The Seventh Sister, A Paranormal Romance (7 page)

I get a salad wrapped in a cardboard bowl, wrapped in plastic and a bottle of water.

“Is that all you’re eating?” he asks.

I look at his tray and he has pizza, green beans and some sort of syrupy fruit thing. “What are you my nutritionist too?” Gosh, I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.

“No,” he says in his on defense, and he’s not even insulted, which makes me feel even worse. Being in his company exposes me
to me
.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to talk to you like that,” I say as he takes a step in front of me to pay for my lunch.

He just smiles at me after he tells the cashier thank you and then shines those bright, straight white teeth at her too.

“Follow me,” he whispers in my ear.

To my delight we head out the door. I catch a glimpse of Riley across the cafeteria sitting at a table with her two-dimensional friends, and neither she nor they look happy as they watch us.

Derek leads me down the steps and towards the front entrance of the school where there’s an unmarked door right before we get to the gate. He opens the door and there’s a small classroom with about six desks and chairs in it.

“It’s the tutoring room.”

“You tutor too,” I say as I watch him pull two desks together to face each other.

“Yeah, I help out.”

I shake my head but I’m smiling too. “Of course you do.”

He eyes me curiously. “Does that bother you?”

“No,” I first answer and then think about it. “Well, yeah, kind of. I mean if that’s what you do, then that’s fine but if you could just not do it while you’re with me, that’ll be great.”

He’s giving me that confused look again.

“What?” I snap at him.

“You’re not supposed to be this. What made you this way?”

“Which way am I supposed to be? Happy? Because I’m not.” I go stiff because I can’t believe what I just revealed to him.

Derek doesn’t say anything, and I don’t know what expression he’s wearing on his face because I’m staring at the wall, avoiding eye contact with him.

“It’s just,” I began to explain, “the world is big, but I feel like I’m trapped in a tight space. That’s all.”

After being successful at willing myself not to cry, I finally look at him. He’s smiling understandingly at me and it’s comforting.

“Do you have any more questions for me?” he quietly asks.

“Um…” I inch my face back to look at him. There’s no judgment in his expression, which causes me to take an inner sigh of relief. “I have questions,” I say just as quietly.

“Shoot,” he says and presses his back against the seat, getting comfortable in his chair.

“Okay, well, the other night, you said that the three guys were different from the other one. You know the one, who…”

“Yes, I know,” he says, allowing me not to explain what I thought about the injured vampire, the one on the ground by the dumpster. “Normally I can pick up on Selells energy. I knew the fog rolled in, but we thought they were just passing through.”

“Who are we?”

“Lux and…” he hesitates but is making sure he’ll be able to read every part of my face when he says, “Deanna.”

I take a long time to blink and actually see the black behind my eyelids for a little while.

“Do you mean my mother, Deanna?”

“Yes,” he says very slowly, holding on to the last part of that, like there’s more he wants to reveal but can’t.

I’m not shocked. Now her strange phone call makes sense.

“So she knows about the Life Blood.”

Again, he pauses. I think he’s checking with himself, making sure he’s able to answer that question. “Yes,” he finally says.

“Alright, fine,” I say to put him at ease. “So you’re not being able to pick up on the other three vampires, is that bad?”

“I don’t know.” He looks off. “They were different than the average Selell, and that’s not good. There’s something going on, but we’ll figure it out.”

“But what about the one that was hurt?”

“I think you had something to do with me not being able to get a read on him.”

“Me?”

“This school has protection and so does your house. And he went undetected under your place of protection.”

“But so did the other three.”

“Yeah, but not because of you.”

I nod my head, trying to process all of this information. I don’t understand how I’m the reason the vampire that was hurt couldn’t be sensed by Derek, the Wek, which reminds me of something else I’ve wanted to ask him. “Oh, who did that to his neck?”

“They were trying to drink him, and Selells will die if they drink another Selell, which means those three creatures have to be another species of vampires.”

“Wow,” is all I can say because I have nothing to add to the facts.

He nods down at my salad. “Do you eat meat?”

I think about that. I’ve never made a conscience decision not to eat meat. “No, I guess I don’t,” I answer.

