Children of the Night, You're Grounded: Vampire Primes Short Story Read online

  "I don't get jealous."

  "I know. That's why I love it that you are. It means you care." He brushed his lips across hers. "That you care about what I did even before you were born. That you care about me. You are the only person who ever has."

  She'd looked dreamy and pleased, but frowned at this last bit, and tilted her head sarcastically.

  "All right, my mother and sister cared, but I didn't know that, did I?"

  Eden caressed his cheek. "My bondmate, the gigolo."

  "Former," he reminded her. He glanced at the data filled screens. "Too bad the evidence of my former profession will soon be available for all to see. Not that I am ashamed of giving a great many women a great deal of pleasure - without actually killing any of them. Why do you mortals enjoy sex scandals, anyway? Your guilt issues are not ours. Vampires do not have sexual inhibitions. And when we find our true bondmate we never stray again."

  Eden pushed her chair back a few inches. "Be that as it may, my love," she said. "What we mortals do have is a talent for collecting data."

  "And gossiping about it," he complained.

  "True." Confusion crossed her face, as her voice touched his mind, Everyone can be affected by psychic energy.

  One way or another. Some more than others, Laurent thought back. Eden had no actual telepathic talent, but the bond which had developed between them let her communicate with him. It gave her a headache, so they didn't practice this intimacy very often.

  "Enough of that," she said, having proved her point.

  "Can I get you an aspirin? A drink? There's one in Mike's desk drawer, the other in Cathy's."

  "And chocolate in Harry's," Eden added.

  They were alone in the large main room of the office. Occasionally a phone rang on one of the other desks, automatically forwarding to voicemail. All of their co-workers, werewolves every one, were out on various assignments. Laurent and Eden were supposed to be doing the same. There were people who needed their help, and were willing to pay for it. Rachelle Burke was a total, unprofitable, distraction.

  "We need to get rid of her quickly," Eden said.

  "My thoughts exactly. Ethically," he added at Eden's warning look. "But it's okay to steal her data, right?"

  "If possible. She's probably has everything stored on the Cloud. I doubt I can hack that."

  "Are you fibbing to get me to use the proper channels for my problems?"

  "Yes. But I'm not really a hacker, as you well know."

  "But the Corbetts are, right? For a hideous price."

  "Lady Juanita has them on retainer. I'm sure the Matri owes you a few favors."

  Laurent recalled the telepathic message the Matri dropped into his head earlier. "If she doesn't now, I'm sure she will sometime," Laurent told his beloved.

  "We need to distract Burke. If you can't make her forget about vampires, maybe we can get her interested in something else."

  "Yes," Laurent agreed. "But what could be more interesting than vampires?"

  The Cafeteria Kiosk was the most popular spot at school. It was an eight-sided building set in the center of the campus. Hot food, cold sandwiches and salads were available inside. Vending machines were set around the outside walls. Rows of picnic tables, some set under umbrellas, radiated out from the kiosk. There were always some kids scattered at the tables, eating, studying, talking. Right now the seating area was crowded with lunch hour traffic, noisy with talk and laughter in the warm midday sunlight.

  Ariadne and Cheetah brought their trays out of the kiosk to see Brin and Cammie waving at them from one of the umbrella tables. Their friends knew they weren't fond of noon sunlight. They used to be teased for wearing wide-brimmed hats when outside, but they'd managed to turn this into a fashion statement. It was now Twins-Style, emulated by lots of other girls at school.

  "What is that?" Brin asked when Cheetah sat beside her and put her tray on the table.

  "Hamburger," Cheetah. "Need plenty of protein if I'm going to be running this afternoon."

  "I count four burgers," Brin said.

  "But only one bun. That makes it a single hamburger." She glanced her twin's way. "Doesn't it, Ari?"

  "It certainly does," Ariadne replied. She swept her gaze around the table, exerting a bit of mental energy. "We Wolfs all have high metabolisms."

  "I'm having salad," Cammie said. "And I'm running too." She took a sip from a straw stuck in a tall plastic glass. "And a smoothie," she said around her drink.

