Mere mortals, p.16
Mere Mortals, page 16
“Well, as far as I’m concerned, the Elders can take the Treaty of Annis and shove it up their own an—”
Lina stopped me with a disapproving look, but I could tell she was hiding a smile.
I put my hands up. “Okay, okay. I’m just surprised that an Ancient would be such a rule follower. You’re stronger, faster, and, let’s be honest, way more popular than the council.”
“Nobody loves a politician,” Lina conceded. “And I’m no fan of the current Elder Seat representatives or their actions, but I do respect the structure.”
She smiled at my questioning look. “You don’t know the chaos before the council. Why do you think humans have vampire lore? Before the Elder Seat was created, before we organized into clans and houses to help keep order, our kind were far too exposed, drunk on our own power. But even an immortal can’t survive a mob with torches and pitchforks.”
“It depends,” I argued, pretending to seriously consider it. “Are the pitchforks made of wood?”
“Joke while you can,” Lina said. “You may be back to avoiding wooden stakes soon enough.”
“Thanks to you,” I said in earnest.
“Dexter will be disappointed, you know. And your friends too.”
At the mention of my friends, I slapped my palm against my forehead. “I keep forgetting to ask you—will you run the coffee cart after the parade? I know it’s lame, but I promised the Halloween hillbilly committee I would ask.”
“Oh, so you need another favor now?”
I held up two pinched fingers in front of my sheepish expression. “Just a teeny one. Pretty please.”
Lina’s expression was a cross between an eye roll and a helpless grin. “This town and its silly traditions, I swear.”
“That’s a yes?”
“That’s a maybe. Let’s get you past the Elders in one piece, and then we’ll worry about a party, deal?”
I raised my now-empty mug. “Deal.”
Twenty-Four
Sample, Don’t Indulge
The next week had me tied up in knots, between waiting for word from the council and anticipating my first official date with Dex. Both were things I had wanted for so long, and both were making me a little nauseous. I should have wondered how I could feel excitement and dread at the same time, but I was starting to get used to all my conflicting human emotions.
Reg, meanwhile, apparently had no feelings about the appeal at all. When I’d told him Lina agreed to be our sponsor, he’d responded with casual surprise and a vague “How kind of her.”
Still, I’d take my brother’s casual indifference over Sal’s utter fury. The slayer had slammed around the cottage for hours, barking about Lina interfering in his business. Or, as he put it, “sticking her big vampire nose in it.”
Neither one of them was interested in my constant jabbering about the appeal, so I tried to put a lid on it, but by Tuesday morning I was about to burst.
“What do you think is taking so long?” I complained.
“It’s early,” Reg said. “They’ll be here soon.”
“No, not our friends. The Elders.”
We were lounging around Poe’s locker waiting for everyone else to arrive. Reg had insisted we get to school early so he could explain to his world history teacher why his grasp of anti-communism in the postwar era was stronger than hers. I had talked him out of it, worried he might tell her he lived through that era, if it meant she’d turn his B to an A. Now, I figured I could at least distract him with something more important than history—like, our entire future.
Reg gave a casual wave of his hand. “It’s only been a few days. Really, Charlie, you have alarmingly little patience for someone who desires all eternity.”
“It’s not the wait so much as the not knowing,” I said. At this point, I wouldn’t mind waiting months for my chance to get in front of the council, as long as I knew that chance was coming.
“Waste time worrying about it if you want,” Reg said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you about the wrinkles.”
He squinted at my forehead, then pulled back in mock alarm, as if the creases were sinking into my skin right then, and I pushed him into the wall of lockers.
“Are you going to miss Poe?” I asked after a beat.
The question caused Reg’s face to falter, but only for an instant. “I may not even remember him, if we are given the memory fade.”
My breath caught. “They would do that again?”
“I have no idea,” Reg said. “It may not be necessary. But even if our memories remain intact, when our thirst returns, we are unlikely to feel things like loss—at least not to the degree we feel it as humans.”
“You didn’t really answer the question,” I observed. “What exactly is the deal with you and Poe? Is it . . . serious?”
Reg smiled and struck a pose. “I am far too pretty to be tied down, mortal or immortal. But that’s no reason not to sample the local flavors.”
“Sample or indulge?” I asked.
“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.” His smile turned to a devilish grin. “So, it’s a good thing I’m no gentleman.”
I laughed, but deep down, I recognized Reg’s response for what it was—a half-truth. I’d seen him with Poe, and it wasn’t just a fling. I had an uncomfortable feeling that Reg was telling me what I wanted to hear, instead of the truth. Didn’t he know that after a century, I could see right through his casual disguise? Nonchalance was one of my brother’s hallmarks. Keeping secrets was not.
I decided to ask him, point-blank, if he still wanted our immortal lives back, but just as I opened my mouth to speak, I felt a hand on the small of my back.
Dex.
I turned toward him, careful to keep in contact with his hand. Our date was still a few days away, but the confident, familiar way he touched made it feel like we were already a couple. If Reg had even a fraction of the same chemistry with Poe, I wouldn’t blame him for wanting to stay. A part of me wondered if I should cut things off with Dex now, before I found myself in the same tricky situation. But it was drowned out by the other part of me, that was focused on how Dex’s one hand could make my whole body tingle.
