Vampire Innocent (Book 10): A Vampire’s Guide To Adulting

by Cox, Matthew S.

  Aurélie also thinks reincarnation is a thing, and vampires merely take much longer to go around for another spin. We last a long time but we’re not immune to destruction. Honestly, it’s all fairly pointless to think about. Even if death and rebirth is a way for a vampire to get mortality back, we wouldn’t remember any past lives.

  And no, I don’t particularly want to give up being a vampire. It’s cool.

  Maybe I’d not be so happy about it if I’d been turned into a Shadow or a Beast. Some people might think being an Old Guard or Sybarite or something with wild supernatural powers later on down the line would be better than a little old Innocent. Not me. I’m content.

  Blix levitates a portion of his dinner into a Flying Spaghetti Monster with meatball eyes and sends it floating around in circles over the table. Everyone laughs for a few minutes before I pull a Mom and ask him to stop playing with his food.

  This, of course, makes everyone laugh even more.

  After dinner, I hang out with Hunter and Ashley in the living room.

  Sierra’s monopolizing the living room TV on the PlayStation. Sophia is, as far as I know, in her room either reading, coloring, or fiddling around with mystic stuff. Sam’s in his room as well, likely playing video games with Blix and Ronan. All in all, a reasonably normal Saturday night. Once the Littles go to bed, we’ll probably throw on a movie. Ash and Hunter are discussing which Marvel film to stream.

  Hunter is really into comic stuff. Ashley is more into it than I am. The two of them talk about the various characters’ backstories—of which I am oblivious—but the movie is engaging enough for me. My boyfriend isn’t one of those super-geeks who could tell you the name of each character’s childhood pet, but he’s a big fan of the genre. He’s been trying to talk me into taking a trip to Comic Con so I can blow people’s minds by dressing up as a character who can fly—then actually flying. Yeah, no. Opposite of subtle. The last thing I need to do is call attention to myself as a supernatural being.

  Eventually, around ten, Sierra shuts down the PlayStation and heads upstairs. Hunter puts on Thor: Ragnarok. Not even twenty minutes into the movie, Ashley gets up and runs to the bathroom. I grab the remote to pause the movie. Hunter decides to take advantage of the break, going to the kitchen to make popcorn.

  Sam thunders down the stairs like a herd of buffalo, runs across the living room, and tries the bathroom door, finding it locked. Before I can say ‘Ashley’s in there,’ he sprints back to the stairs. Uh oh. Something bad is about to happen.

  One… two… three…

  “Get out!” screams Sierra upstairs. “I’m in the tub!”

  “Gotta poop,” says Sam.

  Sierra shrieks, then yells, “I don’t care! Get out!”

  Ugh. This one I can’t let play out. Gotta go play referee. Sierra keeps shouting at him, sounding more upset he’s going to leave her trapped in a cloud of awfulness than he barged in on her while she’s in the tub. She also complains about the ’rents policy of not allowing the Littles to lock the door when they’re in the bathroom. You know, in case they slip or hurt themselves. They’re probably old enough now where it isn’t a big deal. Gonna bring it up with Mom when they get back.

  I head upstairs, shocked to see a patch of light from the bathroom spread out over the carpet. Wow, he must’ve been in a serious hurry since he didn’t even close the door. I jog down the hall, pausing in the doorway. Sierra’s sitting in a foamy tub, curled in a ball at one end, glaring out from behind the shower curtain at Sam, who’s on the bowl.

  Sometimes, having a vampire’s sense of smell is a handicap.

  Fortunately, I don’t have to breathe.

  “Sorry,” says Sam. “Someone was in the other bathroom and this couldn’t wait.”

  “Sare! Make him get out!”

  “I can’t leave in mid-poo.”

  Good grief. I rub the bridge of my nose. Family, right?

  Sierra gags. “Why did you even start? I’m trapped in here.”

  “Because I didn’t wanna crap my pants,” says Sam.

  “Why can’t you hold it a little bit longer?” Sierra coughs.

  Sam shrugs. “Why do you have to take hour-long baths?”

  “I do not take hour long baths.” Sierra scoffs. “I’ve been in here for like fifteen minutes. What about the basement bathroom?”

