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Falling Petals
Author's note: My teacher assigned a short story and the idea popped right into my head. I wrote it, and got the best marks out of the class, but the characters stayed in my mind. Finally I gave in and turned them into a story!
I aimed the gun carefully, breathed out slowly, and squeezed the trigger. Bang! The shot rang out in the clear, quiet air. Bang, bang, bang. I squeezed off three more shots in quick succession. Four of five family members lay dead. The last was a little girl, four years old that day. I hesitated, finger still on the trigger. The little girl was crying, and it tore at my heart. Even after more than three hundred years of horrible cruelty, I hated harming children. It’s just so wrong.
“Shadow.” Lunnette spoke my name softly. She stepped over the bodies to reach the little girl. Reaching down to touch her forehead, Lunnette hummed a simple, sweet lullaby. The little girl’s eyes fluttered closed. Though she still breathed, I knew she was dead to the world. Yet, my hand still shook. I couldn’t pull the trigger. Lunnette made her way back over to me and rested a hand on my shoulder. Thanks to her, I instantly felt calm again. My hand stopped shaking.
Lunnette was the outcome of a short ill-fated love affair between a fallen angel and a Nephilim. They’d passed along all their knowledge, along with a special gift. Lunnette ended up being powerfully empathic to the point of controlling feeling and- rarely- thoughts. The only drawback was she couldn’t affect anyone who knew about her talents unless they’d been trained to let her in. Thankfully, I had. However, her talent was rarely useful in our line of work. So, she was delegated the behind-the-scenes sort-of-brain of the operation. Her job was to help us wiggle out of trouble and to keep our grades up when we needed to. Plus, she was the cheerleader, keeping us optimistic and together.
“Let me do it.” Anfanasia came up to gently take the gun from my hand. Unlike me and Lunnette in our practical loose jeans and tees, Anfanasia was in a revealing, slinky red dress. She had been dubbed the temptress, and was in charge of seducing those we needed on our side. Anfanasia was a witch, descended from two pure and powerful lines. She had limited control of the elements and a basic know-how in the spells and potions area. Anfanasia aimed the gun at the little girl. Her job had made her harder than us, and she pulled the trigger without flinching. The fifth and final shot rang out.
“Let’s go. Torch it.” I ordered shakily. Anfanasia held up her hands as we backed out quickly, muttering under her breath. The room heated until the air literally sparked. The house burned quickly under Anfanasia’s influence. We stood there the whole time, watching to make sure all the evidence burned away. A fire engine showed up as the house smoldered out. We had called them so there would be no suspicion cast on us. Lunnette grabbed our hands and we were crying our eyes out within seconds.
“Ladies? Are you okay? Did you see who started the fire?” a policeman asked. We had a standing agreement that I talked to all officials, so this one was on me.
“God, it was this big guy. Heavy, you know? Maybe African American? He killed them. He killed little Hannah. She only turned four today.” I looked up at him, frowning prettily through the tears. The officer, maybe twenty-five, was definitely more interested in that than my story.
“Are you related to the victims? Or to each other?” the policeman questioned. His gaze wandered to the low-cut neckline of Anfanasia’s dress.
“We’re their cousins. We came to visit for Spring Break. The three of us are sisters. Alice is the oldest, and Liz is the youngest.” I sobbed, quickly running through our cover story. The officer believed me quickly despite our greatly varied appearances. We looked nothing alike. I had lustrous, wild black hair that matched my eyes down to the exact shade, and was tall and lithe. Anfanasia had fiery red hair and catty green eyes; she was average height and a little on the heavy side. Lunnette had golden blonde hair and turquoise eyes, pixie short and naturally thin. We were each unique. I had a dark, mysterious, hauntingly graceful beauty. Anfanasia was exotic and seductive while Lunnette was waifish and exuded a more modern version of my innocent, unknowing air. A car pulled up to the curb, almost hitting the officer. A man jumped out, panic clear on his face.
“Girls!” Agent James Lovell, the man who coordinated the Black Roses, cried. He swept us up in a close, personal hug that meant nothing at all to us, but everything to anyone watching.
“Dad!” Anfanasia smiled at me wickedly while Agent Lovell shook hands with the officer. He pointed us toward the sleek black limo.
“Welcome back Lunnette. Anfanasia. Mary-Anne.” A new agent opened the door for us from the inside. I only knew she was new because she used my old human alias, the one I had dropped in the seventies. For most, it meant a death sentence, but I was trying to be nice.
“I wouldn’t call her that if I wanted to keep my skin attached and right-side out.” Lunnette smirked while I scowled at the agent. I flashed my unnaturally sharp canines.
“It’s Shadow.” I snarled. The agent flinched, and I knew my eyes were the fiery red they somehow changed into when I was hungry. I snatched a bottle of red liquid out of the warmer and tried hard not to think about what it was.
The drive was long, giving me time to contemplate my role in our little group. I was the leader, the muscle, and the bait, all rolled into one slightly aggravated package. Part of my job was keeping us together and focused, making all the big decisions, and recording pretty much everything for the Powers That Be. Also, as my job as bait, I was the one who had to play innocent and draw out the criminals. I healed the fastest, so it was easier if I got hurt; plus, according to Agent Lovell, I was the most beautiful, a statement that constantly grated at Anfanasia. The least glamorous part of my job was often the most fun. I was in charge of taking out anyone who got in our way, in any way I wanted. Basically, I was a serial killer, and I enjoyed it the same way any of my kind would. Well, my parents’ kind.
