Bag of Blood - Vampire Mystery Romance (2 page)

Chapter Three

Nuzzling her nose into the soft fabric of her pillowcase, Lena gave a sigh. She stretched her arms in front of her, examining them with a critical eye.
If you didn't know me, you'd think I was a drug-addict,
she mused unhappily. Track marks covered both elbow crooks, small bruises dotted here and there. The skin was fragile and constantly dry. Touching the newest mark with a finger, she winced.
Still sore.
She thought she'd be used to it by now.

Lena had joined the blood donor's club back in Junior High School, at her mother's persistence. A ‘bill’ had recently passed that all vampire students must be treated like normal students; that is, they could no longer be banned from attending public schools. The club was formed by the school's worried principal and nurse; flyers decorated the school.

Calling all students
,
male or female
:
if you weigh over 130 pounds and are generally in good health, you may be eligible to join the Blood Donor's club. Every two weeks, you will be required to donate one pint of blood for your two chosen vampires. This act of service will render you eligible to earn many prizes and scholarships. See the school nurse for details.

This concept fascinated Lena's mother, who had been worried about the family's general lack of money and Lena's poor grades. "This could be a real opportunity," her mother had intoned, brandishing the flyer. "You could go to college, make something of your life."

Of course, there were precautionary measures to protect the donating students; their blood was tested before every donation to guarantee healthy levels of iron. They had to take nightly blood replenishing pills (developed fairly recently by desperate scientists after vampire attacks increased) and their diets were strictly monitored: plenty of iron-rich foods, absolutely no caffeine, the whole-nine yards.

A tapping at her door caught her attention: looking up, Lena saw her older sister, Vanessa Thresh, smiling at her. Vanessa was beautiful in a way Lena could never be; though they shared the same basic features such as eye and hair color however Vanessa had transformed her look into something long, slinky, seductive. Lena, though tall for a girl her age at 5'7, always felt somewhat short and chubby with her sister by her side.

"I'm going to school," Vanessa informed her younger sister, who shrugged, wondering why Vanessa felt the need to announce this.

"Alright, have fun, then," Lena told her. Vanessa attended the local community college for its night courses; the day was spent at her job as a bagger at the supermarket, though more often than not a good chunk of it was spent making out with every male in town at the library.

"I made you dinner," Vanessa continued, looking embarrassed. This caught Lena by surprise.

"Really?"

"It's nothing special," her sister insisted. "Just tomato soup and a grilled-cheese sandwich. Don't make a big deal about it."

"Ok," Lena replied, still feeling a tiny bit shocked. "Well, thank you."

Vanessa's hazel eyes softened. "I heard what happened at school today,"

Oh, that explains the extra-niceness,
Lena realized. "Yeah; I don't know too much about what happened. Don't tell mom, okay?"

Vanessa snorted. "
Duh!
" Both girls were aware of their mother's current stress load. With their father's fast-approaching open heart surgery creating a strain, both financial and emotional, on the whole family, their mother was forced to work overtime at her job. Even the littlest drama, let alone a death, could be the straw that finally broke their mother's back.

Then, to Lena's absolute astonishment, Vanessa stepped into the room, skirting a dirty laundry pile as she did so, to wrap her arms tightly around her only sibling. "Be careful, ok?" she murmured into her sister's hair before stepping back, smiling as she left and leaving a trail of perfume in her wake. Vanessa heard the door open and shut before Vanessa's motorcycle rumbled down the street.
Would wonders never cease
?

Finally, Lena got up in search of her slightly-burned but still delicious dinner.
People are weird,
she thought happily, as she dunked the gooey sandwich into the steaming soup.

Flicking on the TV while chewing on a mouthful of bread, she flipped channels until she found the news. The attractive weather reporter gave a cheerful wink and a shiver.

"We are fast approaching some cold days in the wonderful city of Philadelphia!" the brown-eyed woman explained, tapping at the swirling images on the screen behind her. "Forty-nine degrees tomorrow, though it warms up a little in the afternoon. And you'd better bundle up once next week hits; we'll be dipping into the low thirties! Cloudy all week long, and next Friday promises quite a rain shower. Now back to you, Ed."

