Trials of a Teenage Werevulture (Trilogy of a Teenage Werevulture Book 1)

by Emily Martha Sorensen

  She waited for the murmurs to calm down, and then removed the other boot. Both of her legs were the same, ending in a broad cloven hoof.

  “I am a vampire,” she said calmly, “and not a basajaun. I’m also not a jiangshi, as you can tell. I am a baobhan sith.”

  This revelation was met with a lot of blank stares.

  “Her species has been persecuted for centuries,” Rodrigo explained. “Are you any of you familiar with Irish mythology, or with the story of Rip Van Wrinkle?”

  A few people raised their hands.

  “Both of those have a common thread,” he said, “the idea of people aging more slowly or quickly than others around them. The idea of sleeping one night and waking up many years later. The idea of time being stretched.”

  At this point, you could hear a pin drop.

  “I’m a time vampire,” Loretta Vampireclanso-called-jiangshi said. “I can take time from people, or give it away.”

  I could hear the person beside me breathing, almost a gasp.

  “There are some species,” Rodrigo said softly, “so rare that if a turning goes wrong and someone turns into one of them, they will be persecuted. Perhaps even killed. This is why she has continued to pretend to be a jiangshi for her entire life. This is why she came to me for help.”

  Silence rang across the room. Nobody dared speak.

  “Why could you help?” the mothman guy demanded.

  Nobody dared speak except him, apparently.

  Rodrigo nodded solemnly. “As you all know, I am an aswang. You may think you know my species’s magical ability.”

  “Yes,” a girl said. “You can shapeshift into whoever you suck blood from.”

  He nodded. “So I can. But that’s not the extent of an aswang’s abilities. As with all vampires, the amount of power I have to draw on depends on how much blood I drink.”

  Immediately, people started looking at each other with panicked, Are-we-about-to-be-dinner? expressions.

  “All vampires who drink blood,” Loretta Vampireclanbaobhansith said, sliding her boots back on her feet. “All vampires require more of the thing they need.”

  “Oh, of course,” Rodrigo said, laughing and shaking his head. “My apologies.”

  The tension in the room had not eased.

  “No, I’m not going to drink from any of you,” Rodrigo chuckled, seeming to notice the tension at last. “Nor is she going to suck time from any of you. Unlike draculas, aswangs aren’t dependent on blood from humans or people, so I don’t even visit the Red Cross. I get all I need from the grocery store. Cow’s blood is cheap.”

  Several people let out a long sigh of relief.

  “I simply mentioned that so that you understand why I can do something most aswangs aren’t aware they can do,” Rodrigo said. “Shapeshifting is the power most are aware of, but there’s far more to it than that. At a higher level of power, and with the right tool, we can control shape.”

  The centaur plodded forward, and the crowd parted to let him through. Nobody bolted for the door, not even me. What point would there have been, when Loretta Vampireclanbaobhansith could just have caught us in an instant?

  Besides, this sort of explanation was the reason I was here.

  The centaur, I now saw, had a large backpack with the strap across his shoulder and the bag sitting on his back.

  He removed the backpack and handed it to Rodrigo, then clopped back through the crowd to the back of the room.

  Rodrigo unzipped the backpack, and then casually pulled out a pale pink, glowing turning stone.

  “This is the right tool,” he said.

  Somebody screamed, and somebody else shouted. People were running for the door now, and the poisonous tree guy immediately sprouted roots and turned into a small tree.

  About half looked as confused as I would have felt if I hadn’t had taint explained to me two days ago, but the panic from the others quickly infected them.

  A vampire girl brandished sharp fangs and sank them into the centaur’s flank. The guard flinched, but he didn’t budge.

  The new boy went insubstantial — Oh, apparently he’s a specter — and tried to jump through the wall. His jump abruptly started going very, very slowly.

  The hot guy turned into a pumpkin, tumbled to the ground, and then seemed to think better of it and shifted back into human form. Little wonder, since he hadn’t even had fangs.

  As for me, I just stood there, numb with shock. Why was Rodrigo showing us this? Why was he holding that thing?

