Birth of the Vampire (The Vanderlind Realm)

by Twist, Gayla

  Chapter 23

  Haley

  I have never met a guy as determined as Dorian. Not that I’d had a lot of attention from guys or anything like that, but I was aware of their behavior. When I’d returned home, Uncle Kevin was fighting drunk and seriously upset that I hadn’t at least bothered to call him to let him know I was alive. Apparently, he’d even called the cops to report me missing when I didn’t come home the previous night. If he hadn’t been so stinking drunk and belligerent, I might have been touched. It was almost like a Hallmark card—when you care enough to notify the police about my disappearance.

  That weirdo Dorian must have had a car stashed somewhere near the road because he actually followed me home. I have no idea how he did it.

  Uncle Kevin had a complete spaz about my disappearance, but after he’d calmed down, I realized I was starving. I started digging around in the freezer for something to eat. Way down at the bottom, I actually found a steak, which I threw in the microwave to thaw. As I was staring through the microwave door thinking Hurry! as the meat slowly spun around, the doorbell rang.

  It was Dorian. He was spouting some load of crap about how his car had broken down and he needed to use the phone. I couldn’t believe it. The guy just wouldn’t give up.

  Dorian was trying to get into the house for some reason, and Uncle Kevin was telling him to get lost. Then I heard Dorian’s voice subtly change. It didn’t go up or down in pitch exactly. His voice somehow took on a new timbre. Maybe it was a hypnotist’s trick or something because the next thing I knew, Uncle Kevin was on the verge of inviting the freak into the house.

  All I wanted to do was sink my teeth into the juicy steak. The microwave beeped, and I picked up the steak using just my hand. I knew the meat was very hot, but I didn’t really feel like it was burning me. I decided I was too hungry to bother with broiling it. I had every intention of just sticking it in my mouth and sucking out the juices for a while. But I couldn’t let Kevin crumple under the influence of Dorian’s silky voice. I knew if we let him in the house, it would be hell trying to get him to leave.

  So I shoved Kevin out of the way and confronted Dorian at the door. The porch light was illuminating his hair, making it appear almost white. His face was stern, and his eyes were stormy. It was too bad he was a complete nut case because he really was hot. But I guess if he wasn’t a complete nut case, he wouldn’t have had any interest in me.

  I seriously wanted to know what the guy’s problem was, but he was still ranting about creatures of the night and how he was my master. Or something like that. I wondered if I’d somehow drunk a bunch of alcohol that I wasn’t aware of and had somehow blacked out large portions of the previous evening. That would at least explain the car crash. Okay, no. I had to own that one. Texting and driving was like trying to drive drunk. I’d seen enough public service announcements to know better.

  And if I hadn’t been texting then I wouldn’t have crashed my car, and I would be on my way to Chicago. But for some reason, I wasn’t feeling the same urgency to get out of town. Instead of feeling used and ashamed, I felt somehow confident and pretty damn pissed. I had to fight the impulse to head over to Tommy’s house and beat him bloody.

  Fortunately, just as Dorian was launching into a rant about how I needed to wear sun block or I would get burned by the sun, or something like that, there was the sound of a police siren heading in our direction. It was a good way to wrap things up. I had the distinct impression that Dorian probably wanted to avoid the police. As firmly as I could, I told Dorian to go home. Then I shut the door and locked it.

  A few seconds later, he rang the bell again. I couldn’t believe it. I started to wonder if he was going to stand on the porch all night. Fortunately, the cops arrived, and that made him disappear rather suddenly.

  It turned out to be only one cop. And I must admit, I never realized how yummy the cops were in Tiburon. I mean, not like hot, but like totally delicious looking. He wanted to know where I’d been for the last twenty hours. Something told me that giving him all the details of my car crash and then time spent in a shallow grave with a guy who was totally hot but completely bizarre would lead to more questions than I felt like I could deal with on an empty stomach. So I just explained that I had crashed my car into a tree. I got out to signal for help and must have wandered toward the woods instead of the road. Then I must have passed out because I woke up several hours later and walked back to Kevin’s place.

