Freaksville (16 page)

“That wasn’t very nice,” he replies, starting to take my jacket off, like I agreed to do this. Finally giving up on fighting him, I yank it off and throw it at him. “Ow,” is his sarcastic response.

“Why’re you making me do this?” I whisper, feeling tears come to my eyes.

“You can’t spend your whole life living in fear.” He stares down at me with his beautifully creepy eyes. “Now, spread them.”
That could be taken in a very wrong way
…I think but don’t say.

So, so scared….

Stretching them out—as usual—feels great, but I make sure to whack him upside the head with one. Then again, so he knows it wasn’t by accident. “So, are you expecting me to jump?”

“No.” He gives me a very devious smirk and, before I can even kick him in the nuts, he’s shoving me off of the cliff’s edge.

“You stupid, egotistical son of a freakin’ monkey’s ass!” I scream out, curling into a ball, waiting for a very painful death. A branch pokes me and then about ten more do and snap with the impact. Then I guess my wings catch an air pocket and I’m slowing down.

Which makes me open my eyes.

Then squeeze them tightly shut again. And then they’re open again, taking in the setting sun from this height and the trees and the…holy crap on a cracker. This is gorgeous. Finally, I’m a few feet off the ground and then land, not so gracefully on my feet.

That was…pretty cool.

“Ness?” he calls from somewhere close by. But it’s not up high so I guess he jumped down here. “Nessa?” I hear crunching leaves and snapping branches. “Nessa!” his voice cracks, and I finally decide to make my way where he is.

He pushed me off of a cliff. I think the least I can do is make him pee his pants and scream like a girl. Taking a running start, I leap into the air and…and it takes me a few more times before I get it. Then I’m flying through the trees, below the treetops, but high enough where he won’t see me right away.

“Nessa!”
he bellows, clearly starting to freak out. After a little while, I finally see a blurred, dark shape which would have to be him running. He stops all of a sudden, looking in every direction. “Nessa….” he whispers.

Aw…now I feel like a female dog.

“Sup?” I drop to the ground behind him. He spins around, eyes wild, and then his arms are wrapped so tightly around me I can barely breathe. “I’m okay.” I murmur, awkwardly patting his back. His arms tighten around me, lifting me up off my feet, to his level. Then he pushes his face in my neck.

Once he calms down, I gently pull away, and he reluctantly lets me lean away from him so I can see his face. “I think you should run.” I narrow my eyes. “Because I’m going to kick your—” I don’t even get to finish before he’s whooshed away from me. He taps me on the shoulder, and then he’s gone again.

I do my running-leap thing and disappear into the trees up above. He freezes, staring up at where I disappeared to with a dreamy expression.

Damn, boy’s got it bad.

While he has his back turned, I creep up and then lightly tug on his ear before whooshing up again, giggling hysterically. “This is the most fun I’ve had in
years
.” I yell out, welcoming the breeze in my hair.

We play this game a while longer. He doesn’t let me sneak up on him anymore, though. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I was always giggling too hard.

~ The Full Story ~

Fishing out my journal while curled up under a warm blanket in my temporary bed has become kinda normal. Only, this time, I hear a loud
thump
from upstairs. Like someone dropped something. Then a louder bang, and then something’s lying over my legs….

“Whaurt—” I sit up in bed, more than half-asleep. Until I see what the weight on my legs is. Two vamps fighting. On my bed, while I’m still in it.

This isn’t awkward.

Devin snarls, fangs out, and tries to buck Toby off. But Toby holds his own. I don’t see how, considering how pissed Devin is. “What is going on here?” I yell over their snarling. I’m ignored, of course. Until I slap both of them with pillows a few times. “Can I help y’all?” I screech and then hit them each one more time.

“He was going to attack you,” Toby pants. In the dim light coming through my open door, I can see how pale he is. This must’ve really freaked him out. “I felt it again, that pull where I wasn’t me and then I tried to hurt you. I resisted it, but then I heard something in here and then I came in to find him standing over your bed.”

I don’t know if I would’ve believed him if not for Devin, sweet, never hurt a fly, Devin, still snarling, attention dead set on me, trying to use me for a snack.

