No One Will Believe You

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No One Will Believe You Page 1

by Robert J. Crane




  No One Will Believe You

  Liars and Vampires, Book 1

  Robert J. Crane

  No One Will Believe You

  Liars and Vampires, Book 1

  Robert J. Crane

  Copyright © 2018 Ostiagard Press

  All Rights Reserved.

  1st Edition

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part without the written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, please email [email protected].

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Author’s Note

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Other Works by Robert J. Crane

  Chapter 1

  Lying is bad. Believe me.

  I’m a compulsive liar, which means I’ve lied about everything you can imagine. Sneaking out? Lied about it. Stealing stuff? Lied about that, too. Even stupid stuff, like where I got that shirt someone asked about. Totally lied.

  Getting chased by a vampire?

  Well, duh. Of course I lied about that. But probably not the way you’d think.

  Here’s the thing—I actually did get chased by a vampire.

  And when I got asked about it … I lied. Never happened, as far as I was concerned. Because that’s the problem with telling little lies. Eventually, you need someone to believe you when something big comes along. That’s why I’m giving it up. Going cold turkey. Walking the straight and narrow. Whatever cliché you want for this puppy … I’m leaving the way of the liar.

  Who is going to believe you about a vampire chasing you down a Tampa street at night when you’ve lied about everything else?

  Lies. The holes we dig with them.

  This was what I was thinking about in Math League—my new parent-inflicted after-school activity—when my name pulled me back to the equation-heavy decor of the room.

  “Cassandra?”

  I stifled a sigh and brushed a hair from my eyes, wishing again I hadn’t cut my hair to just above my shoulders. The curls weren’t very forgiving. “It’s Cassie.”

  The teacher, a heavyset woman with an obnoxious mustard yellow sweater on, pursed her lips in what might have been a smile and nodded her head. “Cassie. Did you do your work this week?”

  Definitely not. “Oh, yeah, I totally did.” I shrugged as if this next bit was sadness incarnate. “But I left it at home. Sorry.”

  The girls across from me snickered, drawing my attention. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at them and their Ugg boots.

  The teacher clicked her tongue in frustration. “If you want to be a part of this group, Cassie, you need to participate.”

  Joke’s on you, lady. I didn’t even want to join this dumb Math League.

  The teacher glanced at the clock in relief when I didn’t respond. “I guess I’ll let you leave on time today. “

  The mad dash to the door started, and I’m not ashamed to say I was right there with them.

  “Cassie?”

  I froze as other students filed past me, not even sparing me a glance. Slowly, I shifted around to look at the teacher, trying not to lose the ground I had gained toward escape. “Yes?”

  “I got an email from your mother. She said she’d pick you up today.”

  My mom … emailed my teacher?

  My jaw clenched, but I shrugged and flashed my best cover-story smile. “Okay, thanks. Guess my phone is dead or something.”

  I spun and followed everyone else into the hall, flowing down to the main lobby of the school, and stepped out into the humid but comfortable evening air. The sun had set, the last little bit of blue light overhead making the edge of the school courtyard look black against the sky.

  This was peak Mom, going straight to my teacher, in full passive-aggressive style. She wanted to bring someone else into our battle of wills without actually telling them what was up? That’s fine.

  I’ll just walk home on my own. Boom—the simple elegance of a middle finger without me actually have to flip my mom off.

  Besides, it was a beautiful night. It would be a shame to waste it.

  I caught a glance of myself in the mirrored glass of the school’s windows and stopped to brush some of my brown hair behind my ears. I frowned. How long had I looked like such a mess?

  I shook it off and kept walking.

  It was easy to see the Tampa skyline, only a few miles ahead, shining against the coming darkness. The pink and blue and red lights reminded me of Christmas trees, all twinkling and shining. I recognized houses, street signs, and restaurants along the way.

  Across the street, Alexandra, a girl I recognized from Math League, walked along the far sidewalk. She hadn’t said two words to me since I had moved here. But neither had anyone else, really. Tough being the new kid, I guess.

  I turned left down the next sidewalk, a street with some more glowing streetlights and general suburbia. It was … peaceful.

  Also … boring. Really, really boring.

  But who knew when I would get another chance to walk around like this, all alone, unsupervised?

  I glanced behind me. Alexandra must live this way, because she was still following along the same path, now behind me, on the same side of the street. But she had her headphones on, large bright green ones, and her nose was buried in her phone.

  “Hey.”

  I almost jumped out of my skin as a voice sounded right beside me. I snapped my head around as I looked for its source, and my skin tingled with surprise.

