Vampires Drink Tomato Juice

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Vampires Drink Tomato Juice Page 19

by K. M. Shea


  “Why should we?” I shrugged. “Obviously we’re the dominant culture. You wouldn’t have hidden yourselves away in places like the MBRC if you thought you stood a chance against us.”

  The fairies gasped, but Asahi backed me up. “Morgan is right. Humans are advancing while magical societies remain stuck in the past. Our medical care is atrocious compared to theirs, and that’s with elves and fairies who can heal at abnormally fast rates. Their methods of communication are far better than ours ever were. It used to take a year to assemble the Fairy Council. Now, you can send them all an email, and they’ll turn up in minutes,” Asahi argued. “It is our fault that we were driven underground. Magical society can learn a lot from humans; that’s why we need to integrate with them.”

  “Plus screwing with their brains—like I know you do, Melony—is just plain rude. How would you like it if they ripped your wings off you like you were a fly?” Esmeralda snorted.

  The Pastels had grown tight-faced with Asahi’s gentle defense, but when Esmeralda spoke, they grew downright hostile, their sloppily bedazzled faces turning red as their Halloween-special wings flapped and buzzed with agitation.

  “It’s not like it does any permanent damage,” pink Pastel snarled.

  Madeline daintily laughed, sounding quite evil even though she looked like a Victorian doll. “Goodness gracious. I can’t believe you’re saying that when the MBRC has the Cuckoo Ward.”

  “The what?” I asked, coming out from behind the podium.

  “The Cuckoo Ward,” the sphinx said. Her voice was gravely and deep but warm. “A hospital wing in which the MBRC keeps human patients who have been mentally or physically damaged as a result of overexposure to our society,” she recited.

  I whistled. “I didn’t know about that,” I said, thanking my lucky stars Frey hadn’t insisted I enter that kind of place when Dave blew their cover.

  “Teacher, why don’t we take a field trip there?” Madeline asked, raising her hand.

  Next to her, Frank looked nervous. But then again he usually does.

  “Can we really visit it? It can’t be open to the public,” I logically pointed out.

  “Oh, sure it is,” Madeline chirped. “The advanced classes go there all the time to observe the humans.”

  “I can ask for permission,” Asahi volunteered with his unflappable smile.

  “Seconded!” Esmeralda said. “All in favor?”

  “Aye,” a chorus of voices cheered.

  “This isn’t a democracy,” I argued. “Just because you guys vote to go on a field trip doesn’t mean I’ll allow it!”

  “Please, Morgan?” Madeline begged. Frank nodded with her.

  “Yeah, come on Mo-Mo. I think you’ll find it interesting,” Esmeralda promised.

  “Mo-Mo?” I asked, my eyebrows crawling up my forehead.

  “I’m trying to give you a nickname.”

  “Really? Why don’t I have a nickname?” Madeline asked.

  “Because you’re not cool enough.”

  “Waah! So mean!”

  “Morgan,” Asahi called, getting my attention. “Please?” he asked, performing the finishing blow to my educational uncertainty with his sweet eyes.

  “Alright,” I caved. “Let’s schedule it for this Friday. Does that give you enough time to get permission, Asahi?” I asked.

  “Yep, plenty of time.”

  “Fine. Class is dismissed for the day.”

  On Wednesday, I entered the MBRC with Dave and Frey and immediately headed for the help desk. I wanted to get as much information on the Cuckoo Ward as possible, and I figured Corona, Toby, and Orion would be the people (?) to talk to.

  “Corona, Orion, how are you guys? Where’s Toby?” I asked, sliding up to the desk.

  “Morgan! We’re doing fine. How are you? Toby’s probably crawling the walls of his cave. He flipped out on a MBRC Board Member when they made a pot of decaf coffee, so our boss has put him on one-week leave to detoxify and get the caffeine out of his system. I doubt it will work,” Corona said.

  “Morgan,” Orion acknowledged with a mysterious and elegant tip of his head.

  “Can we help you with something?” Corona asked.

  “Yeah. My class and I are going to Cuckoo Ward on Friday. I was wondering if you could give me some information on it. I’m trying to prepare myself.”

