by Laura Hysell
“Remember the fight you had with those guys in the alley?” I asked as I began pulling drawers open. I pulled a small knife out and held it up, glancing at Mark. He nodded his head, his eyes glued on the knife. “When you broke that baseball bat some pieces went flying and embedded in my arm. When I pulled them out, they healed up instantly. I didn’t really think about that before, until Jed mentioned the quick healing people receive from drinking vampire blood.” I quickly pulled the knife across my hand just before Mark grabbed it out of my hand. I watched the blood well as Mark ran around the counter and grabbed a towel, pushing it against my hand.
I wiped the towel across my hand and inspected the wound. A lot of blood was on the towel, but my hand was flawless. Mark took my hand in his and examined it while I reached out awkwardly and grabbed another shot of whiskey. “I hardly even felt it,” I muttered, downing the shot, “just like I don’t feel this.”
“You’re not invincible, Izzy. And I’d be willing to bet you’d heal slower with a more serious wound,” Mark replied, still holding my hand. “I’d rather not test the limits of this vaccine full of vampire blood.”
“Well, I guess I should look on the bright side,” I said, hefting the whiskey bottle. “I won’t get drunk!”
Mark chuckled and took the bottle from my hand. “You won’t get drunk for now. I hope that over time with no vamp contact the effects will leave your system. I think that’s why the vaccine is supposed to be given in three injections, to stabilize the vampire connection for as long as possible. On the news they’re talking about adding yearly booster shots.”
“Yearly?” I asked, feeling my eyebrows rise in surprise. “Does that mean that three injections of vampire blood will last for a year? What about one injection, or two?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess down the road we can do the alcohol test to find out how strong the connection is though,” he adding, smiling. “I wouldn’t suggest testing the connection by cutting yourself though.”
“How do we sever the connection? I don’t want to keep having these dreams for a year, Mark.” I doubted I could resist the vampire for a year. He was amazing. I quickly turned my thoughts away and focused back on Mark.
“We kill the vampire, of course. If the vampire is gone, there's no connection to worry about.”
We kill them? Was he crazy? I ground my teeth together and pulled my hand away from Mark. “And what about the fact that I probably have two vampires linked to me? Did you think about that? I know I did. Why else would I be dreaming of two different vamps? Or the fact that we don’t know who these vampires are, or how to find them, let alone kill them! There has to be another way!”
“John is our resident vampire expert, and he thinks that because you have two different vampires fighting for control of you the connections are weaker. I’m not sure what would happen if we killed one vamp and not the other, though. It could strengthen the connection with the other vamp, or maybe it would do nothing. Perhaps it would sever all connections. We just don’t know.” He sighed and leaned against the bar. I wondered if Mark was as frustrated by all of this as I was.
“So he thinks my connection is weaker than if I had one full vampire in control? How would killing one of the vampires make this better? I almost died from this damn vampire shit already. What about everyone else out there, Mark?” I asked as I drummed my fingers on the smooth bar. How many people had gotten an injection already? How many people had gotten all three? “At least I know what’s going on. What’s happening to everyone else? Has anyone died from it? Are they turning into mindless vampire slaves? Are they having strange dreams that they can’t explain?”
Mark shook his head. “If there have been deaths, I haven’t heard. As for them turning into slaves, I don’t think so. Even the humans who repeatedly drink vampire blood remain who they are. That’s part of the problem with identifying who is under vampire control and who isn’t. They talk and act completely normal, until they do something that isn’t normal for them. They may not be mindless slaves, but we’re not sure how much control they have over their actions. Jed has people looking into that already, including John.”
“So, basically you don’t know anything,” I muttered sullenly.
“Sorry,” he said softly. “We’re doing our best.”
“Did they give you the injection?” I asked suddenly, remembering the IVs that had been hooked up to his arms. The men in suits had captured him the same time as me, and whoever was in charge had been pretty set on making sure I received the vaccine. “Was that what that silvery stuff in your IV was? Have you had vamp dreams too, or is that just me?”
