The Day It Changed

“Hey, Bud,” Pops smiled, landing a small punch on Devyn’s shoulder. She smiled half-heatedly as the screen door slammed behind her. “How was the library?”

“Hot,” Devyn breathed, suddenly aware of how suspicious she had looked. She hadn’t even bothered to stop by the library on the way home from Malcolm’s house and check out a stupid book. Instead, she sped right home, the gravel path crunching underneath her wheel.

Devyn collapsed onto the creaky green sofa in her living room and let the baseball cap fall into her green eyes. Her slightly darkened skin still looked pale and freckled, even in the dim light of the TV’s glow.

“What’s the score,” she asked, blowing a bubble with her gum and binding her dark red hair into a ponytail.

“Minnesota’s down four,” her dad scowled. What he really meant was, ‘Mauer is as good as always and everyone else needs to pick up the pace.’ For some reason, Devyn’s dad had a man-crush on Joe Mauer. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the guy was hot, and a baseball player, but her father’s interest was borderline stalker-ish. As long as Joe played for the Twins, her father was a loyal fan. He had the team’s stats memorized, not to mention every perfect play by Mauer himself.

She grinned and jumped from the couch, making her way into the kitchen. About to grab a water from the white, grooved refrigerator, Devyn caught sight of a half-assed attempt at food. Something yellow and seeming inedible sat in the pan on a burner, crusty and stuck to the sides.

“Pops,” she cried, maneuvering my way through their cluttered, narrow kitchen, “ what is this?”

Her dad chewed on his tongue for a moment, as if trying to remember. “Well, it’s either macaroni and cheese, or some mutant food poisoning bomb. I’m not sure yet.”

Cooking was not her father’s forte. He could easily burn ice cubes and freeze hot frying oil. Devyn sighed and set the inedible thing in the sink.

Sometimes, she worried about him. Without Mom, Pops was a breathing vegetable. He didn’t cook or clean, but didn’t force Devyn to do much either. He also seemed to be gender confused. It’s like he forgotten she had sprouted breasts and curves and got her period, and that Devyn was supposed to be hanging out with girls her age instead of watching NBA all night with the old man. He seemed to think she would stay his little, tomboy Bud forever.

“Bring me another cold one, Bud,” he called from his recliner, his eyes glued to the screen as Joe was up to bat. Devyn smirked to herself and grabbed a Budweiser from the fridge shelf.

“So, are you excited about school? I mean it‘s only been the first couple of weeks, but that‘s when it‘s the best,” he insisted as a Progressive commercial appeared on the screen. She tried to focus on the red of Flo’s lipstick. He grabbed the can mid air as she tossed it, popping open the tab and taking a quick gulp.

“I guess,” Devyn shrugged. No. She was not excited at all. Being the motherless, tomboy-freak at her school was not something to be excited about. Halfway through the year, most of the dumb blond cheerleaders just realize she’s not a boy, and that she doesn’t wear makeup because it’s a sign of weak femininity. And also because eyeliner kind of scared her.

“Hey, isn’t junior year supposed to be the second best year of your life?” Her dad raised a dark brow teasingly and scratched at the five o’clock shadow creeping across his cheek.

“Yeah, spending another ten months with people who don’t even know how to spell my name sounds awesome,” she muttered sarcastically, glad her dad was tuned back into the game. Devyn knew for a fact that if her father found out how unhappy she really was, he’d think it’s his fault. And maybe in some way it was.

After her mom died, Devyn’s dad moved them back to Union, population three-hundred-and-two. He had grown up in Union and figured she’d like it here. He was wrong.

Devyn hated it. She hated the stupid high school, where they only had about sixty kids in each grade. She hated the stupid diner on Main Street, where she and her dad would usually eat dinner and Rhonda would make Devyn her regular strawberry shake with extra whipped cream. She hated their house, which was small and cramped and way too hot in the summer, and then way too cold in the winter. And she especially hated the boys.

