Ordinary Problems of a College Vampire (Vampire Innocent Book 7)

by Matthew S. Cox

  But then again, I’m a vampire with a mountain of homework to do.

  Nothing about my life is normal.

  9

  All Things Weird and Sarah

  Sierra’s scream drags me out of sleep Tuesday afternoon.

  I know that scream, so I don’t panic. It’s the sort of scream she lets out borne of shock, frustration, and outrage. Usually, the PlayStation causes it when someone’s killed her ten times in a row. Other triggers include unexpected frogs in places they don’t belong, accidental snot-rockets from a sneezing Sam, and one time, she fell in the yard behind the school and slid over a mountain of dog poop that covered her from chest to knees. Oh, she also lets out that particular yell if she encounters a toilet seat in the wrong position in the middle of the night.

  Considering it’s presently a little after three, that scream means someone did something to her. Rapid footsteps coming down the basement stairs make me jump to the conclusion that it had to be either the imp or Sophia. If Sam or his friends did anything mundane, she’d have gone to Dad.

  My bedroom door opens and Sierra barges in, smelling of bath soap and shampoo. Sophia’s right behind her whispering rapid apologies, but I barely notice her due to the spectacle before my eyes.

  Sierra has long, straight light brown hair that’s a few inches shy of being a sitting hazard. At the moment, her hair is fluffed up into an enormous sphere. Every strand is sticking out of her head pin straight like a koosh ball.

  Massive sphere of hair plus small enraged face equals Sarah laughing her ass off.

  Predictably, this does not go over well with the little one.

  “It’s not funny!” shouts Sierra. “Make it stop!”

  The doorbell rings.

  Sierra screams again. “No! Don’t let anyone see me like this!” She shakes her head, causing the hair orb to wobble.

  I laugh until tears roll down my face.

  “I’ll get it,” whispers Sophia.

  “No.” Sierra grabs her. “You did this. You gotta fix it.”

  “So why did you come to Sare’s room?”

  Sierra fumes. “I… I dunno. Just thought she could fix anything.”

  “Oh. My. God. You are adorable like that. Next year, Halloween, do that on purpose.”

  “No!” roars Sierra. “Not happening.”

  Sophia shrugs. “I could do it to my hair if I remember how.”

  “No, don’t.” Sierra pats at her orb of hair. “No hairspray invented will keep hair this long so straight. It’s obviously unnatural.”

  “Dare I ask what you tried to do?” I swing my legs off the bed and sit on the edge. Hey, if I’m going to be forcibly jolted out of bed, waking up to laughter is an acceptable tradeoff.

  “Some dipshit nailed us with a muddy puddle,” says Sierra, scowling. “Again.”

  Sophia gasps at her for swearing. “We were walking home from the bus stop and a guy in a Beemer hit a puddle in the gutter and splashed us. Sierra took a bath once we got home, so I tried to dry her hair off fast… and that happened.” She pokes a finger at Sierra’s hair, marveling at the way the ends waver and go back into position after each disturbance. “So cool.”

  “Stop that.” Sierra grabs her hand. “It’s not cool. I look ridiculous.”

  “Be right back,” I say, then hurry upstairs, leaving them to discuss the dekooshification of Sierra’s hair.

  The doorbell rings again. Yeah, yeah, I’m on the way. Fortunately, it’s still kinda gloomy from the rain yesterday though it’s not actively raining now. That makes it only irritatingly warm upstairs and not painful.

  I’m surprised to see Hunter at the door when I open it. “Hey.”

  “Somehow managed to catch up on stuff and ended up with a free afternoon. I really wanted to see you.” He smiles.

  Ronan peers around him from behind, waving. “Hi.”

  He turned ten last August, but his short stature, big eyes, and longish blond hair make him look younger. The poor kid still has a generally fearful, quiet affect about him, a consequence of living with his abusive father. Sometimes, it’s tempting to make the boy forget him entirely, but that’s probably an overreach on my part. Or not. That kind of thing can mess people up well into adulthood. Their mother doesn’t know about the vampire stuff, so I’ll talk it over with Hunter at some point. Ronan might be way happier forgetting all the nights he watched his dad scream at and hit his mother, slap Hunter around, and even hit him, too.