  “No, I’m not going to taint you,” Rodrigo said loudly. “That’s not what this is for. When you come back and calm down, I’ll explain.”

  The frenzy went on to no avail, but Rodrigo just continued to wait patiently, holding the stone, showing no signs of monstrous behavior. After a moment, people started to calm down, and a few crept nervously back.

  “Thank you,” Rodrigo said, smiling at the wereechidna girl. “Now, do we have everyone listening?”

  All eyes went to the specter, who was still almost-frozen in midair.

  Loretta Vampireclanbaobhansith walked over to him, sighed, and stood in front of his face, tapping her fingers on her arm.

  A moment later, he started gradually going substantial again. As soon as she saw that, Loretta Vampireclanbaobhansith nodded, and he was entirely substantial again and moving at normal speed.

  “You’re right, this is a tainted turning stone,” Rodrigo said, even though nobody had said it and probably half the people in the room didn’t know what that meant. “And in the hands of anyone else, you would be right to fear. Tainted turning stones are very, very dangerous, in normal circumstances.”

  “Wh-what do . . .” the wereechidna girl ventured. “What do . . . they do?”

  “They change people,” Rodrigo said.

  “They turn people into monsters!” the poisonous guy shouted, shifting back from being a tree. Then he shifted back, pointing his branches threateningly outward.

  “Yes,” Rodrigo said, nodding. “That is the usual description. And yes, it’s fairly accurate. Taint works much like a cancer: it causes turning stones to give people unstable changes, ones that become more and more and more extreme until the person finally dies from it. Madness usually results before then.”

  I shivered, and I wasn’t the only one.

  “Is it . . .” a lorelei guy asked, raising his hand nervously. “Is it only people . . . or are humans affected, too?”

  “Good question,” Rodrigo said. “Humans are not immune. In fact, with the unturned, changes tend to be more quick and extreme.”

  Almost everybody shuddered.

  Rodrigo nodded. “The problem with taint is its uncontrollability. Its uncertainty. Its chaos.”

  He paused.

  “I can control taint.” k'12

  Dead silence spread across the room.

  “I have no interest in forcing you to do anything you don’t want to do,” Rodrigo said. “I don’t have this stone to threaten you. Quite the opposite. I’m making you an offer: If you want to change your species, I can do that.”

  People just stared at him. Several mouths were agape.

  “Isn’t that illegal?” someone ventured. It looked like the girl who was named either Jordan or Alex.

  “It is absolutely illegal,” Rodrigo said.

  “Isn’t it wrong?” somebody else asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Rodrigo said. “I told you all I started Rarity Clan as a service to those who have no clan of their species to go to. I did.”

  My breath caught in my throat. Everything he said sounded so reasonable, and . . .

  I could be a werehawk. I could be a werehawk, like I wanted to be in the first place.

  No more eating garbage. No more being without a clan. No more being-same-species-as-Benedict-stinking-Arnold.

  “I won’t ask you to decide right now,” Rodrigo said. “We have pizza, soda, and places to sit and chat. I want you to take an hour or two to think about it. If
you want to be turned, come and tell me. If you’ve decided not to, come and tell me that, too. Once everybody’s made their decision, everyone will go home.”

  “What if I want to go home now?” a guy demanded.

  “I can’t allow anyone to leave until everyone’s made their decision,” Rodrigo said. “I have to assume that as soon as the first person leaves, the police will be informed where we are. I will not blame anyone for not wanting what I offer, but I won’t allow anyone to make the decision for anyone else.”

  What would Dad say? I wondered. What would Mom say?

  I knew what Dad would say. He’d say that being a werevulture wasn’t nearly bad enough to be worth risking my life, and that I should just say no and walk away.

  As for Mom . . . I wasn’t sure about Mom. She’d gotten hysterical at the thought of taint, of course, but if she got over that, what would she say?