Mark smiled and shook his head. “Werewolves are immune to vampire blood. I’m pretty sure they had some sort of silver concoction in my IV. That’s why I was so out of it when you found me. Werewolves are sort of allergic to silver. I couldn’t turn into a wolf and escape with all that silver running through me.”
“Maybe they were trying to find a way to give you the blood too. Worldwide vampire control won’t work if you have a bunch of werewolves who are immune,” I added.
Mark frowned in thought, taking in my words. “Perhaps,” he said softly. “Well, if that was their plan it didn’t work. I haven’t had any weird issues or dreams or anything that would indicate a vampire connection.”
“Okay, well that’s good. I think having a bunch of werewolves under vampire control would be a bad idea. ”
Mark chuckled and nodded his head. “That would be bad. I don’t even want to think about it. It’s bad enough thinking about the entire human population being infected.”
Could it actually happen? Could the entire human population become vampire slaves? How long would it take? Mark took my hands in his, pulling me out of my reverie.
“Thank you for rescuing me, Izzy,” he said softly. I looked up into his soft brown eyes. “I should have thanked you earlier, but I guess a lot has been going on. I owe you my life. They may not have been able to inject me with their blood, but I’m sure they were keeping me alive for a reason and I doubt I would have liked it. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”
“You saved me, too, so I’d say we’re even,” I replied, smiling back at him. “Thank you too, Mark.”
He grinned and pulled me to him, releasing my hands and wrapping his arms around me in a fierce hug. I leaned my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat steadily as I wrapped my arms around his waist. We stayed like that for several minutes, and I felt some of the tension and anxiety I’d been feeling melt away. I’d needed this, I realized. I’d been seeking comfort in the wrong place. Alcohol may not work on me, but a hug from someone I care about sure did help me relax.
“Vanessa is here,” Mark said suddenly. I pulled away and looked toward the door, but saw no one. “I heard the front door close, and I can smell her. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
Mark grabbed my hand and we headed into the smaller living room, where a slender young woman with bright pink hair spiked up all over was standing. The girl appeared to be somewhere in her early twenties. She wore black combat boots, torn jeans and a black mesh tank top with nothing under it but a very visible bright pink bra. There were piercings on her ears, lip and eyebrow. She smiled broadly when we walked in and rushed at Mark. Mark released my hand as he and the woman hugged. “It is great to see you again, M-Dawg,” she said, punching him on the shoulder.
Mark chuckled as he mussed her hair. “Great to see you too, Vanessa. I like the pink look. This is Izzy,” he said, indicating me.
I smiled and held out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” I said. Instead of shaking my hand, Vanessa reached out and pulled me into a hug. I could hear her sniff the air around me as she held me.
“Any girl of Mark’s is a friend of mine,” she said, squeezing me tightly.
“I’m not Mark’s girl,” I said, pushing back on her gently.
Vanessa released me and stood back with her hands on her hips. She glanced at
Mark and then back at me, a small frown on her face. “You’re covered in his scent,” she said certainly. “Plus you walked in here holding hands.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m his girl,” I retorted. Dealing with werewolves and their heightened senses was getting on my nerves. “Don’t I have your scent on me now, too?”
She held up her hands in surrender, grinning. “Okay, okay, no offense meant. You just seem to have a lot of his scent on you.” She turned and skipped around the couch, opening a large case that was sitting on the coffee table. “Jed called me this morning and told me about you two being on the most-wanted list. I’m here to do a makeover! I can’t do much for Mark, but I can definitely change your appearance enough. So, how do you want your hair?”
My eyebrows rose as I walked around the couch and glanced into the case. All sorts of hair salon products and tools were inside the large case. I glanced over to Mark, but he wasn’t there. I looked around the room but couldn’t find him anywhere. I looked back at Vanessa and her pink hair, then back to the case. My hand drifted of its own accord to my long blonde hair. I loved my hair! Other than a botched dye attempt when I was 15, I’d never had chemicals of any kind on my hair.