  "Sugar, protein, it's all good," Ariadne said. She glanced pityingly at Cammie's salad. Ariadne had tried being a vegetarian once, for a few days. The outcome had been that she'd had hallucinations about draining people of their blood, and had very nearly attacked Brin's Yorkie when the little dog barked at her. She'd managed to down a quart of medicated blood before anyone got hurt, and concluded that some mortal behaviors really were impossible for vampires.

  Everyone put their cellphones on the table in front of them, as they always did at lunch. Of course they weren't supposed to have phones at school, or at least leave them turned off and in their lockers during class hours. It was not a rule which got paid a lot of attention to. Sometimes a teacher might try to enforce it, which was why the phones came out at lunch and everyone at a table watched each other's backs while they used their devices.

  Cheetah pointed at the iPhone in a pink case in front of Cammie. "You found your phone?"

  "Rick helped me find it," Cammie said, smiling dreamily.

  "Rick?" Ariadne asked. She shared a jealous glance with Cheetah. Why did it always have to be Cammie getting the attention of the cutest males.

  "Rick and I sneaked back into the graveyard after the sun came up. The phone was on the gravestone next to where I saw--"

  The shadow reared up then, a creature of rolling black smoke. Moaning, it threw itself over Cammie; a hideous, writing blanket.

  The ghost.

  Everyone screamed, and ran. Even the vampire twins.

  When Ariadne got hold of herself in a few moments, she turned to look back at the deserted table.

  There was nothing there, of course.

  She knew she'd felt and seen a ghost. But what she knew couldn't be true, right?

  SDPES stood for San Diego Paranormal Exploration Squad. Or Society. Laurent wasn't sure which was correct. The group was known locally as The Squad, and people made Ghostbusters references about them. What they were was a group of five or six guys whose hobby was trying to prove that ghosts didn't really exist. Except that they kept finding evidence that paranormal phenomena was real. At least they didn't go looking for vampires or werefolk or anything more tangible than disembodied spirits. Laurent didn't find this mortal activity any odder than, say, bowling leagues or Three Stooges conventions.

  He'd met some members of the Squad on his own nighttime rovings around the city and was glad to help them when they came to him with a problem they didn't want the media to get hold of. Being a private investigator, he investigated it for them, privately.

  He sat in a booth across from Brian January, the man in charge of the ghost hunters. It was a busy lunch hour at the diner near the hardware store Brian owned. Brian was a bit of a local celebrity, but this was a place where no one paid much attention to him. He was a big, red-haired guy, balding, with a bit of a paunch.

  The mortal had a caesar salad in front of him. Laurent worked with gusto on a meatloaf sandwich and a huge mound of fries. It was nice not having to worry about cholesterol and all those mortal diseases. Then again, mortals didn't have to worry about exploding into a fireball in bright sunlight should the daylight drug medicine suddenly stop working.

  They ate in silence. Laurent waited until he finished the last ketchup slathered fry on his plate before he said, "Good news or bad news first?"

  Brian put down his fork. "Good."

  "I found out that your colleague Dean isn't actually missing. He wasn't kidnapped by a ghost."

  "I know that. Ghosts don't kidnap people, or hold the
m for ransom or anything fun like that. Where is he?"

  "He is, in fact, on a month long cruise with his wife."

  Brian did not look as if this was good news. "Dean can't afford something like that."

  "Yes. Well. That's where the bad news comes in." Laurent waited for the waitress to pour him a fresh cup of coffee before he continued. "Dean pawned all your missing equipment to pay for the cruise."

  Brian looked disappointed, but not surprised. "And the van?"

  "Found it on a not so reputable used car lot. Do you want me to turn this info over to the police?"

  Brian looked into his bowl as though asking the advice of what was left of his salad. Finally, he sighed and looked at Laurent. "I don't want to get Dean into trouble. I don't want bad publicity for the group, either," he admitted.

  Laurent shook his head. "You need to get your stuff back. And Dean needs to be held responsible."

  When did I get to be so self-righteous, Laurent wondered.

  "Why would Dean rip us off?" Brian wondered. "I know his wife was fed up with his going out with us all the time, but--"

  "I think you answered your own question. The man had to choose between his hobby and his marriage. I'd go with saving my marriage."

