Vampires Rule (14 page)

“Really?” The kid’s smile returned, but it
had a mean twist to it now. His fingers tightened on her waist, and
he jerked her closer. “Well, what do you know about that. It looks
like I’m touching her. Are you going to try to hit me? I’m a lot
bigger than my buddy Tucker. Think you can take me on, squirt?”

A slow grin spread across Jack’s face. “I
thought you’d never ask.”

Silver intervened. She knocked John’s hand
off her waist and stepped between them. “Excuse me. I am not a chew
toy for you two morons to fight over. Besides, I’m not supposed to
be talking to you. Remember? Isn’t that what you wrote in that
stupid note?”

She stared up at him, not blinking, her face
an angry mask. He turned away for a second, long enough to see
Jersey standing in the doorway of his classroom. The teacher’s
probing eyes narrowed on Jack. They seemed to be asking a silent
question: Are you going to let that kid push you around?

The idea that the teacher thought Jack was
weak added gasoline to the growing fire in the pit of his stomach.
He didn’t know why it mattered to him what Jersey thought, but it
did.

John chuckled. “You are such a loser.”

Bam! Jack’s hands moved faster than his
brain. He pushed Silver out of the way with one hand while the
other plowed into John’s smug face. He regretted doing it almost
immediately. How many times had his mother told him violence didn’t
solve anything? It was wrong... but it felt so good.

John was right about being bigger than
Tucker, but that only meant he fell harder. The guy wasn’t smart
enough to stay on the floor. He was on his feet before Silver could
get a single word out. No doubt she was going to tell Jack he was a
jerk, but she didn’t get the chance. John took a wide swing at
Jack’s face.

Jack ducked. He punched John in the stomach,
twice. He shoved the boy backwards until they hit the wall. John
tried to get Jack’s head in a lock, but Jack was too fast for him.
They struggled to subdue each other and banged into the lockers
several times while Silver yelled for them to stop.

Deep in the dark recesses of his mind, Jack
wondered why he didn’t hear Jersey Clifford’s voice. Weren’t
teachers supposed to break up fights?

“What in the world is going on out here?”
Principal Hardwick shouted, “Break it up, you two, or I’ll expel
you both for the rest of the year!”

Jersey leaped in as if he’d just arrived. He
pulled John to the side, and his arms wrapped around the kid in a
tight hug. He had John’s arms trapped at his sides.

Hardwick glared at Jack. “This is your second
day and your second fight. I have had it with you. You are not
going to get an opportunity to make it a third.”

“Sir,” Jersey said. “It wasn’t Jack’s fault.
He was minding his own business when John attacked him. I heard
John say something about this being payback for Tucker.”

The three students gaped at the English
teacher, mouths wide open. He wasn’t supposed to lie. John started
to babble, desperately trying to tell Hardwick what really
happened. Hardwick wasn’t going to take the word of a student over
a member of the faculty. He gave John a week of detentions.

Jack expected Silver to back up John’s
version, but she kept her mouth shut. This would have been the
perfect opportunity for her to get rid of him. Maybe she didn’t
think Hardwick would believe her. Her eyes remained on Jersey’s
face the whole time. She didn’t understand why he was covering for
Jack either.

“Shouldn’t you two be in class now?” Jersey
held the door open for Jack. “Show’s over. Everyone get to
work.”

Jack’s eyes went to Silver’s face. There were
things, important things he wanted to say. He owed her an apology
to start with. Maybe even several. He wanted to tell her about his
vampire friends, about the threats. He wanted to tell her about the
fight with his brother and confess his new power to her.

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off with
a glare.

“Don’t talk to me.” She walked away.

He let her go.

****

Every English class with Jersey was more
fascinating than the last. Jersey had a way of commanding attention
without simply asking for it. He had the entire room enthralled
from word one. Jack thoroughly enjoyed the lecture. It even took
his mind off Silver for a while.

When it was over, Jersey asked him to stay
over for a few minutes and talk. Now he was going to hear it, the
reason Jersey had lied for him. He was beyond curious. Jack stayed
in his seat until the last student walked out the door. He slowly
stood and picked up his books, ready for an explanation.

