Ya think? Ya dim nugget.
“Actually….” He stops, spinning on his heel to face me again. With a nasty smirk on his face, that I want to punch off, but he might like it. “Can I tell you a joke? I’m doing a stand-up show tomorrow, and I want to see if it’s funny.”
“Sure,” I mumble. It can’t be any worse than his personality. Damn that was mean.
“Knock, knock?” he starts, smirk turning into an even nastier grin.
I exhale. “Who’s there?”
“Mr. Winkie,” he says and unzips his pants and starts to pull Mr. Winkie out, probably thinking so he can play with it. When, in reality, if it gets anywhere near me, it’s gonna get cut off and shoved down his blasted throat.
Just as I’m about to jump on him and beat him in the head, Devin’s there, grabbing him by the back of the neck. The creep freezes in place, where I guess he was still trying to find his Mr. Winkie. Is it really that small?
“Have you been drinking again?” Devin asks calmly. I know he can easily get a whiff of his breath because I can smell it from over here.
“No,” the man snorts, taking a long slurp of his drink.
“Luke? Call a cab and make sure he gets in it,” he orders the guy who told him he was needed in his office.
“Yes, sir,” Luke replies, and hauls the drunken creep out of the room.
“Are you okay?” he asks me, running a hand through his hair.
“Sure.” I shrug.
“Damn, woman. I’m not gone more than an hour and you’ve already tried getting in someone else’s pants?” he asks with a hoarse cackle.
My fist connects with his face.
Someone gasps, and I realize what I did. “Oops, sorry,” I mumble, wincing. Of course it didn’t really hurt him. Hardly even knocked him back any, but I guess the people in the room don’t know it’s a bitch to even attempt to hurt a vamp.
“Sir, should I—” a woman starts with a disgusted sneer at me. But he holds up his hand and rubs his nose a little.
“It’s okay, Rose. Enjoy the time with your friends. She’s my girlfriend and I deserved that,” he reassures, resting his arm across my shoulders, pulling me against him.
“Heh.” I wiggle out from under his arm and everyone goes back to their business. I glance up at him to find he’s smiling down at me. “I really am sorry, ya know, no filter. Don’t think before I act.”
“Not a problem.”
“Devin—” I still feel horrible.
“Are you ready to go?” He cuts me off, and I nod once. I just want to go home and sleep this weird night off.
“And you still have explaining to do,” I remind him. He nods once. “But I really am—” he places a hand over my mouth as we go down the hallway, shutting me up.
<<<->>>
“Why do you always insist on doing this?” I grumble, letting him lead me along the pathway and up the steps to my house.
“Because I’m not a douche. Now stop complaining. And there’s a lot of weirdos out there.” Ever since he started driving me places, every time he’d bring me home he’d make sure to walk me to my door. Like the frog statue my mom has in our gardens gonna come to life and bite me or something.
“Whatever,” I grumble, trying to find my key. “Well, thanks…it was fun?”
“You need to work on your lying if you’re going to try and do it regularly.”
“I hate lying but yeah you caught me. I’ve had better nights.” I shove the key into the lock.
“Maybe we can hang out some other time, with fewer guys hounding you, I mean.”
“Maybe, but not tomorrow. I’ve got plans and what would we do anyway?” I glance back at him; he appears just as confused as I am. “Maybe we can stay in and watch some movies?”
“Sounds cool.”
“Okay then, well night. See you later.” I smile and go into the house.
“Night, jailbait,” he calls after me.
I flip him off.
CHAPTER THREE
~ It Moved ~
Sep. 21st
I didn’t sleep the greatest last night. I kept waking up, and I don’t know why. Maybe it was because my brain wanted to think about Devin. Or because there’s something stinky in my room and I cannot find where, or what, it is for that matter.
On the ride home, I basically interrogated him, and it turns out he’s been working with the CIA on an undercover operation named Speedo.
Yep, not really.
He owns the club, investing in it to make sure he has enough money to last him awhile. It was kinda boring, so I thought I’d spice it up a bit.
