Double Take - A.J. Cole (classic fiction txt) 📗

he straightened them, and she’d promptly ridden into a bush. Never did relearn the proper way, either, so the handlebars had of necessity been misaligned again and she had ridden it with ease after that.

Cake. Did she eat cake like a normal person? Sure, if eating the cake part while leaving both the filling and the frosting in perfect, untouched condition so that it looked like someone had frosted an invisible cake when she was done could be called “normal.” The frosting would get eaten afterward, but always the filling first, then the side part, and finally the top. It was a bizarre habit, and she didn’t care one bit who thought so.

Ah, corn-on-the-cob. When she was finished eating it, the ear had been neatly and perfectly picked clean, each kernel removed by her using her teeth like a hoe so that their rows were devoid of even a shred of kernelness. Etcetera.

So it made sense that after the dual monster attack – neither of which she should have survived in the first place – she had become neither a vampire, nor a werewolf.

Several minutes after she’d woken up, the man who called himself Vlad (which she was sure he’d made up) told her that every once in a while a human would suffer a double attack like she had, and if that person was kept alive by being turned, the result was a hybrid. Not a cool one like the dude in “Underworld,” but a living creature who only became a vampire on nights of the full moon. The rest of the time, he or she was full-on human but with an unusually keen sense of smell, inhuman speed, and ridiculous strength. “You, my dear,” he’d declared, “are a werepire.”

“A what?” She’d given him a look of utter disbelief and outrage, feeling that once again fate had kicked her in the head and told her it was a just a sinus infection. “Awesome,” she’d said, her sarcasm in high gear. “I’m only a part-time undead creature. All I need now is for a zombie to come by and bite me in the ass, and I’ll have achieved the trifecta of legendary monsterhood – look out, folks! It’s Arissa, the Zombie Werepire! Ahhh!...Crap.”

For some reason, Vlad was pressing his lips together, a small snort escaping. “Come now, my dear,” he’d said with an annoying use of condescending pronouns, “it isn’t all that bad. You can go out in the daylight, you won’t turn into a wolf, but you’ll enjoy the benefits of an insanely long life, increased strength and speed, and when the moon is full, you’ll be able to exact revenge on your enemies while enjoying a liquid supper.”

She’d stared at him in silence for a few seconds, then said, “Is the car fixed?” When she’d first come to, she was lying on the other side of the road and could see his tall, slender form bent over the engine. He’d managed to get the hood latch working, and was doing whatever it was one did to get an engine started, if one knew about car motors. A vampire mechanic? Sheesh.

He told her it was, so she’d gotten back in, preparing to leave. “Oh, yeah, Vlad,” she’d added, making sure the way she’d emphasized his name made it clear she didn’t believe it was his name at all – probably Brad, or maybe Poindexter – “how many of you guys are around?”

“Lots,” he told her with a grin big enough to allow moonlight to glint off one of his fangs. “But see, that’s another advantage you now have, my dear. None of us can harm you. You’re a protected species.”

“Am I, really… Can I have children?”

“Why, yes. If you wish.”

“Not with you, of course. But you can’t father kids anyway, right?”

“Sad but true.”

“Thank goodness for that,” she murmured. Louder, she’d added, “Good. Thanks for fixing the car and for saving my life, I think. And stop calling me ‘my dear.’ I’m not.” She’d closed the door, turned the key, and to her surprise, the engine had started right up. Without another glance in the vampire’s direction, she’d continued her journey home.

Now, standing in the doorway of her apartment and hoping no one had to invite her in before she could cross the threshold, she gazed around at the living room and wondered what didn’t feel right. An experimental toe past the doorframe assured her that the rest of her body could follow without some invisible force shunting her back out into the hall. Relieved, she went in and closed the door.

The sun was up by that time, so she didn’t bother switching on the lights. Not that this made things look any less odd. Was it in fact because she had been so dramatically altered, that her piles of magazines, unwashed cups and plates on the tables, and the occasional undergarment seemed out of place? Okay, she admitted, it was all out of place and needed to get put away, but there was more to it than the obvious. She swept the room with a more critical gaze.

Sofa cushions in place… nope, that wasn’t it. Chairs where she’d left them, tables every bit as dusty and trash-covered… not that, either. Ah. Maybe it was the envelope tacked to the wall leading to her bedroom that she knew darned well she hadn’t put there.

Arissa went to it, noticing as she got closer that the envelope had that fancy onionskin look – fragile, translucent, a mundane red pushpin keeping it in place. Across the font, her name had been written in thin, spidery script.

“Huh. Weird.” Yeah, Riss, like this envelope is unique that way. Nothing else is weird today, is it (she wasn’t asking). Sticking the pin back into the small hole it had made in her wall, she took the envelope to the sofa, shoved aside a pile of towels she’d been planning to fold after school, and sat. The envelope made a satisfying crackle when she pried it open. Inside was a letter on the same paper, and although it was folded, she could see it was covered on both sides by the filigree writing.