  Mom was the one who had taught me all about werehawk sight, and described how fun it would be to spend full moons together. Mom was the one who’d let us use her special shampoos to make bird feathers soft and pretty, even though they were expensive, and the three of us, being unturned kids, hadn’t needed them. Mom was the one who’d suggested I go buy a brand new wardrobe for my seventeenth birthday and then handed me a stack of money, even before I could plead for it.

  Mom had wanted me to be a werehawk almost as much as I’d wanted to be. And by being a vulture instead, I was missing out on everything.

  What would Kegan say? I thought.

  Well, I knew what Kegan would say. She’d say that being a werevulture was awesome because it was rare, and t hat that meant I was special. But she had strange tastes, and I didn’t always agree with them.

  The centaur collected all our phones to make sure we couldn’t call or text anybody. He also checked our call and text history to make sure nobody had used theirs in the past ten minutes. I was glad he hadn’t thought to check if any of us were wearing a wire, and I sweated as he checked my phone, afraid he would think of it.

  I took a slice of pizza and a soda, but I barely nibbled on the food and didn’t open the can. I didn’t try to talk to anyone. I was too lost in thought, too afraid of what would happen if I said yes. Too afraid I would regret it if I said no.

  At last, half an hour later, the first person went up to Rodrigo.

  “Turn me,” the poisonous tree guy said, looking determined but nervous. “I want to be the same subspecies as my dad. I want to be a proper part of their clan.”

  Rodrigo nodded and unzipped the backpack, which he had kept on his lap. He removed the stone and held it firmly.

  “Do not touch it without me,” he said. “But put your hands on it now, and envision the subspecies you want to be.”

  The poisonous tree guy nodded and reached out, his hand shaking. He jerked it back once, then twice, and then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. At last, he shoved it down and placed it on the pink stone.

  Everyone watched in silence. Then the guy whose name might have been Alex or might have been Jordan gasped and opened his eyes.

  “Try shifting again,” Rodrigo said quietly.

  The poisonous tree guy nodded, backed away, and shifted into a tree. His legs thickened into roots, his arms stretched into branches, and his head and torso became a trunk. He looked exactly the same as before.

  But when the guy shifted back, he had tears in his eyes. “Thank you,” he said, gripping Rodrigo’s hand that wasn’t on the pink turning stone. “Thank you. This is exactly what I’ve needed.”

  “You’re welcome,” Rodrigo said, gripping his hand back. “I’m glad I could help. People like you are exactly why I do this.”

  After that, more people flooded over. The wereechidna. The vampire girl. The pumpkin.

  “Are you going to go?” I asked the specter sitting near me.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not going to trust taint.”

  I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat. I didn’t think I was going to go, either. Not because of the taint, but because I didn’t think I could trust Rodrigo.

  He’d said there was no aswang clan in Los Abarimon, where he grew up. But I’d checked, and there were three.

  He’d said Loretta Vampireclanbaobhansith wouldn’t suck time from any of us. But she’d done it to the specter.

  He’d said he wouldn’t suggest that we do anything illegal. But that was exactly what he was doing right now.

  I didn’t believe in white lies. If people would lie about little things, they’d lie about big things, too.

  But I wished I could have trusted him. It would have been nice to take him up on it.

  Chapter 11: The Aftermath

  Decisions made, Rodrigo let us all have our phones, and the centaur moved out of the way of the front door to let us go.

  “I can’t believe I’m a jubokko,” the vampire pumpkin — or former pumpkin — said to the poisonous tree.

  “I know!” the kapre cried excitedly. “I’d lost all hope that I’d ever be able to be part of Dad’s clan for real!”

  A few of the teenagers who’d refused Rodrigo gave him a hostile glance as they snatched their phones back from the centaur, but Rodrigo seemed undisturbed by it.

  “If any of you change your minds,” he said, pulling a stack of cards out of his pocket and handing one to each of us, “call this number and let me know.”

  “But I didn’t refuse,” the former wereechidna protested as he handed her one.

  “You can also call if you know anyone else who’d like my help,” Rodrigo said kindly.

  The mothman ripped the card apart in Rodrigo’s face and threw it at him.