“Interesting,” he says.

“What’s interesting about it?” He keeps his mouth shut tight. “Can’t tell me,” I guess.

“Not at this moment.”

I’m learning not to push him. Instead I unwrap my salad and take the first stab into the vegetables with the plastic fork.

Then something strange happens. When I look up from my salad, Derek reaches a hand across the desks and slides the back of his fingers down my cheek. I’m immobilized by his touch and wonder what he’s thinking.

“What? Why did you do that?” I ask unfiltered.

“I don’t know.” And he does look confused. “You’re just a very beautiful creation.”

“Oh,” is all I can say as I stare into my salad.

I can’t believe I’m falling for someone who calls themselves a Wek, and although I don’t know what being a Wek is entirely, I know liking him in a romantic way couldn’t be that smart on my part.

It’s like because of what he did, we ran out of words to say to each other, although in reality we hadn’t. I have so many other questions to ask him, but I can still feel his hand on my cheek although he’s no longer touching me. This moment is beyond awkward and he hasn’t even started eating yet.

“Don’t like the pizza?” I ask between bites.

“I don’t eat human food.”

“But you ate the candy apple.”

“It’s not that I can’t eat human food. I just don’t. But the candy apples…” He nods continuously. “They’re good.”

I sniff a chuckle. “We all have our vices, don’t we?”

“What’s yours?” he asks.

“A large, hot
mochaccino
at Macchiato Espresso Bar off Forty-Fourth and Lexington,” I answer with a faraway look in my eyes. “And
Abraco
too, they make a great cappuccino.” I sigh longingly. “Gosh, I miss New York. You know? The convenience of it.”

When I look at him again, he’s smiling at me and I smile back at him. “But now that I’m here in Moonridge, I’m with you. All it took was one bite into that candy apple, and now I’m addicted.”

We both laugh at that just as the bell rings.

I ask Derek not to walk me to my next class because I don’t think I can put on an indifferent face while he chats it up with every single person in the school. Once again, he looks at me like he doesn’t understand why that bothers me so much and truth be told, I don’t really understand myself. Only that when it happens, I don’t feel like I’m being authentic.

“I mean there are just some conversations I’d rather not have or listen to because I’m not interested,” I try to explain.

“But it doesn’t hurt to listen.” He sounds too sensible.

I roll my eyes a little. “Well, it kind of does hurt me physically if I’m listening to someone blab on about nothing interesting. I get a headache.”

“Really?” He has this serious expression.

“Really.” Not really, but I just go with it because although the headache is not literal it is figurative.

We stood by the door having that conversation. He took one step closer to me. Our faces were close. His breath smelled faintly like cinnamon spice.

“Do I give you a headache?” he asked.

Of course, I said the first thing that came to mind. “Is this you flirting with me right now?”

“I don’t know,” he replied.

It felt rational to stare into each other’s eyes. I think I wanted him to kiss me. As I’m sitting in English Lit, all I can think about is remembering wanting him to do just that.

“Any thoughts, Zillael?” Mr. Reynolds asks.

That’s when I realize, I’ve been sitting here daydreaming while staring out the window.

“On what?” I ask. I’m slightly peeved by him putting me on the spot like this.

“Well, you would know if you were listening.”

I feel my eyes glowering at him for trying to patronize me. I’ve listened to his boring lectures everyday up until now, and it’s as if all the other times I sat here pretending not to be bored out of my mind don’t even count. Instinctively, I’m preparing the most sarcastic comment I can conjure, but then, and strangely enough, I ask myself what would Derek do?

When the answer comes to me, I sit up in my chair, look Mr. Reynolds straight in the eyes and say, “Sorry, I’ll pay closer attention.”

The shock in the air is thick. I’m electrically aware that every single student in the classroom expected a snarky remark from me, including Mr. Reynolds.

“Thank you,” he says, but it sounds like he’s questioning whether that’s the appropriate reply. So, “Thank you,” he says more assuredly after a brief pause.

I almost shrink in my seat because I’m getting hit by stares. I do pipe up and listen to Mr. Reynolds talk about
The Great Gatsby
, which turns out to be this week’s assigned reading.