  The police had found and towed my car, so my story sounded plausible if not all that probable. “And what’s all that brown stuff on your sweater?” he asked, while making a few notes in a notebook.

  I squinted down at Erika’s sweater. I was pretty sure the stain was blood, but that would lead to questions about whose blood and things like that, so I just answered, “I don’t know. I guess maybe I passed out in some mud or something.”

  The cop was not in a pleasant mood. He probably didn’t appreciate having to work on Christmas, but that was hardly my fault. He grumbled something about me maybe receiving a ticket for failure to control my vehicle and something else about paying a fine for damaging a tree. He would have to check with his sergeant and get back to us.

  As soon as the police officer left, Uncle Kevin flew into one of his rages. “I can’t believe how stupid you are! Do you think I like having the cops come to my door? Is that what you think?”

  He got right up in my face, little flecks of his spit sprinkling my cheeks. “No,” I told him. “Do you think I enjoy being in a car accident? I did pass out, you know. Thanks for not being concerned I might have a concussion or anything.” Normally, I would have backed down from Kevin when he was in one of his drunken rages, but I really wasn’t in the mood. I was just almost killed. So he could go get bent with his little temper tantrum. I suddenly realized that was all his rages were, really. The temper tantrums of a baby masquerading as a man.

  “Don’t give me your lip,” he snarled. “You’re fine. I can see you’re perfectly fine. I don’t need this attitude out of you,” he said, poking me in the chest. “You keep this up, and I’ll throw you out, right on your ass.”

  I definitely did not want to get thrown out. But I also was plain sick of Kevin being such a bully all the time. I guess I lost my temper a little because before I even knew what I was doing, I’d grabbed Uncle Kevin by the finger he was using to bruise my chest and twisted it.

  Kevin let out a surprised squeal of pain. He tried to slam me in the head with his elbow, but I saw the blow coming, so while still holding the steak, I blocked him with my forearm. I fought back the urge to rip out Kevin’s throat with my bare teeth. And even though that sounded like an insane thing to do, for one split second I really felt like I could do it.

  But that would have been demented. I didn’t love Kevin, but he was a human, and we were all supposed to value human life. Still, I was sick of him bullying me all the time. So I twisted his finger back even more. “Listen, Uncle Kevin,” I said as he crumpled to his knees. “You’re a nasty drunken bully, and I’m sick of it. Now you’re going to stop harassing me. You’re going to leave me alone. And I’ll stay here as long as I want. Got it?”

  “Yes,” Kevin yelped as I gave his finger an extra twist.

  I released him and headed up to my room with the raw steak still in my hand. I began ripping off giant mouths full, chewing it until all the juice was gone, and then spitting out the rest on the floor. I knew I had probably broken Kevin’s finger. It wasn’t a nice thing to do. But in comparison to what I had wanted to do to my darling uncle, it wasn’t that bad.

  Lying on my bed fully dressed, I wanted to just close my eyes and sleep, but I felt wide awake. In fact, I felt more awake than I had ever been in my life. And I was starving. I must have been getting my period soon because I was really craving red meat. I usually craved chocolate, but I did tend to get a little anemic, so I probably just needed another steak.

  There weren’t a lot of twenty-four-hour shopping options
in Tiburon. There was a Shell station near the highway that stayed open all night, but the closest thing to a steak they sold was prepackaged lunch meat.

  There was an all-night grocery store two towns over, but I didn’t have a car. I thought about the pickup truck that I’d ditched just a few blocks away. There didn’t seem to be any reason not to use it for a quick run to the store. I would put it back in less than twenty minutes. I thought about changing my sweater before heading out. But then I thought, why? The blood didn’t bother me, and I sincerely doubted I was going to run into anyone I knew.