  "So would I, if I was married," said Brian. "But I wouldn't steal from my friends to do it." He slapped a large hand down on the table top. "We need that equipment."

  "I know," Laurent answered. "That's why the van, with all the ghost hunting gear, is parked outside."

  Brian's head jerked toward the door, then he looked back at Laurent. He was wide-eyed with surprise. "You--but--why--?"

  Laurent held up a hand to silence the spluttering ghost hunter. "No charge," he added. "I'll be presenting the bill to Dean when he gets back."

  And Dean would be happy to pay up. Laurent had learned to accept responsibility for his actions. He was happy to pass the lesson along.

  For a moment the surprised Brian looked close to tears, but he manned up and said, "I owe you big time for this, bro."

  Laurent nodded. "Pay for lunch. Then let's go get your stuff."

  Laurent put on sunglasses and a billed cap before stepping out into the midday sunlight. It wasn't a cool look for him, but sunlight poured down from the sky and reflected up from a the white sand of a nearby beach. It was enough to give him serious eyestrain, but not enough for him to miss the sight of Rachelle Burke standing on the sidewalk outside the building.

  He was surprised when she walked up to him and asked, "Why aren't you on fire?"

  He looked the young woman over head to toe and got her to blush before he answered, "While I find you very attractive I am a happily married man. I don't burn for just anyone."

  She blushed deeper. "You know what I mean." Her embarrassed gaze shifted from Laurent, to Brian who stepped forward.

  Laurent noted that the mortal man was standing straight, with his gut sucked in. Not that he had that much of a gut, his heftiness was made up for by intelligence, niceness and charisma. A girl could do worse than--

  Hmmm...

  "Brian January, this is Rachelle Burke," Laurent introduced the couple.

  "I've heard of you," they both said. And laughed. And shook hands.

  Laurent noted how fingers lingered against fingers before they pulled away. Good. Good.

  "What are you doing with him?" she asked the ghost hunter.

  Laurent caught a hint of protectiveness in her voice, and her psychic energy. He shepherded the couple toward the parking lot. Brian grinned at the sight of the shiny black van waiting in one of the six parking spaces.

  "Keys are inside," Laurent said.

  Brian rushed forward to open the driver's side door. Rachelle followed close behind him. Laurent considered taking this opportunity to run away, but joined them after a few moments. Brian already had a piece of recording equipment in his hand, and was explaining its use to the reporter.

  Laurent tapped the young woman on the shoulder to get her attention. They took a few steps away from the van when he got her attention. "I could get a court order to stop you from stalking me," Laurent said. "I'm sure it can be proven that all those pictures have been photoshopped. You can do good work as a journalist. Don't ruin your reputation."

  "You are threatening me, Wolf."

  "Of course I am," Laurent answered. He held up his hands. They were long-fingered hands that could sprout long and deadly claws should he choose. Which he didn't. "No physical harm will come to you from me. But you are threatening me with your silly accusations. I have a family, a career, a reputation. You don't get to destroy that, Ms. Burke."

  When Laurent turned to walk away, Burke said, "You promised me an interview."

  "Another time."

  "Want to go for a ride along?" Brian called at the same time Laurent spoke.

  Laurent smiled at the ghost hunter. "Which one of us are you asking?"

  "Either," Brian said. He gave a longing look at Burke. "Both."

  "I'd like that," she said.

  "Me, too," Laurent said. He waved casually. "See you."

  Then he was gone, moving with far more speed than either mortal could track.

  "When can we leave?" Caleb Coyote asked, as annoyed as he always was when he came by to pick up Ariadne and Celeste from school.

  "You don't have to be here," Ariadne pointed out to this distant cousin Prime. He didn't look much older than she and Cheetah were, even if he had a dozen years on them, so at least he didn't stick out sitting on the bleachers with her. His bright blue eyes and blond good looks got him plenty of attention, but at least it was only from mortal girls impressed by his Primal beauty.

  Try growing up surrounded by all that male magnificence, Ariadne thought, glancing at the girls taking up the benches around them. It gets lame.

