A Beginner's Guide to Fangs (Vampire Innocent Book 2)

by Matthew S. Cox

  Dad decides to overdo the nerdiness by whipping out a board game and inviting my friends to join us. Aww hell, why not?

  I have to guilt Michelle into playing, but Ashley’s been a fixture so long she’s the first one dragging a chair over to the dining room table. For the next like two hours, we sit around playing Descent, which is basically like that roleplaying stuff my dad likes but in board game form. Everyone gets a character, and there’s a dungeon map, and monsters.

  Sam’s super into it, too. He spends most of the time looking like a tiny general overseeing his troops, as if one wrong move would bring about nuclear Armageddon. Sophia, much to Michelle’s astonishment, knows the rules even better than Dad. Sierra loves roleplaying games too, but only the computer ones. The board game winds up being a middle ground, though she keeps giving me the squinty eye whenever I roll dice.

  “I’m not cheating,” I say. “I’m not that fast. If I caught the dice and changed them in midair, you’d see the blur.”

  “You can do that?” Ashley blinks at me, mouth agape.

  I shrug. “No idea. Never tried.”

  Everyone stares at me.

  “Fine.” I sigh, and grab three dice.

  I’ve gotten the hang of tapping my enhanced reflexes, so it’s pretty easy to accelerate myself after I toss the little plastic cubes in the air. As fast as I can possibly move, I snatch each of the gradually falling dice one by one in midair and turn them so they land on sixes. The first bounces off to a four, but two stay on six.

  “Okay, did you guys see that?”

  “Yeah.” Sierra nods. “You blurred.”

  Sam blinks in awe. “That was awesome!”

  “And way obvious,” says Sophia.

  “Wow.” Ashley pats me on the shoulder.

  So, with my non-cheating firmly established, the game continues.

  Sam and Sophia are yawning like mad by the time the game’s almost done. Mom and Dad don’t chase them off to bed―hey, it is summer after all―but as soon as the game is clearly over, they both run around hugging everyone before trudging upstairs to crash. Sierra heads back to the PlayStation in the living room.

  “Young lady, it’s after ten,” says Mom.

  She peers back over her shoulder with a look that makes me expect her sarcasm machine to open up on full blast, but to my surprise, she says, “Just putting it away.”

  “Oh.” Mom yawns. “Sorry.”

  Sierra kneels and packs the PlayStation back into the cabinet. “Your suspicions are based on historic observations. If I wasn’t ready to pass out, I would’ve started playing.”

  “Going downstairs,” I say.

  “Are you in for the night?” asks Dad.

  “Yeah, probably. Grabbed a bite on our way home. Oops.” I spin to face Michelle. “I left the food in your back seat.”

  She chucks me her keys.

  “Dibs,” yells Sierra. “Tomorrow.”

  I run out to the Kia and grab the foam box.

  “What is it?” asks Sierra when I return.

  “Tipsy Cow. Burger and fries. It’ll be in the fridge. Whoever gets it first.”

  Michelle and Ashley follow me into the kitchen, wait while I stash the burger, and head down to my new room.

  “Since when did you move your room to the basement?” asks Michelle.

  I stick my fangs out at her while making a sarcastic face.

  “Oh, right.” She biffs herself in the forehead.

  “Whoa,” says Ashley, looking around. “It’s kinda different and the same all at once.”

  Michelle pokes the printout of a sunny backyard window on the cinder block wall. “Nice touch.”

  Staring at the overly green summer afternoon makes me sigh. My mother took that picture like the second or third day I’d been home after waking up as a vampire. Probably while I still slept straight to sunset. “I asked Mom for that before I knew I could tolerate the sun in small doses. Thought I’d never see daylight again.”

  “Aww.” Ashley hugs me from behind.

  “I mean, I guess that’s technically true. If it’s that bright outside, it’ll probably roast me.”

  Ashley giggles, pointing at my bed. “Oh wow. You took out Flopsy’s Army.”

  Michelle raises an eyebrow.

  I blush. “Umm. Yeah.”

  “Forgot how cute they were.” Ashley sits on the bed. “But you should probably stick them in the closet before you bring Hunter down here. They’ll totally kill the mood.”

