It’s also the day his body dies. Only his vampirism sustains him after that.” Mary’s dad turned onto the highway, and sped off. Immediately rising to eighty on the dial. “When we catch him, and properly kill him, his bones go back to that first date. So if Alan was first bitten, say in 1970, and we staked him, his bones would decay kinda slowly back to 1970’s Alan. This known as the ‘Forester Effect’.”

  “Big Helsing, back in the fifties.” Mary whispered.

  “There are two kinds of vampire, Lyman. The group huggers, and the lone wolfs. Group huggers are interested in part-culling their victims, making them vampires themselves, and being part of a vampire group; safety in numbers, you know.”

  I nodded, and I watched him in the rear view mirror as he spoke. This man believed every fucking word.

  “Like the group that are living in Gregor. They try to live under the radar, but it’s difficult for them. And they don’t want the group to get too big. A group of vampires takes a lot of feeding. That means dead bodies and animals; that causes problems with the authorities. So they keep the group small, they try to keep it young, and they try to keep it beautiful. Good looking vampires attract food easier.”

  He drove for a while, and I thought the information dump was over, but then he started again.

  “It’s our job as vampire killers to do two things; we kill them, and if we can’t kill them, we keep them on the move. It takes a lot of money to make a new identity every few months. The poorer they are, the less they can do. If we can keep them on their toes, it makes the job of catching them much easier. Take Alan’s death. We didn’t plan it. That was their fuck-up. Seems it was vampire against vampire. But we profited; Alan’s family will now have to move, set up a new home, buy new property. That takes time. But we’re glad it happened, because Alan was setting himself up as a big cheese. He was taking on far too many vampire friends. It takes a real powerful vampire to command a cadre. To gather a following and keep it under control.”

  He was talking about my best friend, saying it was good he’d died. But then I realized a horrible, horrible reality. Alan was alive out there, and I was being auditioned to kill him.

  “Many vampires live relatively solitary lives. Some have been made immortal against their will, and don’t actually want to inflict the curse on anyone else. We call these guys lone wolfs, Lupul Singuratica, but the old name is ‘Pustiu’ from the Romanian. These guys are not our friends, but at least when they take human blood, they drain till death, not creating another vampire.”

  So Alan was a group hugger. I could see that. He always had folks around him, worshipping him.

  Then I looked up from my reflections, and feeling the car veer to the right, looked outside.

  Mister Muscat was taking the turn-off for the airport.

  ~ ~ ~

  Talking to Jackson was good for me. He gave me a lot of the 4-1-1 Alan had neglected to share. Like the fact that most of the vampires in our area attended Gregor Academy; that’s how it got its nickname: Vampire High. Jackson refused to go there.

  Even though his family liked to keep on the good side of the other vampires- like Alan’s parents- they really just wanted to live as quietly as possible. He said they only moved back to Everton in order to “keep an eye on things”; but he never explained what that meant. Eventually, they’d have to uproot and go dig in somewhere else. I guess that was the real downer about living among humans; vampires can never stay in one place too long; people start to notice things like kids that never hit puberty or old people that never die.

  Jackson was turned at twenty; he had a baby face so the Coles were able to pass him off as a high school kid. Generally they stayed in one place long enough for Jackson to graduate, hang out for about five or six years after and then move on again. Since things were getting dicey around here (again-he never explained what that was supposed to mean), they were talking about leaving Everton a lot sooner than that.

  The Coles decided to help me out a bit, though. They were all turned during the Philadelphia Crusade and just kind of found each other. Mona and Steve, a.k.a. Jackson’s foster mom and dad, both lost family members to Amos Blanche’s followers. So, I think they felt sorry for me that I got mixed up with Alan. They put me up in a spare room.

  All of them- Jackson especially- warned me like a zillion times to steer clear of Alan, and his buds at Gregor Academy. I lasted two nights before that weird, buzzing feeling in my stomach came back and I was jonesing to see him again.

  Unfortunately, I still had no clue where he lived or hung out (besides my house) and it didn’t look like Alan was exactly hot n’ bothered to see me anytime soon. Even though it was a total long shot, I pled my case to Jackson- hoping he’d help me get in touch with Alan.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

  We were not off to a good start.

  “After what that guy did to you- you’re still in to him?”

  Okay. That was just freaking humiliating. I thought for sure I was gonna cry.

  “So much has happened and I have to talk to him,” I was whining, “I just have some questions I need answered.”

  Jackson wasn’t even looking at me. As usual, he was bent over his guitar, fiddling with the knobby things that adjust the strings.

  “Questions? Like what?” he was all mocking me with this fake girly voice; he even fluffed up his hair as he spoke. “Hey, Alan… how come you totally murdered my parents and then… like, um… made me all into a vampire and stuff? Oh- and why’d you move your totally icky friends into my house and then ditch me? That was so totally, like, not cool n’ stuff.”