  No, he definitely would be way happier without that.

  “Hey, kiddo. C’mon in.” Once they’re inside, I shut the door.

  “Don’t mind Ro. Mom’s at work.” Hunter pats him on the head. “He’s housebroken.”

  Ronan smirks. “I’m not a dog.”

  Of course, the first thing I want to do is be alone with Hunter. Dad’s here, in his office working, so I don’t need to be responsible for chaperoning children. And, yeah, it’s big time awkward thinking about doing what I want to be doing while my father’s in the same house and awake. However, the ability to erase memories makes up for a lot of risk taking. Pretty sure Dad would absolutely want to forget walking in on Hunter and me in flagrante delicto.

  Sam emerges from the kitchen with a handful of cookies and a cup, heading for the stairs. He pauses upon noticing Ronan. I half expect them to circle and smell each other like strange dogs meeting by a familiar tree. Whatever assessment process happens between boys goes by in an instant.

  “Hey,” says Sam.

  “’Sup.” Ronan nods.

  “Cookie? Mom just made them last night. Chocolate chip.”

  “Sure.”

  My brother gives Ronan his handful, then heads back to the kitchen to get more. When he returns, he stops near us again. “I’m Sam.”

  “Ronan.”

  “Wanna hang out and play video games?”

  “Okay.”

  The boys go upstairs to Sam’s room, discussing game systems, mostly my brother’s shock that Ronan doesn’t have one. That our house has two PlayStations, one in the living room and one in Sam’s bedroom, makes me feel awkward.

  “Well, that was easy.” Hunter chuckles.

  “Want some tea or something? Cookies?” I start toward the kitchen.

  “Sounds good. Your mom must make cookies in giant batches to keep up with four kids.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, when she bakes, she’s cooking for an army.”

  Sophia and Sierra emerge from the basement door. They appear normal and calm, no more giant ball of hair. I assume they worked out the koosh problem without full contact martial arts. Given the way they fight sometimes—or should I say used to fight before my death—watching Sierra hurl herself at the imps to protect Sophia both shocked me and kinda made me want to cry from ‘aww.’ I’m sure nearly losing me gave both girls an unwanted lesson in mortality that dragged a protective streak out of Sierra. It’s probably what kept things from getting physical. Also, Soph didn’t prank her, she flubbed a spell.

  A spell. I sigh at the floor. Seriously, when did my life get this weird?

  Cookies and iced tea in hand, Hunter and I relocate to my bedroom for a date. Copious snuggling and a little making out follows while we sorta-watch a movie on my computer monitor. I’m not sure exactly what, but something keeps us from going all the way. Perhaps due to it being the middle of the afternoon with kids and at least one parent in the house. Maybe Hunter feels too awkward at the idea of bringing his little brother over on a booty call—so by keeping our date ‘cute,’ it’s not a booty call.

  It’s obvious to me that we both want it bad, but we end up just holding each other and talking. This is one of the few times in my life that I’ve been tempted to skip school. In fact, I think that’s gonna happen tonight. It’s Tuesday, which means intro bio tonight. Probably nothing that couldn’t be caught up on. Wouldn’t take much effort to make Professor Connolly ignore my absence.

  Ugh. Not even six months as a vampire and I’m already tempted to abuse my p
owers.

  Okay, perhaps compelling people to buy Girl Scout cookies counts as an abuse, too, but that doesn’t seem as bad as cheating the rules at school.

  “What are you thinking?” asks Hunter, his breath right at my ear.

  “How much I missed spending time with you.”

  He kisses me on the cheek. “Same. If I wasn’t so damn busy, it would’ve been absolute torture. I don’t have enough time to think about much so it’s just plain torture.”

  I chuckle. “So you’re off today?”

  “Off in the sense of no homework waiting to be done and nothing to fix at the house. I still need to be at the restaurant later.”

  “Aww, darn. I was gonna skip class tonight.”

  He grins. “Don’t give yourself more work. We can make time around our schedules.”

  I curl up against his side. “Wanna stop behaving ourselves?”

  The look he gives me is one of total conflict. “There are at least four kids running around plus your father.”

  “Hmm. I could come over after you’re done at the restaurant.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” Hunter kisses me full on the lips.