My parents were vampires. That’s right, both of them. My birth was a flaw, a potentially fatal coincidence. I was a one-time occurrence. Something like me should be impossible, and would be for the rest of time. At least that’s what I hoped. Most people don’t see it. I can go out in the sun, and don’t have most of their weaknesses. Plus, I change my age and I have a pulse. Not much? I can age backward, normally, or even stop and resume hundreds of years later. It was enough that several people had tried to kill me over the years. Hours flew by as I stared thoughtfully out the window. As the ‘You are now entering Washington D.C.’ sign flashed by, the agent cleared her throat.
“Okay, so I’m going give you a quick debriefing for your next mission.” The agent announced. That got my attention. I snarled, fangs still carefully concealed. The manila folder quivered in the agent’s hands.
“Give it to her. It’s her job.” Anfanasia said coolly, shooting me an amused glance. I could feel the heat rising to my face. I had an expectedly violent temper and hated feeling like I was being replaced.
“No.” the agent’s voice was strong, but her eyes betrayed her.
“You’re coming dangerously close to being drained like a human six-pack.” Lunnette warned, blowing on her freshly painted nails to dry them. She handed Anfanasia the nail polish, which I’d already used. We always painted our nails the same self-formulated black polish, which was packed with spells we could activate at will. I was tempted to use some of them against the agent.
“I’d love to see her try.” The agent smirked. My lips skimmed back from my teeth n a silent growl.
“Is that an invitation?” I asked, voice slightly distorted by my fangs. I could almost feel the agent’s fear, and could certainly smell it.
“Take it! Take it!” she pleaded, shoving the folder at my chest. I took it calmly and popped open another bottle of synthetic blood.
“We’ve got an acquisition, girls.” I announced. The other girls whooped, and the agent smiled at us until I shot her a glare that spoke volumes.
“Finally! I’d rather capture than kill any day.” Lunette giggled. The happiness in the air made her seem a little tipsy.
“Lunnette, your name is Lisa. Anfanasia, yours is Anna. And mine is Rose.” I laughed at the irony.
“Brilliant! Read on Rose!” Anfanasia grinned.
“Starting now we’re to go by our new aliases. We’re the daughters of the vice president, triplets. He was replaced by his twin brother form the military, in our department. We’ve been in Boston for the last year, studying at a private and selective boarding school. We’re going to be seniors here. Yowch Anna, you’re going to need a lot of make-up and some serious acting skills to pull off being a horny seventeen-year-old.” I teased. Anfanasia was actually twenty-seven. Lunnette was 19. It would only take me about ten minutes to slowly age backwards from twenty-two to seventeen. I concentrated on starting the process and felt the years slipping away.
“Target?” Lunnette asked. Lisa I corrected myself. I had to think of them as my sisters Lisa and Anna.
“Eric Pearson.” I told them, struggling to figure out where I knew the name from.
“Pearson? Isn’t that the president’s name?” Anna asked.
“Oh yeah! Are they staging some kind of lame coup?” Lisa snorted.
“Actually, they believe he has powerful latent psychic healing powers caused by the trauma of his mother’s death and his following attempt at suicide.” I read off the file quickly. After a moment of silence, my sisters and I broke into laughter.
“Yeah, sure.” Lisa giggled.
“There’s no way that little squirt-" I froze.
“Yep. Hey, what’s up?” Anna frowned, noticing my shocked expression.
“Doesn’t the president only have one son?” I inquired.
“Yeah, the little third grader. What?” Anna asked, worried, as my expression shifted from shock to disbelief.
“Eric Pearson can trace his lineage back to your family, and yours. He’s seventeen.” I nodded my head twice while I spoke, first toward Anna, then at Lisa. Their mouths hung open- silent, shocked.
“Eric Pearson is the president’s step-son. The president adopted Eric when his father died eleven years ago.” The agent told us snarkily.
“No picture.” I commented, rifling through the rest of the paper.
“He has a constant bodyguard. Nobody who knows who he is has gotten close enough to take a picture unless they’ve been frisked. Then they’re constantly scrutinized. Rose, check your phone. There’s a picture of him from last year before his mother died. You’re the only one with a high enough clearance to see it. You’ll have to point him out to Anna and Lisa.” The agent looked uninterested, but she picked at her nails nervously.
“How can I have a higher clearance than them? Does the Black Roses mean nothing to you people?”
“You’ve been with us since our formation in 1973. Of course you have a higher clearance than them.”
“Wait, if we’re going straight to the White House, what the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m Senator Sanford.”
“What?”
“The vice president’s wife. My husband- your father- is already waiting for us. He’s young, only thirty-four, having fathered you at 17. The mother died in childbirth, leaving him with the kids. I’m twenty and he married me two years ago. You all hate me and rose hates her dad as well. Calls him a cradle robber and resents him from marrying a woman only three years older than her.
“Sounds like Shadow.” Anna muttered under her breath. Of course, with my senses, I heard her. I scowled at her reference to my volatile temper.
“Good. As long as I don’t have to pretend to actually like you.” I sneered. The agent gulped.
“I, uh, wasn’t finished yet.”
“Please continue.”
“He needs to be seduced.” The agent fidgeted but Anna stretched, showing too much skin.
“By a virgin.” Lisa flashed an awkward smile.
“By Rose.” They all stared at me.
“No!” Lisa and I protested at once.
“She’s still a virgin?” Anna broke into laughter. My glare only made her laugh harder.
“You have to.” The agent pressed.