  In the last year or so she and Cheetah had discovered that occasionally flirting with Primes, especially ones who were from different Clans and Families, was a fun diversion at great grandmother's parties. But otherwise, mortal males, with all their quirks and insecurities, were ever so much more interesting than the preening perfection of the Primes.

  Ariadne suspected great grandmother threw Caleb their way. Trying to remind them that their duty, once they came of age, would be to take Primes as lovers and help keep the species going. There used to be a coming of age ceremony when vampire females turned twenty-one and the newly mature girls publicly chose their first lovers from the Primes gathered at the ceremony. Gross.

  As bad as the way females used to keep harems, and let Primes fight each other to join their collection of lovers.

  Great grandmother was offering Caleb to them as a carnal candidate. Not that she'd say so, and Ariadne was pretty sure the young Prime wasn't aware of the Matri's scheming. He probably didn't know anything about all those old customs females were taught about. Of course, females didn't get locked up in creches stuck with horrible drill sergeant Primes until they were tame and civilized enough to be let out in the world. Females didn't have to be.

  It was kind of nice, in an irritating way, that Caleb wasn't any happier being here than they were having him here. Ariadne much preferred the company of mortal males, even with the look don't touch rule she had to abide by.

  Ariadne smiled at Rick, sitting on her other side. Brin was behind her one row up. Nathan sat beside her. Cheetah and Cammie were down on the running track.

  Everything was normal now. Everything was fine. There were no such things as ghosts. At least not at school.

  They'd all drifted back, one by one, to the table where they'd been sharing lunch. They'd gathered their stuff, smiled sheepishly at each other, laughed nervously. Cheetah had even eaten her burger. They agreed it was their imaginations, and went on with their day. Ariadne had run into Cammie in the bathroom late in the school day. The mortal looked like she'd been crying, and there was a mark on her neck she said had appeared after what she called "the shadow incident". Looked more like a vampire bite to Ariadne, which she certa
inly hadn't mentioned to the mortal girl.

  The mark was probably from Cammie fooling around with Rick, Ariadne decided now. Not that this made her bitter. Much.

  She glared at the mortal teenager, but Rick didn't look her way.

  "When is this going to be over?" Caleb asked.

  "After my sister wins her race," Ariadne snapped back.

  He gave her a sarcastic look over the top of his sunglasses. "Of course she's going to win. We might as well leave now."

  "Cheetah plays fair," Ariadne said.

  The Prime snorted. It was best to simply ignore him.

  Ariadne looked around with all her senses, just to make sure no shadows were there that shouldn't be.

  Down on the track the runners were on their marks. The buzzer sounded, and the athletes ran. Legs pumped. Feet slapped the ground. Dust was kicked up. Everyone in the stands, even Caleb, jumped to their feet and yelled.

  When it was over, the winner was -- Cammie.

  "What?!" Ariadne shouted.

  Down on the track, despite the noise from the bleachers, Ariadne's keen ears heard the same shout from her twin. Beside her, Caleb laughed. The Prime's reaction turned her shock to anger.

  "How dare you make fun of my sister?" She shouted at Caleb.

  "How come she lost?" he sneered back. "How could the other girl be better than her?"

  The black shadow rose on a roaring scream before Ariadne could answer.

  The sky went black as the shadow stretched above them. The ghost's howling mouth was a deeper black, the size of a cave. Smoking fingers reached toward the ground.

  Nobody hung around to find out what would happen next.

  Ariadne protested when Caleb grabbed her by the wrist and hurried her down the bleacher steps. Cheetah snarled and snapped at him when they reached her and he grabbed her as well. The Prime protected them whether they wanted it or not. He got them to his car, stuffed them in, and got them home.

  Where something far scarier than a ghost awaited them.

  "Great grandmother says we can't go back to school. What are we going to do if we can't go back?" Cheetah paced from her room, through the shared bathroom, into Ariadne's room and back again. Over and over. Talking the whole time. "She's been waiting for something to happen. She's been hoping for any excuse to lock us up so we'll be safe. Safe from what? We're vampires!"