Wraith's Awakening (Para-Ops) (2 page)

“Thank you so much,” I breathe as I race past a series of racks overloaded with clothes. I have the impression of skulls, flames, and not surprising, seas of black, before I see the dingy white door and barrel through it. I freeze for only a second when I get a whiff of the place-it makes me long to be back next to the dumpsters-then squat over the toilet.

My relief as I wait for my bladder to empty is dizzying.

I realize I've discovered two more things about myself. I can be polite. And, while I'm no wimp-I'm wearing a shirt I found in a dumpster, after all-I have certain standards when it comes to cleanliness. Even though a person's butt is supposed to be the most sterile part of the human body, I'm not taking chances. I need to find out who I am and where I belong, and my blue-tinged butt isn't touching anything nasty in the mean time.

I wait several minutes but nothing happens. My urge to pee magically disappears and I frown.

What the hell is going on?

I straighten and wash my hands at the sink. I cringe when I see my reflection in the mirror. I'm comforted by the fact my features seem familiar, but my tangled mass of white hair and oddly colored skin make me look like a mental patient on the loose. It's a wonder that the kid didn't scream in fright when he saw me, let alone that he let me use the facilities. In truth, however, he didn't seem the slightest bit startled by my appearance and I'm not sure what to make of that. . . .

I freeze when I open the bathroom door. On the floor is a stack of clothes, which I pick up. I glance down the hallway, then back at the thin tee, shorts, and flip-flops in my hands. The kid is nowhere to be seen, but I don't care. I almost weep with relief as I change.

When I return to the front of the store, the kid's turned on some music and is folding a bunch of shirts. They're emblazoned with a variety of designs and logos, and a black one catches my eye.

Just Be.

A red one says: Let it happen.

A little odd, but something tells me I'm not a huge fan of alternative lifestyles.

The music playing is something I don't recognize but it's got a catchy beat.

The longer I stand there saying nothing, however, the more obvious it becomes that the kid is ignoring me. Of course, I pretend not to notice. Pathetic, really, but where else am I going to go?

“Thank you for-” I manage just as the front door bursts open. A young female, even more gothed out than the kid here, rushes in, then jerkily flips the locks. Pressing her back against the glass door, she closes her eyes. Her chest heaves with her breaths.

I glance quickly at the kid, but he seems to be ignoring the girl, as well. Frowning, I turn to her. “What's-?”

She opens her eyes and marches toward us. Grabbing the kid by the shoulder, she whips him around to face her. The T-shirt the kid had been folding falls to the ground. “I told you not to come in today. Are you crazy? No wait. You don't have to answer that. She's here,” she says with a jerk of her thumb. “Which proves you are. Either that or you've got a death wish.”

I want to squash her like a bug, and once again I am appalled by my instinctive impulses. Maybe, I think, I'm just feeling protective toward the individual who saved my bladder and my sense of cleanliness? “Now wait just a-”

The girl groans. “Even better. She's obviously just awakened and you what? Give her clothes? Harboring an Otherborn is a capital offense, Jonah. The vampire was bad enough, but now you're-you're helping out them?” Her lip curls with distaste in a manner I immediately find offensive.

Insulting the kid in one thing, but me?

“Them? Her?” I say quietly. “Look, I don't know what kind of shit you're smoking, but are you actually comparing me to a vampire? I might not look like much but I can-”

She whirls on me. “You can what?” She crosses her arms over her chest, waits a few seconds, and then gestures for me to go on. “Well? I bet you don't know what you can do, do you? You don't even know your name, right?”

I narrow my eyes. “I don't like your little friend, Jonah,” I grit out. “But thanks for the clothes.” I march toward the door, but little goth girl darts in front of me, blocking my path.

“You can't just leave,” she hisses.

I arch a brow. I might not know much, but I know I'm at least four inches taller than her and outweigh her by a good thirty pounds. “Of course I can. Move.”

“There are military cops out there, scavenging the area for Otherborn. Some old lady wearing the American Flag is with them. She probably took one look at you and called the cops.”

I frown. Somehow, I'd pissed the old lady off, sure, but why would she call the cops on me? I'm sure I can't be the only vagrant-make that, naked vagrant-she's ever come across, can I? I turn to the kid. “What's an Otherborn and why does she keep talking about me as if I'm one of them?”

