Just another
day.
The difference
between this day and any other was that he was starting school in a new place,
with new classes, and with new people. Most of whom, unfortunately, were vermin.
Dare Drache
heaved a disgusted sigh and looked around the thronging hallway. Nasty little
humans crowded around him on all sides, or would have if he hadn't been leaning
against a locker. He sneered as some human girl jostled him with her locker
door and she jumped back when he snarled. Throwing one last startled glance
over her shoulder, she hurried away.
"Scare
easily, don't they?"
Contempt
swelled through the boy's voice. It held a tinge of raspiness Dare knew girls
supposedly found attractive and an arrogance that could only be Nightworld.
Startled, he looked up.
"Byron
Redfern," the boy said, sticking his hand out.
Dare stared at
the appendage for a few moments before grasping it firmly, though he was
unfamiliar with the gesture. The boy -- the vampire -- had unruly hair the
color of damp sand and eyes that whirled in a cesspool of color. As he watched,
soft violet rolled into a smudged green. His features, like any vampire's, were
chiseled and perfect.
Byron's features
suddenly narrowed in suspicion. "You're not human, are you?" he
demanded.
The disgust
sweeping over Dare's face answered that question clearly. "Are you?"
The vampire
appeared momentarily horrified. "'Course not." He fell silent while a
group of twittering humans surged past them, beaming besottedly, and glared at
Dare. "D'you usually make friends with that line? Calling them
vermin?"
"I've
never had the opportunity to accidentally insult someone before," Dare
said coolly. "Where I come from, this would be a buffet."
Byron perked
up. "You're from an enclave?" He jerked his head, indicating that
Dare should follow, and started down the hall.
"I prefer
to call it civilization," Dare said. He fell into step beside him before
he realized he didn't know *why* he was following him. "Where are you
going?"
"Lunch,"
Byron replied promptly. He rolled his eyes -- now a misty blue -- in derision.
"All this rich, delicious blood and they try to feed us the city rat
population. Disgusting. D'you have a name?"
"Dare."
Narrowly
avoiding some human who was in the process of dropping everything he carried in
the middle of the hallway, Byron regarded him curiously. "Dare what?"
"Drache."
He grimaced as someone rammed into his side. "Why are we going to the
cafeteria again?"
Byron
shrugged. "Told Lindsay and Meera I'd be there."
"Who are
Lindsay and Meera?"
"Snacks,"
Byron admitted with a quick grin. "They're not the most colorful box of
crayons, but they have their uses. An easy food source being one. Easy being
another."
They turned
down a corridor, at the end of which stood a set of metal double doors, open to
accommodate the steady stream of students. They were painted a depressing
green, like you might see at the bottom of a clogged drain. A matching stripe
trailed unevenly along the height of the walls. Several layers of dull and
dirty white (or Dare would guess that had been the color once) laid underneath
that stripe, producing an atmosphere any student would benefit to learn in.
Nasty vermin, he
thought again, loathe to accidentally touch any of them. What had his parents
gotten him into? They'd sent him attend a school full of *humans* and to live
with a great aunt who was as batty as she was old. He'd been here for
forty-eight hours and already he hated it. His sharp golden gaze raked over the
whirling, contorting throng of humans. He was stuck here for a year. A full,
lamentable year.
At least now
he'd found someone else from the Nightworld. Maybe it wouldn't be *that* bad.
"Human?"
he asked.
They passed
through the wide doors. "Of course." Byron stopped behind a long line
of people who apparently waited for their turn at the trough. "I don't
feed from anyone else. Might notice."
Raising an
arrogant eyebrow, Dare asked, "And these girls don't?"
"Not if I
don't smear their make-up, they don't." He moved forward absently.
"How did you get the name Dare? D'your parents gamble?"
"It's
short for Darius. How did you get the name Byron? Don't you lamia usually have
hippy names?"
He grimaced.
"My real name's Agnew. Never use it." Then realization struck.
"If you came from an enclave, how d'you know about hippies?"
Dare glanced
at him, then glared at the nearly unmoving line. He didn't see the point, when
neither of them were going to eat anyway. "Just because I grew up on an
enclave doesn't mean I've never been off it."
"Suppose
not," Byron agreed, then scowled. "Lunch'll be over before we make it
to the table. Come on."
That said, he
started for the front of the line. Not one student said a word as they passed
by. Girls simply sighed wistfully; the guys nodded in respect.
"Shit,"
Byron muttered and stopped, slipping behind a frightfully tall boy.
"Adrien," he acknowledged.
"Byron."
Adrien responded, then turned back to the attractive blond he was talking to.