The screen changed to that of a somber looking man with gray hair. "Thank you, Nancy," he told the weather reporter. Lena munched her dinner as the man rambled about various city dramas, but stopped short when he mentioned her school.

"Chillhowie High School has suffered a severe tragedy with the death of sophomore student, Rebekah Knight. Rebekah was found dead on the school's basketball courts; experts say she had only been dead a very short time before her body was discovered. Police are still examining the scene, but it has already been declared a murder." A yearbook photograph of a very familiar face filled the screen, and Lena's blood ran cold.

Rebekah
. The girl who had been taunting Lena that very morning. Lena would have recognized her even if the reporter hadn't said the name; that fiery red hair and the nose tilting slightly up at the tip were dead giveaways. Mentally she calculated; it would have taken about ten minutes for the girl to go from the top of the stairs to the basketball courts, but it made sense; Lena knew the girl had dance class first period; she must have been heading to the locker rooms before she was murdered.

Murder! It was unthinkable. There one minute, dead the next; surely somebody would’ve seen something! But even as she thought this, she knew it wasn't true. Chillhowie was a
huge
high school, stretching across sixty acres of land, composed of thirteen buildings, most two-or even three-stories, as well as areas for nearly every sport imaginable, a greenhouse, a henhouse, stables, and a Land lab area where the sheep, fish, and pigs were kept. It was cold outside; most people would have headed for the warmth of the buildings, instead of loitering around outside. And it happened before class started; most of the four thousand students were too busy talking to their friends to head to classes. It was not only possible but
plausible
that the entire event had occurred unseen.

Lena may not have liked snooty Rebekah, but she certainly didn't want her dead, or
anyone
for that matter. The whole thought put her off her appetite. Decidedly edgy, she wrapped the remainder of her food up and slid it into the refrigerator, starting instead to clean up the dirty dishes that filled the sink. She flicked off the television once the reporter began covering a flood of some street downtown with a bursting water pipe, distinctly feeling chills running up and down her back. More than once she glanced over her shoulder, convinced she was being watched, though there was no window in her kitchen. For once, she wished she didn't have to spend her evenings alone.

Because there was one question that ran a never-ending loop in her mind, one that wouldn't let her racing heart rest:
who could have done this?

The phone rang entirely too early for Lena's taste; too early, and too
loud.
Grumbling incoherently, she rolled onto her side, tucking her knees to her chest so that she could pull the trapped pillow over her ears.

The phone continued to ring through its four-ring cycle, then switched to the answering machine: "Hi! You have reached the Thresh household! Please— " the caller hung up, and Lena felt herself begin to doze once more.

The piercing ringing began again. "
Oh, for hell's sake…
" spitting hair from her mouth and swiping away the drool on her chin, Lena marched angrily and blindly towards the phone, not even bothering to grab her glasses.

"What!" she barked angrily into the receiver once she had snatched it from its cradle.

"Whoa!" laughed a familiar voice. "Calm down, cranky!"

Lena sighed. "What do you want, Megan?"

"We're going out to breakfast. You need to be ready and standing outside your house in ten minutes, kay?" Without waiting for an answer, Megan hung up.

Grumbling incomprehensibly to herself, Lena once again eyed the comfortable couch she had been sleeping on. It had been a rough night; she had tossed and turned for the longest time, unable to sleep for worrying, jumping at every sound… Finally, she had given up and dragged herself in front of the TV for some late-night Discovery Channel, where she must've fallen asleep. Vanessa or mom must've turned the TV off, removed her glasses, and covered her with a blanket.

Entering her bedroom to dress herself, Lena saw a note sticking to the corner of her mirror.

Lena,
Vanessa told me that you're sick and not going to school today. Call my cell if you need me. Feel better, baby.

Love, mom.

Lena sighed, stepping into a pair of clean(ish)-smelling jeans from the pile on the floor.
Good old Ness,
saving her from having to come up with an excuse as to why she would not be attending school today, or for a while.

Finally ready, she obeyed Megan's instructions, standing outside, waiting. The paranoia from last night was seeping back in, and she stood with her back to the garage door, looking around. The wind blew through a dry bush, and the crackling made her jump.

She was rescued from the shrubbery by the arrival of the blue Chevy, which she gratefully slid into.

