Mint was a scent associated with burial. With the dead. Just as mint masked the smell of rotting corpses, if one merely ripped open vampire flesh, their true stench would be released. None of these creatures looked dead, of course.
And there were three of them.
A will-o-the-wisp-like female with east-Asian features lead the group. Her gait was like a little flame: loose and bouncy, like she was about to pop like the crackle along a wick. She tugged along a stiff-backed brunette male, who had the stereotypical vampiric inhumanness in the way he prowled toward his seat. Albeit, it appeared he was trying to lean backward and out of the posture. It made him appear mildly unbalanced, like a scale trying to reach equilibrium.
And, finally, a ginger male with an oddly youthful look to him. He couldn't have been much more than eighteen, if that, when he'd stopped aging. Odd. The vast majority of, if not all, humans under the age of twenty couldn't survive vampirization. His preppy attire matched his proper, rolling gait.
"Say, Sara," Allie began, flipping open her laptop, and I jumped, "Is that an Italian accent?"
"Oh, yeah, Italian mother," I said with a nod, fidgeting with my notebook and pens. My hands shook like the last leaves on an autumn tree-branch. "My Dad's American, though."
My eyes never left the three vampires. They were moving toward the back of the room.
Toward us.
"Oh, shoot, you're from Europe?"
"Half my genes are," I said with a twitchy shrug, making up a half-baked fib on the spot, "Italian was my first language, but I grew up in LA. Did you both grow up here in Homer?"
Adrenaline shook my limbs as the overwhelming smell of peppermint and aged-ice drew closer. It was... too much. My fingers slipped along my pen, fumbling while I simply held it.
I was trained to deal with their kind. I could handle this. I could.
But what an odd time and place for them to show their faces. What kind of horrid luck was this? Vampires rarely integrated into environments with rigorous schedules or record-keeping. The climate may have been perfect, but they always avoided law enforcement, steady jobs, and school.
The trio pushed into the aisle in front of ours, the female first. She passed in front of me and I clenched a fist round my pen.
What are they doing here? I wondered.
Now that answer was obvious:
A room full of naive college-aged humans? They were here to hunt. Their choice in location was predatory even by human sensibilities. Whether to simply dupe children out of a pint of blood or rob them of their lives entirely, I didn't know.
But to take on three at once? Could I isolate each? If I'd had even just a squad of three to four fighters, not a full Century, I could delegate. Get the three vampires split up. But on my own?
You can do this, I reminded myself.
"Sara?" Cat asked.
"Hm?"
"I was asking if you'd join the service fraternity," Allie prompted, eyebrows raised as her gaze flicked between me and the vampires. "There's wasn't a chapter down in Homer... till Yours Truly put the paperwork together."
"Oh, yeah, maybe I'll do that instead of joining the local orchestra. Probably should think about my career first before hobbies..."
The vampires settled before us, though not without one of them - the ginger who sat right in front of me - tilting his head sideways to glance at us. The glare was searing, interrogatory.
"Orchestra?" Cat asked eagerly.
"I was hoping to join the Peninsula Orchestra with some of my spare time, but it looks like I won't have very much of that."
"What do you play?"
"Violin. Do you play an instrument? You perked up when I mentioned it..."
"No, but my sister does!" she enthused.
That damn ginger-male kept his head cocked.
Eavesdropping tick, I thought, then swallowed hard.
Had they sat near me on purpose? Had they been drawn to my scent? After all, my people had been designed to lure in predators, much like carnivorous plants. If only I'd learned a few stealth spells, something like Phantasm, to hide my scent, voice, and appearance. But I'd specialized as a Battle Mage. I was ill-prepared for an operation like this.
Were they hunting me?
This time, my stomach dropped entirely. That awfully familiar, gaping pit of anxiety began to writhe and yawn within me. With appropriate backup, I could take out hoards. Alone, I wouldn't be able to cast for even a second before they'd be upon me.
Think!
"What's the service fraternity entail?" I asked Allie instead.
Nothing strategic came to mind as Allie leaped into her plans. At this rate, my goal was simply to bore the ginger leech to death.
"We'll need to fund-raise," Allie gushed, "I was thinking of doing a car wash and a talent show. Maybe a bake sale? Definitely a community spring-cleanup, but that's just volunteer work. Still, the community needs that sort of thing. We certainly want to do a formal at the end of each semester-"
"Let's see how many members we have first," Cat cautioned, "Then we can see if that warrants a formal."
One of the ticks turned. Every muscle in my body went taut.
"What about the business and leadership events?" the female asked.
With a closer look at her oval face and delicate cheekbones, I could tell that her thinness was simply a side-effect of her body type rather than any malnutrition. Not that I'd known any vampire to purposefully starve themselves.