Finally, it’s the last class of the day. When I walk through the door, Mr. Lux is at the front of the classroom writing on the chalkboard with his back to us. This is the first time I’ve seen him since that night. As I’m standing there watching him, Riley walks by and bumps me hard. The impact is like getting hit by a flea, but still I’m irritated.

“Oops, sorry,” she says, but that snide smile tells me she’s not sorry at all.

I’m debating about whether or not to take her by the collar and hem her up against the wall in hopes it will scare her enough to get the picture—I’m someone she doesn’t want to mess with.

“Zillael,” Mr. Lux says as he quickly whips around and dashes over to a chair on the front row on the opposite side of the classroom. He slams his hands down on the tabletop. “Sit here.”

Feeling hot under the black turtleneck sweater, I move over to the seat but Riley leaps in front of me.

“So what’s going on between you and Derek?”

“None of your business,” I say past clenched teeth.

“How does it feel to screw around with another girl’s boyfriend?”

“I don’t know, never done that before.” I’m snarling.

“You’re such a bitch,” she barks.

I’m trying to picture what Derek would do in this case as well, as it’s quite extreme.

I look deep into her face to really see her, like
see
her. There’s vulnerability in her eyes. She’s really young too, probably the jewel of both her parents eyes with her light auburn hair and a button nose. She should be a Christmas ornament. Mr. and Mrs. Simms would never believe their daughter’s a bully. Here’s another thing I see. She really believes I’m unable to hurt her and thinks she can hurt me.

I know this is a dire situation because it’s clear she’s not going to stop taunting me until something severe happens.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I mutter and step around her. That’s when she pushes me in the back, but this time I’m prepared. She shoved me hard, but I don’t budge. My feet are planted muscles contracted.

“Ouch,” she screams and cradles the wrist of the hand she did the pushing with.

Morgan Slater and some girl whose name I think is Debbie rush over to see to her needs. I narrow my eyes at Mr. Lux as I pass him.

It wasn’t my fault
, I think, not sure if he hears me or not.

I know
, I hear in return, and I stop in my tracks, shocked. He did hear me.

Morgan accompanied Riley to the nurse’s office and class went on as usual. Funny how light the air was without her there. I didn’t realize how much she tainted my peace of mind. I think my way would’ve worked a long time ago. She needed to realize that messing with me is detrimental to her health.

It’s three o’clock on the dot, and I knock on Mrs. Lowenstein’s door as summonsed.

“Come in,” she calls from behind wood and fiberglass, which has her name spelled out in black letters.

When I enter, she’s wearing a genuine smile and the smell of coffee slides up my nose. Mrs. Lowenstein takes a sip of coffee contained in a white cardboard cup.

“We have a Starbucks now.” She raises her eyebrows at me with delight and then motions towards another cup sitting on the desk where I’m to sit. “Would you like a hot macchiato?”

I’m grinning from ear to ear, wondering if Derek mentioned my “vice” to her and if so, why would she supply it for me?

Our meeting was brief. The condescending, smug smile was nonexistent. I learned that she hung new lime-colored curtains in her living room last weekend but afterwards realized they were too ugly and took them down. She’s also thinking about taking a job in Cleveland, Ohio but doesn’t want to leave Moonridge because she thinks it’s an enchanting place. However, she’s turning thirty-five in February, and it’s time to recognize that she’s actually divorced and it’s time to start over.

I must admit, I was stunned she revealed that to me. As a matter of fact, I said absolutely nothing the entire time. When she dismissed me, she said, “I’m sure I won’t have to see you in here anymore. It looks like Mr. Firth has been an excellent influence on you.”

I clamped my lips tightly together to keep from exploding with laughter because that’s when it occurred to me that Derek’s influence over the crazy meeting went beyond the macchiato. It was like he was allowing me to be privy to the sorts of conversations he has with people, where they pour out their souls to him.

When I get to the parking lot, I see a tall figure leaning against the driver’s side door of my jeep. When he senses me he turns to smirks at me. I sniff a chuckle and approach him.