Twisted Dreams (2 page)

Chapter

2

I
stepped from my rental vehicle, slammed the door shut behind me, and stood staring up at the red brick building that would be my home for the next four years.

The weather had brightened since I’d been towed to the garage, the sun breaking through the remaining blanket of cloud
.
The shop had offered me the rental until my poor, fried Audi was fixed, though they’d muttered comments about expensive cars and parts, not giving me any hope it would be returned to me soon. The replacement vehicle was a beaten old SUV, though it was probably better suited to this area than the sedan. The shiny, black chrome of the Audi would have stood out—another thing to make me feel like an outsider. While I wasn’t exactly out in the sticks, people seemed to go for a more relaxed look, vehicle-wise, than the convertible and sedan-loving L.A. crowd I was used to.

At least the replacement meant I’d reached school in time to register. I was running seriously late now, but others must have traveled as big a distance as me, if not farther, so I was sure I wouldn’t be the only one to be delayed.

A big shoulder barged into mine, and I almost stumbled forward. “Wake up, dreamer!” the owner of the shoulder said as he walked by.

“Hey, watch it,” I exclaimed, my forehead creasing in a frown, my body jerking away from the impact.

The person who had nudged me—a tall guy with broad shoulders and a buzzed-short blond head—threw me a grin over his shoulder as he walked away.

I scowled at his retreating back, trying not to appreciate the muscles flexing beneath his form-fitting, gray t-shirt. My first introduction to my new college and I’d already been called out on one of my flaws, daydreaming. Self-conscious, I tugged at the sleeves of my long-sleeve tee. I only hoped my other quirks weren’t quite so obvious.

Most kids blame their parents for who they are. In that way, I’m no different. However, what I am is unlike any other girl starting college.

I am a dhampyre—born of a human mother to a vampire father. My parents did their best to raise me as any normal child, but hey, when your dad survives by drinking the blood of other people, something like that is always going to play on a girl’s mind. Being half vampire is something I’ve just always known—I imagine it must be a bit like growing up always knowing you’re adopted. I don’t remember my parents ever sitting me down and breaking the news that I was a dhampyre to me. Boy, what a conversation
that
would have been!

I do, however, remember serious conversations about never being able to mention what my father was to anyone. I’d been warned that either he would be taken away or
I
would be taken away; neither good results in my child’s mind. Oh, I’d wanted to tell people on many occasions, especially as my dad’s supposed condition of extreme light sensitivity made ‘vampire’ the obvious taunt for kids in the schoolyard. I’d wanted them to know how close to the truth they were, for him to come and show them his speed and strength, just to shut them up, but of course that could never happen.

My existence had caused some troubles when I was younger—problems I only had a vague memory of now—and so it wasn’t exactly something I wanted to broadcast. I’d even Googled ‘dhampyre’, hoping to get some answers, but I’d only been able to pull up fictional pages. It wasn’t like a dhampyre convention occurred once a year where I could go and talk to other, like-minded, half-vampires.

In truth, the vampire side was less troublesome than whatever weird genetic screw allowed me to see things about people that hadn’t happened yet. When I was younger, I struggled to tell the difference between what I actually knew about someone and what I’d picked out of mid-air. This made for some uncomfortable conversations, especially when what I’d told them came true. But lately I’d been developing an unnerving craving, one I didn’t want to admit to, even to myself. If I’d admitted to either of my parents that I was craving the taste of blood whenever I became angry or upset, I was convinced they wouldn’t let me move away. They’d have wanted to keep me close to keep an eye on me, and bang, there’d go my new independent life.

All around me, excited or nervous new students unloaded their belongings from their parents’ cars. I could tell the parents were trying to hold it together, not wanting to cause a scene in front of their offspring’s potential new friends. I recognized the tight-lipped smiles, the shiny eyes on the verge of tears, and strained expressions from the ones that had been plastered on my own parents’ faces just before dawn one morning, a few days ago.

I’d made the three day drive alone. My parents had wanted to bring me, but unless we’d only traveled at night my dad couldn’t come. My mom wanted to come alone, in fact, she’d begged me to let her drive up with me and fly back, but I was perfectly aware of how my mom looked. Something happened in her past which meant she regularly took drops of my dad’s blood to keep her well. The result was my mother looking like a seriously hot twenty-five year old. I had no intention of watching all the guys at college noticing her before me. Beside her, I disappeared into the background.

People told me I looked like my mother, but when I stood in front of the mirror, I only saw my father staring back at me. I was blessed with my father’s shock of unruly dark hair, and as for my skin, I was definitely not one to tan. Minutes in strong sunshine caused me to burn. Ironically, my dad used the excuse of
xeroderma pigmentosum
—a genetic disorder which made him susceptible to sunlight—to pass as a regular human. My condition wasn’t so extreme, but I couldn’t hang out at the beach without some serious cover-up.

People rushed past me, giving me only sideways glances as I still stood staring up at my new home. My earlier experience had left me rattled, so now nerves roiled inside my stomach, though I wasn’t going to show it. The only way I dealt with being me was by toughing it out, acting as though I didn’t need anyone else, as if I were fine on my own. I couldn’t get too close to other people. I either saw something in their future that meant I couldn’t bear to look them in the face, or I touched them and got a flash of their present. Either way, I struggled to maintain long term friendships. As for relationships with guys, well, let’s just say getting physically involved with someone like me wasn’t a good thing.

First thing I needed to do was register, and have my dorm and key allocated to me. Leaving my belongings in my replacement vehicle, I headed up the main path and entered the campus building. The red-brick Victorian structure managed to be both beautiful and imposing. Turrets rose from a number of points on the roof. High ceilings created a cathedral-like space. Tall, arched windows allowed the late afternoon light to filter through in beams, highlighting dust motes which spiraled lazily in the shafts.

