Min's Vampire (48 page)

Gabriel shook his head and took the
photo out of Lucy’s hands and replaced it on the wall, centering it
perfectly. “When did you get all insightful?” he said when he
turned back to Lucy and gave her a surprisingly wide smile. But his
eyes were still leery.

“
Oh, I’ve got loads of
exceptional qualities,” Lucy said, backing away from him and
feigning interest in the huge bag of Chinese food Laurel had just
brought in and placed on Gabriel’s desk. She also had a shiny red
metal step stool in her other hand.

“
Will this do?” Laurel
asked, holding it up for Lucy and Gabriel’s inspection.

Gabriel looked to Lucy and raised his
eyebrows.

“
Y-yes,” Lucy stammered.
“Thank you very much.”

Laurel left the red stool right beside
the black leather couch. It was by far the brightest thing in the
room, and just looking at it filled Lucy with an odd sense of
triumph.

~*~

Lucy didn’t want to look like a
tanning bed reject, and she didn’t want that overdone Malibu Barbie
bronze. But she did want to get rid of the unhealthy pallor that
working at McDonald’s for the last six months had given her. She
hadn’t realized it, but going to school, and going to work, and not
hanging out with any friends had really given her no time to
actually spend in the sun. And she loved having a nice
tan.

Lying out in the sun made her feel
like her life battery was recharging, like her body and soul were
filled with sunlight and she was gleaming with its energy. She’d
missed it. Screw it if it wasn’t good for her. The very air she
breathed probably wasn’t good for her. Of course, looking about her
at the bright, clear periwinkle sky of Four Corners, California,
she had to admit that there wasn’t really any poisonous smog
rolling overhead. It was really quite beautiful. There was even a
thicket of trees, the beginning of a forest, right at the edge of
her backyard. It was actually at the edge of every backyard on the
block, but Lucy liked to think that it was more part of her
backyard than anyone else’s.

Lucy was lying out on a
beach towel in the back yard, wearing a cute little pink and yellow
bikini she’d picked up on her last shopping trip with Elaina. That
and the most gorgeous leather coat, blood red with Italian silk
lining. It came down just to the tops of her thighs, with a sweet
matching belt. She looked like a freaking spy in that coat. Like
Angelina Jolie in
Mr. and Mrs.
Smith
… no, thinking back on it, she
actually looked better. She looked like the absolute—accept no
substitutes—goddess of spies.

Lucy regretfully tied the straps of
her bikini top around her again. She hated tan lines, especially if
she was going to be wearing anything revealing. She was careful she
was securely covered before she turned over—no need to be giving
the neighbors a free show.

She adjusted her straps and put on her
new pair of sunglasses. Just looking through the amber lenses made
the world so much prettier. They weren’t even designer eyewear, yet
they were elegant looking, and the moment she’d put them on and
looked through them, she’d loved them. Things that would be just
too dark through black or gray shades popped out under the amber
tones. She sipped her green tea and checked the time on her iPhone.
Twenty more minutes and she’d head in. No need frying on her first
day out.

There was another week before the
engagement party. She was just glad she didn’t have to meet the
parents beforehand—which was actually kind of strange. Not that
Lucy had met many of her ex-boyfriends’ parents. Usually she’d get
tired of them and would have tactfully dumped them before any such
meeting would be discussed. But Lucy had seen plenty of romantic
movies where there was the whole meeting the future in-laws thing.
And it did strike Lucy as odd that she wouldn’t be meeting the
parents until the engagement party.

Of course, if she thought it was odd,
she could just imagine what they were thinking. But maybe they were
just strange, or archaically traditional. Maybe they could remember
the days when marriages were arranged and you didn’t meet your
spouse until the day of the wedding.

The mere thought made Lucy shiver. How
horrible to have to go through such an agonizing wait, just to meet
the person you had to spend the rest of your life with. She was
surprised there weren’t more cases of brides-to-bes falling over
dead from heart-attacks, just from the stress such a thing would
cause.