  “Just a little,” mutters Michelle. “But they are cute.” She squints at me. “You do look younger. Are you like still going backwards? You gonna like keep going ’til you look like Sierra? You know stuffed animals may be an early warning sign that your cuteness is out of control.”

  “Might be time for an intervention,” says Ashley, her face mushed into the head of Flopsy the stuffed rabbit.

  Hey, I was like six when I named it. And his ears are super floppy.

  “Ha. Ha,” I say.

  I’ve got a TV in my room, nowhere near as grand as the living room screen, but we can be louder down here without getting in trouble. Even more so than had we been in my old bedroom upstairs. Michelle pulls up Netflix and picks Monkeybone.

  We mostly hang out and talk, occasionally distracted by the movie. Michelle’s stressed out about school, but it’s still July. Ashley flits from topic to topic at random as she usually does. Her cat, her mom, she might get a summer job but doesn’t know what she wants to do, she’s happy I’m still here, dude you could’ve totally killed those four losers, and so on.

  Other than the occasional mention of vampire stuff, chilling in my room with my friends feels nice and normal. Worse than the fangs, however, is the specter of the future hanging over me. I hate that I’m only eighteen and I’m having thoughts like ‘ugh we’re going to be adults soon.’ Is that coming from dying and getting back up, or would I be this square normally? I’ve gotta be some kinda dork to think like that. The summer of being eighteen is supposed to be the last hurrah of childhood before the falling anvil of responsibilities crushes the coyote into the desert.

  Really, why the heck am I even worrying about this? I am basically an eternal child. Work? Yeah right. If I even could find a job that wouldn’t kill me by requiring I go outside during the day, it’s not like I’d really even need a job to get money. Anything I need, I can command people to give me or use my abilities to take. Not that I plan on going crazy with it.

  Anyway… I bonk myself on the side of the head a couple times like I’m trying to get a non-cooperating engine to start up. Right now, I want to be a carefree teen. Enjoy my friends while they’re still here kinda stuff.

  A little after midnight, Michelle stands with a huge yawn. “I gotta go. I’ll catch hell if I get in the door much later than this.”

  “Okay.”

  After a three-way hug, I walk her up to the front porch.

  “Drive safe.”

  “I will.”

  Nothing moves in the shadows to chase her, so I’ll call that a win. The luck I’m having, I’m half expecting werewolves to attack me next. I shut the door after she drives out of the cul-de-sac, and make my way back downstairs. Chiming from the Netflix browse screen greets me when I arrive back in my room, Ashley scrolling around titles.

  “Hey,” she says.

  I flop down on the floor next to her.

  “You tired?”

  “Hah. Yeah right.”

  She grins. “I’m not either.”

  Oh, shit. She did spend a really long time with Aurélie. I lean close and sniff her neck. Whew… still warm blood pumping there.

  “What?” Ashley giggles, cringing. “Are you doing?”

  “Just making sure you’re still alive.”

  She sticks her tongue out at me. “I don’t wanna be a vampire. At least not yet. Maybe later after I have a kid or two.”

  “You gonna find a guy and have them or a girl and adopt?”

  Ashley shrugs. “Ma
ybe both. I wanna have at least one that’s mine, but adopting’s a thought. I could do that as a vamp.”

  “I’m not making you into a vampire.” I poke her in the side. “Besides. I don’t even know how to do it. No one has showed me that.”

  She picks Original Sin, probably to ogle Antonio Banderas. Still, that’s better than a horror movie. Ashley always winds up screaming too loud and causing Dad to come pound on the door and yell at us. We migrate onto the bed, sitting with our backs propped up against the wall. Looking at my bare feet sticking out the legs of my jeans makes me think back to how we used to paint each other’s nails. Wow… what were we, like ten or eleven then? Mom didn’t let me touch cosmetics until fifteen, but nail polish was okay. The first time I saw Ashley, she had black fingernails with little silver pentagrams on them. Or at least a ten-year-old’s best attempt at drawing tiny pentagrams. She’d done a good enough job for it to be the last straw that got her expelled from Catholic school.