Keeping his
voice lowered so that only Dare could hear -- and only then because of his
superior senses -- Byron murmured, "Adrien Harman. Senior. Stay on his
good side."
"Nightworld?"
"Don't
know they are."
"They?"
Dare looked covertly at the blond next to Adrien.
Byron followed
his stare and nodded. "Name's Raquel. His sister."
Dare's
interest flared. The girl had long, platinum blond hair hanging straight as a
stick to her waist and deep violet eyes to match her brother's. Unlike him, she
was tiny and petite, coming maybe to just above his elbow. She was slender like
a model and had the figure to match. She might not know she was Nightworld, but
in Dare's books, that made her fair game.
"I
wouldn't," Byron muttered, recognizing the glint in Dare's bright gold
eyes. "Very protective, Adrien is. And strange things happen when he gets
pissed off."
He started to
respond when someone stumbled into him. Nasty, stupid vermin -- Dare was
tempted to let her fall flat on her face, but didn't want to put forth the
effort to step over her. With a sigh, he steadied her.
That should
have been the end of it, but -- much to Dare's dismay -- when his skin touched
hers, it burned. She gasped, a sound he echoed mentally.
They jerked
away from each other, Dare's breathing harsh and accusatory, hers simply rapid
and startled. Gold eyes met hazel, emotion roiling between them.
"Tierney?"
Raquel's voice was concerned and had the same effect as a bucket of icy water.
"What?"
With her
attention turned to Adrien's sister, Dare could step back and allow himself to
be appalled.
"Hideous,
isn't she?" Byron whispered.
Dare could
only nod silently and pick up a tray. In front of him, Raquel and Tierney each
handed Adrien loose change or what looked to be dollar bills, or more aptly,
whatever came out of their pockets first.
"What do
you want?" he asked them, while trying to arrange the money into some
semblance of order. He slipped the change into his pocket.
"Apple,"
Raquel replied sweetly. She stood on her tiptoes to plant a sisterly kiss on
his cheek. "You're a doll, Aid."
"Same,"
Tierney agreed, "and a Coke. Thanks!"
They hurried
off to find a seat, leaving Adrien shaking his head behind them. Tierney didn't
acknowledge Dare again. "Nice," he heard him mutter.
He glanced at
the lengthy line, picking up a sandwich off the counter. Laughing at the two
girls, or Dare could only assume that's what he was laughing at, he slipped out
of his place, walking easily to the section containing fruit. He picked up two
apples, one green and one red, then sauntered to the front of the line.
Students moved silently out of the way.
Balancing the apples in one hand, he reached down to pick up two soft
drinks.
"Will
that be all today, Adrien?" the lady at the cash register asked.
Adrien nodded.
He paid for the food and went to join the two girls.
"Don't
understand why he hangs out with her," Byron said finally, once Adrien was
out of earshot. He shuddered. "Couldn't stand to look at her myself."
"Who,
that girl?"
Byron nodded.
"Name's Tierney Anderson. She and Raquel've been friends forever. Treats
her like a sister, Adrien does. I suppose you grow immune to it after
awhile."
Dare laughed,
shoving what had happened when he touched her into the deepest recesses of his
mind. If he ignored it, maybe it would go away. "I'm not blind yet."
Although, he
admitted silently, it had been a close call. He reached down to pick up a
sandwich he was only going to throw away anyway. With a sound of disgust, he
slapped it on the tray.
"'Yet' is
the key word," Byron muttered, echoing his thoughts aloud almost absently.
"I've seen Picassos prettier than she is and a lot more normal, too."
"I happen
to like Picasso," he pointed out briefly, watching as fear leapt in
Byron's eyes before he quickly banked it. Interesting. "I've seen more
hideous girls on the streets, though not many, and my eyesight is still fine.
How do you explain that?"
"None of
them were Tierney Anderson. I've seen dogs take one look and run," Byron
shuddered. He picked up something green and indefinable from the counter.
Dare sneered.
"That wouldn't surprise me."
Byron nodded
his agreement, seemingly unaware that he was agreeing with himself. He set something
else on his tray, something Dare didn't want to think about or guess what it
was. He briefly wondered how they could get away with feeding this slop to the
students. As an analogy, a trough wasn't far off the mark.
"Still,
don't get near her if you can help it," Byron warned. "Don't trust
her any more than the other Nightworlders here. Dangerous, she is."
Dare paused in
picking up what he hoped was orange juice, though from the markings on the
carton, he couldn't tell. "She's Nightworld?"