Anyway, today, I’ve been bombarded with questions from my friends. Who do not like Mr. Speedo or Devlin. He’s Speedo, Devlin Speedo.
Now I’m waiting on Kyle to come pick me up for what he said was a field trip. All I know is he better bring me my hot chocolate as I requested.
Tootles for now,
Nessa Gilmore.
I wonder if lying upside down, reading and watching TV along with eating peanut butter out of the jar can be considered a sport. I know I’d rock at least one that way.
Of course, my mom has to come in the room at this exact moment. She doesn’t say anything, just stares at me, shakes her head, and then jerks it toward the door.
“Your friends are outside,” she announces but she doesn’t say it like she’s speaking. She says it through her mind. This is her teaching technique, I guess, like in French class where the teacher only speaks in French.
It’s pretty brilliant, but, I can easily say, “Okay, merci, Maman.” I’ve tried so hard to communicate back with my mind. It just doesn’t work.
“Okay, thanks, Mom.” I don’t even try and roll out of bed.
“Care to leave the peanut butter?” she asks. I reluctantly hand it over, and she kisses me on the forehead.
“Oh, Mom?” I’m in one of those moods today. “Last night, I made out with Devin, and he groped me in inappropriate places.” Her face turns pink, and she opens her mouth to say something, but then she sees the grin on my face. “A reporter was hounding us, had to act.”
“That’s a nice excuse,” she responds, crossing her arms over her chest. “He is pretty cute. I was wondering when my devious daughter would manipulate the poor boy into something.”
“Hey, he’s the one that got happy!”
She just shakes her head and rolls her eyes, the normal response when she’s dealing with me. “Bye, love you,” she calls once again in my head as I make my way down the old, creaky white steps.
Grabbing my coat and a bottled water, I make my way out the door and to his car. He has people crammed in there. Even though he does have the biggest car, it still doesn’t appear too fun. I didn’t think it was physically possible to cram three buff football players into the backseat.
Opening the door, I frown at them, taking in the painfully pathetic sight. “I can always sit in the back. I’m smaller.”
“Yeah, why in the hell does she get to sit in the front?” Nicks asks, looking like a squished sardine.
“Because she’s a whole lot prettier than any of y’all, and she doesn’t reek,” Kyle sneers at them in the rearview mirror.
“Aw, he still thinks we’re pretty,” Antonio jokes cheerfully.
Nicks and Jake scowl at him.
As soon as I sit down and glance at them again they all laugh. “Had peanut butter?” Nicks asks, nudging my shoulder. Jake silently—as usual—hands me a mint.
“Thanks, Jakey.” I grin back at him. “So, where are we going?” Kyle opens his mouth but I continue, “Please don’t tell me it’s a surprise. I’ve had enough surprises.”
“What happened last night?” Antonio asks, knowing I was out with Devin.
“Had crazy monkey sex at a club, in a booth, where a lot of people could see. Drank a funny-tasting drink, and then danced on a pole for the rest of the night. Oh, yeah, and apparently my green bra was glowing through my shirt.”
Kyle nearly d
rives off of the road.
“What?” Jake exclaims. Ha, got him to talk. I try for it at least once a day.
“Are you serious?” Antonio asks quietly.
“Am I ever serious?” I retort. “We went to the city then to a club, where it was a rave. I think that’s what it’s called. Anyway, a reporter came up to me and started asking questions.” I let it sink in for them. “Asking about the rumors and then ‘my contacts.’ My eyes went all wonky, multicolored, ya know. I said something about my boyfriend and Devin came back with our drinks…then, after the dude left. We kinda made out.” These guys are like my brothers, and it’d be weird as hell to tell a brother this. “Only because the dude was still watching.”
“Oh,” Antonio mumbles.
This must be really uncomfortable for him. We dated for a few months but decided to just go back to being friends. I didn’t love him, and it was bland. Boring. I don’t know if he felt the same way because I nearly made him cry when I told him I wanted to break up, which made me feel like a horrible bitch. After that, he left for a little while to spend time with his grandma in Florida. When he came back, he was fine again.