“Hi,” I said, voice so low it was almost a whisper.
Dex’s smile was just for me. “Hi.”
Reg leaned into our private space, arms wrapped around us both and face just inches from ours, his own grin stretched from ear to ear. “Hi.”
I will murder you, my eyes said.
It will be worth it, his wagging eyebrows replied.
Out loud, he said, “Sample. Don’t indulge.”
“Oh my God, get out of here, right now. I hate you.”
“What was that about?” Dex asked when Reg was gone.
“Sibling stuff.” I remembered Dex was an only child. “Be glad you don’t have a brother.”
Dex leaned against the lockers. “He’s more than your brother though. He’s your best friend.”
It was so simple the way Dex said it, and yet, it hit me like a truck. I had never thought of it that way. Reg was my family, someone you are stuck with by definition, but a best friend . . . that’s someone you choose. And when it came down to it, that’s all I really wanted from Reg—not for him to choose immortality but to choose me.
I nearly fell back down the well of worry over our appeal, but Dexter’s hand touched mine just in time, bringing me back to the Hope High hallway. This farm boy was proving to be an excellent distraction.
Twenty-Five
Save the Date
Dexter was just one member of Team Distraction. Sydney and Sophia helped me pass the week with endless chatter about my upcoming date and final hoopla details, which included constant reminders by Sophia that we were falling short of our fundraising goals and counter reminders from Sydney that what really mattered was that we throw the “best party ever.”
It was almost enough to make me forget about the council meeting.
Almost.
Every afternoon at All Hours, I looked at Lina with the question in my eyes, and every afternoon she responded with a small shake of her head. Some days, when the twins were being extra entertaining, it was almost a relief that we hadn’t heard from the council yet. I did have a party to attend, after all.
I wondered, if the Elder Seat ruled in our favor, if we would return to immortality right away or if we would have time to tie up our human affairs. I tried to imagine the Elders’ faces if I asked for an extension in purgatory in order to attend the annual Halloween Hoopla. They would probably deny my appeal on the spot just for asking.
The parade and party were only two weeks away. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever if we didn’t get a hearing until after the festivities were over. Our human adventure deserved a finale.
By Saturday night, I had something new to focus on. My date with Dex was less than an hour away, and Sydney and Sophia sat on my bed, picking through a pile of designer clothes.
“I can’t believe all the labels you have,” Sophia said, sighing over a deep gray Chanel sweater. “I think I’ve died and gone to fashion week.”
I smiled. “You can keep that one.”
“OMG, really?!” she squealed.
“No way!” Sydney sat up from where she’d been lounging against my pillows and pawed at all the fabric. “What do I get?”
I tossed her a pink sequined dress I’d just pulled from a hanger. “This. To go with your hair.”
She caught it with one hand. “I knew you owned something that wasn’t black!” She checked the label. “Just my size.”
Sophia looked guilty, as if they were stealing. “Charlie, are you sure?”
“She’s sure.” Sydney shushed her sister. She stretched her arms out and bowed in my direction. “We humbly accept these gifts from the queen of all fashion.”
See, now this was exactly what I expected out of high school. Finally.
“Just like you’ve always wanted,” Reg said, appearing in the doorway.
“No boys allowed.” Sophia tossed a spiky heeled shoe in his direction.
He dodged it, and it smacked into Poe, who was waiting behind him in the hall.
Poe fell to the ground, feigning serious injury. “Dear Sophia, why hast though forsaken me?”
“Rehearsing, I see?” She giggled.
He answered with an expertly voiced death rattle, then collapsed.
“Debate practice, actually,” Reg said. “Poe is helping me prep for next week’s tournament.”
Poe popped up from the floor, bouncing a little on his feet. “It turns out, I’m very argumentative.”
“I could have told you that,” Sydney said.
“Maybe I’ll go out for debate team next year too,” Poe said.
A small shadow flickered across Reg’s face—too subtle for anyone else to notice and too quick for me to interpret. As much as he protested being tied down, I could only assume he was reluctant to say goodbye to Poe—to all of them—or at least felt guilty about pretending we would still be here next year.
I was feeling a little guilty about that myself, if I was being honest, and something more too—like a hollow spot was being carved out inside my chest, right where my human heart did all its thumping. I touched my hand to the spot for just an instant, then made an effort to shake it off.
“Well, I’m prepping for a date.” I waved a hand from head to toe. “And all of this takes time. So get out of here already!”
We closed the door on the boys, and I turned to the full-length mirror on the back of the door, inspecting my little black dress from every angle.
“You look awesome,” Sydney said.
Less than two months ago, I would have answered “I know” without a second thought, but now I only smiled.
My brief time as a human had taught me that mortals drew a thin line between confidence and arrogance, and teenage girls had an unfortunate habit of declining compliments and pointing out their flaws instead. Maybe I could break Syd and Soph of that pattern before my mortal adventure was over.
Insecurity might be the worst part of being human. Fortunately, I was mostly unafflicted.
There was a knock at the cottage door.
Dexter.