"Oh, don't worry, there will be plenty of workshops," Allie laughed, unconcerned, then waved a hand down the line at me, "Kira, this is our newest friend and frat member - sans paperwork and initiation fees - Sara. Sara, Kira."
Kira's eyes roved over to me.
"Hey," Kira gave a brief smile, I gave a stiff nod, then her eyes ranged back to Allie.
The pair began chattering as Cat, beside me, contentedly began tapping away on her computer. I stayed stock-still. There had been something different in her eyes as compared to the average vampire. Something off. But what had it been?
What does it matter, I thought reflexively, it doesn't change what you need to do.
What I needed to do. What I was slowly realizing I might not be able to do. Not on my own. Not with how badly my fingers shook. I set my pen down and hid my hands in my lap.
Coalm is the mind, calm is the Spirit.
The pit of my stomach was slowly re-materializing and, with it, a horrible roiling nausea. I didn't have time to mull that over, however, as class began. The female turned back around, facing forward and slumping forward to prop her chin petulantly in her hands after having been interrupted. My own back, stiff with anxiety and tension, ached.
I blinked, then reanalyzed her posture: it was odd, wasn't it?
It was relaxed. Vampires, with their unnatural bodies, didn't feel fatigue or soreness as humans did. They moved with the utmost efficiency in smooth stalking and sat properly without having need to fidget or shift. They exhibited entirely inhuman behavior.
But, again, I was struck as I watched her bob a foot, as if in boredom. A well-executed human-tic. The shivering motion jiggled the wolf-cut hairstyle round her ears.
I turned my eyes to the other two:
The stiff brunette male raised a robotic hand to his wavy mullet, scratching unnecessarily hard at the back of his head. Likely the spot where he instinctively felt my stare. He'd likely been trying to play down the predatory lean to his gait earlier, but now he was now trying to play up the tic. It was... a little painful to watch. Such actions came naturally to the female beside him.
Just as I moved my gaze to him, the ginger leech right before me leaned back in his chair, causing it to let out a creak in protest. Again, a well-done tic. He crossed his arms and puffed a sigh. Mint rolled afresh through the air and I flared my nostrils.
Scent was a good tell. When the female had turned earlier, I'd managed to catch a milder spearmint. From the ginger before me, I got a strong waft of spearmint moving toward peppermint - sharp but still sweet. And when the brunette had moved, I'd scented a full peppermint.
Spearmint to peppermint to wintergreen: the sharper the mint, the older the vampire. Going on age alone, the mulleted-male was the greatest threat.
A slight motion caught my eye and I stiffened, averting my gaze.
Slowly, the ginger-male's head turned again. The outline of his sloping nose was suddenly in stark-profile. One of his green eyes fixed sharply upon me. I forced my posture to relax under that predatory glare: leaning forward to prop my chin on my fist as I watched the professor scroll through a projection of the syllabus.
It seemed to work. Ginger faced-front again.
I grimaced and lowered my gaze to inspect the back of his head. From a peripheral view of his side-profile, I hadn't been able to determine if these vampires wore makeup. In the case of an accidental exposure to sunlight, UV makeups could sometimes buy vampires extra minute before incineration. Perhaps it was so overcast in this locale that they didn't even need to bother with that.
Or they have charmed items.
My stomach flipped again. That would imply that they could have a witch at their disposal: either some unfortunate individual they'd coerced into doing their bidding or a willing black-magic caster. It remained to be seen, however, if they'd even gotten their frigid, greedy fingers on such items in the first place. I narrowed my eyes and took a breath, focusing:
[Revalare]
The nonverbal detection spell shivered in the air and the itching of nearby magic tingled at my awareness. Casting had another unintended consequence, however. The female vampire stopped bobbing her foot. From my periphery, I saw the skin at the corner of her eye pinch as if she'd narrowed it.
Uh oh.
Vampires shouldn't be able to sense nonverbal concentration spells. They were different from magic circles or glyphs, both of which glowed silver upon activation. These were meant to hide spell-work and intent.
Get information fast.
Their magical residue had a low, dismal itch as if it were a slowly wafting stench rather than a sensory sensation. That signal was unique to vampires. Aside from that, however, there were no other residues: no magic items.
I released my concentration.
The exercise had revealed a second bit of unexpected, yet unfortunate information. I glanced at the female vampire again, watching as she resumed bobbing her foot. She could very-well be abled: capable of an extra ability beyond the baseline attributes of vampirism. Her reaction had been very minor, yet it was impressive she sensed me at all. I should've been cloaked.
Merda, I cursed internally.