  “Of course,” Corona said, grabbing a few pamphlets as she started her impromptu lesson. “The Cuckoo Ward—named after the bird that lays its eggs in the nest of other birds—was designed to house and comfort humans who have been damaged as a result of those in our magical society,” Corona explained.

  “Someone told me the damage could be physical or mental. What the heck does that mean?” I asked, planting my elbows on the countertop.

  “To damage the body does not mean you have damaged the mind,” Orion said with his obligatory amount of mystique.

  Honestly. Centaurs.

  “Sometimes some of the more malicious fairies will play pranks on humans. Pranks that can’t be undone,” Corona carefully said. “For instance, one of the patients is…well…blue.”

  “You mean they feel blue?”

  “No. I mean their hair and skin are shades of blue. Now, a fairy glamour will cover up some oddities, but using fairy magic on humans is always risky. Plus, the glamour would have to be applied twenty four hours a day, which is quite a feat. So the MBRC took custody of the human.”

  “Uh-huh,” I nodded. “And mentally damaged?”

  “Some creatures will push humans beyond what their brains will tolerate. As a result, their mind isn’t quite the same. You’ll see lots of mentally damaged patients—it’s the more common ailment,” Corona said.

  “Wow. That’s…sad,” I concluded, feeling uncomfortable about our upcoming field trip. This wasn’t going to be educational. It was going to be awkward and heartbreaking.

  As though reading my mind, Orion said, “In order to create better understanding and to bridge the gap between our societies, one must first reach out and make the impact.”

  “...” I said.

  “Right. Well, many of the Cuckoo Ward patients are there only temporarily until our doctors and healers are able to properly rehabilitate them. This process sometimes takes months. Does that answer your questions?” Corona asked.

  “Yeah, it’s certainly a start,” I agreed as several magical entities walked past the help desk. “Thank you.”

  “Here are some more pamphlets that should help prepare you. I can assure you, the Cuckoo Ward patients live in absolute comfort. The MBRC takes full responsibility for its mistakes,” Corona promised me.

  I smiled, about to reply, when a young centaur joined me at the desk. He was my age, certainly a teenager, but what drew my attention to him was that he was nothing like Orion.

  He was bay-colored, like Westfall. His horse body had brownish fur, and his tail and hair on his head were ink black. At least, I think they were. The young centaur had dyed streaks of blue through the black strands. His hair was styled with some kind of sculpting gel, and he plastered it over one of his eyes, making him look like an off-center Cyclops who wore too much eyeliner. Unlike Orion, he wore a shirt and…well…his butt was branded. I’m not kidding: he had two butt brands on either cheek like some kind of ranch horse!

  He also had an iPod strapped to his upper arm, and I recognized the messenger bag that rested against his human torso as a laptop bag.

  To sum it up, if this teenage centaur didn’t have the horse body trailing after him, I would have thought for sure that he was a customer from Hot Topic!

  “Dad. I want to go out with my friends tonight. Mom says I need your permission,” the centaur said in a sulking voice.

  My eyes practically popped out of my head. This technology-toting, emo-posing colt was Orion’s offspring? Orion the mystical pony man? Orion the “look at the stars and the message will be clear” Orion?

  Orion frowned and addressed the younger centaur. “Ton
ight you have your celestial-gazing class.”

  “Not interested. My friends and I are going to listen to music and write gothic poetry,” Orion’s brat said, shaking his head. (His hair didn’t move an inch.)

  “Is that..?” I whispered to Corona.

  She nodded and glanced at the father and son. “Orion’s son, Perseus? Yes.”

  Orion’s frown intensified. “You have fallen behind in your studies, Perseus. You need to concentrate for the sake of your future.”

  “You don’t understand me!” Perseus hotly complained.

  I gawked at the mini family squabble with an open mouth. “I can’t believe he looks like that.”

  “Believe it. All the centaur teenagers are going through that dark phase. Dr. Creamintin told Orion that the young ones are just trying to create a separate identity as centaurs, and that went over like a fat pixie. Orion—all parent centaurs for that matter—is a traditionalist,” Corona said, placing her paws on the desk as she watched Orion.