I don’t know how a guy’s brain works. Every time I brought it up and apologized for hurting him, he waved it off like it didn’t bother him one bit. So, I leave it alone now.
For a guy named Antonio, you would probably think olive-toned skin, dark eyes, tall and handsome. But he’s not so much like that. At five foot seven, he’s the shortest in the group—aside from me. He still towers over me like everyone else. He’s pale but he does have the dark hair and dark eyes, and he is kinda sexy.
He asked me out at the end of one of their games, and he was just so sweet and cute, and he made me laugh. I thought, why not?
Things are still awkward as hell.
Of course, the rest of the guys have always been handsome, cute, and hot. However you want to say it. It could be because of the vamp thing they’ve got going on, or it could be in their other genes. Whatever it is, they’ve always been the lady magnets. I’ve come to think of it, every single vamp out there has something special about them that attracts the opposite sex.
Kyle has ash-blond hair that he keeps spiked up, tanned skin, and multicolored eyes that catch the girl’s attention the most. Because they are a gorgeous mixture of blue, green, and gold.
Nicks, well his real name’s Mark Nicks, but everyone calls him Nicks. He’s considered the pretty boy of the group. With his curly blond locks, tall, bulky frame, tanned skin, and crystal-blue eyes, he definitely gets more attention than the others. He’s really funny, sweet, and, well, sometimes he can be a douche, so let’s stick with funny and occasionally sweet.
With Antonio, it’s his nice smile.
With Jakey, I think it’s his hair. It’s long—shoulder length—auburn, and straight. Doesn’t frizz at all, which, I for one, am jealous of, and his hazel eyes and pale skin aren’t bad either.
And I’m just a potato, a sad one without hot chocolate.
“Do you like him?” I suddenly hear from the backseat. Bringing me back to the conversation I thought was over. The only sound in the small space is coming from the radio now.
“No, not really. Well, I like him as a friend but…yeah, not really,” I reply honestly. “What does it taste like when you kiss someone who just drank blood? ’Cause I’m still contemplating kicking his ass for that.”
They snort in reply.
<<<->>>
So the “field trip” was actually to the movies and out to eat. Pretty normal, which I was happy with. It was actually our cover story. The real reason we’re out is because we’re going to the morgue. Party at the morgue!
Yeah, really just kidding there….
My mom’s friend at work let her know that there’s a person who had his throat ripped out. In other words we need to investigate. This is our territory up here, and we’re not big on sharing. So, if someone’s hunting on our land, we need to know about it. Here I am talking like I’m a vamp, too.
Wow.
My stepdad’s the sheriff in this small town, which is translation for I’ve had all the keys copied. So, I can get into pretty much anywhere.
Hmm, maybe my mom’s right about me being devious.
She actually doesn’t know about that; there’s no way I’m telling her either. She’d take away my privilege to read. I don’t really do anything else when I’m not in school or doing my work. I’m such a rebellious teen, going to parties all the time, drinking and into drugs. No one can tie me down.
Ha-ha.
Sarcasm and rambling is what I do best. No wonder I’m single.
“Got everything?” Kyle asks nervously. He’s not really the type to break rules. So, doing something like this is big for him. He once freaked out about someone giving him an extra order of fries when he went to a drive-thru. So, who-the-hell-ever started the rumor all vamps are evil, vindictive douche nuggets hasn’t met him.
“Yeah, breathe, dude. Everything’s okay,” I reply, gently patting his arm.
He tries for a smile, but I can hear his teeth chattering.
Someone slaps the roof of his car twice, and I see blurred shadows jump up onto the roof of the building. Nicks and Jake. They’re the lookouts from up high. Antonio walks whistling around the corner, on his way to the front, to keep watch.
We’re sitting here, in the back parking lot. There’s a camera but my mom’s friend let me know that, for some odd reason, it won’t be working tonight. Something about a cut cord? She’s a vamp, too, so she knows just how annoying something like this is to happen in our own territory. There I go again.
