The Unearthly (The Unearthly Series)

by Laura Thalassa

  ***

  I stood there for a long time afterwards, my thoughts far away.

  My skin prickled, and the hair on the back of my neck rose. I put a fisted hand to my mouth, muffling my rising scream.

  He was here. The man in the suit. I could sense him before I saw him.

  I looked down the cobbled street and there he stood under a streetlamp.

  I nearly stumbled from shock. He had almost always sought discretion when he appeared before me. Now, his obvious presence felt more menacing than before, as though he no longer feared making contact with me.

  I stayed still, staring at him. To run seemed foolish. I couldn’t hide from him.

  He spoke to me, his words tickling my skin as though he stood right next to me.

  “Hello Gabrielle.” The man inclined his head in greeting. “I have waited a long time for this night.”

  I met his terrible gaze. “What do you want?” I whispered.

  “You.”

  Chapter 10

  “WHY?” I RECOILED at the thought.

  He just smiled. “… Although it appeared that I almost lost you a couple nights ago. Heinous thing death is. Luckily, you’ve now cheated it.” His gaze never wavered, and even from the distance his eyes were deep and dreadful, hiding all sorts of unpleasant secrets.

  “How did you know that?” My voice shook, and any semblance of bravery crumbled.

  “I’ll be watching you Gabrielle.”

  He winked, and his form was blown away by a fierce wind that tore at my hair.

  I rubbed my tingling ear, wanting to wipe away the closeness of his words. They felt too much like a lover’s caress. My hands trembled, and I took a few deep breaths to calm myself.

  It was strange walking back into my building. A different woman sat at the security desk, and she didn’t bat an eyelash when I walked in and signed my name on the activity log, even though it was late.

  I could really get used to this newfound autonomy the school offered.

  When I stepped onto my floor, I had the misfortune of running into Doris, who was her usual catty self.

  She looked me up and down. “Are you a zombie now, or a bloodsucker?”

  I ignored her, and kept walking to my door.

  I heard her call to my back. “I hope you know that everyone thinks you’re a sorry freak.”

  My ability to put up with crap was spent after the evening’s events. That, at least, was the only excuse I had for what I did next.

  I turned, quicker than her eyes could follow, and was on Doris in an instant. I pushed her against the wall, and it pleased me to hear her pathetic whimper. My reflexes were now quicker than my emotion, and it was only after I had pinned her that I felt some dark, primordial excitement pulse through me.

  I made eye contact with her, and whatever she saw in them made her flinch. I could feel my anger growing, feeding on itself.

  “You’re right Doris.” I spoke low so only she could hear me. “I am a freak. But I’m also a predator, and you, Doris, are most definitely prey. Just remember that next time you want to pick a fight.”

  I let her go and watched her stumble away to her roommate, who stood at end of the hallway. I took a few deep breaths, trying to reign in my uncharacteristic anger.

  Doris glanced back at me to shoot me a glare, but it was her roommate’s expression that haunted me. She looked at me like I was a monster. Worst of all, I believed it myself.

  ***

  “My love! You’re all right!” Oliver squeezed me against his nonexistent bosom, showering me with affection I ill-deserved. “We thought you were dead!”

  He and Leanne had decorated our dorm with balloons and a “Get Well” sign. I guess they ran out of “Glad You Didn’t Die” and “Please Don’t Eat Me” banners at the drugstore. But it was incredibly sweet, even if I still felt like a complete schmuck for scaring Doris. I’d sat in the stairwell for a good fifteen minutes before I mustered the courage to face my new friends.

  Leanne came up to me and squeezed my hand. “She deserved it,” she said.

  I must’ve looked shocked because Leanne laughed and said, “I’m a seer. And I totally foresaw that fight go down about three hours ago, much to my excitement.”

  When I didn’t laugh, she added in, “Sorry.”

  I shook my head. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault at all. I’m just a little overwhelmed with everything that’s happened since the Awakening.” She nodded sympathetically. “Aren’t you guys freaked out that I’m going to become a vampire?”

