Spellbound (the Spellbound Series Book 1) (3 page)

As it turns out, Rachel really does need help with her math homework, and I’m the only person she can invite over without feeling obligated to get dressed. In an odd way, I’m actually honored; not many people get to see Rachel in her natural state, without the makeup and thrift store clothing. We put our heads together, and surprisingly, we manage to struggle through four pages of trigonometry problems that she couldn’t handle on her own in her current state. By the time we’re done, it’s pitch black outside, and we’re both starving. On any other day, I’d stay and order Domino’s, but I figure going home is a better idea. It’s been a long day, and I want nothing more than to lie down and sleep.

The trip home, while uneventful, isn’t a fun one. It’s just late enough that some of the crazies are riding the subway, and one of them just happens to be in my car, singing off-key at the top of his lungs. My headphones aren’t the best at cancelling out the noise around me, so I turn my music nearly all the way up to drown out his rendition of “Somebody That I Used to Know”. When that fails, I pull out
Looking for Alaska
, hoping that it’ll be enough to distract me from the insult to musicians everywhere that is this man’s voice.

A few pages into reading, my mind starts drifting back to the incident in the “abandoned” building. I close the book for a minute, and look down at my hands. Aside from the fact that they’re starting to turn blue from the cold, they look the same as they always have. And I feel the same as I always have, albeit more tired than usual. Does that mean that strange sensation, and the power that came with it, was a one time thing? I try to recapture the way I felt in that moment, but I only manage to give myself a slight headache. I sit back in my seat, and groan; I’d been hoping for more interesting results.

It doesn’t take long for me to start thinking about Nick as well. I can’t help it; in the short time we’d spent talking, he had somehow become lodged in my mind, a feat that very few guys have been able to achieve. Something about the deep, gentle tones of his voice and that smile of his has me intrigued. I wonder if we really will ever meet again. Even though I know it’s unlikely, a large part of me hopes that we do. I want to know more about him; where is he from? How does he feel about being a vampire? What does he do during the day?

And that’s when it hits me... Day. When I was attacked, there was still enough sunlight left to burn any vampire to a crisp. Unless the sun doesn’t actually effect them, meaning I could be in danger at any moment during the day. And not just from vampires, as I’m sure they’re not the only creatures to exist. Werewolves, zombies, ghosts, shapeshifters, demons… what if they’re all real as well? And if so, what’s keeping them from ripping us all to shreds?

Thinking about Nick has suddenly lost its appeal. I don’t think I can allow myself to feel that way about someone that isn’t human, at least not anymore. I stuff my book back into my bag, and step off the train as it reaches my stop, trying to shake the feeling that I’m nothing more than an item on some monster’s menu.

***

I jolt out of bed, panting heavily, my covers drawn around me tightly. The same recurring dream from the last few nights lingers on the fringe of my consciousness, slipping away too quickly for me to take away many new details. One of the few things I do retain, the reason I’m freaking out a tiny bit, is a blue flash of light firing from my palm. I look down at my hands again, and they’re trembling, though not with fear. No… I’m more excited than anything else. I’d been starting to think I might be doomed to normalcy forever, but these dreams – or are they premonitions? – are leading me to believe otherwise.

Once my heartbeat returns to its normal pace, some of yesterday’s fatigue washes over me again, and I find it difficult to get out of bed. In fact, my whole morning routine is plagued with a sluggishness that I’m not accustomed to. If I were a coffee drinker, I’d drain a few cups and get my day started, but I make do with a bowl of Cocoa Puffs and a bottle of Pepsi to wake myself up. My mother wouldn’t have approved of this breakfast, but she’s still dead asleep, understandably; she got stuck working a double shift at the hospital last night. I start waking up a little in the shower, but it isn’t until I’m fully dressed, and out the door that I feel fully alert and ready for the day.

Thankfully, I don’t have long to wait before the bus arrives, and the ride is short enough that I make it to the stop near my school with plenty of time to spare. I’m starting to feel sluggish again, so I decide to buy another bottle of Pepsi at the corner store before heading to my first class. Along the way, I notice a familiar face, leaning against a streetlamp and flashing me a familiar one-dimpled grin. My heart stops for a moment, before I remember that I’d promised myself I wouldn’t develop feelings for him.

