The guy attacking her drags her out of the car by her hair. She spins to get away, but he wraps his arms around her.
“It’s the brunette!” yells Mad Max. “Get the others away from the creature before it explodes in a fireball!”
“Asshole!” Michelle shouts, “Let go of me!”
“Stop fighting. I’m trying to help you,” yells the van driver.
Black-T shirt emits a high-pitched yowling squeal. I’m pretty sure Ashley just punched him in the balls.
“Creature’s neutralized,” says Mad Max, walking up to me, his empty crossbow held up in one hand as if he’s some kind of trophy hunter.
I shift my gaze down to examine the stake protruding from between my breasts. “I’ve never had a guy put his wood there before. But my ex wanted to.”
The guy sputters.
“You staked me,” I say, deadpan, and roll my eyes. “Seriously?” It occurs to me I’m not paralyzed. I think that might’ve hurt so much I fainted. Or at least did the closest thing a vampire can do to fainting.
Mad Max’s eyes widen enough that I half expect them to fall out.
I sit up and grab the stake. Oh, that sucker’s in there deep. Wiggling it grates the point against my spine. Ugh, that’s disgusting. I can hear the wood rubbing up against bone since the vibration runs right up into my skull. With a faint grunt, I twist and pull the stake out. Cool air invades the hole it left behind. The rod’s about a foot long, one inch thick, sharpened to a point, though the tip’s flattened a bit from hitting me. And, oh yeah, my blood coats like the first five inches of it.
And I thought the ice cream felt weird on the way out.
The guy scrambles to pull another stake off his post-apocalyptic vest.
“I can’t believe you actually shot me with a stake-crossbow.” I peer down at my chest, and notice the head of the little chibi anime girl on my T-shirt is gone, a hole in its place. Oh, now I’m pissed. “Dammit! My kid sister gave me this shirt for Christmas!”
Mad Max screams as I float up off the road and fly at him. He scrambles to backpedal, but I easily overtake him and tear the second stake from his hand before ramming it into his right thigh so deep the point comes out the back of his leg. Screaming, he careens over backward and I snag the crossbow out of his grip. While he lays there writhing in pain, I smash the weapon over my leg, twisting until it comes apart in two pieces, which I throw as hard as I can into the woods beside the road. Distant thumps echo back a few seconds later.
“You are a total asshole!” I shout, then spin to point at Black T-Shirt. “Get the hell off my friend. Or the next stake is going into a body cavity.”
He limps away from Ashley, cradling his groin. Van Driver abandons his effort to ‘drag Michelle to safety,’ and runs around the back end, heading straight for me. At a glint of metal in his hand, I tilt my head, eyebrows together. Seriously?
Only, it’s not a knife… he’s got a crucifix.
“Begone!” yells Van Driver. He shoves his savior-on-a-stick in my face while slinging water at me and reciting something in Latin.
I sigh at the clouds. “Really? Did you guys just watch a bad movie and decide to become vampire hunters?”
A faint sense of cold in my chest tells me I’ve got new skin where my shirt’s sporting a hole. Ignoring the continuing splash of water from a small plastic bottle, I examine the spot. Wow. That closed up pretty quick.
“Away, fiend!” yells Van Driver.
“Really dude? What are you doing?” I swat the bottle out of his hand. “Stop that. It’s really annoying.”
Mad Max rolls back and forth on the road next to the van, grabbing the stake sticking out of his leg and groaning in pain.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?”
Ashley flings herself at Black T-Shirt, punching and kicking at him while he mostly tries to guard his balls.
Van Driver raises his gold crucifix. “In the name of Jesus I―”
I swipe the crucifix from his grip so fast my arm blurs. “Hmm. This is pretty, even if it is kinda morbid to carry a statue of a dead guy around. You guys seriously need to bone up on vampire lore.”
He stares at me, dumbfounded.
I grab van driver by a fistful of shirt and pull him close. “I guess that was supposed to be holy water. Doesn’t work. But…” I glance off in thought while holding the guy up off his feet by one hand. “I suppose maybe if the vampire’s particularly evil, it might do something.”
“You’re all evil!” rasps Van Driver.
Black T-Shirt wails as Ashley’s foot finds testicles for the third time.