Boys at Union-Lakeridge High were like another species all together. They weren’t the kind of guys who helped elderly ladies cross the street or donate to their local food drives in December. They were the kind of party-hard, pig-headed, rich guys who have nothing better to do with their time than get drunk and have parties.

And I’m not saying that all the guys were bad, just most. Especially Malcolm. But, hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

As Devyn watched the Twins score another point, the Oriels up by only two now, she smiled. So maybe she was unhappy, and maybe she hated the guys, but as long as Joe Mauer played and the Oriels lost, her dad was content. And maybe that was enough for her.

~~~

Malcolm placed a tiny kiss on her temple, making her close her eyes and smile to herself. Smiling with him felt almost natural.

“Devyn,” he murmured, his chest rising and lowering with ease,” your second toe is longer than your first.” The smile fell from the girl’s face.

“So,” she scoffed, instantly feeling self-conscience. Devyn thought of all the things she could say about his hairy chest and dog-crap breath.

“It’s weird,” he said flatly. She rolled her eyes but wiggled her toes. Her dad said it was cute. He said she had cute little monkey feet. Then again, weren’t parents supposed to tell you you’re cute?

“Oh.”

Suddenly, the back seat of Malcolm’s car was not romantic, with slow music playing softly in the background and the cool August heat making the air slightly warm. Instead of feeling cozy, Devyn felt sweltering. Like someone had set a match to her. Sweat dripped from her half-naked body, and she pulled the hair off the back of her neck, damp pieces cool against her warm fingers.

Their position was rapidly awkward, even more so than the first time they had hooked up- underneath one of the tipped over canoes after sneaking out of camp after dark. Sand had been riding up her butt, and the whole time Devyn was afraid the canoe would tip over and expose them.

In the backseat of his Lincoln, she rested half on his chest, her dark red hair splayed out around her, and half dangled off the edge of the backseat, as one of the buckles dug into her side.

“Devyn,” he said after a while, “ you’re sweating a lot.”

Devyn grit her teeth and sat up. She was

sweating a lot, but he didn’t need to point it out.

“I should go,” she said quietly, grabbing her shirt off the floor, careful of all the debris and garbage underneath. It seemed quite possible that something had burrowed under his seat and died, because it smelled foul.

“But, Dev, babe, you promised me a b-”

“I can’t. Maybe next time,” Devyn insisted hurriedly, slipping on her shorts and stumbling out of the hot car. The fresh lake air felt like… well, a breath of fresh air. The cool moonlight made the lake glimmer and sparkle, and there wasn’t a star in the sky. Dark pine trees shadowed the pebbly path that she had used to ride her bike, a dusty purple thing with a stupid bell that dinged annoyingly whenever she hit a rough patch of rocks.

“Devyn,” Malcolm whined as he struggled to get his pants off the ground. She ignored the annoying jingle of change in his pocket and mustered a half-smile.

“I promise, next time. I told the old man I’d watch the game with him tonight… I’m sorry,” Devyn said, her voice lowering slightly.

“Baseball is more important than me,” he scoffed, his golden brows crinkling together. Devyn had never noticed the few hairs that combed together and formed a small, once insignificant uni-brow. She also never noticed how squinty his eyes got when he whined. He sort of reminded her of a rat. A furry, whiney, uni-browed rat.

“Sorry, babe. I-I’ll see you tomorrow,” she promised, leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the lips. Once he tried to slip his slimy tongue in between her lips, she pulled away and grabbed onto the left handle bar of her bike. Devyn hopped on and pedaled hard, not looking back once. She should have.

She didn’t think it was odd when the sun set faster than usual, and the full moon peeked out from behind the pines making the path glow with white light. The path grew darker and darker though, as she traveled further along. The tees grew thicker and the wind whipped her dark red hair in her face as she hurried, her heart beating faster as her nervousness grew.

And then, she stopped. The wind howled in her ears and she stared at the form on the ground in front of her. She realized too late that it was a deer carcass. A man, with pale skin as white as the moon, stood before her. His thin ruby red lips curled into a sickening smile, revealing sharp pointer teeth.

Devyn stood there frozen, her long legs steadying the bike, her heart hammering in her chest and her lungs pumping for air. She was breathless and trembling slightly as the man took a step towards her. Black clothing stretched across his broad shoulders and his skin seemed to glitter in the moonlight. Suddenly, he was very close. His long, ragged finger nails scraped against the skin on Devyn’s forearm, his hands chilling to the touch.

“Hello,” he said in an alluringly sweet voice.

“H-Hi,” she breathed, her chest heaving. Her heart was beating so quickly, and the man kept his gaze on her throbbing neck.

“Aren’t you going a little fast,” he asked, his eyes twinkling in the dull moonlight. They were soulless and black.

“I-I have to get home,” she insisted, every bone in her body screaming for her to run. She didn’t break his eye contact and tried to keep her voice from wavering as she gripped the handlebars of her bike tighter.

“Nonsense,” the man insisted, shaking his head, “Maeve, dear, I believe we have a dinner guest.”

And that’s when Devyn Brown screamed, and breathed her last breath.