Nick pushes off the streetlamp, and walks a few paces in my direction, but he doesn’t get very far before someone grabs him from behind. Nick’s lifted off the ground entirely, and then both he and the man holding him seem to vanish. I highly doubt vampires can vanish into thin air, though; I focus on my surroundings, and sure enough, I just barely catch a large figure darting into the building where Nick and I first met. Without hesitation, I take off after him.

It takes me nearly a minute to reach the building’s open door, and the familiar, yet still unpleasant scent of garbage assails my nostrils when I do. A chorus of jeers and insults can be heard from within, and as I step past the threshold, I can clearly see the source of the commotion. A small crowd of homeless men (all vampires, I’m assuming) has gathered in the lobby, all of them concentrating on the action going on in the center. Two of them are holding up a struggling Nick, while the others take turns punching him in the stomach, or striking him in the face.

For a brief moment, I can see Nick’s face clearly through a gap in the crowd around him. His hair is plastered to his face, which is slick with black blood gushing from a gash above his eyebrow, and his lip is split down the middle. In that moment, his eyes meet mine, and he mouths something to me that looks suspiciously like RUN, but I don’t consider that an option. After he risked his life to save me yesterday, I can’t very well leave him to his own devices.

I can feel something welling up inside me, the indescribable sensation that came over me when I was attacked yesterday. It’s more intense than ever, but I do my best to contain myself until the time is right. One of the vampires, I think the one whose fangs had been ripped out by Nick, orders the others to stand aside as he approaches Nick with a sharp length of wood. I wait until he’s holding the stake high in the air to strike.

Time slows to a crawl as I hold my palm out towards the vampire in front of Nick. A weird energy flows down my arm, gathering in my palm until I can’t hold it in any longer, but just before I release it, I realize what it is that I’m feeling.

For the first time in my life, I feel truly powerful.

My palm flashes bright blue for a split second, and a huge surge of energy fires from within, leaving me completely drained. Whatever it is that I’ve done, I never get to see for myself; my vision flickers immediately after, and my body slumps to the ground in a languid heap. I’m only vaguely aware of someone calling my name, and then silence as the world around me turns dark.

Chapter 4

When I come to, I barely have enough energy to lift my head. From what I can tell, I’m no longer in the lobby of the abandoned building near my school, but lying on someone’s couch. I try to sit up, but all I can manage to do on my own is roll onto my side, my limp arm grazing the deep red carpet. I’m surrounded by dark wood furniture, arranged against white walls, which are unadorned save for the paintings hanging from each one. Since I don’t have it in me to move just yet, I focus on each of the paintings in turn; some are abstract splashes of vibrant color, while some seem to depict scenes from the artists’ life, and still others are simple paintings of fruit, or mundane objects. I’m a little envious of them, truth be told. This person’s work shows more skill than I’ll ever have in any field.

The sound of footsteps pulls my attention away from the paintings, and I crane my neck a little to see Nick rounding the corner. He leans against the wall, and asks, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been worse,” I lie. I pull myself up into a sitting position, and am immediately tempted to lie back down. I’m even more tired than I thought. Nick’s face is clear of all the blood from earlier, but I can still see where his lip was split, the line above his eyebrow where his face had been cut. He seems fine, but just to be on the safe side, I ask, “Are you alright?”

“I’ve been worse.” Nick smiles at me, and despite his recent injuries, it’s a pretty adorable smile. “I’m more worried about you, though. You passed out right after you blasted the guy that was about to kill me.”

“Wait… I did what?”

“Your hand flashed blue for a second, and then the vampire right in front of me blew apart. I still have to wash parts of him out of my coat.”

Something inside of me sinks like a stone at Nick’s words. I took a life. Both Nick and I are alive, so the results of my actions weren’t all terrible, but the fact remains that I killed a sentient creature. Then again, vampires aren’t technically alive, which means that I shouldn’t be too upset. There is also the fact that he was trying to kill Nick, and looking back, I’m sure he was one of the vampires that tried to kill me as well. Even so, I can’t help feeling a pang of guilt over what I’ve done.