  Wednesday afternoon, I wake up, still smiling over the night before.

  Yeah, Hunter stayed up way too late for him. When we realized the time—after one in the morning—I insisted he go to sleep. After helping myself to their shower, I flew to the Seattle outskirts and swung by the roof hoping to ask Glim about the tattooed guy who’d been watching me at the movie theater and who may or may not have followed me the other night. Though, given the time, he’d already gone elsewhere. He only haunts that roof so he can watch his boys and ex-wife. No idea how he’s able to see her with another man and not let that rip him up inside. That has to be painful for him. Still loving her, wanting to be with her, but considering himself ‘dead and gone’ already. No telling how she’d react to seeing his true face. The woman might not even believe he’s her husband. But… as far as Glim is concerned, Anthony Chavez died in Iraq.

  I fished a Post-It out of my handbag, jotted down a quick note asking if he could look into the guy following me, and stashed it in the rain gutter by where he usually sits. Hopefully, we won’t get another monsoon before tomorrow night.

  For a little while, I lay awake in bed replaying my time last night with Hunter over and over in my head. Eventually, the nagging specter of responsibility pulls me out of bed, so I attack the homework I dodged yesterday. The only ‘window’ in my room is a life-sized printout of a photo my mom took of the window in my former bedroom looking out over a sunny summer backyard. Since it doesn’t allow any actual sunlight into my room, my powers are at full strength. I still get kinda maudlin whenever I look at the fake window, but it’s not over becoming a vampire or even losing the space that’s become Sierra’s room. Mostly, I miss my childhood. That view of the backyard had been mine for many hours sitting at my desk doing homework or playing around on the computer.

  And yes, I’m fully aware that I’m only eighteen. It doesn’t make sense. Maybe it does have something to do with becoming a vampire. Dad sometimes talks about how he wishes he could be nine again so he didn’t have to worry about responsibilities like a day job, taxes, bills, and so on—just spend all day playing video games or D&D with his friends.

  That’s understandable for a guy his age. But me? I gotta be missing the lack of paranormal weird. It really hasn’t been that long since Ashley and I could sit around goofing off for hours without worries. For the most part, we still kind of can. Neither one of us needs to work to survive. Though, pretty sure Mrs. Carter wouldn’t be too happy with Ash for slacking off. Growing up I could’ve dealt with. Without dying, like most people, I probably would’ve rushed headlong into becoming an adult, not realizing what a mistake I made until hitting the late-thirties-red-wine-every-night phase of womanhood.

  Growing up is highly overrated. I don’t recommend it.

  Of course, being a kid kinda stinks in some regards. Being a teen has its issues as well. Pretty sure everyone always feels like their present age is the worst time of their lives and either can’t wait to get older or wants to be younger. What if true happiness only comes when a person becomes so old they enter the stage where they stop caring about what everyone else thinks and just follow their heart? Like that old guy two streets over with a corvette, or the elderly couple who live next door to my maternal grandparents. They tried to convince my grands to go skinny dipping with them. Talk about living wild and free. Okay, four elders skinny dipping is definitely a mental image I don’t need. Sadly, staring at a mirror doesn’t let me erase my own memories.

  After a while of doing homework, an unexpected voice catches my ear from upstairs. My senses are sharp to the point where I can hear squirrels darting across the roof outside, two stories above me. This is typically why music is almost always on low in my room, to drown out a thousand random sounds that would drive me nuts. But, music with lyrics gets in the way of reading assignments for school.

  However, Ronan appears to be in our house.

  Curious, I head upstairs to Sam’s room.

  He and Ronan are on the floor, mesmerized by the PlayStation. They don’t live that far away that it’s beyond belief for the boy to have taken his bike over here to hang with Sam, or even walked. Heck, Hunter might’ve dropped him off. Pretty sure Ronan prefers to be here playing games with Sam to sitting in the employee break room of Mi Tierra for hours, even if that includes a free burrito.

  I’m about to head back to my room, but it occurs to me there’s something not quite ordinary about the scene in front of me. Sam isn’t playing the game, he’s watching. Blix, the imp, sits between the boys with a controller in his minuscule hands… and Ronan is evidently aware of said imp and not freaking out.