  The lorelei, who had refused, took the card thoughtfully.

  I said nothing as I took mine. There would probably be nothing useful in it for the police, but I’d give it to them anyway.

  “Is this the end of Rarity Clan?” an abatwa girl asked longingly. “I’ve really enjoyed it.”

  “It doesn’t have to be the end,” Rodrigo said. “Any of you are welcome to come back in future. But we’ll have to be more circumspect now. Because the law persecutes those who wish to use this ability, I can no longer act openly. Call that number if you wish to have another get-together in the future, and I’ll organize one.”

  The abatwa nodded, looking like she wanted to cry.

  Well, that’s a polite way of saying, “What I’m doing is openly illegal, but if you want to knowingly join my criminal organization, you can,” I thought. Anyone who came back to Rodrigo would be going back with full knowledge that he was a criminal.

  On the other hand . . . was it really that big a crime? I mean, if he could turn people a second time, that was a gigantic public service. Loads of people would want a second chance. He was using a dangerous tool to do it, so I couldn’t say the police were wrong to destroy tainted turning stones, but I couldn’t say for sure Rodrigo was wrong, either.

  I’d still tell the police about him, of course, but . . . would I have if I hadn’t already contacted them?

  I didn’t know.

  I followed the cluster of other teenagers out the front door. Most were already pulling out their phones, and the mothman was shouting into his. It sounded like he’d called the police.

  I glanced back at the house, but there was no sign of Rodrigo or Loretta or the centaur. Unsettled, I realized that that was probably baobhan sith time-bending again. The mothman could call the police all he wanted, but the culprits were long gone.

  I pushed my mom’s name on my phone and waited for the call to connect. A moment later, Collette’s voice answered.

  “Yeah? What?” she asked. “You forget something?”

  “No, the meeting’s done,” I said. “I’m ready to be picked up.”

  “The meeting’s done?” she said. “That didn’t take long.”

  “Of course it did, it —”

  I stopped, struck by an idea.

  I yanked the phone away from my ear and checked. M
y phone said it was 6:48.

  “It’s 6:48,” I said, relieved.

  “No, it isn’t!” Collette snapped. “It’s 4:15! We’re still on the way home!”

  My stomach muscles clenched. I yanked the phone away from my ear again and stared at the clock. But my clock says . . .

  Then I realized. The phone had been in the room with us. Of course it said the same amount of time that I’d felt.

  “Just come pick me up,” I said. “I’ll explain when you get here. We’re at 167 Birch Lane right now. It’s a few blocks away from the library.”

  “What are you doing there?” Collette asked.

  “Like I said, I’ll explain,” I said. “Just set the GPS.”

  “’Kay,” Collette said in a nonchalant tone. She sounded just a little bit too nonchalant, which meant she was probably trying not to sound like she’d been worried. “You all right? No pink turning stones or anything?”

  “I’m all right,” I said, dodging the second question.

  “Mom’ll be glad to hear that,” Collette said. “You want to talk to her?”

  “She’s driving,” I said. “I’ll talk to her when she’s here.”

  “Yes, she’s fine,” Collette said, her voice slightly muffled. “No, I don’t think they got tainted. Oh, come on, Mom, stop it! Lisette says she’s fine.” After a few seconds, Collette sighed, and her voice became loud again. “Mom says you’d say the same thing if you were tainted.”

  I stiffened, all ready to be offended, but then I remembered that taint made people lose their minds.

  “Well, I’m not,” I said.

  Collette was silent for a moment. Then she said, “Mom says you could be a hostage luring us into a trap.”

  And Mom thought I watched too much TV?

  “Look,” I said with exasperation, “if you don’t wanna come get me, can I at least hang up and call a taxi? I’ll use my emergency credit card to pay for it.”

  “Oh, we’re coming,” Collette said. “We’ve just passed the library.” She paused, and I heard murmuring in the background. “Mom says to say ‘potato’ if you’re not being held hostage and talking under duress.”

  “Potato,” I said, rolling my eyes.