  I expected to run into Uncle Kevin as I headed back down the stairs. I thought he might be pulling an all-nighter of binge drinking and watching TV to celebrate the holiday. But instead, he was in his room with the door shut. That was a good thing. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with any more of his nonsense. I did notice on my way through the kitchen that all the ice trays were empty and in the sink. I wondered if he was using them to ice down his hand. I felt a little guilty for hurting him. Then I remembered that two nights after I got dumped at his place he had given me a fat lip for asking him a question during some crucial play of some stupid football game. Like they weren’t going to show it a hundred more times in instant replay. The memory made me feel less guilty.

  Even though I couldn’t wait to get to the store, I took a minute to refill the trays and put them back in the freezer. Uncle Kevin was probably going to wake up in a lot of pain, and he’d want more ice.

  I stepped outside and inhaled sharply. I had never realized how beautiful Tiburon was at night. Maybe there was a full moon or something, but the whole town seemed to be sprinkled with phosphorescence, giving it a faint, unearthly glow. Or maybe it was that blow to my head messing with my vision again. Either way, I felt like Tiburon was more alive than I’d ever realized. I could smell the pine trees from the front rooms of people’s houses, the faint sweetness of sugar cookies, the lingering hints of roasted meats from Christmas dinner. My stomach growled quite audibly. Part of me wanted to climb up the side of a neighbor’s house using an exposed chimney or handy trellis to watch the different families as they slumbered in their beds.

  Breaking myself out of such a creepy fantasy, I started walking briskly toward the pickup truck. But the faster I walked, the more I wanted to walk. And the faster I wanted to go. I felt strong and healthy, like I could take on the world. I started running as fast as my legs could carry me. But I wasn’t breathing hard or struggling with a pinch in my side like I sometimes did in gym class. I felt like I could run forever.

  The houses and buildings went gliding past me. Before I knew it, I was in the middle of town, speeding past the diner. There were barely any cars on the road, and all the streetlights were flashing. I noticed a couple in a blue sedan staring at me as I sprinted past, their mouths hanging open. I wondered if somehow smacking into that tree had turned me into a superhero.

  Chapter 24

  Haley

  Before I even knew it, I was in the parking lot of the 24/7 grocery store. I had just run a couple of miles, and I wasn’t even winded. In fact, I felt great. I wondered how far I had run. And how fast I had done it. And was there a way I could leverage my newfound speed to earn some money? Did people get any kind of prize money for winning a marathon? It was something to think about.

  The Stop-n-Save was mostly empty. There was only one cashier leaning against her register picking at her nails. There was a bag boy too, but I was willing to bet that was more for security than for any need for him to actually load groceries into bags.

  I walked directly to the meats and immediately grabbed a roast wrapped in cellophane. I couldn’t stand it any longer. Running across two towns had really heightened my appetite. I ripped through the plastic wrapper with my teeth and began sucking at the raw meat. It tasted so good.

  “You’re going to have to pay for that,” I heard somebody say.

  I looked up to see the bag boy. He was somewhere in his late twenties with some very luxurious sideburns and a small soul patch, so more like a bag man. “Okay,” I told him, begrudging the few seconds it took to lift my lips from the meat to give a reply.

  With my free hand, I gathered up more roasts and a few steaks. I’d forgotten to get a cart on the way in. I schlepped them over to checkout and dumped them on the conveyor belt, still doing my best to drain the slab I was pressing urgently to my mouth. The cashier looked at me like I had lost my mind, but I didn’t care. After she’d slid all the meat on the conveyer belt across the scanner, I extended the roast I had in my hand so she could scan it.

  “You should just keep that one,” she said as if she was afraid to get too close to me. “It’s on me.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled as I slid my bank card through the machine and signed my name.

  “Have a good night,” the bag man said to me as he handed me my purchases. “Do you need any help getting this to your car?”

  I looked up at him a little surprised. No one had ever offered to help me get anything to my car. Even when it was obvious I could use a little help. “No, thanks,” I told him, flashing him a suspicious look.

  What the hell did he want? Or maybe he was just bored on a slow night. Not that many people seemed to want groceries in the middle of the night on a holiday.