  A boy, probably my age or maybe a year older than me, grinned casually as if he had been walking beside me the whole time. His hands were in the pockets of his designer jeans. He wore a white North Face jacket.

  And he was gorgeous.

  He was lean, like a runner, with a narrow jaw, shaggy, honey-colored hair that hung over his forehead like he had woken up that way, and large, sad dark eyes.

  The sight of him had my heart racing for a different reason than the fear I’d felt a moment before. And he was talking to me?

  “Hey,” I said, and then felt like an idiot for how breathy it sounded. Either he didn�
�t notice, or he didn’t mind my total dweebitude bleeding through. “You just got done with Math League, right?”

  Clearly I would have remembered someone as hot as he was, but I couldn’t place him. My school was huge, though. It was definitely possible I just hadn’t come across him yet.

  “Yeah. You’re just getting out of …” He looked like a jock. It was like a high school rule that all jocks were hot. “Lacrosse?” What the heck sport was going on right now?

  He shook his head, his eyes still on me, making my knees feel like jelly. “No. Drama club. We’re doing Hamlet.”

  I nodded. I had no idea about Hamlet, at least nothing more than the name.

  “I’m sorry, have we met?” I asked, feeling guilty. “I’ve met so many people since I moved here … ” I shrugged as if to say, Who can keep them all straight?

  It was only half-true. I’d certainly been in classes with lots of people. But as far as actually meeting anyone … say, that I could have lunch with?

  Yeah … I wasn’t struggling to remember that extensive list of zero names.

  He grinned mischievously at me, but for some reason, the grin put me on edge more than it put me at ease.

  “Not yet, no,” the boy replied, his eyes sad and tilted. “But I was hoping we could be friends.”

  A shiver ran down my spine, and suddenly, I wished this part of town was more familiar. Who was this guy, and where had he come from?

  “Um, yeah …” I took a small step away from him, pulling my backpack farther up my shoulder. “Sure, I guess.”

  “You guess?” he replied. “I’ve been very interested in you since I first saw you, Cassandra.”

  I bit down on the tip of my tongue. Red flags! “It’s Cassie,” I corrected, and I glanced over my shoulder. I was looking for an exit. I was all about cute guys, especially when I was presently the loneliest girl on Lonely Island—not the comedy guys—but this guy was creeping me out.

  Alexandra was still back there and, even more surprisingly, she was staring at me. When we made eye contact, her eyes widened as if she was trying to ask me a question.

  I glanced back to the boy beside me before turning down the street to my left, knowing I was only a few blocks from home at most. Uh, I thought. I didn’t know the area well enough to be totally sure. Why did all these houses look the same? Tampa was now to my left, the bay was ahead of me. I didn’t know how far, but I could smell the salt in the air.

  But “close” only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.

  “Can I walk you home?” the boy asked.

  I smiled a tight smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name.”

  He looked affronted. His brow furrowed, and his eyes searched my face.

  “My name is Byron Vesper. Now … may I walk you home?” He spoke so formally, so stilted, as if he were going to drop to a knee and ask me for the honor of my company at any moment. It was strangely at odds with the aura of menace I was starting to pick up.

  “No,” I answered, feeling my first shock of cold in this winter in the South.

  He stopped walking. I chanced a glance over my shoulder and saw he was staring at me. But he didn’t look angry. No, he had a sad smile on his face, as if he pitied me.

  I heard footsteps on my other side as Alexandra came up beside me, the look of a solidarity sister on her face. I turned to keep walking, letting her fall in next to me.

  “Sorry, but was that guy harassing you?”

  This close, I could see her eyes were a bright, icy blue. Contacts, maybe?

  “I … I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “He was … kind of pushy. “

  “Some guys are creeps, you know?” Alexandra said, looking back toward where we’d left Byron. She stutter-stepped to a halt.

  “What?” I asked, and followed her gaze back over my shoulder.

  I frowned at empty sidewalk. “Where did he go?”

  Chapter 2

  “Okay, that was super weird,” Alexandra said.

  I watched as she brushed a strand of shimmering blue hair behind her ear. Did she put glitter in her hair?

  “You’re not kidding,” I said, still watching the spot where he had been standing. “Maybe he got the picture.”

  “Hmm … “ She turned her bright blue eyes on me. “Do you know him?”

  I shook my head, a new sense of dread washing over me. “No, do you? He said he was part of the drama club. “

  Alexandra looked over her shoulder again, maybe without even realizing it. “One of my friends is in drama club. They don’t even meet tonight. Maybe he’s new?”

  “Yeah, maybe … but he seemed too familiar with me.” I tried to suppress a shudder. “He knew my name, too.”