No wonder they came up with
divorce.

Just then she heard an odd scraping
sound. At first it came from far off, but then she realized it was
getting closer, and from the street in front of her grandmother’s
house. She looked up and saw the most amazing sight coming her way.
A driveway led back to the white picket fence surrounding the back
yard. On the other side of the fence was a matching driveway, but
no fence bisecting their yard. Skating toward Lucy on the other
side of the fence was a girl about Lucy’s age… but that was the
only similarity.

This girl was on silver and black
rollerblades. Blue and yellow striped socks came up to her knees,
black tights under a blue and yellow catholic school girl
skirt—much like the one Lucy had gotten Jeff Haas to don right
before her father’s unfortunate run in with the law—and the
craziest pink T-shirt Lucy had ever seen. It said “Bad Kitty!” and
had a blue cartoon cat licking its bloody front paws. The rest of
the T-shirt had the little feline’s bloody paw prints all over
it.

And that was just her clothes. She had
pink and blue eye shadow on, too much eyeliner and mascara, and the
red of her lips matched the bloody paw prints on her shirt
perfectly. The hair… jet black striped with hot pink, braided into
two long ponytails that trailed from the top of her head down to
her shoulders.

Before her life had imploded, Lucy
might have… no, she probably would have been cruel and dismissive,
making fun of this girl to her disciples on the cheer squad… but
she didn’t have any disciples anymore. Hell, she didn’t even have
any friends anymore, and if the last seven months had taught her
anything it was that all those friends she thought she’d had
weren’t her friends at all.

That thought alone made a cool
loneliness crawl across her flesh—even with the eighty-five degree
sun she was sunbathing beneath. Just looking at this girl, in her
ridiculous get up, with her ears plugged into her mp3 player,
dancing as she twirled around on her skates with uninhibited joy,
made Lucy wonder how anyone could be so happy.

Before she knew it Lucy was slipping
on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and was padding barefoot across
the lawn to the peeling white picket fence that separated the two
properties.

“
Hey there!” Lucy called out
over the fence.

The girl didn’t hear her, spinning
with her hands held over her head, her plaid skirt swirling like a
cyclone. Lucy couldn’t help but smile. And, though for the life of
her she couldn’t understand why, she felt a twinge of envy. Had
Lucy really ever been that happy? Even back before the FBI,
courtrooms, and special sauce?

Suddenly the girl stopped twirling,
her bright green eyes locked on Lucy and her mouth fell open in a
surprised O. But that only lasted two seconds. The shocked
expression melted into a broad, lovely smile, as radiant as the
morning sunrise. The kind of smile you expected on fairy princesses
in Disney movies.

A small, brilliant cut diamond
glittered in her right nostril, making her all the more
fairy-like.

With a quick little wink, and then a
yank of the earphones, she extended her hand. Nails painted half
pink, half black. Silver bracelets dangled from her wrists. “I’m
Abbey. Abbey Adams.” Her handshake was strong, not the limp wristed
high class handshake of the privileged. This was a handshake that
meant it. She rolled her eyes, tossing her head back toward the
house behind her. “I live with my grandma, too.”

“
How’d you…?”

Abbey shrugged. “Sorry… small town.
And your grandma Lillian is friends with my grandma Donna
May.”

“
Oh, that makes sense.” Lucy
gave Abbey another long up and down glance. “I love that
outfit.”

“
No, you don’t,” Abbey said
with the same sweet, brilliant smile as before.

A laugh burst from Lucy’s lips.
“You’re right. I don’t, but I’ve got to respect the commitment… to
personal fashion, I mean.”

Abbey spun once on her skates as if
showing off her look. “Don’t worry. Loads of people think I’m due
to be committed somewhere with rubber rooms and a Thorazine
drip.”

“
And straightjackets?” Lucy
suddenly felt the blood rush up to her face. She hadn’t meant to
say that. And now she was sure that this new possible friend would
think she was just a mean bitch. Lucy opened her mouth to say
something, but Abbey smiled that wonderful smile and twirled
again.