I must have taken too long to answer, because Nick asks, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What happened next?”

“I took advantage of the confusion that followed to break free, grab you, and bring you to the condo. I know, a guy you just met bringing you back to his place sounds a little sketchy. But since I don’t know where you live, it was either this, or leave you out in the cold.”

“Well, thanks for not choosing option two. How long was I out?”

“Only half an hour.” Nick pauses, as if deciding whether or not to speak his mind, then says, “Thanks for saving me, by the way. I doubt you meant for things to end up the way they did, but either way… I might not be here if it weren’t for you.”

“It’s fine. At least we’re even now.” I lean my head back against the leather couch, and rest my eyes for a few seconds. I’m more awake than I had been a few minutes ago, but I still don’t feel back to normal just yet. Without opening my eyes, I wonder aloud, “What am I?”

I jump when I feel Nick’s weight pressing on the couch beside me. His steps are so silent; I didn’t hear him coming towards me at all. “I have an idea,” he says, “but I live with someone who’d be able to explain it better. She should be back in a few, if you want to stick around.”

“But I’m already late for school.”

“Exactly, you’re already late. What’s a few more minutes?”

“…Yeah, good point.” I look over at Nick, and ask, “What were you doing by my school this morning?”

“Honestly? Hoping I would see you again. I figured you must go to school near that building, since class would have just let out when we met.”

“And those homeless guys that attacked you…”

“Payback for yesterday. Remember the vampires that came after you?”

I nod; I’m not about to forget that experience any time soon.

“Well, when I fought them, I ripped out their fangs in the process,” Nick explains. “It’s not just the ultimate insult, for a vampire it’s a death sentence. We can regenerate any part of our body but our fangs, and since they’re what we use to hunt… it’s only a matter of time until a fangless vampire starves to death.”

“So that’s why they tried to kill you?”

“Yeah. There aren’t a lot of vampires in their little gang, but they know how to stick together. Although, now that their leader is dead, who knows what will happen to them?”

We sit in silence while I digest this information. I’m interested to know more about the vampire world, but all that I really take away from the exchange is how eager Nick was to see me again. I don’t know why he would be; I’m not all that interesting. Whatever his reasons are, I know I’m glad to see him again, even if the circumstances that led to us sitting on his couch aren’t ideal. This strikes me as an opportunity to learn more about him, so I ask, “Where are you from?”

“Born and raised in New York City,” Nick answers. “I used to live in Park Slope with my parents, but when I got bitten… let’s just say they weren’t very understanding.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say on the subject, and I don’t want there to be another awkward lull in the conversation, so I ask the first thing that comes to mind. “What do you do for a living?”

Nick: “I do research and development, sort of.”

Me: “Sort of?”

Nick: “I’m working with a small team to create synthetic blood that functions as an alternative food source for vampires that want to ‘go green’.”

Me: “That’s cool. How’s that going?”

Nick: “Not very well. We’ve nailed the taste, but it doesn’t seem to satisfy our hunger. The formula’s lacking something.”

Me: “Life?”

Nick: “How do you imitate life?”

Me: “Ask anyone with a Tumblr.”

I’m not sure whether Nick is young or hip enough to know what I mean, but he lets out a small laugh at my response. We fall into a comfortable silence, and I look around at parts of the room I haven’t inspected for a conversation starter. For the first time, I notice the massive window behind the couch. It extends from the floor to the ceiling, and offers a breathtaking view of Central Park from above. We’re high up enough that the people walking around and through the park look like tiny specks to me. There’s nothing going on outside that catches my attention, but I remember the paintings hanging around the room, and ask, “Did you paint these yourself?”

“No, my art skills peaked in the fifth grade,” Nick says. “My roommate Landon is a natural, though. It’s amazing, people pay thousands of dollars for his originals, but he still doesn’t think they’re any good.”

“I think that’s how most artists feel. I know I hate everything I write.”