  Oliver began to laugh hysterically. “Seriously Gabrielle? Look who you’re talking to—I’m a gay fairy. I’m the world’s biggest cliché. It’s not like we get to choose these things. Besides, fairies are also ‘evil’ according to that stupid textbook of ours.”

  “And I know a good person when I see one,” Leanne said, snickering at her own joke. “Get it?”

  “Please, Leanne,” Oliver said. “Just stop it with the seer jokes. You’re beating a dead horse, only this poor horse died hours—”

  I grabbed my friends and went in for a group hug. “You guys are amazing.”

  “Duh,” Oliver said. “As if you hadn’t figured that out by now.”

  ***

  The next morning my alarm clock went off. I groaned, rubbing my temples. I’d stayed up way too late.

  “No,” Leanne moaned. She had too.

  “Tell me about it,” I muttered.

  An hour later the two of us stumbled outside. Oliver leaned against our building’s wall. “What took you broads so long?”

  I gave him the stink eye.

  “Ah. You two didn’t get your beauty sleep. … Well, let’s get going. Don’t want to be late on our first day.”

  The Isle of Man decided it was going to be sunny today, an unusual occurrence. The sun was painfully bright, making my eyes tear up. Stupid vampire genes.

  We crossed campus and entered the castle. Around us, teens were hurrying off to class. I pulled out my schedule.

  Period 1: Science and Magic

  Period 2: Supernatural Combat

  Period 3: History of the Isle of Man

  Period 4: Creatures of the Night: The Anthropology of Nocturnal Beings

  Lunch

  Period 5: The Politics of the Supernatural Species

  Period 6: Enchanted Engineering

  I’d never heard of any of these classes, although some slightly resembled the regular world equivalent.

  Taking out a map of the campus, I tried to figure out where my first class was. The school’s dizzying layout was giving me a headache.

  Leanne read over my shoulder. “I think your first class might be down that hall.” Leanne pointed to a hall branching off to the left. “Let’s meet outside for lunch.”

  We broke up and went our separate ways. Even with Leanne’s help, I was still late. I stealthily slipped in but forgot to shut the door quietly. The sound of the thick oak door closing reverberated along the stone walls. Thirty heads turned in unison—including the teacher’s. My cheeks burned.

  “How nice of you to join us,” Professor Nightingale commented sarcastically before turning back to the board. “Please take a seat.”

  I nodded and looked for an empty desk. The students around me whispered to each other, casting nasty glances my way. I took in a shaky breath and began moving down an aisle, spotting a couple of empty chairs towards the back.

  I sat down next to a plump girl with fiery red hair, thinking she appeared friendly. But the moment I glanced her way, she looked positively horrified. I smiled, trying to calm her uneasiness, but I no longer had the ability to look innocent. I cringed as she got up and scurried to the next available seat, leaving me to my new status as a social pariah.

  I spent the next thirty minutes distracted as Professor Nightingale prattled on about class policies and procedures. Thanks to my heightened hearing, I overheard every mean conversation whispered between classmates, all discussing yours truly. My class
mates believed I was a freak, a monster, unnatural, and evil. I tried to stay calm, breathing in and out steadily and silently chanting, “Don’t cry. Don’t cry,” over and over.

  I hadn’t been especially liked at my old high school, but at least no one thought I was a monster.

  The hateful conversations halted as a voice boomed from above, filling the chamber. “Gabrielle Fiori, please report to the principal’s office.” It took me a minute to realize the message was meant for me; I was busy looking for the nonexistent intercom. I guess they’re useless if you have magic.

  Once I realized that I was the student getting publicly humiliated, my gut filled with dread. Apparently this horrible day was going to get worse.

  I packed up my notebook, listening to the chorus of whispers, and held my head high as I walked out of room, knowing thirty separate sets of eyes were staring at me.

  It was a relief to step into the empty hallway, but now I had to face my own worries. Why was I being called to the principal’s office?

