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Ophelia rushed upstairs to her room, ripped the rest of her dress off, slipped into a t-shirt and pajama pants, and flipped on her computer. She tried opening email first but came up with error. “Crap, Internet’s still down.” She brought up her spreadsheet and scrambled over her bed to the closet.
After dodging her sister’s clutter avalanche, she pulled the string to turn on the single light bulb. Her side of the closet was perfectly ordered, of course, jeans ironed and draped properly on satin hangers, polished shoes lined up beneath.
Old paperback books lined the shelves above the hangers, all Science Fiction.
Ophelia had dug them out of her father’s old college boxes and now she yanked them out, letting them fall to floor. She dropped to hands and knees, reading the titles for ideas, searching for anything which might inspire her to the true nature of Martin’s species, tossing the rejects over her shoulder. The second toss resulted in a crash, but she didn’t bother checking for damage.
Crawling to her bed, she pulled boxes out from under and rifled through old research papers from Honors Biology. Finding one on sharks, she barreled over her bed and into her desk chair.
Newbloods. Ophelia typed in the name on her spreadsheet’s left-hand side. Oldbloods. She typed that name on the right side. Then, she listed Martin and his parents as Newbloods. Brandon and the Elder, his so-called uncle, went under the Oldblood heading. She listed the non-human traits of each.
Martin, harsh yellow eyes when angry. Brandon, shining blue eyes when... As memory served, his eyes shone whenever his emotions were intense, angry, amorous, whatever.
What color were the Elder’s eyes? If the Elder was, indeed, a vampire or vampire-like creature, she doubted he was blind. It stood to reason his eyes would be the same as Brandon’s.
Not necessarily. Mom and I are both human, but her eyes are brown and mine are light blue. Ophelia remembered something Adrian said, something about Brandon being too new for his assignment. Could it be that the Elder’s eyes are too old to pass for human?
Vampires were supposed to be immortal, but Brandon’s group had been almost completely wiped out by Newbloods.
So, are they immortal or do they simply have incredible regenerative ability? She jotted down ‘immortal’ and ‘regenerative ability,’ along with question marks.
Ophelia fished Martin’s hair out of her purse and sealed it inside a plastic bag.
Adrian had said Dad was murdered. The brief investigation, conducted by police chief Gary Brynner, concluded that her father’s death had been accidental.
Would they have cleaned up the murder scene? Even if they hadn’t done a thorough job, Alaska would’ve done the rest, between wind, regular snowfall, and hungry scavengers. Still, there might be something left, some little thing.
“Ooh, my brain’s gonna explode.” She rose up out of her chair and fell into her bed, face down, and closed her eyes. “Can my life possibly get any more complicated?”
Kiska nosed his head under her hand and whined until she rubbed it.
Bianca staggered in and fell onto her own bed. “Someone spiked the punch bowl; Jimmy got drunk and started singing, ‘Jailhouse Rock.’”
Ophelia jumped up and dug through the paperback heap again. “There’s a book with a girl in it who’s obsessed with Elvis Presley.” Her eyes settled on a title and she grabbed it up. “Peeps by Scott Westerfeld. Scientific explanations for the existence of vampires. What’s that book about the vampires who sparkle in sunlight and subsist on animal blood?” She climbed back over her bed and into her desk chair, reading Peeps on the way.
“Twilight. You’ve read it.”
“Actually, I put the cover jacket on The Universe in a Nutshell, so I could read what I wanted without you nagging me.”
“Oh, dog, you are such a geek.” Bianca rolled off her bed and staggered toward the bathroom.
“I’m not into blood-sucking dead guys.” Ophelia sat in her chair. Except Brandon, but he’s just a friend.
Bianca propped hands on hips and surveyed the damage. “Don’t you ever clean your side of the room? It’s a pigsty.”
Ophelia rolled eyes up and over the edge of her book.
“Have you heard from Mom?”
Ophelia looked at the clock. “Geez, it’s almost morning.”
Bianca paced. “Cell phones are still out.”
The garage door opening alerted them both to their mother’s arrival.