“No…” I nod toward her. “That’s evil. And, you owe me for one hole through my chest.”
He screams for half a second―probably expecting me to rip his throat out―until I overpower his mind, giving him a brief trip to derpville. He stares vacantly into space as I clamp my fangs onto the side of his neck. Ugh. His blood tastes like those crappy bland-as-hell cookies old people like, the ones that come in tins, with a hint of plain tea. That’s gotta be the churchiness. Reminds me of Dad’s mom. She always puts those nasty cookies out. I love her to death, but blargh woman! Learn what chocolate chips are.
Ashley walks up behind him, staring at me in awe. “Wow, you bit him.”
I mumble, trying to say, “He shot me,” but the sound coming out of me doesn’t form words.
“It’s rude to talk with your mouth full.” Ashley shakes her head. She watches me drink for a few seconds before saying, “Umm… That guy you threw off the road is limping up behind you.”
Still drinking, I roll my eyes and sigh out my nose.
“I got it,” chirps Ashley with a smile. She darts around me. “Stop.”
“Outta the way, kid. I can’t let the fiend kill Mike.” He grunts like he’s trying to shove her out of the way, but his broken ribs give her the strength advantage.
Michelle approaches me with her phone out. “Should I or should I not call the police?”
Ashley, Hoodie, and Mad Max all say, “No cops!” at the same time.
I would have too, but my mouth is full.
Black T-Shirt continues to meep while cradling his groin.
Mad Max struggles to his feet, still clutching the stake protruding from his thigh. After a few tentative tugs fails to dislodge it, he leans one arm on the van for support and shambles toward me. “Don’t kill him…”
I hold up a ‘one sec’ finger at him. After a few more gulps, I close the bite wound off and let go. Dammit I’m gonna be tasting those cookies for the next three hours, and I’ll probably wind up thinking of this moron the next time we’re at Grandma’s. At least I don’t feel hungry anymore. “Ahh. Much better.” The lightest push at his chest sends Van Driver, uhh, Mike, over backward. “I’m not going to kill him, even though you shot me.”
“But… you’re a vampire.” Mad Max blinks at me.
“And you’re a total douche, but that doesn’t mean I should ram a broom handle into your heart.” I grab him by the vest and shake him back and forth. “You ruined my favorite T-shirt. I ought to break your face.”
Ashley makes a fist at Hoodie, who flinches back as she yells, “I don’t need saving. She’s my friend! I’ve known her since fifth grade!”
“How could you guys wanna kill her?” Michelle throws an arm around me. “She’s totes adorbs.”
“Since when did you start using phrases like ‘totes adorbs,’ Miss Law School?” I ask.
“I’d laugh, but I’m too pissed off.” Michelle scowls at her Kia.
I gesture at the back of her car. “At least there’s no damage.”
“He broke my effing window! My father’s going to kill me!” yells Michelle.
“We’ll come up with a story for the window. No one’s going to believe vampire hunters.”
Michelle folds her arms. “He’s not gonna believe any BS we come up with.”
I wink. “Sure he will.”
She stares at me, arguing with herself for a fe
w seconds before gesturing at Mad Max. “What about his leg?”
“Oh. Sorry. That’s a nasty splinter.” I snatch the stake and pull it out.
The guy howls in pain and falls on his ass.
“You’re Queen of Camelot now,” says Ashley.
“That’s sword in a stone, not stake in a dumbass,” mutters Michelle.
“You should probably get that looked at. Oh, and…” I squat beside him and stare into his eyes. “Give me your wallet.”
He mechanically pulls it out and hands it over.
“You’re robbing the guy?” asks Michelle?
“No. He ruined the shirt Sierra gave me last Christmas. He’s going to replace it.” I pop it open and pull out a twenty-dollar bill as well as a fiver. “He’s only paying for what he damaged.”
“What about my window?” asks Michelle.
“Anything official is going to trace back to this guy and his story about vampires.” I flip the wallet closed and toss it back to him.
Ashley gasps. “I know! Just tell him it was smashed when we came out of the theater.”
“Okay.” Michelle nods. “That works, and it won’t require messing with his head.”