  That, of course, had been her goal.

  Maybe it had been the nice close-up view she gave one of the nuns of her middle fingernail. Though, I think Ashley made that part up to impress me. She’d never have had the nerve to flip off a nun, not at ten. Maybe not even now.

  We sit in the dark for a while watching the movie until it hits a steamy scene.

  Ashley’s cheeks flush to match her hair color.

  Best not to embarrass her more by letting on that I noticed. Given the dim light, a non-vampire most likely wouldn’t have.

  The mood in the air gets awkward after another minute or two.

  “Aurélie showed me some stuff,” says Ashley. “All sorts of stuff I never even dreamed people could do.”

  “Umm…”

  “I’m scared.”

  That catches me off guard. I put a hand on her shoulder, concerned. “Of Aurélie?”

  “No.” She turns her head to look at me. “Of never finding anyone who can make me feel like she did. I mean, I know she’s like a super old vampire and she’s had more sex than even God, so she knows every trick, but…”

  “It’s pretty unfair to use her as any sort of comparison. No normal person is going to have a chance.”

  “I don’t know why I did that.”

  “Did what?”

  She fidgets. “Wanted to go into her bedroom.”

  “Do you think she compelled you?”

  Ashley shrugs one shoulder. “No. It doesn’t really feel like I did anything I didn’t want to do. It’s more like I got way drunk and did something I fantasized about, but would never do for real. You know, like kiss you.”

  I bite my lip.

  She looks back at me and reaches up to brush my hair off my face. “I mean, you always say you’re so plain, but you’re really pretty. You’re too critical of yourself. And now, you’re like way cute. I don’t know if I want to make out with you or adopt you.”

  I emit the bastard offspring of an “Umm” and a chuckle. “Thanks?”

  “Ever since that night with Aurélie, I can’t stop thinking about sex. I mean I was at Safeway with my mom last week and I saw this cucumber and I…”

  “You didn’t.” I gasp.

  “Oh, heck no.” She shakes her head. “I just thought about the shape and almost fell ’cause my knees wanted to give out. It was so embarrassing being all turned on and stuff right next to my mom.”

  Warmth spreads over my cheeks.

  “What are you blushing for?” Ashley giggles.

  “That’s so embarrassing, I’m mortified even hearing it happened to you.”

  She looks up, her bright blue eyes sparkling with desire. “Red looks good on you.” Her hand alights on my knee and creeps up over my thigh.

  I squirm. “Umm. Ash…”

  Her hand freezes. A second later, she blinks at me as if snapping out of a trance. “Oh, shit.” She pulls her hand back and curls up in a ball. “Whoa. Sarah, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I guess I’m still revved up from Aurélie. Sorry for jumping back like you burned me. You’re totally pretty, but we’re like beyond best friends and I think my brain’s having trouble dealing with those two ideas crashing into each other.”

  “It’s all right.” I put an arm around her back. “I think Aurélie’s power hit you really hard.”

  Ashley lifts her face away from her knees and gives me a sheepish look. “What power?”

  “She’s obsessed with being pretty, and she uses it to control people around her. It’s so strong it even works on other vampires. She gives off this like ‘love me’ energy. I felt it, too. She’s got to put effort into not affecting people.”

  Ashley whistles. “Wow. What’s it like if she tries to hammer someone with it?”

  “I have no idea and I’m not sure I want to know.”

  “Sorry I keep getting turned on being around you. I hate making you uncomfortable.”

  Looking at the clock and seeing 1:44 a.m. still makes me want to yawn even though I’m wide awake. Wonder how long it’ll take me to think of it like 1:44 p.m. “It’s fine, Ash. You’re going through some really complicated emotional crap right now. Though, if I was Aurélie’s age, I’d probably be so bored with sex I’d experiment with girls, too.”

  “Sorry. Forgot you’re straight.”

  I poke her in the side. “How do you forget that?”

  She shoots me a flat look. “I got turned on by produce. That’s not normal.”

  “Kinda gives new meaning to vegging out with the boyfriend, but it’s good you’re trying to, umm, squash, those desires.”