  ***

  Inside the office, Mr. Hazard, Peel’s principal, sat behind a huge desk, intently reading and scribbling on the paper in front of him. I knocked on the opened door, not wanting to startle him.

  He looked up, and when he saw me, he rubbed a hand over his face, as though simply thinking of the task at hand made him weary.

  “Hello Miss Fiori.”

  “Um, hi,” I said nervously. I walked into his office and tentatively perched on one of the two dark leather seats across from him. I still couldn’t possibly fathom why I was in here.

  “A young woman came in this morning claiming you threatened her.”

  Doris. My shame at the previous night’s events and the oncoming punishment made me feel feverish.

  He continued. “Now normally, as a supernatural academy, we don’t deal with these juvenile spats. We understand that it can be difficult for students to deal with their newly Awoken abilities, but we expect all our students to act as mature young adults.

  “However, Miss Fiori, threats are taken very seriously. Do you understand?”

  I nodded.

  “I must impress upon you that your actions could—should—get you expelled.”

  I held my breath. Was I about to get kicked out of Peel Academy on my first day?

  “I’m glad you look concerned.” Mr. Hazard eyed my countenance. “It means my decision to let this event slide was not in vain.” For the first time since entering his office, he gave a small smile. I let out the breath I was holding.

  “But,” he stressed, “there are many who are, frankly, disturbed by your presence here. Traditionally, we have never accepted vampires into our school. To put it bluntly, had anyone known this was to happen, Peel would not have sought your attendance.

  “However, we cannot undo what has been done, and the academy takes full responsibility for your current state. The best thing that we can do now is to teach you the high morals of the supernatural community.”

  I was reeling from his words. Peel would not have accepted me had they known? Was being a vampire really that bad?

  Was I a bad person? I mean, I did scare Doris, and I once bumped a parked car and didn’t leave my insurance information.

  I shook myself of my doubts. Having a few extra superpowers didn’t change who I was.

  “How can you say that?” I whispered. “I’m still human.”

  Principal Hazard looked hard at me. Instead of sympathy, instead of pity, his gaze was flinty. He was one of them. For some unknown reason, he was appalled by my existence. The only surprise was why he hadn’t jumped on the opportunity to expel me.

  “Human?” he replied. “Only temporarily.”

  Chapter 11

  AFTER MY MEETING with Principal Hazard, I went back to class, but I wasn’t mentally present for the rest of the day. Everywhere students whispered about me—in class, in the halls, at lunch. Even fourth period, which should’ve been bearable because Oliver was in the same class, was soured as soon as I saw Doris’s blonde hair and her mean little smile. By the time the final bell rang, I couldn’t get out of class fast enough.

  My eyes stung as I clumsily jabbed my key a few times into the doorknob. It finally slid through, and I pushed into my room. Thankfully, Leanne hadn’t arrived yet. My confident veneer crumbled, and I swiped away a couple rebellious tears.

  I remembered some girls hating me in high school, mistakenly believing I was a threat to their relationships. Now I realized that my siren genes were likely to blame for their boyfriends’ wandering eyes and their own insecurities.

  But today? Today was different. The hatred directed at me wasn’t petty jealousy. It was a deep-rooted fear of things that go bump in the night. Only now, that bump had a face, mine.

  I took a couple deep breaths. Wallowing was nice, but only for so long.

  My book bag was slumped against the wall, and one of my textbooks peeked out. I pulled it out and looked over the cover. Living and Dying in a World of Wonder: An Introduction to Supernatural Beings. It was the book Andre had teased me about a few days ago.

  I walked over to my bed and plopped down with the book. I opened it, scanned the table of contents, and flipped to the section on vampires. I passed over the first few sentences about vampires being an abomination and skimmed the rest of the passage.

  The true horror of the vampiric condition is not the hapless victims whom the vampire kills, but those whom the vampire saves. This is because the origin of the vampire in the modern era began in 1321, somewhere near Bucharest, Romania.