“That’s so rude,” I yell, and hit him in the face with a pillow again.

“I don’t know how to bring him back, and I don’t think I can hold him much longer—” he admits just as Devin bucks one more time, throwing him out of the door and down the hallway. Then he moves, fast as lighting, and pins me down on the bed.

“You could
so
use a breath mint, honey,” I murmur calmly.

“Shut up—” he starts, but I don’t believe in people being rude. So, I throw the burst of energy that was tingling down to my hands at him. He’s thrown off of me and onto the floor, where he starts convulsing. And where, apparently, my energy-ball thing follows him. It’s like a purple mist, crackling with energy. That’s new….

He continues to convulse.

Shit, I don’t know how to stop it.
Feeling myself start to panic, I glance over at Toby who’s just now getting to his feet. Confusion takes over his features for a few seconds, gaze going from me to Devin on the floor. Then his eyes light up. And he runs down the hall. “What the hell?” I snap and then focus back on Devin, trying to bring the energy back to me, like I did when I accidentally strapped them to their seats. But nothing happens.

This hasn’t happened before…shit, shit, shit—

Before I can fully panic too much, water’s thrown on me. Extremely cold water I might add. Glancing back over to Toby, who’s now holding an empty pitcher, I spit water out.

“Sorry,” he grimaces.

“No, don’t be.” I wave him off, getting to my feet to check on Devin. He isn’t moving anymore. That could be a good thing or it could be really bad. “It stopped it.”

I confirm he’s back to himself. Especially when he groans, sits up, and rubs his head. “What’d I do to you?” he grumbles, clearly not remembering. But I remember. In the old books I’ve been reading, it says that the person who changes you is your ‘master’ or whatever. Can have complete control over you if you let him, that’s what had been happening with Toby.
Maybe the secret everybody thinks he’s been hiding will come out….

“Come on, you have some explaining to do at….” I look at the alarm clock on my bedside table. “Three in the morning.”

Helping Toby to the soft cushioned couch, I carefully place the ice pack on his head. I know it’s not necessarily my job to take care of him. I still feel obligated, though. I’ve grown attached to the little squirt. “I’m fine,” he says, even though he graciously accepts the pack.

“You did great,” I admit smiling at him.

“Thanks.” His face turns pink.

“No sleeping. You might have a concussion.” I wave my finger at him. “I don’t care if you’re a vamp and you’ll heal a lot faster. You’re still not sleeping for a while. Understand me?”

“Yeah,
Mom
,” he grumbles.

“Good. Now don’t forget to eat your vegetables with a side of yucky red stuff.” I ruffle his hair.

He snorts.

As soon as I walk into Devin’s room—where he told me to meet him—I sense something’s going to change. He’s standing at the window, watching the street. I know he knows that I came in but he doesn’t acknowledge my presence.

So, I just take in his room. More paintings hang on the walls. Stupid, talented jack—shit. Staring back at me is the spitting image of Devin, the same icy blue eyes, dark hair, pale complexion. The same features and even the same devious expression.
Is this his ancestor or something? Because, holy shit on a stick.

“Sir, Jameson Gray.” I read the plaque underneath it. It’s like it’s from some museum or something. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know it’s not someone down his bloodline. It’s him.
Can we say cliché once again?
Facing him, I snarl, “Start talking, Gray.”

You’ve been lying to me.

“What exactly would you like to know?”
What the heck?

“You’re
British
?” I squeak eyebrows up into my hairline. “What is it with the British take-over lately? I mean, I love the Brits and all, but seriously, all at once? Have y’all been planning this for a while?”

“Should I continue on with my explanation, or would you like to ramble more?” He still doesn’t turn around.
Who would’ve thought a British accent could make you sound
even
more snarky?
“And, just so you know, I’m English.”

I zip my lips and make a grand gesture for him to go on.