"Yeesh," was Megan's first comment. "You look—"

"Like death warmed over, I know," Lena replied. "Just drive, Robert."

It seemed Megan was the only cheerful one this morning, blathering on about school and breakfast, and last night's news.

"You saw it, right?" Megan demanded. "I mean,
Rebekah!
"

"Yeah, I saw it," replied Robert, sounding strained.

"Sucks, huh?" Megan sounded genuinely somber for a moment, before she once again began prattling about Howie's, the diner they often frequented for their delightful warm pancakes. As they pulled into the parking lot, Lena felt her mood lifting just slightly. Fresh, buttery pancakes slathered with warm syrup… the day was already looking up. Robert held the door open for the two of them before entering, himself.

And there stood Howie, in the flesh, smiling as he led them to their favorite booth in the back. He didn't even have to take their order; he knew it so well. Pancakes for all with a black coffee for Megan and bacon for both Robert and Lena.

Robert enviously eyed Megan as she sipped her coffee a little too innocently. "You don't have to act like it's the best damn thing in the world," he griped.

"Aww, sour grapes," she teased, slurping gleefully. "It's not
my
fault you two are in that damn club. I just didn't weigh enough for it."

The breakfast of champions was eaten in relative silence compared to the noisy drive over. As they planned out the rest of their day, Lena could feel her worry slipping off her like water from a duck's back. After all, what did she have to worry about? The day was lovely and crisp, and she had a full plate of golden pancakes to devour. The future looked bright.

Chapter Four

Through her bedroom window, Lena could see the large trees which filled the small park behind her house. Thick trunks were twisted in what could be described as a very Halloween-appropriate aura of spookiness. What leaves remained on the upturned branches were golden red, rattling dryly in the breeze. Ominous, perhaps, but also breathtakingly beautiful. If Lena an artist she would have loved to depict them somehow; in photograph or in painting, but it seemed her creative medium remained solely in sewing.

A rattling cough from her parent's bedroom caused her to startle.
Oh, dad…
Last night had been his first step in surgery preparation; after a day full of MRI scans, they had finally slit his left leg open at the thigh, and inserted a small camera up into his heart intravenously so that they could observe the functioning of the valves. The doctor's news did not bode well.

"He has a condition called IHSS, otherwise known as
Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy,
" the doctor had informed her mother. "A heart condition that seems to have affected him since childhood. The thickening of the blood before it reaches his heart could be fatal; surgery should be performed right away."

In addition to this news, what had always been attributed to a heart murmur was now diagnosed as something more drastic. One of his valves was leaking heavily, and it had to be replaced. They offered either the heart valve of a pig or a mechanical one, but her father had decided upon mechanical simply because a pig's heart valve would have to be replaced every five to ten years or so.

Because her father was still recovering from the heavy doses of drugs he had to endure the day before, Lena was tasked with watching over him, even though she was home "sick".

His coughing continued, and soon Lena could hear him gagging as well. Hustling from her bedroom to enter her parent's master bedroom, she saw her father leaning over the sink, gagging on phlegm lodged deep in his throat. Her heart sank. She and Vanessa were both trying to be strong for their parents at this difficult time, but the fear for her father's life was definitely there in her subconscious. The nightmares had been steadily increasing.

"Daddy?" she spoke quietly as she approached her shuddering father, gently resting a hand on his back. She wasn't sure what there was to say; she couldn't ask
if he was alright
; he so obviously wasn't. Any utterance of reassurance seemed forced. Finally, the large man turned to his daughter, fumbling for his glasses which rested on the counter beside the sink.

Handing them up to him, Lena rummaged through the sink's drawers, coming up with his toothbrush and a washcloth, which she rinsed with warm water and handed to him so that he could wipe off his face and brush his teeth free from whatever vile taste was plaguing his mouth.

He was not a very tall man, at only 5'9, but more than tipped the scales with his weight problem. Though his condition had nothing to do with his size, it did not help matters, either. He had the same thick, dirty-blonde hair both of his daughters possessed, the large lips and nearsightedness, and he had a cleft chin, but his eyes twinkled a soft gray while his daughters inherited their mother's darkly hazel gaze.

