Great. Now I’m going to spend the rest of April worrying about Sophia going nuts. The mortal mystics of the Aurora Aurea didn’t seem too crazy. Little offbeat, but not nuts. At least not the ‘nuts’ the way Aurélie described vampire mystics. Or ‘mystic’ rather. She only knew of one. Maybe I shouldn’t assume they’re all bonkers because of one dude who acted like Merlin on lab-grade LSD.
Sophia runs inside as soon as we get home.
This is one of those annoying moments where I have too much time before class to leave for school right away, but not enough time to really do anything. It’s about quarter after six, and today’s English lit from seven to ten. Once-a-week classes are a slog. According to my phone, sunset is going to happen at 7:57 p.m. Grr. Means I have to drive in. Can’t even say ‘first world problems’ complaining about having to drive instead of fly.
Screw it. Can’t do much with like twelve minutes. Might as well go to class now. I run inside to grab my books and hug the family, then head back to the car.
Oh, drat. Need gas. Maybe those twelve minutes will come in handy.
With sufficient motivation, people can do a lot in fifteen minutes.
One thing I can accomplish in fifteen minutes—during a class break—is head to an adjacent building and grab a quick snack. The second break happens after dark. If I can find someone to bite here, it’ll give me more time for homework after class lets out. People don’t tend to sit outside alone once it’s dark, which forces me to be a little creative. Really hate following people into the bathroom, so I avoid it whenever possible. Rather take twenty minutes out of my night after class than develop a mental association between toilets and eating. Trust me, public bathrooms are ten times worse when you’ve got a vampiric sense of smell.
Luck is with me tonight. I catch a dude sprinting down a hallway, likely late for a class. Sorry, man… need a few minutes of your time. He stops short as I basically crash into him while pretending to be lost and ask where Room 401 is. Before he can process the question, I’m in his head and encouraging him to follow me into a dark space between vending machines in the nearest lounge room. His blood hits me over the head like a giant meatball Hot Pocket. No time to ponder what about this guy made me conjure the flavor. He’s in a rush, and I have a time limit. Maybe the flavor of Hot Pockets came from being in a hurry?
When I’m done feeding, I buy him a candy bar from one of the machines and send him on his way, giving him the urge to munch on it. Still dunno why blood donation places always give out orange juice and cookies, but there’s gotta be something to it.
The instant I step out of the other building, a weird sense of ominous dread falls over me. My English class is half a block away from here. Even though the world doesn’t appear dark to me, looking at the mostly deserted street fills me with the same sort of dread mortal me would have felt about walking anywhere alone at night in the city.
I hate it. I really hate feeling scared and vulnerable. It pissed me off as a mortal, but couldn’t do much about it other than travel in packs, take karate, or carry a gun—the second two options never ended up happening. This present fear has no basis in reality. Which means one of two things is happening… either something supernatural is bearing down on me, or something supernatural is forcibly changing my emotional state. Okay, option three: I’m still sleeping and this is a dream.
No, not the vampire thing. Going to class now. But, can’t be. Class had too much detail.
I slow my stride to spite the fear and look around. The mood changes to one of ambient hostility. An urge to turn the other way draws my attention to a pale woman in a dark blue top and shiny black leggings lurking at the corner of the building. She’s part runway model, part porcelain-skinned psychopath. As soon as we make eye contact, I recognize her: Petra Stanovaya.
This bitch is the exact opposite of Eleanor St. Ives. Petra will carry a grudge. She’ll rent a 700-square foot storage space for her grudge and never be late on a rent payment. We did try to kill each other. The only thing keeping her off me is a threat from Glim—and the Shadows—to shred her if she bothers me. Our truce didn’t explicitly forbid menacing glares from fifty yards away, though.
Still, it’s unusual to see her sapphire-eyed rage coming out of nowhere.
Shit. Now what? Something happened.
Screw it. Hopefully, she doesn’t realize the strength and speed I had when we last tore each other apart came from Dante, a local Lost One who loaned me a bit of his fury. Vampires can give each other temporary use of some powers unique to certain bloodlines. Furies can give greater strength. Academics can let people borrow whatever weird powers they have, like turning in to wolves or whatever. Aurélie could loan me charm powers from hell if she ever wanted to. Me? I let Glim drink beer sometimes. I can share the ability to tolerate food. That’s me. Total badass.