  My brother’s blasé reaction to a small demon didn’t bother me too much since, well, Sam. Pretty sure a tornado could rip off the front wall of our house and he’d calmly inform Dad that the wind’s a little strong.

  The imp is playing video games with Sam and Ronan. Whatever.

  I start to turn away, but Sam says, “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself.” I lean in the door, eyeing Blix. “What’s up?”

  The imp salutes me with his tail since his hands are occupied.

  “Hope it’s cool Ronan’s here.” Sam grabs a corn chip from a bag in front of them. The bag Mom reported missing has been in here all along.

  “Hi.” Ronan tosses his head to get his hair off his face.

  “Daryl and Jordan would be here, too, but they’re both busy today and can’t hang out.” My brother gives me a pointed look, then a second later, taps the side of his head.

  Aha.

  I peek at his thoughts. Apparently, Ronan admitted to not having any friends because he’s kinda small for his age and his long hair gets him picked on for looking girly. He’s already confided in Sam that he likes it long even if causes teasing because he’s spiting his father who used to force him to keep it buzz cut short. He wants to learn guitar as soon as his mom can afford to get him one, and figures the long hair will work for when he’s a musician. They’ve become quick friends and Sam really wants me not to be annoyed at Ronan for being here unannounced.

  My ability to erase memories allows certain conversational shortcuts. “Not to put too obvious a point on it, but I’m guessing you realize your imp is hanging out.”

  Sam checks his fly, but laughs, clearly teasing me before I can say ‘not that imp.’

  “Wiseass.”

  He grins. “Yeah. Blix brought him here through the mirror world. If you’re gonna marry Hunter someday, Ro’s gonna be my cousin in law or something, so he’s going to find out about stuff. He’s good at keeping secret stuff secret.”

  “Swear.” Ronan lets go of the controller for a second to raise a hand like in court.

  Blix mashes buttons, using his tail to help.

  “Hey, no fair,” yells Ronan. “Tail foul.”

  Desp
ite the extra button-pushing appendage, Ronan wins the match in whatever fighting game they’re playing.

  “Umm.” I tap my foot. “Is that safe? We saw some wild stuff on the other side.”

  Blix looks up at me and tilts his hand side to side in a ‘so-so’ gesture, then babbles in a voice that sounds like Alvin the chipmunk played backwards.

  “He said it’s kinda dangerous but he’s a good guide, so it’s safe.” Sam grabs and eats another corn chip.

  Blix stares at the bag and a line of six chips launch out, gliding in an arc straight into his mouth.

  “Umm.” I gawk. “How is it you can understand him?”

  “I dunno.” Sam shrugs. “Just do.”

  The imp drapes an arm around both boys’ shoulders, his little body dangling between them, grinning up at me. I can’t read his thoughts, but he seems to be trying to project a sense of camaraderie. Best buds.

  Okay. Whatever. Considering how weird my life has gotten, my brother making friends with a daemon isn’t too terrible. Things could be far worse. Sophia could get her hands on a Ouija board. I don’t even want to think about what would happen. Then again, it couldn’t be any more of a disaster than an invasion of malicious imps, could it?

  Wait. Hold that thought. Some questions should not be asked.

  Sam’s got a point. Hunter’s little brother is going to wind up finding out about me eventually. Unless something funky happens, I’m fairly sure we’ll be together for a long time. The boy’s going to see me on holidays and probably figure out pretty quick that my appearance isn’t changing. Still not sure how I’m going to handle being in public with Hunter when he looks way older than me. Do I pretend to be his kid sister when he’s in his late twenties? When he’s forty, do I become the daughter? Eventually, granddaughter?

  Ugh. Maybe the kind thing to do would be to make him forget ever knowing me, let him find a mortal girl and have a normal life. If I offer to do that for him again, he’s going to be upset. Last—only—time I brought it up, he insisted that he loved me and didn’t care about not being normal. Should either of us ever desire to become parents, there’s always adoption. Pretty sure the inner workings of my plumbing are shot. And really, would it be fair to the kid having a vampire for a mom? Especially one who’s eternally more like big sis than a mother? Then again, a permanent home even with a vampire is probably a step up for them.