There was silence as he settled once again into his bed, and she turned the light off behind her as she left him to his privacy, feeling utterly helpless and incompetent. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall, but she squeezed her eyes closed, willing them away.

The doorbell rang, and she winced.
Hope that didn't wake him back up…
she fussed.

Opening the front door to her house, Lena stepped back in alarm when she realized that two police officers were standing on her doormat, with an imposing demeanor.

"Good afternoon, Lena Thresh," the shorter of the two officers spoke in a rumbling voice; Lena recognized him as the officer that had entered her sewing classroom only three days before to announce the evacuation of the school.

The taller of the officers said nothing, but his gaze lingered on Lena's chest far too long for her liking. Uncomfortably crossing her arms over the blue fabric of her sweater, she spoke to the one she recognized.

"Hello, can I help you?" she tried to keep the quaver out of her tone, but knew she failed once tall-yet-creepy officer raised an eyebrow.

"May we come in?" he asked. Lena glanced behind her; her living room was cluttered with newspapers and towels waiting to be folded and put away, and was that a cereal bowl sitting by the lamp?
Darn it, Vanessa…

"Sure!" attempting to remain cheerful, Lena waved the officers into her house. Subtly picking up the cereal bowl, intending to dump it in the sink, she attempted to play Good Hostess.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she wracked her brain, trying to remember the contents of the refrigerator. "We have water, and uh… juice, I think. Milk…" no. Definitely not milk. It had expired last week, if she recalled correctly. She frowned at the funny-looking liquid swimming in Vanessa's bowl.

"Water would be fine, for both of us, thank you," the shorter officer said with an attempt at a smile. As she began to leave the room and the two settled on the sofa. "Bring in a parent, will you?"

This stopped Lena short. Rouse her sleeping father out of bed for what looked like a police interview?

"I'm afraid that's not possible," she told the officers after turning around to look at them. They didn't seem very happy about this fact, but since they had not called ahead or attempted to schedule this visit, she figured that they could, as Megan would have phrased it, "suck it".

When she returned with the bottled water and the three of them were properly settled down on opposing sofas, facing each other, Tall Cop pulled out a notebook.

"Before we begin, and although I'm certain that you will get a phone call about this sometime today, school will be starting once more, at its regular time, tomorrow. The scene's been completely checked over for clues, and we can never keep a school closed for very long."

To her surprise, Lena felt a small amount of relief at this. It would be good to get back to school; maybe life would get back to normal that way.

"Lena Thresh, we are officers Rod and Meyer, and we would like to interview you regarding the death of Rebekah Knight."

Lena felt her throat grow slightly dry and took a refreshing drink of water to stabilize herself.

"We'll start off with some questions about you, first. Name?"

This was feeling pointless already; obviously they
knew
her.

"Lena Diane Thresh."

"Age?"

"Sixteen."

"Grade?"

"Eleventh." Yes, this was certainly becoming tedious. The officers may have sensed her unease, because they asked only one more trifling question before moving on to the actual interview. She saw Officer Meyer slip a small device from his pocket.

"Is it all right if we record this, Lena?" he asked, not waiting for her answer before tapping a button. A green light appeared on the round recording object.

"Yes." She agreed, hoping compliance would move this along faster.

"Who do you live here with?"

"My mother Julianne, my father Thomas, and my sister Vanessa," she told him, feeling compelled to add, "We don't have pets. Ness had a cat but it was hit by a car last year…"
and now I'm rambling. Great.
She was growing quite annoyed with herself.

"Lena Thresh, we have heard that you were with Rebekah Knight mere minutes before her death. Please explain, in your own words, what occurred during the morning of October eighteenth, 2014."

Taking a deep breath and trying to compose her thoughts, Lena began. "I was delivering my blood to Gabriel Metcalf."

At the officer's raised eyebrow, she hastened to explain. "I'm a blood donor. I donate my blood twice a month and take it to Gabriel Metcalf and Elliot Franz. They're… I guess you could say that they're my vampires."

"I'm aware of how the blood program at your school works; no need to explain," officer Rod interrupted. "Please, carry on."