"Witch,"
Byron replied, shrugging, "and a powerful one at that. She's another
reason not to cross Adrien Harman. If he doesn't accidentally get you, she
will, only it won't be an accident."
An insolent
smile curled Dare's sculpted mouth. "I doubt she's anything to worry
about."
Disbelievingly,
Byron blinked twice, wondering how this newcomer could dismiss her so easily.
"You're a braver man than I," he muttered.
"Because
she doesn't scare me?" he guessed.
"Not even
after you saw her," Byron affirmed, shuddering. He handed the lady at the
register a couple of crumbled bills, indicating with a wave of his hand that he
was paying for both his and Dare's. "Don't suppose you thought to bring
money."
"No."
Byron walked
off without collecting his change. "There're Lindsay and Meera. Girl
beside them is Teresa."
He pointed
vaguely in the direction they were headed. Dare glanced around the crowded
cafeteria, trying to pinpoint the girls. In the crowd of people, he didn't
notice anyone spectacular Byron might be indicating, but he did notice Tierney
sitting with Adrien, Raquel, and some other blond guy.
He scowled,
eyes narrowed, willing her to look up so he could clearly express his opinion
of her and what he was afraid might be the soulmate connection. Goddess help
her if it was, because he would do anything in his power to make sure they got
rid of it. And if he couldn't, maybe he'd just get rid of her.
"Don't
stare." Byron grabbed his arm, propelling him in the direction of the
three girls and, additionally, into a chair. "See? Your vision's already
deteriorating. I warned you, don't forget."
Dare refrained
from pointing out that he easily could have avoided any and all stationary
objects, had Byron not steered him straight into it. They stopped in front of
the crowded table, Byron gesturing absently at one of the few empty chairs. An
auburn-haired girl smiled vacantly up at him and scooted over to make room.
Dare sat, as
did Byron.
"Meera.
Lindsay. Teresa. This is Dare. He's new."
He pointed to
each girl as he said her name, then finally nodded at Dare. The first girl he'd
introduced, or Dare guessed that's what you would call it, was obviously of
Indian descent. Large almond shaped eyes indicated this quite clearly, as did
the oval shape of her face and her slightly wide nose. She had straight black
hair and skin the color of tanned leather, if not the matching skin texture.
The second
girl was fair-skinned, with slightly curling black hair and perfectly arched
eyebrows. Dare wondered if she practiced that disgusting habit of plucking
them. His sister had tried that once after a trip to the human world, and still
screamed at the sight of tweezers. He'd learned quickly to assure her they
looked much better in their natural state, as listening to her became
nerve-wracking after the first several seconds. Lindsay's eyes were dark and
caked with make-up. Under all that goo, she might have been pretty. He couldn't
tell.
The third and
final girl sat next to him, occasionally flicking her auburn hair in a way that
was supposed to be flirtatious. She glanced at him every so often. He didn't
like the look simmering in her crystal blue eyes, so pale and clear they
couldn't possibly be real.
~Contacts~
Byron confirmed, noticing his scrutiny.
He nodded
slightly. The girl was pretty and might be useful, but he didn't want to
encourage her. Sometimes vermin got insane delusions of grandeur. He'd hate for
her to be one of them.
Right now she
was fingering her milk carton, picking it up every so often and shaking it to
judge the amount of liquid left. Her eyes flicking to meet his once more, she
raised the carton to her lips and finished whatever was left.
"Your
name is Dare?" she asked coyly. She set the milk carton back on her tray
and waited for his answer.
He nodded,
ignoring her proffered hand. He'd put up with it from Byron, because he was
Nightworld, but he refused to touch vermin without a damned good reason.
"Dare Drache," he confirmed.
"Nice to
meet you," she said, dropping her hand. He thought he might have seen hurt
flash over her face, but as she was vermin, he didn't really care. "Do you
think you could do me a *huge* favor?"
He started to
refuse, but Byron kicked him under the table. ~Don't want to look for new
lunch,~ he admonished. ~Won't hurt you to be nice to them.~
~They're
*vermin*,~ Dare shot back.
Byron's eyes
whirled to a guileless hazel. ~And they taste so *good*.~
Dare sighed.
"What do you need?" he asked reluctantly. As painful as this was,
Byron was the one acceptable Nightworlder he'd found at this hellhole so far.
Contrary to what he said, it *might* hurt, but it wouldn't kill him.
She simpered
and he gritted his teeth, considering how her internal organs would taste.
"Could you get me another milk?"
He nodded,
standing abruptly. Byron tossed him a dollar. "It's on me, Tay," he
declared generously.
