I turned to the side as an older model red commodore sedan approached me and tooted its horn. During my teen years I had gotten used to the attention that my looks sometimes drew, but I was never quite comfortable with such brazen public displays of appreciation that usually followed a drive-by hollering. It left me feeling both flattered and at the same time objectified. Go figure.
The whole left side of the car was dented from some kind of accident, and the mirror was no longer serviceable—it was left dangling down by the side of the car door from a few wires. It rattled noisily against the door, swinging from side to side as the car drove slowly past me, the yahoos whistling for my attention again.
Music blared from the open car windows, a sure sign of attention seekers. It was a garbled mess of electric guitars and drums. The words were incoherent and the melody indeterminable. It was the same sort of music that all teenage boys seemed to listen to, and invariably went hand in hand with driving beat up old cars that had far too much muffler resonance. Not to mention the fact that these seemingly uncouth boys thought that they were God’s gift to women.
Burn outs, fast driving, loud music blaring from the windows, and insidious sexual comments, all said the same thing to women like me: ‘Look at me, I’m an attention seeking Neanderthal who thinks he’s top shit’. But seeing how teenage boys seemed to be about as thick as two planks, it was probably never going to sink in. I’d always had the burning inclination to tell them,
Get a personality, get a job, get a convertible and you’re in with a chance
, but I’d never actually done it.
I shook my head. They were still watching me, still predictably honking the horn, and still had their heads hanging out either side of the windows like dogs that were barking for attention. Where was a can of dog food when you needed it?
I waved as they passed by, a small smile playing at my lips as I realised just exactly what was going to happen next. For a brief moment they both looked confused by my response, until a second later their vehicle careened directly into a street lamp, with a loud crash and a hiss of radiator fluid.
It certainly pays to watch where you’re going. Perhaps I should have reminded them of that when they told me what a nice rack I had.
I turned left down another side street, glancing only once over my shoulder as both men opened their car doors and fell out, shaking their heads in confusion, the car sending up a torrent of steam from underneath the newly-buckled bonnet. The neighbours across the street were already dashing across the road to come to their aid.
I walked on, uncaring, the sounds of the panicked neighbours fading in my ears and allowing myself to smile at the karmic retribution of the situation. But just to be certain, I tilted my face back and sniffed at the air. The pungent aroma of a barbeque and someone cooking a roast dinner danced across the wind, entering my nostrils. I could smell plenty of other things around me too, but there was definitely no blood. Both of the men were fine—at least physically.
I rounded the corner and headed down the side of the local high school. Some of the students whose parents had forgotten them, or were running late, were sitting along the top of the fence patiently waiting to be collected. Most of them sat quietly talking to some of their friends. Others read books, and some of the more eager students had already started their homework, all of them just regular kids with regular human lives. In a small way, I envied them. Not because they were human, but because they had choices. All of mine had been taken away from me.
I smiled down at a little girl wearing the trademark blue on blue uniform of the grade school across the street. She was standing next to a boy who I assumed was her older brother, based on the protective way he kept an eye on her while reading his book. He wore the maroon and cream uniform, probably of the nearby high school, and pretended not to notice me as I approached. He dipped his nose further behind the pages of his novel.
The little girl waved at me as I drew near. She had little blonde piggy tails and large brown eyes, reminding me of a younger version of Kayla. ‘You’re pretty,’ she giggled, bouncing excitedly from foot to foot.
I wished I had that much energy at four o’clock in the afternoon. ‘And you are absolutely adorable,’ I said, tugging on one of her piggy tails and smiling.
Her brother apologised, stuttering profusely. He went red in the face and then clamped his hand down over her mouth and led her away in the other direction. She continued to wave at me anyway, and I continued to smile. She was so small and so innocent—had I ever looked that way myself? I somehow doubted it.
I had never been a normal child, never been a normal teen, and if I was being honest, I would never be a normal adult either. So ‘innocent’ wasn’t exactly a word I could use to describe myself, particularly not now that I knew that I was just a temporary human shell for both vampire and werewolf behaviour. What was going to be the trigger for my first uncontrolled bloodbath? Could I turn at any minute or would the first inklings of vânâtor behaviour only manifest after my maturity? Probably the latter. But seeing how no one knew for certain what was going to happen to me, it was all just speculation.
I shook my head. I had to think about this logically. What were the basic characteristics that defined a vânâtor? And how did they relate to my bloodsucking nature?
Well, for one, they were fast moving, like the Vampires. But as far as I was concerned, that was not actually a bad thing. I would love to be able to run fast, jump high and feel the wind in my hair. There was nothing particularly disagreeable about that gift at all. Okay, so running fast was a plus.
Two—they drank blood. Well, I wasn’t exactly amenable to that idea just yet, but blood was going to be what I craved for in the years to come. The only difference between the two species was that the Vânâtors also drank vampire blood. I could probably live with that too, especially if every one of them I ever met turned out to be an asshole. But if they turned out to be as intriguing as William Granville, then I was going to have to learn some self control. But what if I couldn’t control my urges?