“Trust me. The last time I tried, I killed the guy.” I answered flatly. Anna shut up, looking like she’d been slapped. Lisa sent me a sympathetic glance. She couldn’t have sex either. However, her reason was to save her own life. If she had sex, her powers would transfer to her lover. Lisa would be useless to the government, so she would disappear… for real.
“Well, practice makes perfect. Besides, our superiors believe his abilities will prevent that sort of accident. Back to the point. You need to gain his trust, loose whatever powers he has and teach him how to use them, seduce him, and then bring him back to us.”
“So in other words: meet and greet at school, prom, screw his brains out, then take him home to meet the parents.” Anna cackled. I smiled wryly, used to her crude and filterless way of talking.
“You could put it that way, yes.” The agent responded coolly. For the first time I really looked at her. She was decent looking. The agent had thin, straw-colored hair, a pale comparison top Lisa’s thick golden mane of ringlets. Her eyes were pale green, nowhere near as deep and seductive as Anna’s. Yet, I envied her. A mortal flame burned beneath her skin. She was human, just human, and that mortality was beautiful.
“Okay, so I’m assuming we go back to high school tomorrow?” Lisa questioned. I shuddered. I’d been there and done that too many times to react any other way.
“The school is on Spring Break. You’ll be starting next week. By you, I mean Lisa and Anna. You’ll interject yourselves into the school social system. Make sure Rose will have a stable position. You’ll be joining in May, ten days from graduation. Your job is simple. Only-" the agent hesitated.
“Only what?” I probed warily.
“You’re going to have to tell him what you are. The very first day. We don’t believe he’ll freak out, but be wary.”
“I’ll find a way.” I nodded firmly. I’d completely resigned myself to the inevitable.
“Okay. So you’ll get the expensive wardrobes and anything else you’ll need for school. You’ll each receive a credit card with half a billion dollars apiece. You have until graduation to remove him or we will be forced to eliminate him as a possible threat.” The agent said.
“What do we call you?” I asked belatedly as we pulled up in front of the White House.
“You can call me Samantha. Welcome home girls!” she responded. A big, buff man with sandy blonde hair and foamy blue eyes waved vigorously form the drive. We caught on immediately as the agent jumped out to run up and kiss him. Anna and Lisa rushed out to hug him as well. I took the time to down the rest of my bottle and pop open another. Then, bottle in hand, I sauntered past my ‘family’ and was directed to my room.
“Rose. Rose Sanford? Miss Sanford?” the teacher droned on monotonously. I had been blocking out every single word she had said for the past five or ten minutes.
“Rose!” Anna hissed. She roused me form my distracted stupor by chucking her pencil at me.
“Huh?” I questioned, annoyed.
“I’m assuming you’re the third Sanford. Please pay attention in class. I would hate to give you detention as well as your sister.” The teacher scolded. I nodded, but rolled my eyes as expected. My sisters had joined the school in March, as planned. It was May now, nine days to prom and ten days to graduation. It was my first day, and I was shocked. It seemed nobody had noticed my sisters. Yet, they noticed me immediately.
“Eric Slythe?” the teacher’s voice broke unpleasantly, distracting me yet again.
“Here.” The voice that answered was smooth and deep. It sent shivers down the spine of every slightly feminine person in the room, including me. Eric ran a slender hand through his scruffy brown hair, which fell into his eyes just slightly. He was the president’s adorable step-son, cleverly disguised as an average high school student. He looked at me out of the corners of his eyes and winked. Flushing, I turned back to my drawing. Picking up my charcoal pencil, I went back to shading stormy gray eyes. I jumped as a folded piece of paper flew through my curtain of hair, bouncing to a stop on my desk. I peered over at the subject of my sketch. Eric smiled.
' Did you just start here?'
His lettering was neat and blocking. I smiled at him hesitantly.
' I started today, but my sisters have been here since Spring Break.'
I inspected my slanty, curly writing, then flicked the note back to him.
' Cool. What are you drawing?'
My pencil hovered over the paper for a few seconds before I responded.
'Someone I want to get to know.'
I watched his face carefully. When he shot me a puzzled glance, I flashed my sketch. A bright smile spread across his face.
' Here’s your chance. Want to compare schedules?'
I thought about it for maybe a second.
'Sure'.
I passed him my schedule because I already knew what he was about to tell me. He confirmed my suspicion quickly.
'They’re exactly the same! Maybe I could be your guide? And you could eat lunch with me and my friends?'
I looked at him and was easily swayed by the hope in his eyes.
'That would be nice.'
“Rose!” the teacher tossed the marker to me. I caught it effortlessly.
“Sure.” I got up, straightening my dress. All eyes were on me as I ghosted up to the board. I took a quick look at the problem.
Solve for x
7x+8=-49x+16
I didn’t even have to think to answer the problem.
X= -7
My writing was big enough for the class to see but small enough to not seem self-conscious. There was instant applause.
“Correct.” The teacher sounded pleasantly surprised.
“Of course.” I tried to sound offended, but ended up sounding amused. I tossed the marker back. Walking at a snail’s pace, I went back to my desk. As soon as I sat down, Anna poked me in the shoulder. She passed me a note; I sighed. Her writing was a careless, barely legible scrawl.
'Who’s the hunk?'
I almost laughed.
' Eric. If you can’t figure it out, I won’t tell you.'
I watched her. Anna’s mouth twitched into a frown. She scrawled a quick retort.
' Whatevs. Compare schedules?'