I tossed my hair, posing for Sydney and Sophia.
“Fabulous?” I asked.
“Fabulous,” they agreed.
Dexter picked me up in a car—or something resembling a car.
“Is this beast yours?” I asked, giving the side-eye to the battered Jeep parked just beyond the picket fence.
Dexter held open the gate for me to pass through, and as I did, I got a whiff of a clean-smelling cologne that made me want to bury my face in his shirt. Maybe later, he would let me.
“It’s on loan,” he said.
I pointed to my stilettos. “And how am I supposed to get in it?”
“With a little help from your date.” He grinned, enjoying my discomfort, and I wondered if he deliberately brought this off-road ride because he knew I’d be in heels. I started to argue, but then his big hands were around my waist, lifting me into the passenger seat.
“Oh,” I said, a warmth creeping into my cheeks. “Okay, then.”
He jogged around to the driver’s side and climbed in.
“I guess I should have asked what we’re doing before I picked an outfit,” I said.
“Nah, it wouldn’t matter. Whatever I planned, I knew you’d be dressed to kill.”
“Actually, it’s better to wear snug-fitting pants and shoes with decent traction while hunting.”
Dex gave me that one-sided smile I’d come to recognize as his Charlie’s an oddball look.
“Yeah,” he said. “I was just kidding.”
“Um . . . me too.”
We laughed the awkward laugh of two friends on a first date wondering if this was the beginning or the end.
It turned out my heels weren’t the only thing that didn’t pair well with a Jeep—especially one with the top removed so that it was little more than seats in a frame with no roof or doors. As Dexter rocketed down the gravel roads, a tornado of wind whipped my hair into a wild mess. After only a few minutes, I gave up trying to hold it down and let it fly. It reminded me of how it felt to run when I could move at the speed of a vampire—the power, the freedom of it. I unclipped my seat belt and stood up to clear the windshield and let the wind hit me full in the face.
“Whoa, careful,” Dex said, but the smile he gave me was big and genuine.
And it lasted a touch too long.
“Eyes on the road, farm boy,” I said.
He grinned and slowed the Jeep to a safer speed.
I stayed on my feet, and from up here, the smell of Dexter’s cologne was drowned out by something sweeter.
I sniffed the air. “That’s amazing. What is it?”
“Don’t you recognize the smell of apples, city girl?”
“I’ve never smelled an apple like that.”
Dex pointed to a copse of trees in the distance. “There’s an orchard right on the other side of those woods. Morgana Farms. Best Honeycrisp apples around. No more, no less.”
“That phrase.” I looked down at him. “It’s everywhere here. What does it even mean?”
“It’s just an expression, like . . . that’s how it is. No exaggeration or undercut—just the truth.”
I inhaled, getting another taste of the sweetness in the air. “Apples, huh?”
“They also make fresh cider and have hayrides and a haunted house. It’s my favorite time of year.”
I dropped back into my seat. Haunted houses were offensive, the way they depicted vampires as evil and, worse, hideously dressed in cheap fabrics. But I forgave Dex for not knowing that, and the rest of it sounded—and smelled—pretty okay.
“I think maybe it’s my favorite time of year too,” I said.
He reached over to grab my hand.
And he didn’t let go.
Not for the whole drive and not even at dinner, where he managed to down a whole burger, one-handed, without dropping a single pickle. I didn’t need any hands at all to eat, because I was afraid to add food to the strange fluttering in my stomach. Also, the gross way my hand was sweating was enough to kill my appetite. Why did human bodies produce disgusting fluids in response to romance?
He was still holding my hand when we wound up back at All Hours, which Dex called “our place.”
The coffee shop was crowded, but we found a tiny table tucked up against an inside wall, under a photo of Lina perched on the edge of a boat floating in impossibly clear water. She was decked out in a wet suit and surrounded by oxygen tanks she didn’t need.
Dexter caught me staring at the photo. “That’s going to be us, next year.”
“What do you mean?”
“Grad trip, senior year. Every Hope High senior class takes a big organized trip right after graduation, and Sydney and Sophia have decided we should go to a beach in Mexico, spring break–style.”
“Sounds a little cliché,” I said. Like a cautionary episode of every teen TV show I’d ever watched.
“Agreed, but when Syd and Soph want something . . . well, you know.”
I smiled. “I do know.”
“Crazy that graduation is less than two years away,” he said with wonder. “Sometimes I feel like we’re all still just kids.”
He took a sip of his drink. “Except for Poe, I guess. He’s an old soul.”
Old soul.
Could a soul age, even if the body and mind remained frozen in time? Was I really a hundred years older than Dexter? And if so, did that make me some kind of pervert?
A guy with a guitar hopped up on a stool near the shop’s front window and started an acoustic set that made it a little harder to talk, so Dex and I mostly held hands and listened to the music.
Lina was hustling around, tending to customers, and she caught my eye only a few times. I was grateful to her for giving us some space, though at one point, I did catch her watching us with a sadness in her eyes. I wondered if she saw herself and Sal in me and Dexter.
We stayed until the music wound down, and the shop cleared out. Dex suggested we get our last coffees to go, and he switched to decaf.