Mad Max puts his wallet away.
“Now,” I say, gazing into his eyes. “You and your friends are going to leave me alone. When handling crossbows, you ought to be more careful so you don’t shoot yourself in the leg again. And vampires aren’t real. Geez. What are you, twelve?”
Mad Max laughs. “Yeah, vampires, hah. What makes you think I believe that stuff?”
I smile. “Oh, and one more thing. The next time you see Girl Scouts selling cookies, you will want to buy a hundred bucks worth of Thin Mints.”
“Thin Mints,” moans the guy like a zombie.
Ashley covers her mouth with both hands, giggling.
“Dude, you totally possessed Terry,” says Hoodie.
“Possession implies control or inhabitation.” I spin to face him. “I didn’t do that at all.”
Hoodie goes blank-faced as I remove his memory of our little meeting… and of vampires being real. While I’m in his head, I realize he’s the jackass who had been stalking me at the carnival, too. Yeah, that’s a memory he doesn’t need to keep. My thought surgery leaves him staring into the ninth dimension, so I toss him in the van and head over to where Mike remains laid out on the road between the van and Kia. “Oh, this is yours.” I squat beside him and tuck the crucifix back in his jean pocket before grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him up to make eye contact. “Vampires aren’t real, and we never met.”
Still in a fog from my earlier whammy, he doesn’t react with anything more than a slight increase in drool. After tossing him in the van on top of Hoodie like a bag of cat litter, I stalk toward Black T-Shirt.
He sees me coming and scrambles to his feet, running off into the woods while shrieking.
Oh, that’s cute.
A short flight lets me drop down in front of him.
The guy screams like a teenage girl from a horror movie.
“Ash, I think you kicked this one too hard,” I yell.
Her loud laugh echoes back from the distant road.
“Nooooo!” yells the guy, darting to the side.
I spring at him, grabbing him with one hand around the throat and lifting him off the ground. We fly, me shoving him backward by the neck, until we crash into a tree. The instant I stare into his eyes, he wets himself. Oh, dude, really? Eww. Standing at arm’s length, I overwrite his memory of tonight, and do my damndest to make him forget vampires are real. He faints as soon as I drop the mental link. Great. I stoop and grab the back of his belt, then drag him by it back to the road.
Michelle, crouching behind her car, checks over the bumper.
“How bad is it?” I ask, right before tossing the guy in on top of his pals.
“A few scuff marks, but no cracks or anything.” Michelle snarls.
“I’d offer to dent their van but it’s older than I am, and I don’t think they’d notice.”
Michelle stands and shakes her head. “Not worth it. Let’s just get outta here.”
A tickle itches at the back of my throat. I cough, but it won’t go anywhere. Ugh, that’s annoying. Please don’t tell me I’m getting a cold. Wait. Can vampires get colds? I rub the front of my throat while walking to the Kia.
“Yeah,” I croak. “Good idea.”
Too Much Information
12
Ashley pounce-hugs me before I can get in. “Holy shit, Sare. You had like this huge thing sticking out of you.”
“Yeah… I’m over it.”
“Aww. Your shirt,” says Ashley, pouting. “It was so cute.”
I’m half-tempted to go back over there and kick that guy again. “I’ll get another one before Sierra notices.”
“What happened to the…” Ashley sticks her finger in the hole and traces the circle on my skin. “Umm, piece.”
“No idea. How the hell does a pointy stake act like a hole punch?” I scowl.
She keeps tracing the hole and starts feeling around the side of my boob.
“Umm, Ash?” I ask.
“Hmm?” She makes eye contact, looking confused.
“Your fingers are drifting. Wound’s a few inches back the other way.”
Ashley looks at my chest again. “Oops.”
“Your hand’s still in my shirt.”
“Probably ripped it,” says Michelle. “Look on the road. It probably came out your back.”
I shake my head. “Nope. Didn’t go all the way through me.”
“Are you sure?” asks Michelle. “Not like you can see your back.”
“It stopped”―I cough on the scratchy tickle in my throat―“It hit my spine and stopped.”
She cringes.
“Sorry.” Ashley pokes at where the stake had been for a little while more, then lowers her arm. “Your skin is so soft. I’m kinda jealous.”
