Star, Starland Vamp Series, Book 1 (8 page)

Then I chimed in and gave a very stunning, insightful report. Actually, I was present at the Second Continental Congress, appearing as a man, of course. I wanted to ensure that after all the fighting, our losses and gains were not in vain.

Afterward, everyone in the room sat in stunned silence.

Ooops! I was probably a bit too thorough.

Suddenly, the bell rang, saving the day. Immediately, we all worked together to push the desks back into place. But I couldn’t help but steal glances at Zac now and again, admiring his broad shoulders falling to sexy hips, and beautiful azure eyes. I couldn’t believe this boy was having this effect on me. No one had ever affected me this way in my whole very long life.

“Hey,” a voice said as a hand gingerly touched my arm, breaking my reverie. It was Zac, smiling sweetly. “Can I walk you to class?” Wow! And here I thought chivalry was dead. I hadn’t met a man so considerate in years.

“Sure,” I said, smiling serenely, gathering my things and throwing them into my back pack. “What class do you have next?”

Zac slung his back pack over his shoulder. “Honors history.”

“I do, too!” I replied, feigning surprise. As soon as he said
honors,
I knew we had the same class together. I looked forward to walking with him. It would be a great opportunity to find out more information, or at least, that’s what I told myself. But in reality, I was clearly enjoying his company. Perhaps a bit too much.

And as we walked to class, I listened to him talk and knew it was becoming much more complicated than I originally thought.

“Zac, what do your parents do?” I asked, casually making conversation as we walked to class. Secretly, I really needed to know what he knew about his father.

“Well, my mother is an interior designer here in town, and my father is an architect in Washington D.C.,” Zac said, the faraway look returning.

So, he knew nothing. Dr. Abbott probably wanted to keep his son in the dark as much as possible. I guess Abbott thought that what his son didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Fat chance.

We talked animatedly as we walked to class. Zac was very easy to talk to. Then my thoughts traveled to what he said when he came late to class. I forced myself from his mesmerizing eyes to focus on my mission.

“What did you say when you came into class late this morning?” I asked Zac innocently as we walked. “About some guy cutting you off in the parking lot?” It bothered me ever since he said it. I wondered if there was more to it than that.

“Yeah,” Zac said, anger returning to his eyes. “The guy just came out of nowhere and cut right in front of my car, blocking me off. Then he sat there and stared at me. He finally drove off, but kept staring at me as he passed. Weird.”

I nodded, as my eyebrows pulled together. I should have known. Why didn’t I catch it before? This kid was already messing with my judgment. Focus, I told myself. “Did you recognize this guy?”

“No,” Zac said, shaking his head. “Never saw him before in my life. Come to think of it, he looked too old to be a student.”

He probably was. And if they were this close to finding Zac, then all hell would soon be breaking loose in this perfect little town when they found him. Quite literally. I had to find this guy. I’m sure he was still here somewhere on campus, looking for Zac.

“Zac,” I said, stopping to face him in the hall. “Why don’t you go to class and I’ll catch up.”

“Okay,” Zac said, clearly disappointed. This touched me. “Well, it was nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” I said with a smile, shifting my back pack. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“I’ll save you a seat,” Zac replied, his smile returning, and before I could say anything more, he darted down the hall toward his next class.

In the hallway, some students were scurrying to class, afraid of being late, while a few girls walked nonchalantly to class, gossiping loudly with their peers. I walked casually down the hall toward the front doors and looked around the lobby, making sure no teachers saw me walking out during school hours.

I stashed my back pack in the bushes in front of the school, and casually walked around the school parking lot, searching for anything out of the ordinary. And, like a neon sign, there was an old Monte Carlo, a boat actually, parked on the curb. It looked like it had seen better days. What a moron! At least he could have made an attempt to be less conspicuous. But the car was red tagged, and if it wasn’t moved soon, it would be towed.

Whoever it was didn’t plan on staying long.

I looked around and no one was watching, so I changed myself into a security guard for good measure, quivering and morphing until I looked convincing. I appeared to be in my forties, male, with a big gut, dressed in a blue security outfit with dark sun glasses, and a 9 mm handgun strapped on my belt. I got the body print from a security guard last year at a Rise Against concert. He made the mistake of grabbing me by the arm when I didn’t move fast enough to suit him. He thought I was a druggie, but I never touch the stuff.

He won’t be making that mistake again.

In the parking lot, I looked around outside and there was no one. Looking at the license plates of the car, I noticed they were New York City plates. Strange. Around here, no one would have New York City plates, especially not a local student or teacher. And the chances of it belonging to a visiting parent were slim.

Then Zac suddenly came to mind. If Zac came in contact with this moron, he’d be dead in a second. Unreasonable panic filled my chest. Still looking like the middle-aged security guard, I walked toward the school a bit fast for human speed.

My hand was almost on the front door when someone yelled across the parking lot. “Hey! You there! What’s going on?” The voice came from a very plump man of about sixty with solid grey hair and a name tag reading simply
Bud White—security
.
“Who the hell are you?” Well, it looked like I wasn’t going to make another friend now.

“I’m Sam,” I responded in a deep baritone voice. When I copy someone’s appearance, their voice comes with it, too.

“Did the agency send you?” The man looked exasperated. Without waiting for an answer, he continued loudly, “I told that blasted agency that I wanted to hire my own men
!”

“I’m just a temp …” I tried to interject, but he quickly cut me off.
             

“What? Joe called in again?” the man yelled profusely, the veins in his head bulging. Good thing I just ate. “Wait ‘til I see him!” he continued to yell. 

This guy was going to give himself a heart attack. Time to intervene. Taking off my dark sunglasses, he was still ranting when I looked him directly in the eye, smiling.

“And what the hell are you smiling about? Well, I ought to report …” the man’s voice immediately cut off when my glowing emerald eyes flared.