“You look kind of queasy,” Vanessa said slowly as I sat down on the couch.
“I don’t dye my hair,” I said, stroking my long blonde tresses. “I don’t cut it, either.”
“Do a lot of people know that about you?”
I nodded. “When I was 15 I had a friend with beautiful red hair and flawless skin. She was popular and had a ton of boyfriends. I, on the other hand, was a skinny, quiet, flat-chested girl with horrible acne. I didn’t know the first thing about styling my hair and never wore makeup. I also had never had a boyfriend. For some reason I got the bright idea that having red hair would change all that. So I went to the store, bought a box of hair color, and dyed my hair. It was the worst mistake ever.”
“Didn’t look too good, huh?” she asked.
I shook my head. “It was pretty much a disaster. It turned out this bright orange color. I looked like Ronald McDonald! I had to beg my dad to take me into a salon to fix it. Unfortunately we didn’t have much money, and my dad didn’t know any better. He took me to the barber shop he used.” I shuddered, thinking about it. “On the upside, my hair wasn’t orange any more, but a kind of weird brownish color that I could handle. The big problem was that I had fried my hair, so instead of Ronald McDonald, I looked like a brunette Einstein. I think I wore hats for three months before I ended up just chopping my hair off at my ears in a short bob. After that I vowed to never dye my hair again.”
Vanessa chuckled and put a hand on my shoulder. “I am a professional and I promise you will like whatever I do,” she said. “If everyone is looking for a woman with long, blonde hair…” she trailed off and I found myself nodding slowly. I really didn’t want to be stuck in this house forever, and if a minor makeover could change my appearance enough it was worth a shot. I could handle a change, at least until we proved our innocence and were able to come out of hiding.
“What did you have in mind?”
Chapter 10
Several hours later, I was staring at a different person in the mirror. Never in a million years had I thought I would cut my hair, let alone dye it. Vanessa stood behind me, grinning widely. We had spent probably 30 minutes arguing back and forth about what to do, when Vanessa finally just said I had to trust her and let her do her thing. I had argued about just getting a perm or something, but she said that wasn’t drastic enough, even if the perm had taken hold on my straight hair. I had laid down rules beforehand though. I wouldn’t do some things. No haircuts above the chin and no red hair were the two items at the top of my list.
I ran a hand through my hair, marveling at how different I looked. I had to admit, it looked pretty amazing, and very different. My hair was still long, but with layers and side-swept bangs. The color was a chocolate brown with subtle highlighting to make it look natural and absolutely beautiful. Vanessa had also carefully dyed my eyebrows so it looked realistic. Just the color change had me looking like a completely different person. She had also promised that she could dye my hair back.
I shifted my eyes to Vanessa, who was bouncing in the mirror behind me. “Well?” she asked.
I took a deep breath and turned around to face her. “I love it,” I said, smiling. “Although I do miss my blonde hair, I have to admit this is pretty amazing. I don’t think anyone will recognize me like this. Honestly, I think my own brother would have to do a double-take.”
“I knew it!” she cried, hugging me. “Mark’s going to go ape-shit! You look down-right sexy as hell!”
I shook my head as she stepped away, glancing at myself once more in the mirror. The hairstyle was definitely sexy, but her comment had me cringing. Did I care what Mark thought? I wasn’t sure what I felt concerning him. There were definitely feelings there, but I wasn’t sure of the extent. So much had happened in the last few days that I hadn’t really had time to examine my feelings. I was definitely attracted to him physically, but I always had been. Was that all there was to it? Did I want more?
“You okay?” Vanessa asked. “Your heart just sped way up and you look kind of pale.”
I rolled my eyes and turned to Vanessa. “I’m fine,” I muttered. “Quit using your werewolf powers on me.”
She laughed softly, but her eyes were still very serious. “Okay, whatever you say,” she replied, obviously not believing me but letting it go nonetheless. “Hair and makeup are done, so now it’s time for clothes.”