I already knew that first hour would be the one and only class we had in common. It had better be. My one and only stipulation for taking that mission had been was that I was made to spend as little time with her as possible. Being of the female persuasion, I still had a bit of a grudge. Actually, I had a huge grudge. Anna’s mouth tightened into a thin, pale line. She passed me back my schedule, but Anna never wrote back. I started to smirk, and Lisa poked me in the back with a sharply creased note. She tossed it over my shoulder. If this kept up I’d have detention and a cramp in my hand.
'He wants you.'
I blinked at her smooth cursive, puzzled.
' I’m a girl and he’s a teenage guy. Of course he does.'
As I passed the note back to Lisa under our desks, our fingers brushed lightly. A rush of curious longing and lust swept through me. It happened again as Lisa passed the note back.
'That’s what he feels.'
Lisa radiated a happy confusion. Thankfully the bell rand sharply. I waved away my sisters, wanting to be alone with Eric. He offered me his hand so he could help me up, then didn’t let go.
“Now let’s get you settled in ma’am.” Eric drawled in a horrible southern accent. I giggled.
“Why thank you sir.” My accent was much better. I’d absorbed it from the population of the South during the Civil War, but there was no need to tell him that. Eric made sure I had my book bag, then pulled me after him. We breezed through the hallway, saying hello to the popular kids. Eric was definitely high school royalty, being the star quarterback and all.
“I like your dress.” One of the girls said. Her eyes flicked down to notice Eric’s hand in mine.
“Thanks.” I nodded graciously. My dress was simply cut with a square neckline. It had thick, offset sleeves and fell to my knees. The material was loose and flowy, a deep forest green. My strappy heels were a rich brown. The clips that held my hair half up were the same wood bark color as my shoes.
“Sure.” She popped her bubblegum, blonde curls bouncing. Judging by the amount of obsessive followers she had, she was the queen bee. Eric said hi, and then pulled me along.
“Eric.” A sultry purr came from in front of us. I had been wrong in my original hasty assessment of the little school’s queen. The girl who stood in front of us had straight copper hair and fierce green eyes. She was wearing a tube-top that bared a perfectly tanned midriff and a short skirt that was just long enough to cover the panty line. She had on high red screw-me hooker heels and a series of blingy bracelets on her wrists. Her posse was twice the size of the blonde’s. She must have been the queen bee or else there was a lot more students in the school than they told us.
Why do they always have to be red-heads? I wondered, sincerely curious why all the people I ended up having to go against always had red hair.
“Alicia.” Eric said coolly. Her gaze slid down to take in our linked hands. I saw cold fury flash in her eyes. She walked right up to Eric, rubbing against his chest and nibbling on his ear.
“Let’s blow and I’ll do some blowing of my own I’m sure you’ll enjoy.” Her hands crawled down toward his belt. Mortified, I tried to let go of Eric. He held on tighter.
“Alicia, how many times do I have to tell you it’s over?” Eric asked congenially. Her mouth twitched into a frown. The first bell rang, but the students gathered around us stayed put.
“Sweetie, you’ll never be over me. Especially if you move on to cheap, sleazy, tacky hos.” She said pleasantly. Though she didn’t look at me, we could all tell the comment was directed at me. It hurt, though I’d thought myself immune. My vision fuzzed red.
“Rose is the most beautiful, innocent girl I’ve ever met. And I’d rather chop off my hand than ever touch your filthy, slimy skin again. Who knows how many diseases crawl on you now?” Eric sneered. I wanted to laugh, to hug him, to hit Alicia. They conflicting emotions kept me silent. The tardy bell rang and everybody ran off. Eric pulled me down the hall. We burst into a class full of seniors in the middle of a heated argument about whether Anne Rice was better than Brian Lumley.
“Glad you could join us, Mr. Slythe, Ms…” the teacher probed for my name. He seemed decent, but his eyes strayed from my face. Annoyed, I pulled out my best friend- sarcasm.
“Rose Sanford, at your service.” I dropped into a perfect curtsy. My classmates laughed, Eric easily discernable.
“Okay, keep the alphabetical and move people. Everybody to the right of Slythe and back, move a seat to your right. Slythe included.” The teacher ordered. There was a little noise as the students moved. Eric moved too, leaving me up front by myself.
“I assume I’m taking the empty seat?” I chimed pleasantly. My smile was sweet.
“Just sit down.” He sighed. My light step combined with a jaunty bow made the class crack up again. I plopped into my seat and smiled. The teacher turned back to the board. Sighing, I pulled a bottle out of my bag. Earlier, when Alicia had insulted me, the bloodlust had raged inside me. I could only be thankful nobody had seen my eyes flash that brilliant, fiery red. I popped open the bottle. Sipping from it, I forced down the lukewarm liquid.
“There are no drinks allowed in my class.” the teacher made a move for my bottle. I snatched it away quickly.
“You wouldn’t want me to die now, would you?” I asked innocently, fluttering my eyelashes. The teacher raised his eyebrows quizzically, and Eric flashed me a worried glance. I handed off a doctor’s note. It explained my ‘disease’, one I needed a certain liquid for. I really didn’t know the specifics, and I really didn’t care.
“Alright, but only if you answer one question.” The teacher taunted.
“Okay.” I agreed cautiously.
“What’s the name of the president’s son?” he asked. All I can say is that second hour was too early for proper brains.
“Which one?” It rushed out my mouth without any thought. The color drained out of the teacher’s face like someone had pulled a plug. A confused whisper circled throughout the room. I covered my mouth with a slender, delicate hand. Eric, face void of all emotion, gestured at the door impassively.