  “Oops.” Sam cringes. “I forgot about it. Poop panic.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying not to laugh. Laughing would require air moving in and out of my head.

  “Ugh. I’m gonna puke,” mutters Sierra. “You’re ruining my bath!”

  Hmm. I have no idea if I should be angry with Sam or not. He didn’t barge in on her specifically to be an annoying little brother. The boy simply has no concept of personal space and even less a grasp on embarrassment. I swear he could use an open toilet in the middle of downtown Seattle and not be the least bit uncomfortable. Hell, he could probably even listen to Justin Bieber in public without feeling shame.

  Sophia walks in. “What’s everyone screaming about?”

  “Argh!” yells Sierra, water sloshing. “Does anyone realize why bathrooms have doors? It’s because taking a bath isn’t supposed to be a spectator sport! Why is everyone in here?”

  “Ashley, Ronan and Hunter aren’t in here,” says Sam. “It’s not technically everyone. Want me to get them?”

  Sierra growls. “You’re ruining my bath. It’s horrible in here. I can’t breathe!”

  “If you yell less, you won’t need to breathe as much,” deadpans Sam.

  “C’mon, hurry up.” I gesture at him in a ‘get on with it’ manner.

  Sophia waves her arm in a grandiose sweep. “Begone, foul demon.”

  “Whoa.” Sierra blinks. “You got rid of the stink.”

  “Yep.” Sophia smiles.

  I test sniff. The air smells a bit like flowers. “Nice…”

  “You need to do this whenever Dad explodes,” says Sierra.

  Sophia cringes. “Sorry. My magic has limits.”

  “Heh. Okay, c’mon, Sam. Hurry up and get out so your sister can finish her bath.”

  Sierra ducks completely behind the shower curtain out of sight, still huddled in a ball. Yeah, there’s going to be retribution for this. Hopefully, it doesn’t involve blood.

  Sophia returns to her room. I stand guard with my back turned while Sam finishes up, mostly to make sure the door gets closed when he leaves. Wow. This is the kind of situation Mom and Dad had to deal with for years.

  They totally need more than a week’s vacation.

  9

  Scrambling

  Monday March fifth starts off like any other Monday in recent memory.

  I float out of unconsciousness around the usual time, about twenty minutes to three in the afternoon. A lack of heaviness in my limbs tells me it’s a gloomy day. No point rushing anywhere. The Littles aren’t home yet and all my schoolwork is caught up. So, I lay here in bed enjoying Hunter’s scent.

  With Ashley sleeping over—since she’s crashing in my room—Hunter and I couldn’t do much more than cuddle. I wasn’t expecting Ash to handle my appearance during sleep as well as she did. It’s not something I like to think about since it’s way too much of a reminder of how dead my body really is. Though I’m nowhere near as ghoulish as a Shadow when I’m sleeping, my body basically turns into a freakin’ mummy. Grey skin, kinda sunken features, like if a hiker way up in the mountains dropped dead and froze within minutes. It could be far worse, but no one looking at me would have any doubt they found a corpse.

  Mom totally can’t handle it. She won’t go anywhere near my room during the day. In fact, she only goes to the basement long enough to drop off laundry baskets.

  Alas, Hunter had to leave Sunday before I woke up. Ashley did, too, for her job at the vet hospital, but she tag-teamed her mother into stopping by to watch the Littles until I woke up. Mrs. Carter knows what I am and is surprisingly okay with it. We haven’t told Michelle’s paren
ts. They couldn’t handle it. Still not sure if they’d have a worse reaction to discovering I’m a vampire or finding out Ashley is bisexual. Either scenario would likely result in them trying to ban Michelle from seeing us—like she’s still fourteen and can’t be friends with people her parents choose not to like.

  Is it technically lying not to tell people like them the truth about one’s identity?

  I dunno. It’s not as if her parents are outspoken against any groups. They’re highly religious and in the privacy of their home, have commented to Michelle they believe gay people are ungodly. They’d never go out and protest or even say anything unkind to someone’s face. We’re all assuming their religiosity guarantees they’ll hate Ashley. Maybe they wouldn’t. Could be they’d merely try to talk her into being ‘normal,’ as if someone’s sexual orientation has anything to do with wants. It’s also possible they’ll say nothing at all beyond quietly grumbling about ‘the state of the world’ to each other when no one’s around to hear them.