  For that, I get a pillow across the face.

  We laugh ourselves to tears, and spend the next few minutes behaving like tweens walloping each other with pillows.

  When the giggling subsides, I grab her in a headlock. “It’s more than the straight thing. It’s too weird because we’ve known each other so long. You’re like my sister. ”

  She attacks my ribs, tickling. I squeal and lose my grip. Before she can jump on my leg and tickle my foot, I blur backward, leaving her diving face first into empty mattress.

  “Hey, no fair!” she wails, then rolls onto her back and cracks up again.

  I cheat again, grabbing her ankle faster than she can react, and tickling her foot.

  Peals of laughter turn into sobbing. Alarmed, I let go and crawl up to look her in the eye. “What’s wrong?”

  She wraps her arms around me. “You almost died! And I saw it. And I just sat there doing nothing.”

  “Ash.” I grab her cheeks in both hands. “Look at me. And no, I’m not going to play with your head.”

  Her gaze focuses on mine.

  “Scott killed me instantly. Dalton was watching, too. A vampire. He couldn’t move fast enough to stop it. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything.”

  Sniffling, she nods.

  “Say it. Say it’s not my fault.”

  Her lip twitches.

  “Don’t make me compel you to accept it.” I grin.

  “It’s not my fault,” she mumbles.

  I hug her tight. “Please believe that. There’s nothing you could’ve done. Besides, I’m still here.”

  “But you can’t go to the beach anymore.”

  “Ash. Really. How often did we ever go to the beach?”

  She shrugs. “I dunno.”

  “Twice. In eight years.”

  “Really?”

  I nod in a slow, exaggerated manner. “Yes. We both hated the sand.”

  “But you’re…”

  “I’m what?” I ask. “What can’t I do now that we always did?”

  “Go outside when it’s super bright.”

  Sitting back, I fold my arms and smirk. “And how often did we go out and do stuff?”

  “Okay, okay. It feels different and bad, and I don’t know why.”

  “I think it’s the trauma of watching him attack me. Do you want to forget it?”

  “Umm.” Ashley peers through a curtain of red hai
r, staring at me for a few minutes before her head shakes ever so slightly. “No… I gotta figure out how to deal with it.”

  “Maybe you’re just afraid we’re growing up.”

  She purses her lips. “Could be. Or I’m ashamed of myself for having a crush on you. Did you know there’s stories of people who met like in third grade, lived close to each other, and wound up getting married?”

  “I think I saw a post about that. That’s so cute.”

  “Yeah.”

  I reach over and part her hair off her face, tucking it behind her ears. “Are you like really in love with me?”

  “I can’t tell.” She bites her lip. “If I was, would it go anywhere?”

  Deep breath time. “I do love you, a lot, as a best friend-slash-sister. If you’re like really messed up in love with me, maybe we could try something, but I’m terrified. I’d be totally wrecked if things went wrong and ruined our friendship.”

  Tears roll down her face, but she smiles and lunges into a (totally innocent) hug. “Thank you.”

  “For?” I ask.

  “Caring enough about me that you don’t want to hurt me.” She sniffles, then laughs. “You’re right. It would be too weird. I’d be really trashed if we ever had a fight and stopped talking to each other.”

  “Yeah, that would kill me more than Scott’s knife.”

  She leans back and gawks.

  “What? That’s just physical death. Emotional death is way worse.”

  Ashley gets choked up for a little while, but she smiles the whole time. “My head’s still spinning from that woman. Holy cow. Maybe I should date a dude for a while. But nothing will ever compare to Aurélie. She had this soft rope and did this thing with her tongue, and when she―”

  “Too much information.” I hold up the TMI hand.

  She tries to continue, but I put ‘TMI hand’ over her mouth until she cracks up.

  “Wow, it’s late.” She glances at the clock. “I’m overtired and getting silly. Mind if I crash here tonight? I’m too out of it to walk home.”

  Ashley only lives like three houses down past the end of the cul-de-sac, but randomly sleeping at each other’s place is an old habit of ours. Not to mention, I can tell she wants to be with me. She hasn’t quite recovered from her grief over hearing I had died.