“Ms. Sanford, Mr. Slythe, please follow me to the principal’s office.” The teacher commanded. As I stuffed my notebook back in my bag, the whisper became a murmur. When the door closed behind us, the murmur became a practical shout.
“What are we doing?” I asked. They both ignored me.
“What do you want me to do?” Eric asked monotonously.
“You know what to do. Sign her out. Take your car, not hers. Get back here by lunch. Employ whatever means necessary.” The teacher’s last words sent a chill down my spine.
“And you?” Eric asked.
“I have to do damage control.” The teacher turned. I spoke as he grasped the doorknob.
“Wait! You didn’t tell me your name!” I knew panic was wild in my eyes. Lisa would worry about me if I went missing.
“Special Agent Mark Downham, at your service.” He bowed deeply, the winked at me and disappeared back into the classroom. Eric grabbed my hand, but that offered me little comfort. He dragged me through the halls to the attendance office. He shared a meaningful glance with the secretary, then we were out of the building and walking through the brisk, cool spring air. The car we stopped in front of was slightly less flashy than mine. It was a sparkly sports car with a convertible top and flame red paint. It was every teenage boy’s dream car.
“Get in.” Eric opened my door for me. I slid in. There was enough room for even Eric’s 5’7” frame. The car was full of Eric’s scent, a shivery cinnamon and something else I didn’t recognize, something that tugged at my mind. The car screeched out of the parking lot. I buckled my seat belt. Though I would survive if we crashed, and not even be injured for long, I didn’t want to blow my cover. Somebody would ask questions.
Just then it hit me. What I smelled, the scent that teased my senses, was Eric’s blood. It was the smell of blood that thrummed with silent power. Blood that called to me, begging to be free of its prison.
“Are you okay?” Eric asked, glancing over at me.
“I-” I was choking on the air. My fangs slid out, lethal and sharp as needles. The yearning to bury them in Eric’s neck turned my vision red as well as my eyes. I quickly shut them, hoping to keep Eric from noticing the change.
“We’re almost there. Five minutes, okay?” the car sped up. I shook my head frantically.
“Eric!” My voice was slurred, but powerful with the strength of the bloodlust.
“I’m pulling over now.” he told me. The brakes screeched, sounding like he was on a dirt road. My heart beat furiously in my chest. I couldn’t let him see me like this, mission or no. I couldn’t let him know I wasn’t normal. That could be bad.
“No!” I gasped. He looked over at me, startled, but yanked open his car door. There was only one way to salvage a situation that would have been deadly- for him. I stilled my breath. My pounding pulse slowed to a standstill. As my vision darkened from red to black, I dimly thanked the lord- if there was one- for my weirdness.
“Rose!” Eric shouted urgently, pulling open my car door. He was the last thing I knew before I finished what I had started and passed out.
*
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The world slowly leaked into the soft nothingness of unconsciousness. I was warm and cold at the same time. The ground pressed against my back, the snow this deep in the woods still mostly untouched. Yet, that wasn’t what had brought me back, no matter how I shivered. No, that award went to the surprisingly warm Eric.
His lips were pressed against mine urgently. He breathed into me, hoping to revive me. Eric’s hand on my chest measured my uneven, barely there breathing. My eyes flew open. I watched him; his eyes were squinched shut and his eyebrows were furrowed. When he started to pull away, I closed my eyes quickly. Eric counted under his breath, breathed in deeply, then leaned back down. When his lips met mine again, I captured his head gingerly between my hands. I kissed him and he kissed me back for a little bit. Without warning he jerked back.
“Eric.” I said unevenly. I reached for him, but he backed away.
“No.” He answered my plea harshly. Anger and resentment flooded through me.
“Why?” I asked softly. When I looked up at him through wet eyelashes, I saw he was staring off into thin air.
“What?” he inquired slowly, as if he had misunderstood.
“Why not? Am I not pretty enough? Not smart enough? Do I not wear enough makeup? Are my clothes too loose, not slutty enough? What? What’s wrong with me? I’ve seen you watch me in the White House. So why won’t you kiss me? Give me a reason! I’ll be anyone, anything. Just tell me!” My anger turned into sadness, and tears fell from my eyes. The act seemed so real. Eric looked at me with feverish eyes.
“No! You’re perfect.” his voice hitched.
“Then why?” I sobbed. Eric pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my hair.
“You always look so untouchable. So far above the rest of us. When I saw you for the first time, you seemed so detached, amused by the way the rest of us live. Your sisters always follow you around like they worship you. When they came to school and you didn’t, I thought you must be in college. Then you showed up today, and I just felt drawn to you. Maybe it was the way you acted with the teachers, or the way you drew me perfectly. You just seem so out of my league. You’re- flawless. I doubt you’ve ever done anything wrong. I’ve done so many things I’m not proud of.” Eric’s voice broke several times, and sometimes he would stop, searching for the right word. I felt something warm drip into my hair. It took me only a second to realize he was crying. My face, previously buried against his shoulder, was stained with tears of my own. I looked up slowly, cautiously. When he only leaned in closer, I kissed him tentatively.
“I’ve done bad things too.” I whispered. It seemed to snap Eric out of his trance-like state.
“Sure. Now how do you know who I am?” he asked sweetly. Eric tilted his head a little so some of his floppy brown hair fell into his eyes endearingly. My heart flip-flopped, something niggling at the edges of my brain. I brushed it away impatiently.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I tried for ignorance and failed miserably. My voice was even, but I looked away as I spoke.
“I guess I’ll have to make you tell me.” Eric smiled impishly.
“Try me.” I dared him bravely. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and shivers of electricity crackled in my veins.