"Well, Gabriel was being an as- I mean, he was being
rude
, as usual; he and his groupies, Hannah Miller and Rebekah Knight, were not at our original meeting spot. I had to go looking for him." At this, Lena flushed. She was aware that her enmity with the trio did not paint her in very good light at the moment. However, though she had no qualms about lying, it didn't seem in her best interests to lie to law enforcers.

"Rebekah must have gotten bored watching me search for Gabriel, so she finally shouted for me."

At this, officer Rod raised a hand to stop her. "Where were you looking for him?"

"Well, we had agreed to meet in front of the elective buildings, but I've known from past experience that he prefers to pester me by staying upstairs in the main building, instead. He was on the second floor behind one of the three great pillars that support the roof, with Hannah Miller and Rebekah Knight beside him."

"And you described these two girls as 'groupies'," Officer Meyer spoke up. "Please explain."

"Well, they're…" Lena struggled for words. "People like them
like
vampires. They think it's sexy… It's as if they like vampires
because
they're vampires, not because of their personalities or anything. And they'd latched onto Gabriel in particular, probably because…" here she trailed off, feeling her cheeks flush.

"Because?" prompted Meyer.

"Because he fits the bill of being a vampire to a tee. He looks like Dracula's nephew or something. Anyway, they're just in it because they think he's hot. And he likes it," she added, somewhat bitterly.

"So anyway," Lena began again, "Rebekah shouted at me."

"What did she say?" inquired Officer Meyer.

"She screamed 'Blood Whore! Over here!' Lena's blush turned into an angry flush. "The whole school probably heard her."

"Blood Whore?" asked Rod, bemused.

"Yeah. Their special little name for donors. See, they think we're like hookers, selling away parts of our bodies for scholarships. Honestly, they just want the vampires to themselves but are too scared to go under the needle for them. Guess they need to lash out somehow."

Meyer crooked an eyebrow. "You two weren't on the best of terms, I take it?"

Lena glared, not wanting to dignify his taunting remark with a response, instead, she continued her story.

"I was mad at all of them, and embarrassed, so I dropped my blood on his foot and walked away to go give my blood to Elliot. Hannah called me a bitch, but I just kept walking. And that's the last I've ever seen of Rebekah Knight."

There was silence for a moment as both officers looked at her. Lena began to squirm, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. Finally, she spoke.

"What? That really
is
it." She looked both of them in the eye, wanting them to realize that she was serious. Officer Rod's blue eyes continued to bore into hers a moment longer.

"Some would consider your relationship with Rebekah to be confrontational. She embarrassed you and I'm guessing that that wasn't the first time. Clearly there was no love lost between the two of you."

Lena saw what he was driving at and opened her mouth, a little stunned.

"I never touched her!" she finally insisted, once she had regained her ability of speech. "Take my fingerprints! Take my DNA! Do whatever you want and you'll see I've never hurt anybody."

More of the terrible silence followed her remarks, but it was Officer Meyer who finally took pity on the sweating Lena.

"That's not necessary. You would not have been capable of committing this murder."

Confusion caused Lena's brows to furrow. "What?"

"Someone well over six feet tall attacked Rebekah, and according to the autopsy reports, it would have taken a massive burst of strength to crush her windpipe the way it was completely crushed."

Picturing what he was saying, Lena felt a little sick.
Her windpipe was crushed all the way through? God…

"Not to mention, the bruises found around her wrists and neck were much larger than your hands could’ve been capable of leavin. One of the killer's hands would have nearly been able to wrap itself completely around her throat; your hands are way too small."

Looking down at her fingers, Lena felt a heady mixture of relief and queasiness. She steadily tried to banish the images of Rebekah from her mind,
gripped at neck and wrists by some menacing stranger
… however her breakfast continued to churn uncomfortably in her stomach.

"Who could’ve been responsible?" she found herself musing out loud. For a moment, Officer Meyer's face changed into something more human, less professional; a man worried over the death of a teenage girl.

"I don't know. But with that kind of strength, it wouldn't be anybody normal."

"What do you mean?" Lena was taken aback.
Of course whoever it was wasn't normal; they were a killer!

"What we
mean
," Officer Rod said, hefting himself to his feet and crushing his empty water bottle in his hand and holding her front door open for his partner before stepping outside himself, "is that the killer is a vampire."

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