The only reason I’m here is to see if I can get a reading off the guy. Another one of my mom’s assignments. She really should be a teacher. She’d be great at it. She’d just need a better student.
“Ready?” I ask quietly. He nods once, and we both get out. We sneak into the building, using the keycard.
As soon as we walk into the actual morgue part, the smell of chemicals nearly overwhelms both of us. Coughing and forcing myself to ignore it, I make my way over to the body on the autopsy table, another helpful gift from my mom’s friend.
Folding the sheet down away from his face, I can’t help but wince at the sight of his wound. It’s really the only thing I can make out in the dim lighting, mainly because it’s hard to miss a massive chunk of reddish, blackish skin flapping where the wound is. I hear Kyle gag behind me, can’t blame him ’cause ew.
Biting the inside of my lip, I squint, trying to see the rest of him in the dim light. Trying to make out at least a faint outline of the guy, “Can you—” Kyle turns a lamp on and I give him a grateful smile.
This is a first for both of us.
He used to be a handsome guy. High cheekbones, pale skin, and dead eyes…yep, a keeper there. Okay, focus Nessa. Shaking my head, I carefully lay my hand on his chest. With his…warm skin greeting me? Why is he warm? Whatever, need to concentrate.
Taking a deep breath, I center myself like my mom taught me and try to “read” him, whatever that really means. I hear Kyle sniffing at his neck where the wound is, or should I say where his neck used to be. But, for some reason, I can’t get any kind of reading and this worries me a great deal.
I’ve never exactly read someone before, aside from the creepy Mr. Winkie dude. Which I forgot to tell Devin about, damn it but something about this feels really wrong to me, and all I know is I just want to get the hell out of here. Those warning bells ring through me, stronger this time.
“It moved!” Kyle jumps away from the corpse.
“Yeah, sometimes corpses move. Like, they let out gas, they shrink, and their eyes turn gray. I think they move because of something to do with nerves and the brain. Or gases in the body,” I explain calmly, still trying to get something besides foreboding off him. Then I’m feeling death, which is self-explanatory, considering I’m talking about a dude’s corpse. Then why am I feeling sadness radiate off him, too? Like I los
t a sibling.
“No, h-he just reached up. Nessa, get away from him!” he snarls, starting to get between us. Then the dude jumps up with vamp reflexes, grabs Kyle by the neck, and tosses him over his head. Where he crashes into the wall and lies on the ground, not moving.
“Kyle,” I yelp, and would’ve gone over to him if only the dude didn’t pick me up by the throat and slam me against the wall. “Let go of me you naked ass face,” I grunt out, clawing at his arms.
“What are you?” He gets right in my face and breathes in.
Not creepy at all.
“I’m a pit bull,” I snarl and chomp down on his nose. He yells out in pain and slings me away from him, where I tumble to the ground. After shaking my head like the pit bull I am, I scurry over to Kyle, thankfully he’s still breathing.
Then I’m being yanked up by my hair. “Shit, help, need help in here!” I wish someone would be able to hear me. The douche nugget throws me onto the floor, pins me down, and bites down on my neck. Unable to hold it in, I scream at the top of my lungs and beg for him to stop.
Heh, not really, this is me we’re talking about. I do hiss at the pain then I let my anger build up and tighten my hand on his neck. He freezes in place and starts convulsing.
Someone bursts through the door and then the guy’s being yanked off me. Sneering up at the douche, I jump to my feet and zap him some more where he continues to convulse while the other person’s holding him up. I’m so freakin’ pissed I don’t even pay attention to who it was. When I do glance at him, I’m so surprised, I lose my concentration.
“Devlin,” I greet with a nod, and then punch the dude in the face.
CHAPTER FOUR
~ Well, That’s New ~
Soon after I punch the douche in the face a few more times, the guys come racing through the door. They take one look around and confusion coats their features. I don’t blame them one bit. The chances to actually create a new vamp are slim, let alone for him to actually survive the change. There hasn’t been a record of any new vamps in centuries. I would know. My nose is always buried in the old books.
Freaksville Page 3