  Ash doesn’t want to risk it, though.

  At least in my case, I am a supernatural monster. There’s way more going on with me than love taking a path some people say it shouldn’t be on. Vampires really can be dangerous, evil monsters. The worst thing Ashley would ever do to anyone is make a snarky comment about the tackiness of their curtains. So yeah, I wouldn’t take it personally if they freaked out about me being a vampire.

  They won’t, because they’re never going to know.

  Eventually, I get out of bed and grab a quick shower in the basement bathroom. With Mom not here to collect dirty laundry, it’s on me to make the rounds. Might as well keep up the routine. The Littles return from school, along with Megan and Nicole while I’m in the midst of emptying out the hampers. Sam must’ve noticed me collecting clothes and has his laundry waiting for me in a basket by the time I come back upstairs from carrying Sierra’s basket to the basement. He’s engrossed in homework at his desk while Blix is on the PlayStation.

  Swear the little demon is totally addicted to video games.

  “Thanks.” I grab the basket.

  Sam gives me a thumbs up without looking away from his work. “Welcome.”

  Maybe an hour later, I’m emptying the first completed load from the dryer when Sam yells, “Hey, Sierra, Soph summoned brownies in the kitchen!”

  Ugh. Seriously? You’d think the girl had quite enough of those little monsters after being held hostage by them. Grumbling, I hurry toward the stairs, prepared to yell at her for reckless use of magic—only to find Sam’s being a dork. The scent of brownies—as in baked treats—fills the stairwell at the top even before I open the door. Whew.

  Sierra, Sam, Megan, and Nicole gather in a group by the counter, ogling a baking tray.

  Sophia stands between them and the treats, waving in a shooing motion. “We gotta wait a bit. They need to cool off before we can eat them.”

  I lean on the doorjamb, surveying the damage. The kitchen isn’t too messy, but a ten-year-old can only be so careful. Her birthday’s in like two weeks, so maybe she’s closer to eleven now, but still. Should I be freaking out over her baking brownies totally on her own without Mom or me in the room, or should I be impressed she appears to have done it properly without burning the house to the ground? How old does a kid have to be before they shouldn’t have to ask permission to use the stove?

  Somehow, my parents managed to produce three kids who are more responsible than their ages would imply. Any one of them would probably act in a reasonable manner, except Sophia’s easy to rattle and gets scared at the drop of a hat. If the stove caught fire, she’d want to do the right thing but panic too much. Sierra has a bit of a short fuse. She’d probably get angry at a stove fire for existing and attack it herself. Sam would calmly Google the best way to put out a grease fire while it burned in front of him.

  I’m a mix of all three, only I wouldn’t need to use Google. Grease fires and me have prior experience. Tried to make breakfast in bed for the parents when I was ten. Bacon happened. Too much in a pan at once. Hey, everyone likes bacon.

  Oh hell. As long as she cleans up the mess, I won’t freak out.

  “Don’t forget Sophia’s gotta go to the dentist tomorrow,” says Sierra. “Maybe she shouldn’t be eating brownies now.”

  Sophia whines at her, annoyed at the reminder. Yeah, she’s afraid of the dentist. Sierra’s not a big fan of having her teeth cleaned, either, but she’s more embarrassed at seeming weak than afraid… so tolerates it.

  “It’s tomorrow. Doesn’t matter. I’ll brush my teeth tonight.” Sophia waves her hand back and forth over the brownies, then carefully cuts one out, defiantly chomping it at Sierra.

  As soon as the kids start scrambling for control of the knife, I zoom over and confiscate the deadly implement. “Back off. Don’t be idiots around a knife.”

  They quiet down.

  I cut mega-brownie into normal-sized squares and toss the knife into the sink. Might as well have one since I’m here. It’s so nice not to be worried about calories. Know what? I don’t care about calories. Why not go all out? A little bit of cold vanilla ice cream is the perfect complement to a still-hot brownie.