I went to the administration office, clutching my paperwork to my chest. The door was open. A girl stood with her back to me, talking animatedly to the small woman with short gray hair who sat behind the desk, peering at the computer.

I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation.

“No, Mrs. McCarthy,” the girl said in curt tones. “You
do
know I am on the system because I have lived in Sage Springs my whole life, and you babysat me for half of that. You know I would not leave, which is also why you know I am on that computer somewhere!”

The poor woman behind the desk fidgeted, chewed her thumbnail, and then hit a few more keys on her computer. “I am sorry, Laurel. You’re just not coming up.”

The girl—Laurel—gave a sigh of exasperation, rounded the desk, and stood behind the older woman. “Up you get, Mrs. McCarthy. Time to let me have a go.”

“Oh, I really don’t think that’s ...”

“It’ll be fine. No one will know.”

Both their gazes settled on me loitering in the open doorway as I gawped at the gall of the new student. The girl had astonishingly blue eyes behind her glasses, her mousy blonde hair pulled up into a high ponytail. She wore an old fashioned white blouse buttoned up to the neck and teamed with jeans. Around her neck, on a chain, hung a tiny silver birdcage with a minuscule silver bird perched inside.

“She won’t say anything, will you ...?”

She lifted her eyebrows for me to fill in the gap.

“Elizabeth,” I supplied.

“There you go,” said Laurel. “Elizabeth. A nice, trustworthy name.”

She gave me a wink, and I couldn't help but grin back.

“Now let me at those files.” She settled in front of the computer, leaning across the administrator as she hit a number of keys, her eyes glued on the screen.

She grinned. “There you go. Told you I’d find it.”

Mrs. McCarthy blinked at the screen. “But that’s not the right major.”

“Sure it is. I’m majoring in journalism.”

“Well, no wonder I couldn’t find you. I thought you were doing law to follow in your daddy’s footsteps. What are your parents going to say?”

“I’m eighteen years old. They don’t have to say anything.”

She bristled. “I’m sure the money to pay for college has come from somewhere.”

Laurel scowled. “And I’m sure that’s none of your business.”

Secretly, I was delighted. If this spiky girl was doing journalism, our paths would cross, either in class or on the college newspaper. I didn’t know what it was, but something about her seemed different. She seemed like the type of person I could be myself around. Okay, maybe not totally myself, but the human version, at least.

The administrator printed off Laurel’s schedule and handed it to her, her face taut with disapproval. I couldn’t help but wonder who her parents were, if they were some kind of bigwigs in town.

Finally, Mrs. McCarthy turned her attention to me. Feeling somewhat shy about the intrusion and the tension remaining in the room, I sidled forward and pushed my own paperwork across the desk. I could only assume Laurel had arrived without any for the administrator to struggle to find her.

My details were typed in, and within a minute the printer spurted out my schedule. The older woman’s warmth hadn’t improved as she handed me my schedule as well, as if I’d played a part in the confrontation deliberately and hadn’t simply been an accidental addition.

I smiled my thanks to her, but she’d already looked away, busying herself with something else. I mentally bookmarked her as someone I should try to avoid.

Turning from the desk, I discovered Laurel hadn’t gone anywhere, but instead waited for me in the doorway.

She grinned at me and linked her arm in mine, pulling me down the corridor with her as though we’d known each other for years. I braced myself, waiting for the onslaught of images I knew would come.

Nothing happened.

“What?” she said, slowing to a halt.

I realized I was staring at her and forced my eyes away, turning my lips into a grimace of a smile. I prayed she wouldn’t think I was a total weirdo. “Oh, nothing. I just thought I recognized you for a second.”

She smiled. “Nope, don’t think so. Not unless you’ve spent much time in town. I’ve never left.”

“Perhaps it was during orientation.”

She shrugged and started to walk again, though I noticed her arm slip out of mine. “Yeah, maybe. So what major did you say you were doing?”

I relaxed slightly, thankful to move onto something else. “I didn’t, but it’s English Lit.”

“Oh, cool. We’ll have some classes together then!”

“Yeah, I guess we will.”

We grinned at each other, and the awkward moment melted away.

Just because I wanted to work on the newspaper didn’t mean I wanted to be a journalist. I wanted to write, and I’d write anything, including factual stories. I’d already gotten in contact with the editor of the school paper, The Sage Gazette, and I reminded myself to drop in on her and introduce myself. Writing on the paper was also another way for me to fit in, to create my own niche at school. In Los Angeles, I’d always been an outsider, despite living in the city all my life. My tendency to burn instead of tan, our big, gated house in the hills, and the secretive father no one ever really saw only made me stand out as someone different. In L.A., it wasn’t good to be different. This move to Sage Springs made me the outsider, but I hoped this new start would give me the opportunity to be the person I never got the chance to be back home. No one needed to know anything about my family, and the cloudier climate here meant I didn’t need to slather myself in sun lotion twenty-four-seven, or make constant excuses about why I couldn’t go to the beach. When I did go to the beach, I sat in a giant brimmed hat and under a couple of layers of throw overs while the other girls spread themselves out on the sand in the smallest bikinis they could find.

“You’re not staying on campus then?” I asked, realizing Laurel had not been given a room key like me.

She shook her head. “No need. My folks live in town. It would be a bit weird if I decided to stay on campus when they are only around the corner. I’m hoping next year I’ll be able to get an apartment with a couple of friends, but I’ll have to see. I haven’t mentioned my plans to my parents yet.”

“How come?”

“They can be a little ... overprotective.”