  “Stop it, Jackson! You’re being a jerk!”

  That’s when he stopped messing around with his guitar and looked at me. I really wish he hadn’t ‘cause his face was just this mask of… mean. Jackson freaking hated me.

  “I’m the jerk? Alan McCartney stole your fucking life, Mandy! And- in case you haven’t noticed- my family is trying to give you a chance at a new one… one that doesn’t include pillaging the fucking villagers. So, excuse the fuck out of me if that’s what you call being a jerk!”

  “Seriously?” I was pissed now. “ What- you think I’ m not grateful enough or something? What am I supposed to
do- hump your leg to show my appreciation?”

  “What you could do is stop bugging the crap out of me about your boyfriend, Mandy. Alan’s nothing but fucking trouble and I’m not going to get mixed up in your fucking drama. Far as I’m concerned- if Mona and Steve want to help you out that’s their deal and I wash my hands of you. Fuck it- maybe it’s time I struck out on my own anyway…”

  “Are you saying that if I stay here… you’ll leave?”

  Jackson went back to screwing around with his guitar.

  “The Coles don’t need two charity cases to look after.”

  I didn’t have to hear any more. Jackson Cole didn’t think there was room enough for the both of us- to hell with him. It wasn’t my idea that I stay there in the first place. So, I left without even saying any goodbyes and without anywhere else to go.

  I walked around for hours. Just before dawn I found myself standing on the sidewalk in front of Cami’s house. And I was real thirsty.

  ~ ~ ~

  So we flew Southwest Airlines, heading for Atlanta. Only the third time I’d ever flown anywhere, and the other two were dim memories anyway.

  I loved it. We went first class, with everything thrown in, and got treated like fricking kings and queens. Mary-Christine and I sat behind her mom and dad, and we held hands and giggled like six-year-olds.

  It took us three and a half hours to get to Atlanta, and not one word was said about vampires the whole way. These guys knew when to shut up, and I followed suit.

  When we touched down, Mr. Muscat was on his phone right away, asking about times, and arranging cars. I didn’t ear-wig, but he wasn’t trying to conceal anything. A taxi took us to a hotel on the west of the city.

  The Madison House was a big hotel, if he was trying to impress, he was doing a great job.

  As we put our bags on one of those rolly things, Mr. Muscat came up to me, pulling me aside. “I just got a family suite, Lyman. Is that ok?”

  “Eh, sure, Mr. Muscat.”

  “Well, I didn’t want you sleeping on your own, and it’s ‘Dave’. Ok?”

  “Er, ok, Dave.” I answered kinda awkwardly.

  We had dinner at a nearby Italian place. It was way more up-scale than I was used to, and it seemed that there was no ‘watching the pennies’ thing that mom and dad always had to do. We ate well and expensive.

  So we got back to the hotel late, and I was totally spent. It had been a heck of a long day.

  I changed into my PJ’s and got into bed. The family suite was just one big room, but it was partitioned off with furniture and fake walls. Mary-Christine slept in a bed just six feet away.

  It was delightful.

  The next morning, it was breakfast downstairs, and I could feel the excitement beginning to get to me.

  “The car’s booked for half an hour.” Mary-Christine’s dad announced as he cleared the table. “Be outside ready.”

  Mary-Christine pulled my hand, and we went outside. “Let’s explore.” She said, but in truth, she just wanted to get out of sight of parents and explore my mouth with her tongue.

  When the car came, we all got in. Mary-Christine and I got a change in mood right away. The Muscats were not talking to each other, or us.

  Thankfully, the journey only took fifteen minutes, and we pulled into a huge Unicorps car lot, and the car headed to one of the outlying buildings.

  “Transperian Research.” The sign said, but I didn’t ask questions.

  “A quick word.” Mr. Muscat said to us all, but I think it was aimed mainly at me. We were standing outside watching the car leave. “What you see in here is unbelievably top secret. The faces will be instantly forgotten, but what we’re going to see will change your lives forever.”

  Then he led the way inside.

  The security was unbelievable. Every door was sealed. Every door had a second door. Mr. Muscat explained that they had double doors to catch invading vampires. “Because they are fast; very fast.”

  I counted four sets of doors, and two elevators. By the time we were at our destination, I didn’t know if I was up four floors or down.

  The laboratory was really well lit. Brilliant white fluorescents covered the ceiling. Along one wall were gathered ten, maybe fifteen people. I was introduced as the ‘new Helsing’, but no actual names were mentioned. I got called “the new guy” and “the newest recruit”.

  “Time, ladies and gentlemen.” an announcement came calmly over the intercom. “If you would all gather at the window.”

  There was plenty room for all, and as I nestled before the dark glass, the light inside was switched on.

  “Argh!” a dull scream from inside.