~~~

Shane Books shook as he sat on the couch. He had heard her scream. It sent shivers up his arm and down his spine and through his body.

“Shane, she’s fine. Piper‘s taking care of her now,” Gabriel insisted, touching his friend’s arm lightly. Shane jumped.

“Yeah, stop being such a chick. I’m sure she’s okay,” Samuel, Shane’s cousin, added. Gabriel glared at him from over his shoulder.

“What if she dies? What if it doesn’t work?”

“It will work. How do you inject blood wrong,” Samuel snorted. “You know what I think?”

“No one really cares,” Gabe muttered, running his fingers through his light hair.

“I think Shaney-poopoo-kins over here has a crushy-wushy,” Sam smirked, plopping down next to his friends. Shane shook his head.

“Shane’s got a crush,” Sam sang annoyingly in his ear.

“I don’t have a crush. I don’t even know her name,” Shane had insisted half-heartedly as they sat around the living room. Her name was something sexy though, like Scarlet or Rayleigh. Or Johanna… she kind of looked like a Johanna.

“Shut up, Sam,” Gabriel and Shane said at the same time as Sam continued to sing.

“I saw her right before she left. I-I could have stopped her. Something.… Something didn’t feel right and I knew it was a full moon.”

“Shane-”

But Shane wasn’t listening. He was thinking of her. What was her name? Where did she live? What was she doing, riding through the woods on a full moon? Would the venom work?

Almost half an hour later, Piper finally came in, smiling broadly. Shane jumped from his spot.

“Is she-”

“Resting. Becoming a vampire is hard work, Shane. She’ll be fine in a few hours,” she smiled, giving her nephew a sort of half smile. Her black hair hung in he face and her swollen tired eyes offered hope. She was pale. Very pale.

He strained his ears and heard her muffled groans and whimpers in the other room. She would be okay. Something like relief flooded though him and he sat back down, although resisting the urge to run past Piper and see for himself. He did not have a crush. It was a gravitational pull. It was a bond. It was nothing, he told himself.

Awakening

Devyn Brown opened her eyes, everything hurting her. She didn’t remember anything from the night before, only meeting up with Malcolm after she told her dad she was going to the library. She realized she used the library excuse a lot and considered telling her dad she was going for a bike ride the next time.

Devyn blinked a couple times, trying to let her eyes adjust to the blinding white light that filtered through the shades next to the bed she was sleeping in. Her head hurt like she had a hangover and the light burned her eyes and made them water. Her muscles ached and she tried to snuggle deeper under the silken sheets of the king bed… that was not hers.

She blinked rapidly again and looked around the unfamiliar bedroom. A light wooden chair sat next to her bed, which had a light blue comforter on it. The room smelled of something sweet, and clean laundry. Everything was so bright and vivid. Had the world always been so detailed? She could hear the creaking and thudding of steps before they even reached the front of her bedroom door, which was across the room.