Not complaining. Honest. Just poking fun at myself.
Petra has to have figured out by now I’m an Innocent, thus zero threat. Then again, this is a woman who considers the gradual ruination of someone’s life to be art. She wouldn’t hesitate tormenting anyone because they’re weak or (comparatively) helpless. It’s not a contest of strength for her at all. She adores the emotional destruction that comes along with destroying someone’s entire world.
In short, she’s a sick bitch.
She’s also proof people can’t judge anything by appearances. Petra looks like a French runway model or a Hollywood actress. Early twenties, sleek. Black hair and piercing dark blue eyes. She appears pretty and harmless. If the Universe had any sense of justice, she’d be so hideous, Shadows would say daaaaaamn.
Don’t have time for her BS now. But… I’m not turning my back on her. Only one thing to do here. I march over to her. Her reaction is to fold her arms and smirk at me. Yeah, she’s totally vibing like the popular cheerleader about to get all snooty and condescending at the nerd she’s bullying. Only, I’m a stealth nerd. Never got picked on in school because I didn’t ‘look’ like a nerd. Dad says we’re more geeks than nerds. Nerds go to college at age fourteen and save poor countries from drought by age sixteen.
“Petra.” I nod an insincere greeting. “Don’t really have time for anything at the moment. Need to get back to class. Are you looking for me or is this a Marcellus Wallace moment?”
She blinks, evidently caught off guard. “What? Who’s Wallace?”
“Never saw Pulp Fiction?” I raise an eyebrow. “Dude sitting in a car, just happens to see the guy he wants to kill walking in front of him by chance?”
“Oh. No. I am not here by chance.” She unfolds her arms, tea-kettling her left hand on her hip, other one pointing at me. “I’m here for you.”
Sigh. “What for? We have no further business.”
“Playing dumb? At least stick to what you’re good at.”
“Seriously. I have no idea why you would possibly be looking for me.”
She narrows her eyes. A little tingle at the front of my brain says she’s trying to read my mind but can’t get in. The gap in our age isn’t quite big enough, but it’s close. Hah. Perfect. She will never be able to read my mind. Might come in handy someday, but at the moment, I truly am baffled. “The attack?”
I hold my hands up. “The last thing I’d ever think of doing is starting a fight with a vampire turned in 1920. If someone attacked you, I had nothing to do with it.”
She jabs her finger into my chest. “Don’t play me for a fool. I know you’ve joined Wolent’s little social club. Since you’re one of ‘his people,’ he sent some palookas to my home.”
“Umm. He never said anything about it to me. How am I responsible for what he does? Even if it was him, which I doubt, I never asked anyone to act against you.”
Petra folds her arms again.
I fold my arms as well. There. Take that. “Yeah, I object to you keeping guys as pets and trashing innocent people’s lives, but we came to an agreement to pretend each other doesn’t exist. I don’t want the headache it would
cause to start messing with you.”
“You expect me to believe this?”
“Yes, assuming you care about actual truth and aren’t just imagining an attack as an excuse to come after me for revenge.” I thrust my arms out to either side. “Ask any Shadow. They’ll know.”
“Oh, of course. They’re on your side and will say whatever you want them to.”
I facepalm. “Ugh. Really? Are you serious? You’re over a hundred years old and don’t understand? I’ve figured it out already and I’m two months short of a full year as a”—I drop my voice to a whisper—“vampire.”
“What are you rattling on about?”
“Shadows. They aren’t on my side. Glim is on my side. One Shadow is my friend. He made an arrangement. If I broke it by attacking you, all the other Shadows in Seattle would be pissed at me and hold him responsible for me breaking the agreement. He’d get in a crapload of trouble, and I can’t do that to him even if I was stupid enough to pick another fight with you. Seriously. I did not do anything.”
She stares at me.
“What happened, anyway?”
“As if you don’t know.”
Sigh. “Whatever. I’m going to be late for class. If you want to keep brooding at me, I should be done by ten. Can we pick this up later?”