“
Don’t need to go anywhere
for that!” She reached out and grabbed Lucy’s hand and dragged her
over to a picnic table under a tree, the kind with barely any paint
left on it anymore. “Got my own hanging in my closet
upstairs.”

An image of Abbey flashed in Lucy’s
mind: Abbey twirling around on her rollerblades, mascara running
crazily down her face, wrapped from the waist up by a
straightjacket, a cadre of white clad orderlies chasing after
her.

Lucy tried to shake the vision from
her mind, and tried to change the subject.

“
So, what were you listening
to back there?” Whatever it had been, the music had really made her
happy.

“
Bad Romance, by Lady
Gaga.”

“
Oh…” Lucy hadn’t meant to
sound so disappointed. She had just wished they had something in
common. Lucy hadn’t given Lady Gage even a second glance. Her
personal fashion was truly deranged.

“
So I take it you don’t go
for Lady G, huh? More of a Kelly Clarkson type?”

Lucy knew she should be put
off by this girl presuming about her. Presume much? But the chick
was right.
Behind
These Hazel Eyes
had been her ring
tone… and she used to play
Walk Away
when she was getting ready for a hot date. “She’s
totally valid. A great voice and she writes some of her own
songs.”

Abbey just sat there, her lips pulled
tight over her teeth, yet a wide grin was breaking across her face.
“Fine, fine. Clarkson’s not just the Idol freak. She’s…” She put
her hands up to her head like she was receiving a vision. “She’s
valid.”

Now she’s just poking fun at
me.
“I like Pink too.” Which Lucy did. Pink
rocked both musically and fashion-wise.

Abbey’s sweet smile morphed into a
wicked grin. Lucy was sure little horns were about to sprout from
her scalp. “I love Pink!” Abbey pulled the earphone cord out of her
mp3 player as her thumbs scrolled through her song menu. A moment
later Pink was singing that she had just lost her husband, and she
didn’t know where he went.

The little mp3 player must’ve been
jacked up, because it sounded more like a boom-box than the usual
tinny sound hand held devices had. Even with her skates on, Abbey
climbed onto the top of the picnic table and started dancing to the
music.

Lucy just sat there and smiled as she
watched Abbey go to town. A moment later Abbey grabbed Lucy by the
hand and hauled her up on the table with her and against her better
judgment Lucy fell into dancing with Abbey, not caring who
saw.

Of course, right on cue Lucy heard her
brother laugh. She looked down to find him staring up at her and
Abbey with triumphant, mean little eyes: regrettably, he had hazel
eyes too. His hair was the same shade of mahogany brown as Lucy’s,
but he kept it in a greasy, sloppy shag cut that almost covered his
eyes. He was wearing his usual uniform of worn jeans and a worn
T-shirt, with the faded, peeling logo of some long defunct punk
rock band across the chest.

Maybe Abbey and he would get along,
which wasn’t exactly the way she wanted this new friendship to
go.

“
What the hell are you two
freaks doing?” he chuckled cruelly.

So much for the two of them getting
along.

Abbey shot him through with
an acid gaze, and then she jumped off the picnic table and landed
on the cracked cement of the driveway, just inches from where Seth
stood. His mouth fell open, as did Lucy’s. Abbey had landed without
a slip or a bobble. Perfect balance—
she
must live in those roller blades!

Seth gulped as Abbey looked down on
him like an angry punk rock goddess, her hands balled in fists on
her hips. Seth’s eyes bugged out when she smiled.

“
Glass houses,” Abbey said
in a sing-song voice.

“
W-what?” Seth
stammered.

“
Well, you just called us
freaks.”

“
He’s just my creepy little
br—” Lucy tried to say, but Abbey cut across her.

“
You’ve heard that casting
stones when you live in a glass house isn’t smart?”

“
I’m not a—”