A knock, loud and thunderous in her ears, made her wince. What if the person on the other side was a murderer, or a rapist? The knock came again and Devyn began to grow nervous. What was on the other side of that door? She looked around the unfamiliar bedroom and spotted the alarm clock perched on the bedside table. She quickly snatched it in her hand and held it above her head.

“Come in,” she breathed, her voice raspy in coarse in her own ears. The door creaked as it swung open and Devyn waited for the right time. Just as she caught sight of the boy’s face, she threw the alarm clock with as much force as she had. It barreled into the wall, inches from the guy’s head, and shattered, ricocheting pieces of plastic on the floor.

“Good, you’re awake,” the guy smiled. He hadn’t even flinched. Instead, he sidestepped the mess of plastic on the floor and smiled even wider. His teeth were white. He was handsome, with warm brown eyes and dark hair, but smelled horrible. Like garbage. Or wet dog.

“Wh-Who are you,” Devyn breathed, bringing her knees to her chest and narrowing her eyes. She bared her teeth in disgust. He really did smell bad. She could smell him from across the room.

“More importantly, who are you, little bloodsucker,” he asked, moving with incredible speed. Even more so surprising, Devyn caught sight of every step as though he were walking instead of sprinting. Suddenly, he was very close. So close, Devyn swore she could hear his heartbeat. Her gaze flickered to his warm, pulsing neck.

Devyn swallowed her nervousness and raised a dark brow.

“I asked first,” she challenged, forcing herself to make eye contact, face to face with him. His brown eyes gleamed with mischief, and a taunting scar hung above his left eyebrow. She wondered what it was from. Devyn bared her teeth again, his foul stench suffocating her.

“Sam,” a voice rang from the doorway, making the two strangers break eye contact. Sam straightened up quickly, as though he were a cadet, and looked at the older man standing in the doorway.

“C’mon, Dad, I was just having my fun,” Sam insisted, glancing back at Devyn. His smirk grew as she hissed at him.

“She’s probably hungry,” the man insisted.

“Starved

,” she agreed, staring at Sam as his smile quivered. The man, a tall broad shouldered man with a scruffy beard, glared at Sam before tuning back to Devyn.

“Do you… do you remember anything about last night,” he asked cautiously, his hard stare softening. Devyn recognized the look her was giving her. It was pity. Why was he pitying her?

“No.”

“But you.… Not even when you were attacked?”

Devyn’s stomach plummeted. “What?”

She glared at the two men before her and wondered what was going on. She obviously wasn’t attacked; she was fine. Maybe a little sore, but fine either way. But then she heard it. Or rather, she didn’t

.

Her heart was supposed to be hammering in her chest. She was supposed to be terrified of the two men before her, who could be dangerous. But her heart wasn’t racing. It wasn’t beating.

“Wh-What’s going on,” she hissed, bringing her fingers to her heart. Sam looked at her too, but pity glazed his eyes.

“Devyn, you’re…. You’re not yourself anymore. You’re,” the older man paused, searching for the right words, “going through some changes. You-”

“You’re a vampire. Well, a human vampire,” Sam interrupted, his father glaring at him. Devyn blinked. Vampire?

As she closed her eyes, she saw him. The man with the skin like ice and the dark clad girl. Their eyes were black, she remembered. She heard his voice, sweet and melodious in her ears. She didn’t see the girl at first; she hid in the trees. He called her Maeve.

“There were two of them,” she said quietly as she opened her eyes, avoiding both mans’ gaze. She brought her fingers up to her neck. She felt the small indent of teeth, right on her jugular. How did these men know about vampires?

“Devyn-”

“I want to go home. M-My dad‘s probably worried sick about me,” she insisted, her breathing quick and uneven. She stood from the bed, her feet surprisingly strong beneath her, and tried to push her way past the two men. Sam caught her arm.

“You can’t. Not yet.”