I chewed on the corner of my lower lip nervously as I crossed the intersection and headed up our street, the driveway coming into view in the distance. If I couldn’t control my urges then there was really only one option. I’d have to turn myself into the IMI. I could not be trusted around the public. It certainly wasn’t my first preference, but given the alternative, I really had no choice in the matter.
Okay, now that that’s sorted, what else?
Three—vânâtors didn’t heal. Well, that was certainly not an issue for me. According to George, that extra chromosome was already well blended into my system, allowing that portion of my Vampiric genes to take effect.
Four—they didn’t like sunlight. No problems there either. Vampires liked the sunlight about as much as I liked Algebra. What else?
Five—they could shapeshift. I wasn’t really sure if I was keen on that idea. One minute I’m me, regular Elena, and then the next, I’m a big hairy wolf. Not a good look. But I suppose I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. As long as I didn’t get a hairy lip, bushy side burns or excessive armpit hair I could deal with going canine. But would I moult?
I shook my head and laughed. I quickly sobered, though, when I remembered the most important aspect of Vânâtor life that separated them from the more sane nature of the Vampire.
Their mating habits.
That got to me.
Surely it wasn’t plausible for me to be endowed with a truly animalistic and insatiable sexual appetite? As it was now, I got less action than a nun. If I didn’t specifically have an interest in men now then I certainly couldn’t fathom feeling any differently about the subject after my turning. But perhaps that was the point? Just like I’d had no control over my Vampiric tendencies, maybe I’d have even less over the Vânâtor ones? Although if I started rubbing myself up against every man’s leg that I saw like a rabid dog, I was going to have to shoot myself.
So what were my biggest fears then? Was I worried that I’d be horny all the time? Or was I worried that I would want to eat absolutely every single person that I looked at? No exceptions?
Neither.
I was scared that I had no idea what would happen to me, and even less of an idea about whether the other immortal beings would accept me. Eternity was an awful long time to be an outcast. I mean, look what happened to Edward Scissor hands. First the guy was preyed upon by an Avon lady, everyone’s worst nightmare, and then the entire town turned against him because he was different. What chance would I have if I became a woman with fangs and a hairy back?
I huffed in frustration and grabbed my keys from my backpack. The phone was ringing inside the house, probably Susan and George phoning to check up on me.
I opened the front door and dashed inside. ‘Hello?’ I said, out of breath as I picked up the receiver.
‘Hey, it’s me.’
I frowned. I hated it when people did that. How were you supposed to guess who the caller was from just a few short words? Did I look like some kind of bloody mind reader?
‘It’s Kayla,’ she answered for me, hopefully realising that vagueness would get her nowhere except a hang up.
I scratched at my forehead and brushed my hair back from my face, channelling calm and attentiveness. ‘What’s up?’
‘What’s up?’ she shrieked. ‘What’s up? You do realise that you have not called me back, right?’
I pinched the skin on the bridge of my nose and bit back an angry retort. It wasn’t her fault I was having a crappy day. ‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that you’d called.’
‘But I’ve been leaving you messages and texting you since Sunday.’
‘My cell got taken off me, Kayla. I’m grounded.’
‘Oh, I guess that explains it then.’
‘Did you want something?’
‘Wow, you sound kinda testy today.’
‘Sorry, had a bad day, that’s all.’
‘Want to tell me about it?’
‘Not really.’
‘Oh,’ she said, sounding put out. ‘Well I just rang to find out why you dropped off the face of the Earth. Do you want to do something this weekend?’
I let out a long sigh. ‘Kayla, I just finished telling you that I’m grounded. I’m not allowed to do anything. I’m not even supposed to be talking to you right now.’
‘Where are your parents?’
‘Out.’
‘So I’ll come over. They’ll never know.’
I shook my head even though I was vaguely aware that she couldn’t see the motion. ‘No, I just need some alone time at the moment. I’ll see you at the shop on Saturday.’
I was just about to hang up the phone when I heard her yell out, ‘Wait!’.
‘Yeah?’
‘Elena, I have to tell you something.’
‘What is it?’ I said, pressing the receiver back against my ear again and rolling my eyes.
‘Well, it might be nothing, but I thought I should just tell you anyway. It’s one of the reasons I’ve been trying to contact you.’
I pulled a chair out from the dining room table and sat down. I had an inkling this was going to take longer than five minutes and after the day I’d had I felt particularly weary. ‘Go on.’
‘Well I tried calling you a half-dozen times because I wanted to see if that guy had gotten in contact with you. Of course, now I understand why you didn’t call me back. Just as well, I was starting to feel a little cranky with you for not returning my phone calls and—’
‘Kayla,’ I said, interrupting her. ‘What guy?’
‘You don’t know? Oh.’ She paused. ‘He seemed like he knew you.’
‘Kayla, what are you talking about?’
‘Well I was working yesterday and this absolutely gorgeous guy came walking into the store. He came up to the counter, and Glen asked him if there was anything we could do to help him, but he asked specifically for you. Glen said that you only worked on Saturdays and could he take a message for you.’