Bianca rushed back downstairs.
Ophelia stayed put. It would be easy to hear her sister’s hysterics through the heating vent.
“Where the hell were you?” Bianca hit a new level of shrillness. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
Hmmm, Dad yelled those exact words at Bianca only a month ago. I guess she does listen once in a while. Ophelia shut down her computer and tucked away the headphones.
“I’m sorry, baby,” said Mom. “I tried to get a hold of you.” Heavy sigh. Chair legs slid across the linoleum and she sat down hard, elbows thumping on the table. She was probably resting her forehead in both hands. “I received an emergency call. Trevor went into the ditch on his way home, broke both his legs, airlifted to Anchorage on Lifeflight.”
Trevor? Oh, no. Ophelia remembered Martin’s harsh yellow eyes leveled on him.
Mom heaved a breath loud enough to seep through the vent. “No airbag, but he had his seatbelt on. Poor kid was scared out of his mind. You’ll probably hear he’d been drinking, but I didn’t smell alcohol on him. I saw skid marks on the road. Someone ran him off, someone in a big truck.”
“Martin Brynner,” said Bianca. “But we’ll never hear that because his dad’s the only cop this side of Whittier.”
“Oh, yes.” Mom groaned tiredly. “And I just read the test results on Ophelia’s insulin supply. It’s degraded. It could only have been heated, which was why there was no evidence of tampering.”
“Heated? Someone heated Ophelia’s insulin? Geez, what kind of monster would... I mean, I know Martin Brynner’s a jerkwad, but...My God, she can die without her...” Bianca’s words were coming out in spurts like she was starting to hyperventilate.
“Baby, I need to get Ophelia out of Togo and fast. Grandma could protect us if... But, she’s not here. We need to get to her in Seward. You’ll both be safe there. Seward has a regular police department and state troopers, not to mention a campground full of off-duty military men and women.”
Silence from Bianca.
Mom knew if Ophelia went, Bianca would go, too. She’d used that trick since they were babies.
Ophelia had never clued her sister in because she occasionally needed to use it too.
“Both of us?” Bianca’s feet stomped back and forth on the kitchen floor. “Ophelia’s the one they want to suck dry. I’m just...”
“You’re very special too, baby,” Mom said, quietly. “Your gift is...timelessness.”
Bianca didn’t seem to hear. “We had a great life here before the Brynners moved in and ruined everything. I mean, sure, we didn’t get to go to the mall or anything, but our friends...” Her tirade continued.
If I’m the reason the Brynners are here, they’ll leave once I do, and our friends and neighbors will be safe.
Bianca stomped up the stairs and shoved the bedroom door against the dresser with a loud bang.
Ophelia turned and followed with her eyes. “Seward’s a great town. You’ll love it there, the sealife center, fishing in Resurrection Bay, and Grandma has horses.”
“It’s still not fair. This is our home.” Bianca stomped into the bathroom, spun around, and threw herself on the bed again.
“Seward gets lots of tourists, because of the whale tours in Prince William Sound. The Brynners won’t be able to intimidate anyone there with their usual tricks. I hear the school’s really good.”
No response, except whimpering. Then, Bianca shoved the junk off her bed, barreled out of it, and marched out the door. “I’m going ice-fishing. Don’t nobody try stopping me.”
“We don’t eat fish. We’re vegan.”
“I’ll take Jimmy with me.” Down the stairs she went, never minding her boyfriend was probably still hung over. “He’ll eat anything.”
Mom would find a new job in Seward fast. Doctors were in short supply all over Alaska. Of course, Togo would be left without any medical professional at all and little hope of getting a new one.
Ophelia lowered the book into her lap and thought of the fight she left behind. Did Brandon get away?
A flapping of wings drew her attention to the window. Yes. Are you all right?
“Brandon?”
Rising up, she saw Raven silhouetted against falling snowflakes in the moonlight. She’d never seen anything so beautiful, but reality was sinking in too fast to truly enjoy the image. “Oh, crap.”
Raven cocked his head at her.
Ophelia drew a deep breath and let it go. “I’m losing my mind.”