  About ten feet in front of me was a large wooden table. A man lay on the table firmly tied by at least fifteen or more leather fasteners, about as thick as my belt. He was naked apart from a pair of shorts, and was maybe thirty years old, but his struggles made it hard to tell.

  Two men entered the room, one was Dave Muscat. They were dressed in black, and went to either side of the table, then tilted it up on some kind of hinge, so we could see better. When they had finished, the table was nearly vertical, and the man was screaming obscenities at them, then at us, spitting and yelling. Dave positioned a big blue bin at the bottom of the table.

  Dave’s voice came through clear, then I noticed a small mic, pinned into his black polo shirt. “Welcome ladies and gentlemen, and especially to our newest recruit. This is his first execution, please be kind.” Everyone nodded and I felt kinda embarrassed.

  “This creature here used to be Avery Peterson.” He indicated the man on the table, and Avery snarled on cue. “Avery is one of the oldest vampires in the country. We are proud to have caught him. Avery is over one hundred years old.”

  “Wow.” Mary-Christine said beside me. “This’ll be cool. This is the oldest I’ve seen, by far.”

  I checked out her profile. When Mary-Christine was concentrating, she got this wild look. Man she was the cutest thing, but right now her attention was grabbed by Mr. Avery Peterson.

  “You will now see what happens to an old vampire when he dies.”

  “Watch.” Mary-Christine grabbed my hand and held it tight. She was excited. “Watch carefully.”

  The two men inside put on gas masks which they checked, then checked each other’s.

  Avery was starting to get scared now, he was alternately looking from one to the other.

  Dave got a large tapered piece of wood, just over a foot long. It was dark brown, and sharpened to a very tapered, sharp point. Dave glanced in my direction, then stuck it firmly into Avery’s chest. It only went in an inch, but he screamed like he was in a vat of burning oil. The guy on the other side got a hammer, and with one huge swing, hit the stake into the vampire’s chest.

  The scream seemed to fill the whole building. He tensed one last time at the bindings, every sinew stretched to its utmost.

  He shook once, then was still.

  Then the man with the hammer hit the stake again, sending the stake thudding into the table.

  The men stepped back, but every eye was on Peterson.

  There was a moment of suspense, and I was wondering what everyone was watching for. Then the body began to disintegrate. Like the best Hollywood effect, his skin slowly putrefied, crisping before our eyes. After a few moments, it began to fall, sifting through the bones below. Lyman watched as the figure of Avery Peterson turned into a skeleton. It was an incredible sight.

  The stake stood firm, embedded into the table.

  Then the bones themselves began to crack and crumble. As they hit the table, they turned into fine powder, and sifted down the table, taking his shorts with it. Light brown powder. In less than a minute, Avery Peterson was a pile of dust on the table, slowly shifting to the tub on the floor.

  Suddenly, with the finality of a light bulb going off in my head, I believed.

  ~ ~ ~

  I could smell her through her window; Cami always slept with it open during the sum
mer. It would be so easy. There was an ivy-covered trellis that led right up to her room. Not like I needed it- but still.

  As I got up closer to the house, security lights flooded the whole yard and driveway. For a minute I totally froze, feeling like a common burglar. For some reason it was hard to get used to the idea that I could snap a full grown man in half. Once that thought sank in, though, I was up the trellis and dangling right outside Cami Two-Face’s room.

  She didn’t have any blankets on and was barely wearing anything at all. No clothes to help mask her scent with laundry detergent or something less savory than human blood. And the damn blowing fan brought her smell right to me.

  I remembered that rush; it was the same as the night Alan killed my parents. Once he turned me and I caught a whiff of their spilt blood, I was in a frenzy. It hadn’t happened since then, but my body was warning me that it was going to happen again.

  Every part of me was “on”. I was salivating like some bulldog or something. And I didn’t even realize that I was fingering my clit until I scratched myself. That was enlightening. Food and sex had become all one thing.

  At that point I realized I was too far gone to resist. Cami- once upon a time my best friend- was going to be dinner. And dessert. Dessert first.

  The window was wide the heck open. I should’ve been able to go right through. But, there was this invisible barrier keeping me out. I couldn’t even put my little finger over the sill. Then I remembered what Alan had told me- I had to be invited in. Apparently it didn’t matter that I’d practically lived at Cami’s house up until a couple months ago. Now that I was a vampire, I was as good as a stranger.

  I freaking hated all those stupid vampire rules!

  I got super desperate and began clanging on the glass, “Cami!” I called in a loud whisper, “Cami… wake up… we need to talk!”

  She stirred a little on her mattress but didn’t wake up. OMG- I wanted her… in every possible way I can mean that. Her skin looked as delicate as a flower petal; I was thinking thoughts like how soft it would be to touch and how easily my fangs would sink through. Same with her mouth; and I remembered the time we got drunk and made out. I was thinking how hot it would have been if I had killed her then. I was losing my mind.