“Oh, I will.” he murmured, bending a little to brush his lips along my collarbone. I hissed in a breath, then relaxed.
“It won’t work!” my voice squeaked on the last word. Eric had nipped the skin at the hollow of my throat.
“Please tell me.” he whispered, lips brushing my ear.
“Can’t.” I breathed. Eric kissed my neck where my pulse beat strongest. A bolt of energy paralyzed me. He kissed his way up to the corner of my mouth, where he stopped. When he spoke, his lips moved against mine in a way that wasn’t quite a kiss but wasn’t exactly not one either.
“Please, Rose.” he begged again. I broke.
“My name isn’t really Rose. It’s Shadow. Anna and Lisa aren’t my sisters, and their real names are Lunnette and Anfanasia. We’re all agents, assassins. Together, we’re the Black Roses. We kill people the military can’t.” the words flew from my mouth as planned. I searched Eric’s expressive face for an answer. The corners of his mouth twitched, then he broke out laughing.
“Wow. You must be a writer with an imagination like that!” he rested his forehead against mine.
“Yeah.” I laughed uneasily.
“So, really now, how did you know?” Eric was still smiling. Without his lips on my skin, I could finally think clearly. The lie came easily.
“I’m one of the daughters of vice president Sanford.” I shrugged.
“That makes sense.” Eric sighed, relieved.
“Yep.” I smiled at him. He looked down at me, eyes darkening. Reflexively I reached up, curling my arms around his neck. I kissed him softly. Eric shivered, then relaxed like I had only moments ago. Warmth spread over me, like sinking into a warm bath. My knees and hands, which I’d scraped getting up, stopped stinging. The bloodlust flared more violently than ever. Instinct took over, leaving me breathless. I pushed on Eric gently so we fell to the forest floor. I kissed my way down until his pulse beat for me, beat against my lips like his heart was in his throat. My fangs grazed his skin, sending a bolt of shivery sweet, almost painful pleasure racing over my skin.
I jerked back violently. Scrabbling backwards, I slumped against a tree. My hands flew up to cover my face. I cried quietly, genuinely. A rustling of leaves alerted me to Eric’s movement. His hand was on my knee moments later.
“Rose?” his voice wavered.
“Can you get me some of the bottles out of my bag?” I begged, voice muffled by my hands. Eric’s footsteps were heavy. I heard the door of the car open. Bottles clinked, then Eric was back again. He’d brought my whole bag over. I gulped down the first bottle, then the next. I finally slowed down at the seventh or eighth bottle. Then I just sipped at the liquid, trying not to look at Eric.
“What are you?” he questioned warily. A choked laugh forced its way out.
“Nobody knows.” I smothered the sobs that clawed at my throat.
“Um, so I guess you weren’t kidding about the whole assassin thing.” he ventured.
“Of course I was. We help kids who have powers beyond the ordinary. We help them learn control. Oh gosh!” I thumped myself on the forehead, astonished by my stupidity.
“What?”
“That’s your power. Healing! That’s why the scrapes healed. you’re strong, too. That’s why I couldn’t control myself.” I shook my head.
“How did you know I’m different?” Eric snapped. I blinked at him, confused.
“It’s my job. Plus I, um, sorta smelled it.” I said in a small voice, shrugging.
“How did you know I’m not a psychic vampire or something? Something bad? How did you know I wouldn’t hurt you?” he asked desperately.
“You’ve hurt people before.” I probed gently. Even healers could do wrong, if their wound was fatal. They’d have a few extra minutes, but where they might’ve had days to live, they died after those extra minutes of perfect health were over.
“Yes.” I almost didn’t hear his response. Eric wouldn’t look at me.
“Not on purpose.”
“How do you know that?”
“You can’t do something like that on purpose until you learn to control it. It slipped. That happens, even to me.” I reassured him softly.
“Can you teach me how to control it?” he asked. The hope contained in that tentative smile reminded me of what I was there for.
“Of course.”
“Thank you.” he looked into my eyes, sincerely grateful.
“Like I said, it’s my job.” I looked away, fidgeting.
“Okay. We have to go. I’m supposed to get you back by lunch.” Eric abruptly grabbed my hand, helping me to my feet. He didn’t let go once I was standing.
“You’re not afraid of me?”
“No.”
“Oh.” I got in the car. Eric shut my door gently, then rushed to get in behind the wheel.
“So why don’t you explain what you are? As much as you know.” he qualified, backing out onto the road carefully.
“Um, okay. My parents are vampires.”
“So you’re a dhampir.”
“My mother was not human.” I protested.
“Okay, okay.” he would’ve held his hands up if he wasn’t driving.
“The thing is, I don’t have any of their weaknesses.”
“Can you touch a cross?”
“Do you have one?”
“Here.” Eric pulled a silver chain off his neck. It had a thick, dented cross on it. I took it in my hand, closing my fingers over it. Then I handed it back, skin still flawless.
“I can obviously go out in the sun without getting extra crispy. I could drink holy water if I had a mind too. Oh, and I can roll around in garlic if I don’t mind losing a few friends.”
“What about a stake through the heart?” judging by his cautious tone, he knew it was a dangerous question.
“Well, that would kill anybody.” I avoided answering skillfully.
“So that’s it? what about the super strength and all that?”
“I’m strong, fast, and can see and the dark. And I have a few other things vampires don’t.”
“Like what?”
“A pulse.”
“Really?” Eric asked doubtfully.
“Give me your hand.” I ordered. I pressed his hand to my chest. My heart beat harder, and I knew he could feel it.