Just then, the door swung open and another man rushed into the room. He looked about Devyn’s age and smelled much better than Sam or his father. His dark hair was wavy and gelled to a peek. His bight hazel eyes scanned Devyn’s body, involuntarily sending shivers down her spine and making butterflies fly around in her stomach.
Good shivers. The kind of shivers and butterflies you feel before your first kiss, when you’re heart’s squeezing and trying to pound out of you chest. He kept biting his bottom lip, as though he were nervous.

“Oh… you’re alive,” he breathed, staring at Devyn. His voice

. It was more tantalizing than any other sound she had ever heard. It was like angels singing….
Okay, so it was more like a guy with a sexy, deep voice talking.

Samuel smirked. “Lover boy over here saved your ass. You should be grateful.”

“Shane, you shouldn’t be in here,” Sam’s father said in a gruff tone, staring back and forth between him and Devyn.

Devyn wanted to be grateful, but she also wanted to be home with Pops and eat inedible macaroni and cheese. She wanted to make out with Malcolm again, in the backseat of his uncomfortable Lincoln. She did not want to be a vampire.

“Thanks,” she whispered, not looking at Shane or Sam.

Shane smiled to himself. It was her. It was his Johanna, or Scarlet, or Rayleigh. She looked like a Devyn though, his Scarlet. She was okay. She was alive. She was… a vampire.

“I-I have to pee,” Devyn muttered, pushing past the guys and scurrying into the first bathroom she saw. She slammed the door and locked behind her, for safe measures. Devyn took a deep breath and looked around the pitch-black bathroom. She could see perfectly. She could count the tiles on the tub steps and tell you how many woven shapes there were on a square of toilet paper.

She exhaled shakily. This had to be a bad dream. She reached for the light switch and braced herself.

Her body was lither, she noticed. She was thinner and her hips were rounder. Her breasts were… breasts. They were surprisingly perky and bigger than she remembered. Her legs were just as long, but more muscular. In fact, she was so much stronger than she used to be. Her legs were itching to run and jump.

Staring at her in the mirror was not the Devyn she was used to. This Devyn’s skin was flawless and hard like marble, yet looked silken and soft. Her eyes glowed red and were rounder, and her lashes were thicker and darker. Her freckles were gone, replaced by tough, smooth skin. Her cheekbones were higher up, and stronger. Her nose was smaller and lips plumper. Her pupils were round and big and crazed. She was Devyn 2.0. She was beautiful.

She dared to open her mouth. Two sharp fangs greeted her as she pulled her lips against her mouth in a snarl. Devyn gasped.

“Devyn,” a small voice said from behind the closed door. It was Shane.

“Look, uh, Leo said you were hungry. He sent you something to eat,” he insisted. Now that she thought of it, Devyn was famished. Her stomach growled like she hadn’t eat for days, and maybe she hadn’t. How long had she been out?

She reached for the door handle and opened it slightly. When she saw what was in Shane’s hand, she winced. A blood bag, filled with warm, sweet blood greeted her. Was it… human blood? Shane looked like he was going to be sick.

“Oh,” she murmured, opening the door further and grabbing the bag with a wary hand. His fingers bushed against hers, which were cold like ice. His skin was warm.

“It’s not human. It‘s deer,” Shane assured when he saw her fear.

She swallowed and offered him a small smile. The bag was warm in her hands, but something about it smelled funny. Gross, like dead animal. Devyn grabbed hold of the straw before bringing it to her lips. She could almost taste the maggots in the dead carcass as it rotted.
It stank. She couldn’t drink it. The thought of the warm liquid oozing down he throat made her feel sick.

“I-I can’t,” she whispered, dropping the straw.

“Sure you can. It was nothing, really,” he insisted, watching as she lowered the bag of blood.

“No. I mean I literally can’t do it. It smells worse than them.”

It took him a moment to realize she meant Sam and Leo.

“Oh….” He took the bag from her and motioned for her to follow. She did, but kept her distance from him. She looked around the oak hallways. The place was surprisingly clean, and smelled a lot like Sam and something fresh, like flowers. Daffodils, she noted. The two walked in silence, down the long hallway.