  A Spanish merchant by the name of Salvatore de Leon met and married a Romanian woman during one of his travels.

  Near the turn of the fourteenth century they had a child by the name of Andre.

  I started at the name. Was I reading Andre’s biography? Curious, I read on.

  A few years later, the Plague swept through the Romanian village the family lived in at the time, infecting Salvatore’s wife. Salvatore prayed to God to save her, but salvation didn’t come and his wife died.

  Perhaps vampires would not have existed if the Plague had not returned to the tiny Romanian village two decades later. However, that was not to be, and in 1321, Andre, Salvatore’s son, was exposed to the illness and slowly began to die.

  Salvatore diligently prayed, but when prayer appeared to fail a second time, he cursed God and swore allegiance to the devil in return for the life of his son.

  It is said that the next day, a traveling merchant visited the village. The merchant approached Salvatore, saying that he heard Salvatore’s cry the night before and could grant his wish upon one condition.

  “I will give you what you most desire, the life of your son,” the merchant said, “in exchange for what you hold most dear.” Salvatore quickly agreed, believing the merchant was asking Salvatore’s earthly possessions as payment. But he had no sooner agreed than the merchant showed himself to be the devil, and Salvatore paid with his soul.

  Andre, now a man, was wiser than his father. When the devil came for Andre, he told the devil that his immortal soul was safe; Salvatore could not sell any soul other than his own. But the devil was still trickier. “I am not going to take your soul. I am here to heal you, and I will give you something men have sold their souls to possess, for I am benevolent.” And he bestowed upon Andre the gift of immortality.

  The gift, Andre soon found, was a thinly veiled curse, for he could only feast upon humans and awake at night. He was forbidden from entering hallowed ground. And while he had not forsaken his soul to the devil, the blood on Andre’s hands robbed him of forever entering heaven’s gates.

  And so the curse of vampirism is passed to every new member, for time corrupts even the most innocent.

  I stared at the page a few more seconds, disbelieving. I should’ve been worried about my own immortal soul, but instead I thought about Andre. I couldn’t reconcile this Andre, a victim of circumstance, with the Andre I knew—a vain, materialistic, and self-center
ed individual.

  At least I got to the root of everyone’s anger. I was destined for evil, and yet, through some loophole, I was allowed to walk the esteemed halls of Peel Academy. It must kill all those self-righteous snobs that the school was responsible for awakening my vampirism.

  Out of curiosity I flipped over to the section on sirens. I skimmed over the author’s boring commentary, until a section caught my attention.

  The siren’s power is sexually derived. This can be dangerous if misused, as both men and women can fall completely under their control when this power is exerted. Abuse of power is common, and this is where modern stereotypes of sirens come from.

  Less commonly known, these creatures are cursed with misfortune. The writings of Adeodatus follow seven generations of sirens, all of whom were victims of adultery, murder, incest, rape, espionage, treason, or suicide. His records indicate that none of these sirens lived past the age of thirty.

  I closed the book and sighed. I really did have some cursed genes.

  Leanne and Oliver came in a little while later, only to change and run off to a back-to-school mixer they were invited to.

  I tried to not let it get to me that I was obviously not invited. But as I lay on my bed, reading a novel I brought from Los Angeles, I couldn’t help but feel antisocial. Back at home I had lots of friends and regularly had plans. Now I was avoided.

  Almost as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, my phone started ringing.

  I looked at the caller, not sure who knew my new phone number. I had barely owned the phone a week.

  “Andre?” I read the caller ID out loud. How was his number saved onto my phone? Because I didn’t add it. And I definitely didn’t add the two emoticon hearts next to his name.

  I debated whether or not I should answer.

  Thinking about the Andre I read about earlier, I clicked “Accept.”

  “Hello?” I put the phone to my ear.

  “I was convinced you weren’t going to answer,” he said. “How long did you stare at my number before picking up?”

  “I thought you were a vampire, not a psychic.” How did he know?