“Four vampires showed up at my house several nights ago. They broke in and caused a significant amount of damage, left several threatening notes warning me it would become worse if I didn’t leave you alone.”
Say what? I gawk. “Uhh, seriously, Petra. I had nothing at all to do with it. Unless you’ve been up to something I haven’t noticed yet, you have been leaving me alone. Why would I risk setting off a crapstorm? You know the situation with my family. It makes zero sense whatsoever for me to antagonize you, or ask someone to antagonize you on my behalf. Not only does it put my family at risk, it would get the Shadows pissed at me, probably infuriate Wolent, too… and Aurélie would lose her mind.”
Petra cringes ever so slightly at the mention of her name. Heh. Aurélie is another case of appearances being deceitful. She looks delicate, harmless, and innocent. While she is nice, she’s not harmless… and she is certainly not innocent—in any sense of the word.
Jealousy seethes behind Petra’s deep blue irises. She glares at me the way the schoolyard bully looks at their victim when the teacher’s standing right next to them and they can’t do anything. She totally hates me having Aurélie’s protection. “You are wrong about one thing there, girl. Wolent wouldn’t object. You forget how much contempt he has for those outside his circle.”
Oh, right. She’s a Sybarite, not literally a Lost One, but she acts like them, stays outside the political scene, considering herself above it. Honestly, someone as warped as her wouldn’t be welcome among the other vampires.
“Look…” I raise a ‘hang on a sec’ hand at her. “I understand you’re angry and jumping to conclusions, but anyone could have done it and left messages to set off a problem. Any of them would be concerned about someone who causes destruction and risks attracting attention to our existence.”
She scoffs. “I am hardly a brute leaving a trail of corpses in alleys.”
“No. You’re not. You are highly intelligent and methodical in what you do. But… sooner or later, someone might start wondering why so many people in a particular area commit suicide.”
“My dear, Seattle’s got a reputation for that already.” She examines her fingernails as if to imply it’s her doing.
“Pointing the finger at me is a weird twist, but maybe it’s someone who wants me dead and they’re trying to use you to do it.”
She keeps tapping her foot.
Argh. Time running out. “I really have to get back. If I kicked in someone’s door and wrote your name on the wall, would it prove you sent me? Stop and think. Someone who knows about both of us is trying to stir some crap, but it isn’t me.”
She fixes me with a stare. “You… are either quite skilled at lying or telling the truth.”
“I’m a horrible liar.”
“Firebombs through my windows. Only minor damage… this time.”
I exhale. “Someone’s messing with me, too. Maybe those LA vampires. Only people I can really think of who’d want to send you after me like a guided missile. Look, if you won’t rip my head off for making contact, I’ll let you know if I find out who attacked you and why.”
Petra looks me up and down. She doesn’t seem thrilled, but nods once. “All right.”
As soon as she starts walking away, I hurry in the other direction. Hopefully, no one notices me zoom by way faster than people can run. For a moment, the only thought on my mind is getting back to class before I’m late. Alas, I am late, but only by like thirty seconds. Professor Kendall hasn’t even resumed teaching yet. Four other students arrive after me, so whew. I’m not the one who’ll stand out in his mind as being late.
After melting into my seat, it occurs to me I’ve made a deal with the devil. Or at least with his little sister. Well, maybe not a deal. Any conversation with Petra Stanovaya that doesn’t end in blood flying everywhere feels like I’ve compromised my morals. Ugh. I am way too nice. How can I be civil with such an evil person?
Oh, right. I don’t want my family to end up slaughtered. Also, if I initiate crap with her, it puts Glim on the outs with other Shadows. Not sure exactly how their internal politics works. Maybe they’d only give him a big, creepy frown. Regardless, he’s a friend who’s gone out of his way for me multiple times. If not for him, Petra would have destroyed me. No way am I going to be reckless and ruin his standing with his ‘people.’