Jonah presses his lips together as if he'd rather wear Ralph Lauren than answer me, but then he mumbles, “An Otherborn is a creature that doesn't have full human DNA but looks human.”

I snort. “And what? I'm not human?”

He hesitates. “No. You're human. Sort of.”

“Sort of? What does that mean?”

“It means,” the girl sneers, “you're not human anymore. You're-”

“Candy!” We both start at Jonah's yell. He looks appalled. Panicked. “You can't just blurt it out! She just awakened!”

For a minute, goth girl-Candy-hesitates, then waves her hand. “Well, I'm sorry, but I don't have time to cater to her feelings. She needs to get the hell out of here fast. The sooner she knows she's dead the better.”

I recoil, then laugh. Dead. Yeah, right. A little tired, maybe. Cold. In need of a really good dye job. But dead?

“Okay, fine,” I say. “Since you don't want me going out the front, I'll go out the back.” I turn, having seen the back door beside the bathroom that would likely lead me into another alley. “But I'm not doing it for you, crazy girl.” I glance at Jonah over my shoulder. “Thanks for the bathroom and the clothes. I appreciate it. Now I've really gotta-”

Jonah's eyes widen, warning me. Before I can turn back, however, I run into something heavy and solid. Automatically, I raise my hands to steady myself and end up grabbing two sinewy arms just as someone grabs mine, too. As I'm lifted, I open my mouth to scream, but the man carrying me immediately shoves my face into his chest, muffling the sound. Vaguely, I'm aware of being jostled as he runs.

He enters a dark room and puts me down. I see a shadow of a man-a very tall man-crouched next to me. I will myself to move-to crawl away from him if I have to-but even as I tense his head whips around. I moan in terror at the silver glow of his pupils. Those eyes peer at me from the darkness, demonic and deadly, as he leans down close-close enough so I can just make out the hard features of his face. When he speaks through clenched teeth, telling me to shut up, I have no intention of disobeying him.

His teeth are even more disturbing than his eyes. They're white and strong and two of them are fangs that look sharp enough to rip through steel. Biting down on my frozen skin won't require a whole lot of effort.

CHAPTER TWO

Crazy goth girl's words are bouncing around in my head like a bionic jumping bean. I'm not about to give her talk of Other-creatures and vampires and dead women walking any credence, of course, but I have to admit this guy has me a little freaked out. I shift, but I can't help it-when he looks at me with narrowed eyes, I cower. Just for a second, but enough to make me mad.

I raise my chin and sit up, prepared to act unafraid but also ready to kick him between the legs if he makes a move toward me. No way am I letting the guy get a grip on me again. Having my throat ripped out might be the result of me fighting back but-

He sighs. “I'm not going to rip your throat out. But kick me in the nuts and I'll definitely have to rethink that.”

My body goes rigid.

Did he just-?

Yes, he had. He'd read my mind. Was he playing a trick on me? Did he know Candy? As I remember those fangs of his, I ask, “Are you-”

“No, I'm not playing a trick on you, yes, I know Candy, and yes, I'm a vampire. Now shut up before they hear you.”

I shut up. I mean, at this point I feel I have no other choice. Here I am with a scary-ass dude who claims he's a vampire and can read my mind, and he's hiding. Common sense tells me two things: 1) he's not hiding from Jonah and Candy; and 2) whoever he's hiding from, I'm probably not going to want an introduction.

He sighs again, as if he's still reading my mind and is quickly losing patience. To show my own annoyance, I slither farther away from him, which turns out not to be the greatest idea. All I've done is backed myself deeper into a corner behind some shelving. There's a mattress on the floor with some sheets and a pillow, only the sheets feel like silk and they're pulled taut.

Either Jonah provides excellent turn down service or this guy-vampire-is exceedingly fastidious. I open my mouth to ask him if he's sleeping there-I know, not the most intelligent question since common sense tells me he is-but I am interrupted by shouts and a crash from outside.