“What?” I exclaimed, glancing at Vanessa’s poor excuse for a shirt. There was no way I was wearing a shirt like hers.
“Well, you can’t run around in a t-shirt and jeans with sexy-as-hell hair. It just doesn’t go together. I know Mirabelle bought you clothes, but her style is way too conservative.”
“I like conservative,” I muttered, crossing my arms.
Vanessa chuckled, nodding her head. “Yeah, I kind of figured you did. Remember, everyone will be looking for the blonde, conservative schoolteacher. Lucky for you, I brought a whole car full of clothes! Meet me in your room,” she added, running out of the bathroom.
I groaned as I made my way upstairs to my room. I felt guilty that Mirabelle had already gone to such lengths to buy a dresser full of clothes. I opened the drawers and pawed through the clothes. They were very plain, consisting of t-shirts of various cuts and simple jeans. I supposed Vanessa had a point regarding clothing, but I wasn’t sure about Vanessa’s style. Wasn’t a new dramatic hairstyle enough of a difference? Did I really have to change my wardrobe style as well? Even with all these changes, I somehow doubted Jed and the werewolves would let me go anywhere.
My bedroom door banged open and Vanessa came in with a huge box in her hands and a large suitcase on wheels rolling behind her. She dropped the box on the bed and hefted the suitcase up beside it, unzipping and opening it. I stepped forward, cautiously examining the contents. Vanessa pulled out several pairs of jeans first and I picked them up one by one, pleasantly surprised. While they seemed to be mostly skinny jeans, there were no strange holes anywhere. Next, Vanessa pulled out various tops in a variety of styles. They were definitely edgier, but nothing I was immediately opposed to wearing. I peered into the box, finding an assortment of dresses, shoes and lingerie.
Vanessa sorted through the clothes quickly and quietly, moving the clothes Mirabelle had bought to the back of the dresser and placing the ones she brought up front. As soon as she was done, she grabbed a pair of black skinny jeans and a low-cut black top and tossed them at me. “Put these on,” she ordered.
I turned to go change in the bathroom, but Vanessa stopped me before I left the room. She thrust a set of matching black lacy bra and panties into my arms as well. “I’m already wearing underwear,” I replied.
She shook her head. “You can’t wear sexy clothes with ugly underwear. Besides, what if you’re in a car accident and the EMT
’s have to cut off your clothes? Do you want to be wearing ugly underwear? You never know when you’ll have an under clothes emergency. Trust me, put these on.”
The underwear Mirabelle had brought was plain, but I didn’t think it was ugly. And if I couldn’t leave the house, I really doubted I’d be in a car accident. I looked up at Vanessa, who had her arms crossed defiantly. She obviously wasn’t taking no for an answer, so I took the clothes from her hand and walked across the hall to the bathroom. I quickly dressed in the outfit she had picked out, examining myself in the mirror. The top was see-through and cut in a V that showed considerable cleavage. I opened the bathroom door and made sure no one was around before scurrying back to the bedroom. I closed the door and turned for Vanessa to see the outfit. She oohed and clapped her hands, but I felt ridiculous.
“You can see my bra,” I said slowly as I turned to look at myself in the mirror above the dresser. “I don’t think I can do this.”
Vanessa stared at me for a heartbeat, then sighed and nodded. “Okay, we can tone this down a bit. You have to feel comfortable in the clothes you wear, otherwise you’ll be miserable.”
Vanessa turned and rifled through the clothes and pulled out a black camisole and a long gray cable knit sweater. I exchanged tops and glanced in the mirror. The new outfit was much better. I still wasn’t so sure about the black knee-high boots Vanessa thrust at me, but I let it go and pulled them on. The point of all this was so I could go out in public and no one would recognize me. My usual workday attire consisted of conventional long dresses or slacks, and this outfit was nothing like that. This outfit bordered the line of sexy, without going overboard.
“Well?” Vanessa asked. I glanced over at her and smiled, giving her two thumbs up. “Yes! Let’s go downstairs and wow Mark!”