Jersey took time to wipe the chalkboard
clean. He didn’t speak until he was finished. Then he turned with a
tight mouth and deep scowl on his face. “Why did you attack that
boy? He may have given you minimal provocation, but not enough to
resort to physical violence. I was astounded by your lack of
self-control.”

Jack’s shoulders sagged as he admitted, “I’ve
had a short fuse lately. I’m not sure why. I used to be an easy,
laid-back kind of guy, and now I hit lose my temper for no
reason.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me
that Silver is always somehow involved.”

“She didn’t do anything!”

“I’m not saying she did.” Jersey held his
hands up in mock surrender. “No need to get upset. We’re all
friends here.”

Jack took a deep breath to calm down. What
was wrong with him? He was the one who had broken up with her. If
she wanted to talk to every boy in school, it was none of his
business. He certainly shouldn’t be getting mad over it.

He sat on the edge of a desk in the front
row. His gaze fell on a pile of books on Jersey’s desk, and his
stomach plummeted to his feet. They were Jefferson Memorial
yearbooks. Jack forgot how to swallow as he checked the dates on
them. Jersey had a copy of every yearbook in the past fifteen
years, including the three from Jack’s time in school.

“Ah, I see you noticed my little project.”
Jersey lifted one book and opened it. “Before starting to work
here, I went through every single yearbook this school has
produced.” He flipped the pages. “Here we are. I told you I would
figure out why you look so familiar to me.”

Jersey set the yearbook in front of Jack and
pointed to Jack’s Sophomore picture. “There you are. Jack Creed.”
Jersey snapped his fingers. “I also have a fairly good computer in
my home, and I dug up everything I could find on you. Now I think
I’ve been around the proverbial block a few times, and a person is
hard-pressed to surprise me, but you managed to do it.”

Jack had heard enough. He and Billy had a lie
already prepared for such an occasion. Jack was Billy’s cousin from
Boston, and he’d never met Billy’s older brother, but there was a
strong family resemblance. Jack was going to try to convince Jersey
these were the facts.

Jersey didn’t give him a chance to lie.

“You died. But that isn’t the part that
surprised me, believe it or not. It was seeing you surrounded by
vampires.” Jersey nodded, a smug smile firmly in place. “Yes, Jack,
I have secrets of my own. I can touch a person and get a blast of
memory off them. When I touched your shoulder in detention, I got a
flash of you surrounded by vampires. It was brief, I confess, but
it was clear as glass. There were four of you, and you were
smiling.”

Jersey held a hand up and paced as if he was
giving another lecture and didn’t want to be interrupted. “Of
course I knew you weren’t a vampire, because you were in school
during the day and you weren’t a pile of ashes. You are obviously
human, which makes me wonder why you would be in the company of
vampires. Then I found this picture. I have a thousand more
questions now.”

Jack was barely listening. His mind twisted
around the fact that Jersey caught brief glimpses into a person’s
life when touching them. Jack wondered if this was a werewolf power
that no one knew about. Maybe that’s where he’d gotten it from.

Without asking for permission, Jack reached
out and grabbed Jersey by the hand. He was used to getting a jolt
of electricity from the contact before the scene began, but this
time it nearly knocked him off the desk. It was more powerful than
being struck by lightning.

****

The scene from Jersey played out differently
than the scenes from Silver’s point of view. Jack wasn’t inside the
man; he was an invisible spectator, a third-party in the room. He
stood in the corner and watched the memory unfold.

Jersey sat at a huge, ancient desk that must
have weighed a ton. His chair had a high back and was made from
expensive leather. It swiveled on steel balls when he turned his
attention from a pile of papers to an open book. There was a stone
fireplace to his left. Flames blazed inside of it, crackling and
popping as the logs burned.

Beyond the fire there was very little light
in the room. Jersey had a small gold lamp on his desk. That was
it.

The door opened and a tall woman with
platinum blond hair, the kind of color a person got from a cheap
dye bottle, glided into the room. She wore a bright neon pink
mini-skirt and a low-cut top. The way she dressed made Jack think
of Silver’s best friend. This woman could have been the girl’s
mother.