“How old are you?” Eric asked, snatching his hand back.
“Seventeen.” I told the truth. What did it matter when I had been ordered to tell him my deepest, darkest secrets?
“How long have you been seventeen?” he asked warily. Cliché much? I thought, amused.
“Two and a half months.”
“Oh.” he breathed, relieved.
“Um-“ I tried to find the right way to phrase the sentence.
“Um what?”
“See, that’s the other thing. I get to choose my age.” I finally spat out.
“Bull.” Eric snorted.
“Is not!”
“Then prove it.”
“Pick an age.” I answered, resigned. Changing quickly burned a lot of energy, so I gulped down another bottle.
“Thirty- seven.” he said smugly.
“Alright. Just don’t freak out. And whatever you do, pay attention to the road!” I warned. I blocked out the world and drew out my power. A seething black mist oozed from my skin. Roiling, it enshrouded me, protecting me from being seen as I changed. My body shifted, bones moving a little, skin boiling. When the mist cleared. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably.
“Holy-“ the car swerved. Eric barely got control of it before we ran off the road. I understood his sentiment completely when I flipped down the mirror. It had been a while since I had been this old, almost a thousand years. My skin was a little more pale, my eyes a little darker, and my hair was longer, softer, and even more wildly untamable than it had been. I was about five seven, tops. The most noticeable change though was my chest, where I had grown the most. My dress was strained and fit to burst, and if I took a deep breath my girls were likely to pop out.
“Can I change back now? And didn’t I tell you to keep your eyes on the road?” I asked irritably. Eric jumped like a startled rabbit and glued his eyes to the pavement.
“Um, yeah.” he swallowed hard. The black mist seeped out again.
“That’s better.” I sighed happily, seventeen again. My head throbbed. I’d completely drained all the energy I had left. I drank a few more bottles. Abstractly, I remember worrying that I only had three bottles left, and I’d started out the day with twenty. At that moment we pulled up to the school. The bell rang as Eric pocketed his keys.
“I understand if you don’t want to sit with me at lunch anymore.” Eric looked away as he spoke. I had to choke down a laugh.
“Hey, Rose! You should ditch fourth and fifth with us.” It was Anna, dragging Lisa behind her. Her eyes flicked down and anger sparked in her eyes. I noticed that, without my knowledge, my hand had somehow become entwined with Eric’s again.
“I have a previous engagement.” I smiled up at Eric. His responding smile was slow and intimate.
“Rose, we need to talk.” Lisa said urgently. I felt her probing with her powers and deliberately blocked my mind. Even though I couldn’t feel her emotions, her wide eyes and open face showed her hurt. I pulled away from her, leaning back against Eric.
“Ready to get lunch?” Eric asked, blessedly oblivious.
“Sure.” I turned my back on my sisters. We didn’t get very far before we were interrupted again.
“Hey Eric. Who’s the new hottie?” a big, husky boy slapped his butt. Eric scowled, then laughed.
“Steve, this is Rose. Rose, this is my friend Steve.” Eric introduced us happily.
“Nice to meet you Steve.” I held my hand out politely. Steve chuckled and shook my hand firmly. His hand was almost twice the size of mine and surprisingly soft.
“I’m starving. You coming to get food or you going to keep pussyfooting around with Rose here?” Steve asked. Eric looked to me. I nodded, laughing. The cafeteria was easy to find because everybody was flocking in that direction. We cut right to the front of the line, the boys being football stars and all. They loaded their trays, but I just grabbed a root beer.
“Okay, you are too thin to not at least get a salad.” Steve protested. Eric shot me an alarmed look. All I can say is; human food in a stomach designed for liquid is not pretty.
“Oh, I can’t. I have some weirdo disease. I can only eat once a day. But thanks for worrying.” I waved the issue away demurely.
“No problem. he smiled charmingly. He was cute. I’d have to make sure he met Lisa.
“We’re going to sit there?” I squeaked, shocked. Three tables were shoved together in the middle of the room. They were populated by the jocks, the cheerleaders, and the ever present hangers-on looking for fame by association. We were headed there.
“Yep. Move.” Eric tapped on the shoulders of three freshman would-be’s. The boys laughed it off, but the girl was distraught. She turned, flustered, and almost dumped her food on me. I had to execute some fancy footwork to keep my dress clean. My body moved elegantly, supple and well-trained.
“Wow. You should try out for the cheerleaders’ graduation presentation.” one of the tiny sophomores whistled.
“Sorry. Tryouts are this afternoon. Rose is hardly dressed for it.” Alicia’s voice was full of icily controlled rage. She poked the shoulder of the offending sophomore, who squeaked and ran out of the building.
“I don’t think I really fit in here.” I murmured to Eric.
“Are you kidding me? You can pull rank until you gain respect.” Eric chuckled. I flushed.
“Pull rank? I’m a senator’s daughter.” Alicia sneered.
“So is she. The only difference is her dad is the vice president.” Eric retorted easily. The color drained out of Alicia’s face.
“She’s not dressed for tryouts.” Alicia pulled what she thought was a trump card. By now most of the cafeteria was quiet as students listened to our argument. I struggled with my conscience, pushing it down forcefully. Then I pulled out my phone and dialed a quick number. The cafeteria was then dead silent, so I put the phone on speakerphone. Might as well give them a good show.
“Hi daddy.” I spoke with the authority of one born to power.
“What’s up, sweetheart?” he sounded curious and concerned, but I wondered why I was the only one who could see through it when it was so obviously faked.