  “Cassie, right?”

  “Yeah.” I almost smiled, immediately warming to her for not calling me Cassandra.

  She nodded in understanding. She gestured for the sidewalk, and I fell into step beside her again. “Totally get it. I go by Xandra, but almost everyone calls me Alex.” I looked at her hair, her style, and her small, absolutely adorable kitten earrings. Unconventional nickname? Made total sense.

  We had come to a nice wooded part of the development we were passing, when a rustling sound reached us. It wasn’t the usual rustling that came from bushes; normally that came from lizards, or squirrels, or even the occasional armadillo. This sounded way bigger than any of those.

  I nearly jumped on Xandra’s toes as I hopped away from the bushes. We waited, breath held—then, shakily, I dragged my phone from my pocket and, after a few fumbled attempts, opened the flashlight app.

  The bright light shone into the bushes, and all I could see was green and shadow. A bush or two swayed as if caught in a wind, or maybe as if something had just vacated the spot. I half-expected to see Byron standing there, staring at us. He was not.

  I turned off the flashlight, but I didn’t feel any better.

  Xandra stood staring at the bushes, chewing her bottom lip. Then, before I realized what was happening, she put her hand on my shoulder and whipped me around, guiding me away.

  “Wait. I live down near the bay,” I said, pointing toward the street to my left. I still didn’t recognize where I was, but I knew I could get home if I could just …

  “What if he follows you home?” she said, dropping her hands. “We should make sure we lost him.” Oh … right. Okay.

  Ignoring the unease creeping back into my stomach, I said, as conversationally as could possibly be expected under the circumstances (you know, with a possible creeper following us), “Do you have experience with this or something? Stalkers, I mean?”

  She looked up at me, a shadow of a smile on her face. “I know these streets like the back of my hand, and yeah, I’ve had my share of unwanted attention.”

  I swallowed hard. “Okay. “

  We walked in silence for nearly a block, the sky growing darker by the second. I listened to every noise, wondering if Byron was going to reappear somewhere.

  “There’s this great ramen shop a few blocks from here,” Xandra said. “I go like, all the time. Do you like Japanese food?”

  “I haven’t had much of it, honestly,” I said, and to my surprise, I realized I’d just told her the truth. Shifting attention to analyzing every sound was taking me off guard, and apparently I felt no need to lie. At least to her.

  At least not yet.

  She turned us down a street into another extension of Tampa, with more industrial buildings, warehouses, and fewer streetlights.

  I hesitated, and Xandra turned to look at me. “You coming?”

  I nearly shrieked, because standing behind her, just out of the light of the lamp, was Byron.

  “What?” she asked, seeing what must have been a horrified look on my face.

  Byron stepped into the light, and Alexandra jumped, hurrying to stand beside me under the safety of another street light.

  His face was split in an easy smile, his hands in his pocket, his hair tussled in an alluring way.
He ran his hands through it, making it even messier—and somehow, in spite of the alarm bells he set ringing inside me, even more attractive.

  My heart thudded against my rib cage. I could hear Alexandra breathing a little too hard beside me.

  I felt trapped, utterly unable to move. A slight shiver threatened to quake its way through my spine.

  I stammered, “What … what are you doing? Why are you following us?”

  “What are you talking about, Cassie? I’ve been with you this whole time.” And then he threw back his head and laughed like it was the biggest joke.

  The shiver running through me turned to a hard, painful prickling sensation, and I took a step back down the street.

  It was weird how quiet this street was. There were very few cars for just after rush hour. The sidewalks were empty, and a lot of windows in the surrounding buildings were dark.

  Byron took a step toward us, his eyes heavy-lidded and his gaze sharp.

  “Stay away,” I said, and I felt Xandra latch onto my arm, and squeeze with a vice-like grip.

  He chuckled, low and deep in this throat, and with a sneer on his face, he started to walk toward us.

  I grabbed Xandra’s hand. Without looking both ways, I ran across the four-lane street. I didn’t look back over my shoulder until we had reached the other side.

  “Where’d he go?” Xandra asked.

  I squinted through the dark, realizing the many shadows along the street were working against us, but I quickly understood what she meant.

  Byron was nowhere in sight. Again.

  “What the hell is going on?” I said, my blood pulsing in my ears, making it hard to track anything else over the noise.

  “I don’t know, but we need to get off the street,” Xandra said. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and tried to click on the screen. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

  “What?” I glanced at the screen.

  It stayed dark.

  “Battery’s dead.”

  I pulled my own phone out. The battery at the top right of the screen was almost empty, and a lonely “1%” beside it taunted me.

 

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