“Dear Arissa Martin,” it began. “Welcome to the family.”

She gave the page a look of disbelief. “Are you kidding me?! What the hell is this? The Undead Welcome Wagon? And when did anyone have time to find out what happened to me, write this, and get into my apartment with it before I even got home? Incredible!” She continued reading.

“Few people are aware not only that we exist, but that we have a sophisticated and complex society. This is important for you to know. Vampires have evolved over the centuries, and these days we tend to be more closely-knit as a species. Yes, many would consider us a sub-species, but we have more pride in ourselves than we used to and refuse to accept being degraded like that. We are also close with our werewolf brethren. I call them that because both species are in a category separate and unique from the human race. We help each other, keep our identities a careful secret, and often socialize.

“Through the years, an occasional faux-pas occurs. A vampire will snack on a human, for instance, get distracted and leave for a time, during which a werewolf – unaware that this particular human was already being fed upon – will pause for a nibble. Or the reverse will be true, as occurred in your case. A werewolf was about to make you his main course, but apparently you stopped him after only one bite. Vlad, unaware that your body had been claimed, decided to stop for a quick drink. Because of the nature of both our types, we cannot ingest blood that has been injected with chemicals from each other, you see. So when this happens, we do the only moral thing we can – we mingle the toxins from both species to keep the human somewhat alive, and the result is a werepire. Invariably, the werepire will have what we consider the perfect combination of traits from both species, which I believe Vlad outlined for you.

“Bottom line, dear Arissa, is that you are one of our ‘protected’ members now. You’re special, my dear, and we will do everything we can to help you adjust to your new life, teach you how to feed during the full moon, and keep you safe throughout the remainder of your existence.

“We will be having a meeting of all werepires this Thursday night, and recommend that you come along so you can meet the others like you, and as many members of our community as can attend. You will be contacted within the next few days with the time and place.

“I look forward to seeing you then.

 

“In Blood and In Honor,

Kyria Scarlatis, VP”

 

“Unreal.” She turned the envelope upside down and shook it, her sense of sarcasm making a comeback. “Where are the brochures?” She tossed the letter onto the pile of towels and got up. “Gee, I wonder if they go on moonlight cruises, too. Holy sh – ”

The house phone rang, reminding her that she needed to recharge her cell. “Now what?” she grumbled, going into the kitchen to grab the wireless handset from its cradle on the side of her fax-copier. “Hello.”

“Wow, you sound friendly today.”

Terrific – it’s Mom. “Sorry.”

“I’ve been calling your cell phone for hours, honey. Where have you been?”

“Oh. Well, yeah. My car stalled on the way home from school and my cell ran out of charge.”

“Oh, no! Did you have to have it towed?”

“The cell phone?”

“Very funny, Riss.”

“Right. No, a, um, a man stopped and got the engine started again.” Before her mother could ask any more questions, like where had she been when the car died or who the guy was, or anything else she didn’t feel like answering, she added, “I think I’m going to cut back on my classes so I can get a second job and buy myself a new car. What do you think?”

“I think you’re changing the subject. Never mind – listen, I’d like you to come with us to dinner Thursday night. It’s your cousin Trina’s birthday and we’re going to meet her and her parents at Scales and Feathers.”

Great. Fish and chicken with cousin I’m So Much Prettier Than Everyone Else And Way Smarter Than You. Maybe I can take her with me to meet my new “family.” They’d have her for dinner, all right. “Sorry, mom. Can’t. I have… well, it’s a real important project that has everything to do with me getting through this semester. I’m meeting with the others who are part of it, and if I don’t show up, they won’t be able to get things started and that really wouldn’t be fair. Besides, Trina can always put a mirror on the chair I’d be sitting in; that’ll give her someone intelligent enough to talk to and pretty enough to look at. Just tell her it’s my present to her.” Mom’s gonna flip, Mom’s gonna flip, Mom’s g-

“Arissa Martin! What a horrible thing to say!”

Mom flipped. “Sorry. But for real, I can’t miss this meeting.”

Mrs. Martin heaved a sigh loud enough to be heard in the next room. “Fine. Do what you have to do, Arissa. I understand.”

“I doubt that – you’re still calling me ‘Arissa’.” Where was all this nonchalant boldness coming from? Oh, right. The bite on her neck and the gouge in her shoulder. Although the wounds were healing quickly, the venom they’d contained was not only affecting her physical being, but seemed to be affecting her emotions as well. Maybe her new condition wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Normally, she’d be reduced to defensive burbling by her mother’s disapproval. This time, she didn’t give a flip what the woman thought. “Look, I can’t go. Sorry. Give cousin Trina a hug and wish her a happy birthday for me, okay?”

“Arissa, what’s going on? You don’t sound like yourself.”

“Really? Who do