“Can you bring me shorts and a tee?” I questioned, crossing my fingers and biting my lip like I wasn’t sure if he would.
“Sure. What’s the occasion?”
“I’m going to try out for the varsity cheerleaders’ graduation presentation.”
“Try out? My daughter’s going to try out? Put the principal on the phone!” he roared. The principal was at my side in an instant.
“She’s here, daddy. You’re on speakerphone.” I told him calmly.
“Ms. Monroe. You plan on making my daughter try out like a common ditzy blonde?” My father raged.
“That is school procedure.” the principal said timidly.
“Stuff your ‘procedure’. My daughter will be on the squad, and she will not try out like an average cretin.” his voice calmed too much, getting dangerously low.
“Yes sir. She can watch the other girls try out and-”
“Watch? She’ll decide. Rose is now the captain of the varsity cheerleading squad. Ms. Monroe, remember who funds your school.” the phone went dead. A frenzied whispering sprang up in the cafeteria as hasty bets were placed as to what Ms. Monroe would do.
“We’ll have a captain’s uniform ready for you by practice time. Alicia, you are relieved of your duties as captain of the varsity cheerleading squad.. Congratulations Rose.” the principal rushed off. There was just a second of silence, then an enraged scream.
“You stuck-up whore! You stole my boyfriend and now you think you can steal my squad? You’ll regret this. I’ll make your time here hell!” Alicia shrieked. She lunged forward and dragged her nails down my cheek. I stumbled back, falling against Eric. He went rigid, his whole body vibrating with a furious tension.
“Get out.” he commanded. Eric’s voice rang powerful in the silence, full of anger.
“Sure, sure, pretty boy. Are you always going to fight her battles?” Alicia hissed. Her catty followers gasped. Based on their expressions, Little Miss Perfect wasn’t going to have many friends the next day.
“I fight my own battles. But, you see, it’s not really a battle. This is a petty attack from a girl who decided a silver spoon in her mouth just wasn’t enough. All I see is a girl with no self-confidence and an unfortunate tendency to throw up everything she dares to put in her mouth. So go ahead, threaten me. Destroy every ounce of respect anybody at this school had for you. Because, and I don’t think you understand this, but I actually appreciate my friends. I like to work for what I have. I may be the daughter of a vice president. My mother may be a senator. But do you think my life was easy? Do you think I got everything I wanted? How would you like knowing your mother died giving birth to you? Living with that fact your whole life? How about living with someone who’s only three years older than you but wants to replace your mother? Sweetie, other people have problems. A lot of them are bigger than yours. And not everybody thinks you’re all that. Some of us see past your supercilious attitude to the bratty, insecure girl you really are. How do you expect us to like you if you’re so full of yourself? You need to get over yourself honey because- newsflash- the rest of us already have.” I interjected as much passion as I could into everything but the last sentence. The last I delivered with a sweet smile.
Alicia stood frozen. She didn’t cry or rage like I thought she would. She took it all, then turned and stormed out. Though her back was straight, she watched the floor. Judging by her stony expression before she turned, she wouldn’t be bothering me anytime soon. As she left, Eric clapped his hands together. The other students joined, creating a slow quiet applause that quickly reached a deafening crescendo. Everybody clapped for me. I blushed and dropped into a grateful curtsey.
“Nice.” Steve clapped me on the back. Apparently, this was the signal for the others to jump up and congratulate me. I got hugged, kissed on the cheek, and clapped on the back. even several of the teachers came up to me, shaking my hand vigorously. Agent Downham was one of them.
“That girl has had that coming for years. By the way, you get that business taken care of?” he searched my gaze.
“Mr. Smith, meet Rose Sanford, the vice president’s daughter.” Eric raised his eyebrows. I almost laughed. Mr. Smith’s branch of the government was definitely not as creative as mine.
“Well, congratulations Miss Sanford.” Mr. Smith clapped me on the shoulder and left.
“Rose Sanford ladies and gents!” Eric took my hand and pulled it above my head. I smiled as they cheered. Eric grinned at me, and my heart stuttered. Lisa came up to hug me. She jumped into my arms, drugged delirious by the ecstatic happiness of all the empowered teens. I opened myself to her, and Lisa practically cried with happiness. Steve smiled at her and she regarded him silently for a moment before kissing him soundly, to his great surprise and pleasure.
As I laughed, I realized something. In twenty minutes, I’d become the most popular girl in school. Rose, the outsider, the mysteriously beautiful and dark girl with a smart mouth. The stranger who had joined their graduating class with only ten days left. Now the quarterback’s new fascination and the previous queen bee’s worst enemy. And captain of the varsity cheerleading squad, new queen bee, instantly loved. Or so I thought, surrounded by happy faces. Eric lifted and spun me. I laughed uproariously, but immediately sobered when I saw an unhappy face.
She was beautiful, but her features were marred by doubt and anger. The girl’s full mouth was twisted into a scowl. It was refreshing to see someone show their feelings so blatantly. Of course, it wasn’t as good to know they were directed at me. That was a little depressing. Then I realized who the girl glaring daggers at me was. It was Anna. I scowled back at her, remembering all the things she had done to me. I looked down at Eric and finally gave in to that niggling in my find and realized why he looked so familiar. He looked like William. I shook my head firmly to clear my mind. History wouldn’t repeat itself. It was my solemn promise. I would rather die than break it.
Yet, I couldn’t help but look at Eric with hope in my eyes. I almost forgot why I was there. Almost forgot that in nine days, he’d either be caged or dead. Almost.