“You might want to take a seat,” he mutters. Just so I won’t speak again by arguing with him, I take a seat in the chair by the windows closest to him. “In 1858, I was recently orphaned. Picture an eighteen-year-old on the streets of England, begging for change.” He laughs bitterly. “After a few years of living in the gutter, one morning I received an invitation to eat with one of the local celebrities, you would call them now. They were stage actors— that was as close to royalty as I would get. At that point, I was too hungry to question it. I went into the penny gaffs voluntarily, they even paid for it. It turned out that they liked to bring in orphans, people who wouldn’t be missed, and slaughter them, right in front of a crowd. This was, of course, underground, even so, they cast their compulsion on their poor minds, blinding them to the reality happening in front of them. I wasn’t aware of this at the time. I was just a starving, idiotic boy who was wishing for food to be there. Or sometimes—like they did with me—they have you fight to the death with another prisoner.

“I won.” The bitter cackle sounds again, and his sorrow pours through me, making me want to bawl. “Then I was welcomed with open arms. I became one of them, the wealthy, and the adored. I went to all of the parties, dressed in the best clothes money could buy….” He slips into his own little world as he rests his forehead on that mesmerizing window of his.

“We took a trip to Paris. I’d never been out of the small village I grew up in, so that was astounding for me. I finally thought my parents would be proud of me, proud that I was letting our name stand for something. That night, we went to a local theater. I didn’t know it then, but they were hunting. I had started thinking of them as family, and when I witnessed what they were…all of the memories came back to me. I thought we were just a bunch of lads, only knowing of the good they did, nothing of the bad.

“Apparently they wiped my memory before I could become one of them and put something in my mind to block all of the terrible things they did. I didn’t remember the fight. I didn’t remember seeing the other boy’s lifeless body lying there. I didn’t remember the monster I thought I was. Until I witnessed them in their true forms. I started to run, but they caught me and turned me.” By the time he finishes this, he’s whispering.

“What happened?” I ask back just as softly.

“This isn’t some bloody
Twilight
movie, Nessa.” His eyes flash at me. “I didn’t choose to become a good guy after seeing the monstrosity of my alleged family. I didn’t kill those who wished to harm another.”

I wrap my arms around myself. “Then what did you do?”

“When I woke, I was filled with so much hatred—once I realized what I had become, that is—hatred and hunger. I got my revenge, one by one, slowly and painfully. They were only wealthy because of their families. They were also shit actors.” He grips the windowsill tightly. “I killed my ‘family,’ and after that I went underground and did what I had to do to survive. Everybody was after me, they didn’t know me by name,” he glances over at me with a nasty smirk, “No witnesses. They were just after the one who slaughtered their proclaimed angels. I killed their hero’s after all and the rest doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it sounds like they deserved it….”

“I killed innocent people. They were born vampires; that’s how their fathers and mothers taught them to live. There is no justifying what I’ve done, Nessa.” He faces his window again.

Sighing, I get to my feet. “Touché. You were a jackass. But you can’t let your past run your future. Sure what you did was more than a little rude and uncalled for, but right now is what matters,” I whisper, turning him to face me. “What I see in front of me right now is a handsome young lad who would give the shirt off of his back to a complete stranger.”

“You don’t really know me.” He tries to yank his hands away, but I hang on.

“Don’t do that shit where you make threats and try to scare people and end up pushing them away.” I jerk him a step closer. “Not with me, okay?”

“Okay,” he murmurs quietly after a moment. I’m suddenly in his arms, being squished against his hard chest. I wrap my arms around him and rest my face against his stomach, damned tall bastard.

“And maybe I want to get to know you more,” I mumble against him.

“Okay.”

“Why did you choose to go back to school anyway?” I lift my face to him. “If you say it’s because you wanted to get to know me better, I might have to cut you.”

“No,” he laughs. “It’s been a long time since I’ve gone to a school. I didn’t think it would hurt any to catch up on some history.”

“I guess I can understand that.”

“But damn, I never expected the shit to be that hard. I’ve lived a long time, and I’ve never needed to know any of this newfound math, and don’t even get me started on the writing. Please do explain to me why I need to know the exact terminology for structuring a sentence. I’ve lived this long without needing to know how.” He groans, throwing his hands up in what I suspect is exaggerated exasperation.