Actually, you’re quite clever. It’s only that you’ve been thrust into a strange world.
Ophelia narrowed eyes at Raven. “Uh...” She rose to her feet and walked to her window. “Brandon?”
Raven’s blue eyes shone at her.
Ophelia unlocked the window and pushed it up, struggling with it just a bit because of the ice. She poked her head out.
The gold cuff perched next to the raven, between the branch and the tree trunk.
“Brandon? Is that you?”
In a slow agony of realization, the raven grew, shimmering under the street light, and his black head brightened into pale blond until Brandon sat on the branch, lip trembling a little. He spoke in a lost little boy voice. “Promise not to tell?” He pushed the gold cuff back onto his wrist. “It...it doesn’t fit when I’m a raven.”
“Brandon.” She jerked up, banged her head on the windowsill, and fell back on her bottom.
“Ophelia.” Brandon climbed through the window and went down beside her. “Are you all right?”
The air dried her eyes. “You’re a freakin’ shapeshifter too?” She hurriedly shut and locked the window.
“Yes. Please, don’t tell on me.”
Ophelia scooted back against her bed. “How do you make up for the difference in body mass when you shift?”
“Body mass? I...I don’t know.”
“How’d you get to be a shapeshifter?”
“I don’t know. It just started happening when I was ten.” He sat next to her. “Sorry I surprised you. Promise not to tell?”
“Sure, but why?”
“Vampires hate shapeshifters.”
“Why?”
“I do not know. If I was found out, I would be destroyed.” Brandon’s shoulders slumped.
Ophelia caught her face in both hands. “I can’t believe this.”
“You have a scientific mind. Vampires are impossible in your way of thinking. I understand why it never would have occurred to you.”
“Yeah, but I do believe in aliens, you know? Aliens, vampires, I mean, good grief, if a person can believe in one, why not the other? Besides, there must be a dozen different scientific explanations for vampirism—viruses, parasites, whatever.” She ticked them off her fingers.
“I’ve never preyed on humans and I never will, I swear it,” said Brandon, quickly.
“Why not?”
He trembled. “I wanted to be a pastry chef, work in a grand hotel like my father, create beautiful things. Now...” He licked dry lips. “I never ate meat before, not even cheeseburgers. Blood is so revolting to me.” He swallowed. “Even if it does smell lovely now, the very idea is disgusting.”
“Must make dinnertime a drag.”
“I only consume animal blood and only enough to sustain me.” Brandon folded his long legs and settled his hands on his knees. “A friend provided me with synthetic blood, but I...I accidently dropped it down a storm drain.”
She scooped up a Jacqueline Lichtenberg novel. “Synthetic blood. Who created it? Can I talk to him?”
His eyes stared widely at the space before him, his thoughts too caught up in painful memories to answer her. “Before I arrived in Alaska, I subsisted mainly on rats.”
“Oh, ick.”
“Moose is infinitely superior to rats. It’s wonderful not having to kill it myself and Kiska appreciates the leftovers.” Brandon looked at her. “And now that I’ve known you, I’m glad I never tried human blood. You would never have forgiven me.”
Ophelia swallowed sickness. “Very true.”
“I couldn’t bear that.” He hung his head.
Tired by the endless night, she put down her books and papers and settled a hand on his cold arm. “Oh, Brandon.” He was still the ‘lost puppy’ she’d first met; that he belonged to a super-powerful race with a deadly reputation did not matter.
Brandon was himself and he was good. “The Elders sent me to protect you and monitor the situation with the Newbloods, but I liked you so much I...”
“You’d better spend the night.”
“I do not sleep.”
“It’s ten below zero out there and you’re alone.” Ophelia glanced at the icy window.
“I’m used to being alone.”
Something about that made her so mad. She slammed her hand down on his shoulder much harder than she meant to and dug in her fingers. “You’re not alone. Not anymore. You’re my little brother now and I’m going to take care of you.”
If Brandon had been able to cry, she was sure he would have in that moment. Instead, his eyes shone, wide, and his lower lip trembled.