Don’t even want to think about what sort of vampiric shitstorm would roll over Seattle if I started a fight. Maybe not so bad considering Petra’s outside ‘polite society.’ Most of the vamps who attend the soirees don’t have high regard for Lost Ones. Some even call the ones who reject ordered society ‘anarchists’ because they’re not all from one bloodline. There are even a handful of legit Lost Ones who go to the meetings. As long as any fighting doesn’t draw the attention of mortals to vampires, the elders probably wouldn’t care at all if someone got into a fight with the anarchists. However, they don’t consider me a ‘baby’ anymore, Stefano and Paolo aside. Baby in the sense of how kids can do stupid stuff and get away with it for not knowing any better. I’m ‘official’ enough now to be held responsible for whatever I do.
It’s kind of like being in the Mafia—or at least my impression of them from watching movies. My actions reflect on Wolent. Even if he had nothing to do with my screw up, he’d be blamed for ‘not being able to control me’ if I stepped out of line. If someone is out there trying to make it look like I’m ‘shit-stirring,’ things are going to get ugly.
Grr.
Paying attention in English lit is difficult enough during a three-hour class when I’m not worrying about who is trying to set me up. Obviously, my first thought is Stefano. He thinks I’m a disrespectful brat for no reason other than I decided to stay with my mortal family and bring them in on the secret of vampires. Kinda hard to live there and not share such an important detail. It would make it really hard to explain why I needed to move my bedroom into the basement and someone would accidentally give me a face full of sunlight. Makes no sense to me why he’s got such a bug up his butt about it.
Then again, some people are mortally offended at the mere existence of LGBTQ people. No, I’m not claiming to be anywhere near as vulnerable or oppressed as them. Just saying how random and stupid it is for Stefano to have such a problem with me when my existence has absolutely zero impact on his unlife. It’s like having a meltdown someone ahead of him in line at Subway ordered a turkey sub because he doesn’t like turkey.
Question is, is he so fanatic about his idiocy he’d try to trick Petra into killing me? Whoever did it knows enough about me to understand the issue I had with her months ago. They’d have to also understand she isn’t really the ‘hands on, claws out’ type of
vampire. She’d destroy my family—and everything I love or even like—slowly over months, driving me to the point of self-destruction. While I doubt Stefano or Paolo would shed any tears if I decided to fling myself into the sun, it’s a little too cruel and involved for them to use Petra as a weapon. As traditionalists, they certainly wouldn’t lose any sleep over Petra being destroyed since she is outside ‘society.’
Maybe I’m thinking about this wrong. What if it isn’t me someone’s trying to get rid of? If Petra lashed out at me, both the Shadows and Aurélie would be after her blood. Neither Stefano nor Paolo would bat an eyelash at sacrificing me to destroy a more important vampire they didn’t like. They might be doing this to set her up to be potentially destroyed by Aurélie. However, back to her being outside society. Unless she is attracting the attention of vampire hunters, they’d have no reason to care about her enough to do this.
Argh! So frustrating. Deep breaths. Okay, Sarah. Find Zen. Put this issue aside for now. Pay attention in class and stop wasting Mom and Dad’s money.
Learn now, vampire political BS later.
4
Dare
I mentally give a middle finger to the Universe.
Not only is some strange vampire political crap going on that’s probably going to end with blood on the ground, Professor Kendall hits me with another writing assignment. At least this one isn’t a presentation in front of the class. Gotta do a research paper on the contributions of a major author or poet of the nineteenth or twentieth century. We can choose the person to write about under two conditions: they have to be dead now and also a big deal.
Might as well do Poe… or Mary Shelley. Half the class is probably going to do Shakespeare. Writing about him has to be the English lit version of playing Stairway to Heaven in a guitar shop. Professor Kendall must be sick to death of reading about William Shakespeare. He’s probably also kinda worn out on Poe, too, but whatever. He said the writer has to be a big deal. Obviously, most students are going to go for big names. Mary Shelley basically invented science fiction. Can’t do Jane Austen, too old. Tolkien? Maybe. Ray Bradbury? Hmm. My junior year teacher in high school English had a serious hardon for Ray Bradbury. We spent a whole month dissecting Fahrenheit 451. Good book, but after putting it under a microscope so much, I’m sick to death of it.
Vampire Innocent | Book 11 | How To Stop A Vampire War In Six Easy Steps Page 4