“You never saw me. You won’t remember meeting me here,” I said, implanting the suggestion within his mind. “Joe is behaving as he should.  By the way, calm down before you give yourself a heart attack.”

The older man shook his head slightly, then his whole demeanor changed. Smiling as if nothing had taken place, “Great!
You have a nice day now
!”

I looked at him over my sunglasses, “You okay, Bud?”

“Couldn’t be better!
” Bud replied, grinning from ear to ear. “Haven’t felt this good in years
! Think I might take out the Mrs. for dinner tonight after work!” He walked off whistling a happy tune as if he’d just stepped out of a Disney movie.

I really should watch pushing the minds of the elderly. I’m sure the effect would wear off, but, then again, he might spend the rest of his life happy as a lark. Well, at least the Mrs. will be happy.

Alone, my body quivered, changing as my features distorted, then morphed until I was an exact replica of Mr. Hartrell. I should probably not be a student walking the halls between bells. They would think I was skipping class. I picked up my stashed back pack, walked into the school, and threw it in a vacant nearby locker. I’d go back for it later. That is, if it was still there. If not, I could track it down easily.

I walked down the hallway looking into classrooms as I passed, looking for the moron with the car. I smiled as a petite heavy-set teacher about 4 feet tall passed, her heels echoing loudly down the now vacant hall. Thinking I was Mr. Hartrell, she smiled nervously, then hurried on. So the animosity wasn’t only reserved for the students.

I knew I had to find the moron with the car before he found Zac, given he
was
a moron. But he had to be. A smart vamp would come for Zac in the night, killing him while he slept, not hunting him down in broad daylight at a school filled with innocent by-standers. Yes, it had to be one of The Others. And if that was the case, I had to find Zac now. One of The Others would kill a whole classroom full of students and wouldn’t blink an eye just to get to him. I cringed at the thought.

At vamp speed, I checked the hallways, looking in the windows of classrooms, broom closets, virtually everywhere.

“Ms. Sutherland,” a familiar voice came from around the corner. “Please notify the teachers of a staff meeting on Tuesday …”

Damn. Mr. Hartrell was right around the corner. Within a second, my body quivered, shaking until it morphed into the old man from the convenience store. There was a janitor’s cart parked in the corner, complete with a cap and broom. The janitor must be taking a coffee break. I’ll be doing him a favor. At vamp speed, I grabbed the broom, and began pushing it down the hall, then donned the white cap, pulling it down over my eyes. I held my head down as Mr. Hartrell strolled quickly past, with Ms. Sutherland on his heels carrying a stenographer’s notebook, her short legs trying desperately to keep up.

He paid no attention.

After he passed, my body shimmered until I looked like Mr. Hartrell again. I walked through the cafeteria, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Just a few cafeteria ladies wearing uniforms and hairnets preparing for the lunch crowd. I darted quickly down another hallway when I found him. He was definitely a vamp, appearing to be in his early twenties, with a scruffy beard and light brown curly hair that looked like it hadn’t been brushed for a week. He wore a tan army jacket and dirty blue jeans, heavily stained, peering through the window of a classroom door.  He was watching something, or someone, when he caught my scent. Immediately, he turned and snarled, running toward me, his hands curled into claws, growling as he ran.

Still looking like Mr. Hartrell, I grabbed him by the throat, stopping him in his tracks, and lifted him three feet off the ground. As Mr. Hartrell, I was a good foot taller than this creep. Sometimes height had its advantages.

“Going somewhere, young man?” I asked, sounding like Hartrell.

The vamp’s eyes practically bulged out of his head. “I … uh … um …”

“Come with me! You’re not supposed to be here,” I said, pushing him into the nearest men’s restroom. His eyes grew wide when I locked the door.

“Who the hell are you, man?” the moron asked, holding up his hands, backing toward the only window, frosted, and tightly latched.

I grinned menacingly. I was going to enjoy this. “A better question is: who are you? Besides being a young vamp?”

“How did you know that?” the vamp was astonished, and it was clear that whoever had turned him had given him no training whatsoever.

“Oh, I know a lot of things,” I said menacingly, edging closer. The vamp was now visibly shaking. “For instance, you come from the city.”

“Man, who are you?” His voice trembled as he stumbled backward.

“That’s not important,” I calmly replied, stopping just in front of him. “Now,” I began, speaking very slowly. “I’m going to ask you some questions and you will answer them.”

“The hell I will
!
” Within a flash, he reached for my throat, baring his teeth, lunging toward me. But within a second, I had him pinned against the wall by the throat, his feet dangling a foot off the ground.

“Oh, yes, you will,” I threatened, my lips curling at the edges, as my green eyes flared. “Tell you what, if you tell me what I want to know,” then I leaned in and whispered for effect, “I’ll let you live.”

"Yeah right, dumbass,” he spat, baring his teeth, his feet still dangling. Vamps didn’t need air to breathe, so he wasn’t choking.

laughed, “
I’m
the dumbass? Who’s the one pinned to the wall with his feet dangling?” I laughed again. He curled his hands like claws, swinging frantically, trying to make contact. When animals are cornered, they always want to fight. “Now, let’s begin again. Who sent you?”

“Go to hell
!” he yelled still clawing the air.

“You first,” I snarled, slamming his head against the wall so hard it cracked the beige tile, sending specks of grout and dust to the floor. He cringed, but was otherwise unphased. I laughed. “You got balls, I’ll give you that.”

“I got more than you,” he growled, struggling futilely.

I grinned. If he only knew. “Now, I’m only going to ask you one more time,” I said, grabbing his balls through his jeans to emphasize my point. I squeezed until his eyes bulged and he was mumbling incoherently, sweat seeping from his pores. No, not as big as I thought. “Who sent you?”