  A little before five, I drive Sam to Taekwondo class.

  While I’m signing him in, the guy behind the counter at the dojo points at his computer screen. “Your membership’s going to expire next month. I can process the renewal for you now if you want.”

  Sam peers up at me. “Can you sign me up for another six months?”

  “Umm.” Well, I am technically a legal adult. Might as well try. I nod at the dude in the karate uniform. “Sure, he’s into it. What do you need in order to renew the sub?”

  “Consent, a signature, and a credit card. Wow, you look super young to be his mother.” The guy hands me a form.

  I laugh. “Because I’m not. Older sister. Yes, I’m over eighteen.”

  “Really?” He studies me, skepticism in his eyes but not enough to argue. “Cool. Good genes, I guess.”

  Got the feeling this place isn’t particularly concerned about making sure I’m old enough to sign a contract. We’re not exactly talking big money on the line. Whatever. I fill the thing out and hand over my authorized-user card for Mom’s Visa. The parents won’t have any problem with it since they’ll renew this as long as Sam is interested in going.

  While I’m filling out the paperwork, my phone rings. I’d ignore it except for the cute cartoon music ringtone telling me it’s Sophia. Her calling me means only one thing: the house is gone in a fiery cataclysm of runaway magic and exploding kittens. I practically throw the phone at the taekwondo place dude in my haste to get it out of my bag and answer it.

  Sam stares at me like I’m nuts.

  I swipe to accept the call. “Soph? What’s wrong?”

  “You’re not here.”

  Ugh. Please tell me she’s not having a cling attack now. “Yeah, you know I had to take Sam to karate.”

  “Taekwondo,” says Sam and the dude behind the counter simultaneously.

  “You forgot I have dance class.” Sophia’s voice rises in urgency. “And I still need to get a costume for the recital on Saturday.”

  “Isn’t the dance place providing your costumes?” I ask.

  Sophia laughs. “Are you serious? We have to buy all our own stuff.”

  “Umm. Okay, we can get the costume before Saturday.” How expensive can a leotard be? “Plenty of time left.”

  “What about class tonight? I’m gonna miss it.”

  “I’m at the taekwondo place with Sam. He’s gonna be a while. How the heck does Mom manage this?”

  “Dad usually drives Sam to karate.”

  Grr. Being in two places at once is not part of my vampire power set. “I can’t leave him here… what about Ashley?”

  Sophia pauses a few seconds. “Are we going to leave Sierra home alone?”

  “Grr.” I eye the dojo guy, smile, and back off a bit to whisper out of his earshot. �
��Can Blix mirror you there safely?”

  “How should I know?” asks Sophia. “I don’t wanna be covered in slime and stuck to the wall like Ronan.”

  “He wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. Either take the mirror or ask Sierra to go with you if Ashley’s able to drive you there.”

  Sophia exhales hard. “Okay.”

  “Call me if anything weird happens.”

  “Umm, going into a mirror doesn’t count as weird anymore?”

  I chuckle. “It does, but you know what I mean. If you mirror there, call me so I can pick you up after Sam’s class.”

  “Okay.”

  We hang up.

  I stare at the phone, wondering what genius decided to schedule everything. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, both Sophia and Sam have their respective activities, pretty much at the same time. Unless Blix helps Sophia mirror there, she will be late. At least Sierra’s sword lessons are a Tuesday / Thursday affair. No surprise she’s the youngest person in the class, the only non-adult.

  After finishing the signup for Sam’s six-month renewal, I take a seat among the parents watching the kids go through the motions of taekwondo class. The place is pretty low key. Seems like their focus is more on giving the kids a workout than making hand-to-hand combat a second nature instinct. As Sam once said, it’s ‘yoga with more screaming.’

  Lots of screaming.

  Thankfully, I can’t get headaches anymore.

  10

  Fear Management

  I picked Sophia up from the dance studio on the way home from the taekwondo place, dropped them at the house, then rushed to Seattle for class. Ashley is my angel. She took care of dinner. By the time I got home from school, any place selling the kind of leotard Sophia needs for the recital already closed. Online is an option, but not a great one. No guarantee it’ll get here on time, and what if it doesn’t fit?