  “You must look to the sky, Perseus,” Orion said, folding his arms across his chest.

  “Why? To see a roof?” Perseus snorted.

  “You are young. You do not understand the ways of this world.”

  “But I do know that life is unfair!”

  “…I don’t get what they’re arguing about anymore,” I hissed to Corona.

  She sighed, “Neither do they. Perseus, I would like to introduce you to Morgan. She’s the human that tutors Asahi,” Corona said to the centaur colt.

  Perseus turned to look at me and stared.

  “Hi,” I waved.

  “You’re human?”

  “Yeah.”

  “True-blue human?”

  “Yep.”

  “Do you go to high school and eat lunch in the school cafeteria?” he suspiciously asked.

  “…Yes?” I replied, wondering where he was going with this.

  “Do you listen to music and use computers?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Most importantly, do you have a cell phone?” he asked, leaning back and smirking at me like this was some test I was sure to fail.

  I frowned and pulled my phone out of my pocket and held it out.

  Perseus’ eyes widened. “Wow. You really are a human,” he said, sounding surprised.

  “Of course,” I frowned deeper, pocketing my cell phone and scooting away from him.

  “Rock on. You’re teaching a class, right? I’ll come with,” Perseus said, turning entirely away from his dad.

  “Um, nobody uses ‘rock on’ anymore, and I didn’t really invite you—” I trailed off when I saw Orion nodding violently behind him (or at least nodding as enthusiastically as Orion could manage while looking dignified and centaur-like). “But… of course you’re free to join us?” I offered with much hesitation.

  Orion gave me a closed-lip smile—the most approval I had seen from him. Ever.

  Suddenly, arms closed around my waist and a mini explosion hit my back.

  “WHOA!” I yelped.

  “Surprise!” Madeline said. “Come on, Morgan, we’ve got to get going,” she whined, letting my waist go only to drag me away by the arm.

  “Thanks, Corona!” I called over my shoulder before Morgan bodily dragged me away, Perseus trailing after us.

  “So, how are you? Asahi says he might have a better computer for us. What are we going over today?” Madeline chattered before glancing over her shoulder at me when we hit the staircase. “We have an Emo Equine tagalong. Someone you know?”

  “Yeah, I worked at the information desk with his dad. I guess he’s joining the class,” I said, glancing at Perseus, who was following us like a black, branded shadow. He appeared to have no problem climbing up the stairs. Interesting.

  The trip to the classroom was normal. Madeline talked and yanked on my hand, and Perseus clip-clopped behind us. But once we reached the room, things got interesting.

  “I think we need to take a fieldtrip to the Chicago Zoo,” Madeline announced as we swept inside the classroom.

  “Why?” I asked, baffled.

  “Because I’ve never been to a zoo before,” Madeline said, fluttering her eyelashes.

  I rolled my eyes. “Right, that should be our motivation for a fieldtrip,” I scoffed before falling silent when I realized just how quiet the room was.

  The reason for the silence was sitting next to a beaming Asahi in the front row.

  “Hi, Morgan,” the cheerful Arabian Night elf prince greeted me. “This is my brother, Aysel.”

  14

  Aysel, the Moon Flood

  Aysel.

  It was a name I had heard many times before but had never actually understood. I remembered Devin complaining about him, Corona commenting on him, and Madeline squirming over him.

  Now I understood why.

  If cheerful, brilliant, uniquely dressed Asahi was the opposite of how I pictured a High Elf, Aysel fulfilled my every stereotype.

  His hair was long, silky, and black as night. His eyes were piercing silver. He was willowy, fair skinned, and he dressed like the costume designer for Lord of the Rings was his personal tailor. He was wearing some kind of…robe-ish-draped cloak thing. The most elvish thing about him, however, was the pointed look of snobbish beauty he wore on his face like a mask.

  Aysel looked up and pinned me to the floor with his silver eyes. “Morgan,” he breathed, his voice quiet and cold. “I would like to speak to you. Outside.”

  “Okay,” I squeaked.

  Perseus squeezed through the door behind me, and plopped down next to the sphinx as Aysel stood.

  “Morgan, I’ll come with you,” Madeline said, her eyebrows drawing together in a frown.