Dare rolled
his eyes and picked up the money. "I'll be right back." He walked
toward the front of the cafeteria, which had cleared out considerably.
"Don't
want the change," Byron called after him.
He made some
indistinct gesture in response. Lindsay should be fetching *him* milk, not the
other way around. She was, after all, the lower class species here. If humans
could even be considered a species. He wasn't sure. He didn't care if things
weren't the same on the outside; he'd *never* had to wait on vermin before.
This was *not* going to become a habit, even if these girls were Byron's choice
meal.
He didn't see
Tierney coming from the opposite direction until it was too late, and by then,
he'd already crashed into her. Their bare skin brushed, just a fleeting contact
that slammed his world askew. He caught a transient image of bold colors
clashing in a harmonious mélange.
He blinked,
suddenly realizing he stood in the middle of the cafeteria, his wits deserting
him completely. Her face swam before him.
She stared
back calmly, as though he was merely someone vaguely irritating who should not
be in her way. "Excuse me," she murmured, her voice as cool and as
distant as a frigid winter wind.
He stepped
aside automatically, watching as she glided past him without a second thought.
Not even a startled second glance. She simply glided away, her expression
unconcerned and unaware, completely unruffled by the brief interaction.
Angry, he
followed her. "It doesn't mean anything."
"I didn't
say it did."
Her disregard
angered him further. "It's a fluke," he hissed, stopping beside her
to snatch up a milk carton for Lindsay. "We are *not* soulmates."
"Is that
what that was?" She reached for a carton of milk as well, still not
looking at him. She shrugged and, grabbing two bowls of chocolate ice cream off
the shelf, she set them on trays, which she balanced easily. She walked over to the register, paying the
lady behind the counter. The lady dropped the change into her outstretched
palm. "Thanks, Mrs. Daniels." Her attention turned back to Dare.
"If we're not, there's nothing to worry about, is there?"
She walked
away with a tight smile.
He handed the lady
Byron's money and stalked after her. "Just don't think it means
anything." His gaze swept over her harshly and cruelly. "I could
never be a match for someone as hideous as you."
Instead of
giving her a chance to reply, he strode away.
Her mouth hanging
open, she watched him go. What an *ass*! As if looks had anything to do with
it! She clamped down on the rage and hurt pouring through her. It really wasn't
worth getting upset over. Just avoid him. But she couldn't keep her eyes from
straying to where he sat with Byron Redfern and his Meals-on-Wheels crowd.
Though today, they might be on stilts.
Tierney
couldn't really say she cared, or that she paid attention.
She walked
back to her table slowly, wrestling her temper under control. Taking a deep breath,
she closed the distance, dropping heavily onto her chair. She handed the milk
to Raquel. "Where did Adrien go?"
"He
needed to find out about practice or something," Raquel answered
dismissively. She broke the seal on the milk carton gratefully. "Thanks,
Tier. You know how much Mrs. Daniels hates me."
"Maybe
you should consider paying that twenty dollars worth of credit you owe
her," Tierney suggested mildly. "I have this strange feeling she'd be
a lot nicer after."
The third
person at the table, Adrien's best friend Julien, snorted. "She tried to
close Adrien's hand in the cash register once when he dropped an extra quarter.
I doubt it."
Tierney was
silent, contemplating this, then she laughed. "Well, it's worth a try.
Eventually you're going to have to buy your own lunch." She reached for
her soda, which Adrien had managed to abscond with before he'd disappeared.
"Maybe,"
she sighed, glaring half-heartedly at the woman. Then her shoulders slumped and
she fell back against her chair. She took a sip of milk, chewing on her lower
lip. "I might be able to get the money from Mom if she's in a good
mood."
Julien stabbed
at a green bean on his tray, considering it carefully before putting it in his
mouth and swallowing. "Good luck," he said.
Dipping her
spoon into her ice cream, Raquel took a healthy bite. She swallowed
thoughtfully. "Where *is* Adrien, anyway?"
"You
don't want to know," Julien answered, staring calmly over her shoulder. He
looked mildly sympathetic.
Both Tierney
and Raquel swung around to face that direction, and groaned. "He's done
for," Raquel predicted. "They'll never let him out of their clutches
now."
As the two
girls watched, Meera reached out to grasp Adrien's arm while Lindsay coyly
scooted her chair to block any other path of escape. Teresa was chattering
mindlessly at Raquel's older brother.
Byron and the new boy seemed to be ignoring the whole situation.
They turned
back to Julien. "Please," Raquel started.
Tierney
finished the sentence, desperation and mock worry curling through her voice.
"Save him!"
With a
long-suffering sigh, Julien stood to comply.
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