  I chucked the first lump of meat in the garbage on my way out the door. It had gone from a fresh red to a pale gray with my insane need to ingest all its juice. “What a freak,” I heard the cashier whisper as the automatic door swung open.

  “A hot freak,” the bag man told her.

  “She just sucked all the blood out of that roast,” the female said in reply.

  “Yeah.” He did not sound at all grossed out by my behavior. “Imagine what else she could suck.”

  “Don’t be such a perv,” the cashier told him.

  As soon as I was outside, I cut around to the back of the building. I was too hungry to wait until I got home. I needed more meat. I had a headache that wouldn't quit. There were dumpsters behind the building, and it didn’t smell great, but I didn’t care. Ripping the wrapper off a T-bone steak, I shoved the meat in my mouth and let the juices flow over my tongue. I usually wasn’t that big of a meat eater, but I just couldn’t stop myself. I was craving flesh. Thoughts of going back into the store and draining the cashier of her life force filled my brain. Not good, I told myself, shaking my head vigorously to chase away the visions. I rubbed my eyes and tried to focus on the steak.

  “Well, hello,” a voice called out to me. “What are you doing back here?”

  I saw that the bag boy had sought me out behind the building. “Eating,” I said with a snarl. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m on my break,” he said, pulling out a cigarette as he sauntered over to me. “I couldn’t help but notice you’re a little hungry.” He gestured toward the meat. “Do you want a plate or something to go with that?”

  I couldn’t believe the guy was just standing there looking at me. I could see him perfectly, even before he lit up his smoke. I could hear his heart beating in his chest and feel the blood pumping through his veins. He wanted something from me. To kiss me. To push me up against the side of the building and have sex with me.

  And I wanted something from him, too. It was a feeling I’d never had before. I wanted to consume him. Not sexually, but literally. I wanted to tear into his flesh and drink my fill. All sorts of insane thoughts started filling my brain. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but I was just so hungry. And there was this guy just standing there looking so delicious. I walked right up close to him, took the cigarette out of his hands, and tossed it on the ground.

  “Now that you bring it up, there is something I want,” I told him.

  “What?” he asked, sounding both excited and a little nervous. I don’t think he expected his little ploy to work.

  “You know,” I said, pushing him so his back was up against the wall.

  “Are you serious?” he asked, sounding much younger than he
had a few seconds ago. It was like his fourteen-year-old self had made his voice heard from the past for just a second.

  Once I had him pressed against the wall, we started kissing. And not little tentative kisses like strangers who have just met. I was too hungry for any of that. We were really going at it.

  “I can’t believe how hot you are,” he whispered as I started unbuttoning the front of his shirt. I wanted access to his flesh. “I’m sure you hear that all the time.”

  “Not really,” I told him with a shrug. In fact, no one had ever told me I was hot. Not even Tommy. But somehow, it didn’t matter anymore. I started kissing his neck.

  “Oh, yeah,” my anonymous temporary boyfriend said. “Yeah, go lower.” He put his hand on top of my head and tried to shove me down more toward his zipper region.

  “Forget it,” I said, gruffly shoving his hand away. I hated when guys pulled that kind of physically aggressive crap. Besides, it was his delicious throat that had caught my attention, not whatever nonsense he kept between his legs.

  “Come on,” he said, putting his hand on my head and pushing down again, this time much more forcefully. “You know you want it.”

  I guess it was no surprise that the grown man sniffing around behind a grocery store to make out with a high school girl wasn’t a gentleman. I was sick of guys not being gentlemen. I thrust him hard against the wall, yanked his head to one side, and then plunged my teeth into his neck. He struggled and started to scream, but I didn’t care. The red ambrosia flowing from his neck was so delicious. It was like nothing I’d ever tasted before. I gulped it down like a starving man stumbling across a buffet.

  Suddenly, I was flung to the side with such force that my feet were lifted off the ground, and I crashed into one of those short yellow posts that were supposed to stop people from parking where the grocery store didn’t want them parking. I leapt to my feet, ready to tear to pieces whoever was keeping me from the bag boy’s blood.