Devyn looked at the pictures that lined the walls. She spotted one and knew it was Shane. He had kept the boyish dimple on his left cheek. The picture was of him, a boy with dirty blond hair, and Sam, when they were about thirteen or fourteen. They played in front of a large cabin, with lot of windows. It kind of looked like the Winder’s place, just across the lake from where Malcolm and she had….

“When can I go home,” Devyn asked, her round eyes locking gaze with him. Shane bit his bottom lip.

“Leo said you should stay here for a while. Until you can… control yourself.”

Devyn narrowed her eyes and hissed at him. Shane jumped, slightly startled. “You think I’d hurt my father? I can control myself,” she insisted stubbornly.

“You’re a newborn. You’d attack the first thing you’d see that had a pulse,” Shane scoffed.

“Well then, what are you? I haven‘t torn off your head yet,” she hissed, lowering her voice. Shane stopped walking. They had reached a tall doorway, and Shane motioned for her to quiet.

“-they have to be long gone by now,” an unfamiliar man insisted. Devyn noted his voice wasn‘t manly and controlling like Leo‘s, but not taunting like Sam’s. “They’re nomadic.”

“But we have something they want,” another voice, Leo’s, Devyn recognized, boomed.

“We can’t just throw her out,” a third voice piped up. This one was female. “They’ll come after her. She’s like family to them.”

Devyn resisted the urge to hiss. She knew who they were talking about. Maeve, and the man with skin as pale as the moon. Despite Shane’s warning, she barreled into the room.

“I am not family to them,” she cried, baring her fangs. She was beyond angry. She felt as though she should tear someone’s head off for comparing her to them.

The three voices she had heard silenced. She recognized Leo, who was watching her, and Sam, who sat on the couch and was flipping through ESPN channels. She stared at the two unfamiliar people.

She actually recognized one. He had dirty blond hair and blue-green eyes. He had been in the picture that was hanging in the hallway. The third voice, the woman, was tall. Her face was slightly plump and her black hair was in a messy, greasy bun. She looked just like Sam, except she wasn’t extraordinarily beautiful. She was… human.

“Piper, this is Devyn,” Leo said quietly, gesturing between the two women.

“Leo, she’s beautiful,” Piper gasped, beaming before stepping forwards and wrapping her long arms around her. Devyn’s snarl slowly faded from her face. Piper smelled much sweeter than the blood in the bag. Her warm touch made Devyn’s fangs slide out from beneath her gums.

“Who is this, and why is she hugging me,” Devyn hissed. Sam smirked.

“Mom, back off. Shane’s already got dibs on her,” he teased. Devyn glanced at Shane to see his tan cheeks reddening. The third boy stayed slightly frozen. His long blond hair fell into his eyes as he watched Devyn slip out of Piper’s hug.

“What’s going on,” Shane asked, looking between his uncle and aunt.

“We’re deciding what we should do now,” Sam grinned, grabbing a hand full of potato chips from the bag in his lap and stuffing his mouth.

“And…?,” Devyn snapped, raising a dark brow.

“You’re going to stay with us for a while. We’re going to call up an old vampire friend.”

Even the word felt surreal and made Devyn’s skin crawl.

“So you do this a lot,” she asked, looking straight as Shane.

“No. We usually just kill them,” he said quietly. There was no malice in his voice, only truth. Devyn’s scowl crumbled.

“What happened to me,” she asked quietly, not looking anyone in the eye. She could feel her eyes growing wet. Was she… crying? She brought her fingers to her wet cheeks and realized to her horror it was blood. She was crying blood. Oh that’s just like some cruel ironic joke to her. She wiped her bloody cheeks and sniffled slightly.

“Shane had found you, when Rowan and Maeve were…. He got you out of there and came back here. Piper, she, um, gave you some of her blood, when you were changing. And now… well, now you’re okay,” Leo explained quickly. He was obviously uncomfortable explaining exactly what happened to an angry, vampire teenage girl. Devyn thought back to what Sam had told her earlier.