“She walks in beauty like the night,” Jersey
quoted. He leaned back in his chair and waited for the woman. “Of
cloudless climes and starry skies. And all that’s best of dark and
bright meet in her aspect and her eyes.”

“Better be careful.” She wagged a playful
finger at him. “Someday I might take you seriously.”

She handed him a folder, and he tossed it to
the side without a glance.

“There’s something on your mind,” he said,
clasping his hands on the desk and leaning forward, giving her his
full attention.

“I have bad news.”

Jersey stood slowly. Dressed in his usual
solid black, he had a blood-red tie on for a splash of color. His
cold eyes narrowed on the woman. “Tell me.”

She fidgeted with pencils on his desk,
avoiding his probing stare. “It’s Kenneth.”

“What about him?”

“He did something he shouldn’t have.”

“What now? How much trouble has he made for
me?” When she didn’t immediately answer, he raised his voice.
“Answer me! What has he done?”

She spoke fast, spilling her guts. “He wanted
to impress you, so he went after the werewolf slayer they call
Silver on his own, and she killed him. He’s dead.”

With a roar, Jersey changed in an instant.
The face of a giant wolf, black fur standing on end and huge eyes
that glowed red superimposed itself over Jersey’s human face.
Jersey was still visible behind it. It was like the ghost of a wolf
or a demon had possessed Jersey and was making itself known. His
growl of outrage shook the room. Books tumbled off the shelves.
Crystals on the chandelier above them clinked together. A painting
in the background fell.

He howled like a wounded animal. The sound
was like nothing Jack had ever heard. Thunderous, it sent a chill
up his spine.

Pagan covered her ears, a terrified
expression on her face. “Please, stop.”

In the blink of an eye, Jersey was his old
self again. He retook his seat and mumbled, “That stupid fool. If I
had wanted the girl dead, I could have done it myself a thousand
times over. Did he think I feared her? Did he think me too weak to
destroy her? Do you think I’m afraid of a little girl?”

Pagan shook her head. “No. I know you aren’t
afraid of anything or anyone.”

“Exactly. There’s no reason for us to panic
over this girl, no reason to rush to terminate. Her powers are
minimal at best. If and when I decide to kill her, I can do it
alone.

****

Jack let go of Jersey’s hand. He leaped off
the desk, almost knocking it over in his haste to put distance
between them. Jersey Clifford was a werewolf and not just any
werewolf. Jack hadn’t seen anyone turn part wolf while remaining
part human before. It was a new (scary) trick.

“What’s wrong?” Jersey asked, a smug twist to
his mouth. “What did you see?”

Jack shook his head. “Nothing.”

“It’s a little early in our relationship for
lies, Jack. Tell me what you saw. You tell me your secrets, and
I’ll tell you mine.” With a smirk, Jersey quoted, “All my faults
perchance thou knowest. All my madness none can know.”

Lord Byron again.

Was the teacher trying to tell him something?
Like maybe he was an insane werewolf who enjoyed playing with his
prey before devouring them?

Jack ran for the door, leaving his books
behind. He didn’t care what anyone thought. He raced down the
hallway, passed the filled classrooms. Desperation drove him. His
survival instinct kicked in. He was supposed to be in Study Hall,
but he wasn’t going to make it today.

A few feet ahead, a janitor was mopping the
floor. Jack barely glanced at the scraggly man with the long,
unwashed hair hanging over his face. When Jack got close to the
guy, he slowed down so he wouldn’t slip on the wet floor. Stopping
for a moment, he looked over his shoulder, made sure Jersey wasn’t
chasing him.

The hallway remained clear.

Water hit his feet as the janitor slopped the
mop over them. He glanced down at his wet shoes. The janitor did it
again. Water soaked through to his socks. The guy was doing it on
purpose. Anger began to build inside of Jack’s gut as he turned to
confront the man.

Jack recognized the face almost immediately.
If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget it. It was
forever burned into his memory. The janitor was the werewolf who
had killed his parents. An invisible sucker punch to the gut stole
Jack’s breath.

The janitor laughed, flashing uneven yellow
teeth.