“Yeah.” I smirk. “It’s truly to die for.”
Michelle groans.
“At least I know who was following me. The guy in the hoodie was the same guy from the movie theater. Saw him at the carnival, too.”
“Carnival?” asks Michelle from inside the car. “And get in so we can get the hell out of here before the derp you hit them with wears off.”
Ashley and I climb in. Michelle accelerates before I even close my door. We all stare at the mirrors for a few minutes, until we’re confident cops aren’t going to come out of nowhere. Once we relax―as much as one can relax after such an experience―I tell them about my trip to the carnival with Hunter, coughing and rubbing my neck every few seconds. The feeling of something dry and icky in the back of my throat gets worse, and maddening.
“Ugh.” I gag. “I’m half tempted to cut my neck open.”
“What is it?” asks Ashley.
“Something”―I cough into gagging―“Something, uhh, stuck in my throat.”
No longer able to stand the sensation, I open my mouth and jam my finger in as deep as I can. My fingertip brushes a foreign object… and also sets off my vomit reflex. I lurch forward, retching. After dry heaving a few times, I spit out a small patch of bloody fabric with a cute anime girl face on it.
Ashley cracks up.
“Oh, no. No. No. No.” Michelle looks away, waving me off. “Put that thing out of my sight before I throw up all over my car.”
“At least you didn’t lose it,” says Ashley between giggles.
I stuff it into my pocket. “Wow has my life gone off the rails. Random guys want to show me their wood, and she’s laughing about it.”
Michelle cracks a grin while Ashley laughs harder, to the point it sounds like she might stop breathing.
“You said that on purpose.” Michelle smirks.
“Yep.” I grin, but sigh as soon as she’s no longer looking at me.
My friends are amused that someone stabbed me in the heart―again. And I’m freaking out that I’m not fr
eaking out, if that makes any sense.
“Hey,” says Ashley. “Where do vampire hunters go for dinner?”
I groan. Before she can answer, I blurt, “A stake house.”
“Aww.” She swats my shoulder.
“You’re awful. Both of you.” Michelle chuckles.
With an almost-genuine smile, I recline in my seat and pull out my iPhone. Wonder if this shirt is on Amazon. Pretty sure it is. Otherwise, I’ll have to ask Mom where she took Sierra to get it. A few minutes of searching later, I get lucky and find it. Order placed, I put my phone away and sigh in relief. Am I going to have to confine myself to wearing clothing that I won’t miss when it gets ripped apart and soaked in blood? First Scott shreds that dress, now this?
We arrive at my place without further incident. I walk in to find my parents in the living room watching Sierra and Sam wallop each other around in a video game. Sophia’s stretched out with her head resting on Mom’s leg, face buried in her Kindle.
Dad looks up from an enormous book as we’re all ditching our shoes. “Hi, girls. Have fun at the movies?”
I twist around to glance behind us.
“What are you looking for?” asks Dad.
“The cameraman. When did we become a sitcom?”
Michelle snickers.
“Huh?” Dad stares at me.
I tug my hoodie closed over the hole in my shirt, trying to act casual. “’Hi girls, have fun at the movies’ sounds like something a TV dad would ask.”
“Or a serious nerd,” says Sierra, grinning.
“Well, you two must be mine then. You’re serious, and your sister’s a nerd.” Dad winks at Sophia.
“Guilty,” says Sophia.
“Be right back,” I say as I dart for the kitchen and the stairs down to my room.
Having the awesome speed, reflexes, and strength of a vampire lets me do amazing and powerful things… like change out of a blood-soaked shirt before Mom notices. I race down to my bedroom and pull off my ruined favorite tee and bury it in the pile of ‘for the wash’ laundry in the corner. Might as well liberate the girls from the bra while I’m at it. I grab the first replacement I can reach, a beige babydoll top with pleats down to my thighs, then head back upstairs. It feels so good not to have that torture device strapped around my chest, I stand in the hall a moment, enjoying the freedom. Oh, cool! My body is frozen in time. I don’t have to worry about getting saggy in my old age if I skip wearing bras more often.
A Beginner's Guide to Fangs (Vampire Innocent Book 2) Page 14