  “No. I’ll be fine. Wait in here for me,” I said, patting her shoulder.

  Madeline looked unconvinced. “Devin warned me about Asahi, but he threatened me when it comes to Aysel,” she whispered.

  “It’s fine. What’s the worst he could do to me with a room full of witnesses just next door? Go sit down,” I hissed as the elf drew near.

  Madeline hesitated before she nodded and stepped aside.

  Aysel swept out of the room, obviously expecting me to follow. When I did, he closed the classroom door.

  “Miss Morgan, I was under the impression Dr. Creamintin made things clear to you,” he said, his voice sharp.

  “Made what clear to me?” I asked, taking a step backwards when he fixated his searing eyes on me.

  “You have been hired as my little brother’s tutor. I am not paying you to teach a room full of MBRC misfits. I am paying you to educate my little brother about human society.”

  “Technically, you haven’t paid me at all yet,” I said, the words spilling out of my mouth. Internally, I wailed and wanted to rip my own tongue out. WHAT WAS I SAYING?! I had no idea what made Aysel so powerful, but even I could tell he wore that power like a cloak!

  Aysel’s eyes narrowed into little slits before his face smoothed over like a fresh snow fall. “Additionally, you have failed to present any information of actual relevance and instead focus on interesting but useless human school psychology.”

  “No one told me what I was supposed to cover, so I was doing what I know best. If you have a curriculum, give it to me. I’ll totally follow it. But you can’t stick me with twentieth-century technology, no lesson plan, and then complain about it like an—” I quipped before slapping a hand over my mouth to cut off my sentence. I knew I was about to call Aysel an unschooled brat. What was wrong with me that I couldn’t filter my words?

  Both of Aysel’s dark eyebrows crawled up his forehead in a gesture of disdainful snobbery. “Twentieth-century technology?” he asked, his voice frighteningly calm as I slowly lowered my hand.

  “Yeah. Windows 98 is older than I am. If that’s the best technology you guys have, it’s no wonder you can’t understand humans,” I laughed before clamping my hands over my mouth again. Seriously, what was wrong with me?!

  Aysel frowned,
his silver eyes glittering as he studied me. “You may continue teaching your class of buffoons,” Aysel said, apparently choosing to ignore my pointed remarks—thankfully! “But you will tutor Asahi and Asahi alone for one hour every day. Do we have an understanding?” he asked, his voice as cold as stone.

  I nodded, not trusting myself to remove my hands from my willful mouth.

  Aysel smirked and swept away in his elf robes, leaving me standing alone in the corridor. When he was gone, I peeled my sweating palms away from my mouth and collapsed against the wall. What on Earth just happened?

  I pushed off the wall and rolled my shoulders back, clearing my throat before opening the door to the classroom and bowling over Madeline—who was pressed her ear against the door for the whole conversation.

  “Aha-hah, hi,” she sheepishly laughed, picking herself off the ground.

  I frowned at the blonde vampire but sucked in air like a man freed from prison. Aysel’s presence was…intimidating.

  “Yeah. Just like Asahi, Aysel’s name is very appropriate for him,” Madeline volunteered as she watched me flex my shoulders.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “As she did with Asahi, Aysel’s mother named him after seeing him. Aysel is Turkish for moon flood.” Madeline said, standing up.

  “Moon flood?” I muttered. How appropriate. Yes, Aysel’s searing eyes reminded me of the silver moon hanging in the sky. The cold way which he held himself and his jet black hair only added to the picture.

  “Of course Aysel is a girl name, but no one brings it up. He wears it like a male name, plus I’m pretty sure he would kill anyone who mentions that,” Madeline blithely continued.

  My mouth dropped open. “What?” I yelped. I was about to cross-examine Madeline when Asahi distracted me.

  “Morgan, did Aysel tell you?”

  I felt myself growing weary. “Tell me what?” I cautiously asked, drawing closer to the sunny elf, feeling his brilliant disposition warm my heart where his brother had frozen me.

  “About the computer? He lifted a computer with Windows XP and brought it here so you can show your PowerPoint presentations now,” Asahi grinned.

 

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