My first thought is for Jonah and how nice he was to leave me clothes, and Candy's concern because he'd been helping not only a vampire but “them” who are somehow associated with me. My second thought is whether the military police that Candy had spotted are still accompanied by the patriotic old lady and if so why I hadn't seen her torch and pitchfork, for this certainly has all the makings of a witch hunt. My final thought is, oh shit, this isn't a witch-hunt but a vampire hunt and I'm right within striking distance.

Move!

I gather all my energy and get ready to hurl myself past the guy in front of me but before I can he curses, dives for me, and wraps his arms around my waist. I scream, a long, terrified sound that is abruptly cut off by the impact of my body being slammed into the ground. Vaguely, I hear a male voice rumbling in my ear, telling me to calm down. I try to tell him to fuck off, only I can't catch my breath, so I push and kick at him until he backs away, giving me some space.

The distance doesn't seem to ease my frantic gasps for air. “Can't-breathe-” I gasp, only to see him, quite unbelievably, roll his eyes.

I clasp my throat in both hands and close my eyes, accepting I won't be getting any help from him. Why should I? He's a vampire-

My eyes pop open to focus on him once more. He's leaning with his arms crossed against his chest, watching my impending suffocation with a look of irritation. I feel only a second of outrage before astonishment kicks in.

I can see him clearly now. He's tall but painfully thin, his cheekbones gaunt and his eyes sunken in a way that clearly radiates illness. Impossible, I think, given the ease with which he'd picked me up earlier, yet I can't deny the way his clothes hang on his frame. His silver hair, however, is shoulder-length and glistens in the sunlight with vitality and health. Eyes with an unnatural glow at their center are otherwise as dark as night. He now looks bored, with one shoulder resting casually against the bark of a tree.

Sunlight. Tree.

My wheezing abruptly stops, leaving an awkward silence that is broken intermittently by. . . . the sound of birds? I shake my head and chuckle. Then I start to laugh, a rowdy uncontrollable sound of mirthful disbelief.

“Thank God,” I mutter as I ease first into a sitting position, then stand. Slowly, I walk up to the “vampire,” who still watches me with narrowed eyes. Lifting one hand, I poke him in the chest with my index finger. He feels real. I poke the tree beside him. The tree feels real, as well.

I shake my head. “So what kind of whacked out dream is this, anyway?”

What appears to be a smile flashes across my dream vampire's face but is gone so quickly I'm sure I imagined it. “You think this is a dream, do you, doll?”

I shrug. “Of course it is. You're a vampire, right?” I reach out and he flinches back slightly, then stops himself. With one finger, I pull back his upper lip to study his fangs. “Nice,” I murmur before pulling away.

He raises a brow. “Thank you.”

“And you what, teleported us from that store to-?” Palm up, I gesture to the small wooded grove around us. “Where are we, by the way?”

“We're in California. Just south of the Oregon border.”

I nodded. “Okay.” I see a low boulder that looks halfway comfortable and walk over to it. Sitting down, I extend my legs, cross one ankle over another, lean back on my stiffened arms, and wait.

“So what now?” I ask.

The vampire straightens. “This isn't a dream.”

“Uh-huh. Then what is it?”

Something almost like pity flashes across his face, then he looks at me with an unreadable expression. “Unfortunately, it's a nightmare. One that's only going to get worse for the both of us.”

*****

This is a nightmare all right, but I refuse to believe it's real. I'm afraid that my sanity is hanging by a thread already; accepting this is all real would mean it had snapped a long time ago. I mean, in addition to having seen the Terminator, I'm obviously a Star Trek Fan. Teleporting is something they do on T. V.

“William Shatner became a reality T. V. star, do you know that?”

As a matter of fact, I do, but I don't admit it. “Will you stop doing that?”

“Sorry, but your thoughts are pretty loud. Louder than most.”

For some reason, I take that as an insult. As if I should be able to control the volume of my thoughts and my loudness is a sign of bad upbringing. Crossly, I snap, “What's your name, anyway?”

He smirks. “Why? If I'm a dream, what does it matter?”

“Because until you disappear, I don't want to keep thinking of you as 'the vampire. '”

He shrugs and the gesture is infuriating. “Again, why? I am a vampire.”

“Yeah,” I grit out between a clenched teeth. “An annoying one.”

This makes him scowl, which makes him look really mean, which in turn makes me a little anxious.