“What… What are human vampires?”

Everyone in the room quieted. They looked around, and Sam groaned.

“Dear lord, why does everyone look so excited to explain it to the bloodsucker,“ he cried out before looking around the room and then back at Devyn. She winced.
“Human vampires are like you. They look like humans, they act like humans. Hell, for a while they even kind of smell like them. And they’re weak. They somehow manage to attain human souls while they drink people dry. And then there are the Originals,” Sam explained.
“Originals are the oldest clan of vampires in the world; they don’t look like humans. Maeve is an original; been around the block and back a couple times. Rowan is just her shit-headed little pet. Originals have the power to change humans, and their bite can stop a werewolf from shifting. Human vampires are pretty much beautiful immortals that do the dirty bidding of the Originals.”

“Werewolves?”

“Well, yeah, what else did you think we were,” Sam laughed.

“You’re werewolves,” Devyn scoffed. she raised a brow in disbelief and waited for someone to tell her they were pulling her leg. No one looked at her. Shane shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Devyn was convinced this was all a strange dream. It had to be.

“Yes. Do you need proof,” Sam challenged, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” the blond kid shouted out. Sam laughed and rolled his eyes.

“Tell me more about them,” Devyn demanded, sitting down on the plaid couch in the middle of the room and crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Who? Maeve and Rowan?”

“No, Santa Claus,” Devyn said sarcastically, “Yes, Maeve and Rowan!”

Sam looked at the people gathered around him and shrugged. “What’s there to tell? Maeve’s been around before any of us. Rowan’s just her pet. He does the luring and the plotting. You know… they’re like… your blood parents. Literally.”

Devyn grit her teeth. She was not related to those… monsters.

“We have bigger problems than daddy issues, guys,” Shane insisted. “She can’t eat from the bags.”

“Well,” Sam drawled, “ did you shove it down her throat?”

“Shut up, Sam,” the blond kid and Shane said at the same time.

“Well then, Gabriel, enlighten us with some genius plan of yours,” Sam snapped at the blond boy.

“I think it’s hunting time,” Gabe shrugged.

“No! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Leo jumped, glaring at Gabriel from across the room.

“Yeah, shut up, Gabe,” Sam mimicked, slapping his friend upside the head. Devyn brought her fingers to her temples, which pounded. Was it possible for vampires to get headaches?

“I-I’m kind of tired. Could I... get some rest,” Devyn asked, biting her bottom lip faintly.

“I’ll show you,” Shane volunteered, smiling dopily. Devyn offered him a smile that revealed her fangs. He motioned for her to follow and she waved goodnight to everyone. Not that anyone was jumping to give the vampire a good night kiss…

She followed him back to the bedroom she had woken up in and smiled as she sat down on the blue comforter. Shane didn’t say anything as he began opening the closet doors.

“What are you doing,” she asked, looking over his shoulder to see a drawer full of boxers.

“Well, this is my room,” he drawled, “ and I kind of need my underwear. Is that okay with you?”

Devyn could feel the embarrassment bathing her cheeks. She could have blushed, when she was human…

“Why don’t you smell as bad as everyone else? Besides Piper, I think you smell the best out of all of them,” Devyn asked. Her curiosity was killing her. Her eyes wandered to his neck. She wondered how he would taste…

she didn't notice how he tensed when she said that. He dared to sniff himself, and slightly grinned.

“I’m like Sam; half human. But he’s rightful alpha… or I guess he is now.”

“What do you-”

“Goodnight, Devyn,” he interrupted, slinking towards the door before she could finish another question. He flickered off the light, and left her to sit on the bed, in the dark.

Impressum

Texte: I own this
Bildmaterialien: I got this from Google
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 22.12.2012

Alle Rechte vorbehalten

Widmung:
To Kayla, the girl who shoved The Immortal Rules down my throat. Well, I've crossed over to the dark side now ;)