The ability to recognize active magic could be something akin to Danger Sense, one of the more common abilities among abled vampires next to Empathy, the ability to sense or manipulate emotions. If one of my targets had to be abled, I supposed a standard ability was preferable to something rare like Mind Reading. Still, abled vampires, in and of themselves, were such a rare occurrence...
I set a hand on my stomach again. This time to self-soothe. Where my palm warmed the fabric was where the family crest was tattooed into the dip of my hip. The intricate magic circle not only allowed me access to boundaries cast by other Moonchild Mages, not only allowed for telepathic connection between other wearers of the tattoo during battle, but also guarded against external magics. Cloaked me from their detection and warded against their attacks.
It should work against abled vampires. Unless a vampire was significantly powerful... perhaps I should reassess which of these was most dangerous.
Again, my eyes flicked to the female.
Should I test her again?
No. There were no other spells worth secretly casting at this time. At least, not in a room full of unsuspecting humans. If a fight were to break out, they'd be collateral damage. I stiffened as the ginger male began to fidget with his backpack, pulling it close. With crisp motions, he closed his laptop and slipped it into the bag.
He's leaving?
I glanced at the projector. We were just over halfway done. My eyes swept the room, my ears perked. There were voices outside... was he on the prowl? About to steal one of those unsuspecting students away into the tangled Alaskan brush?
Not on my watch, I gritted my teeth.
Just as quickly as he, I leaned over to swipe a tampon from my bag. Not that I had need of it. But Cat's eyes followed the obvious motion and, when I raised my gaze to hers apologetically, she merely gave an understanding nod. In my periphery, I caught the ginger-leech also stealing a curious glance.
Good. I could be stealthy if I tried...
Ginger slid his way along the row of seats, watching me closely out of the corner of his eye. I slid the tampon into my back pocket with an absentminded air. He continued to eye me warily. As we walked down the aisleway, I examined his back, freed from his inspection.
He had a wiry, mature frame with subtle muscling, not necessarily built, but more of a subtle blue-collar strength. A juxtaposition, given the preppy button-down peeking out from underneath the crewneck collar of his navy sweater. But not an odd dichotomy. Vampires tended to move up quickly in the world given their unfair advantages.
With a quick-step, I slipped through the door he hadn't bothered to hold open. I got through just as it clicked closed. Then nearly yelped as I ran straight into the solid plane of his back.
I bounced back, skittering a few steps into the wall beside the door. Panic fluttered in my chest like a trapped bird and a tremor wracked my body. The male simply watched through his periphery, brows furrowed.
"Why are you following me?"
His voice was incredibly low, another contradiction to his youth.
"I'm using the bathroom," I scowled.
"No you're not."
Wait... merda-
Of course. Vampires had a keen sense of smell. As uncomfortable a fact as it was, he could likely tell I wasn't menstruating. The tampon ruse had only been enough to fool humans.
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
"Well?" he prompted, eyebrows raised.
"Just... I noticed you watching us earlier. Thought I might... try to..."
To what?
My insides roiled with disgust as I considered my next words.
"...to ask you out," I bit out.
That seemed to jar him. He quieted. It was then that I realized, I probably could've pressed the bathroom issue. Perhaps that was what he'd been expecting me to do. It had been weird of me to fold so easily, hadn't it?
Cazzo, I'm terrible at this...
His lips thinned, jaw flexing. The motion put my shoulders up near my ears with anxiety. I knew the agony that a vampire's teeth, a vampire's venom, could cause. A few times, he opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he furrowed his brow.
And finally, "I'm kind of a loner."
I chewed my lower lip against a twisted, bitter smirk, "I figured. What with ditching class early and all."
"I'm a loner for a reason."
I snorted in spite of myself, though I fought the urge to curl my lip back. Thankfully, the lobby was empty. Whatever I needed to do, whatever he pressed me to do after I goaded him into being reckless, I could do safely. I could eliminate him here. Quickly.
"Let me guess," I sneered, crossing my arms over my chest, "You're an emo kid still into My Chemical Romance..." -I wrinkled my nose, exaggerating my thoughtful expression "-No, no, you were the nerd who reminded the teacher to collect homework..."
Ginger turned to face me fully, though his brows dropped from confusion and skewed into something between shock and mild frustration. Satisfaction zinged through my stomach.
"Nope! I've got it!" I proclaimed, pointing a finger gun accusingly at his chest, "You're the creep with a foot fetish-"
"You were closest with the first one-"
"Definitely the foot fetish, then," I cut him off, tapping my lower lip thoughtfully beneath a scathing glare, "Just a simple rejection would've sufficed, you know. Don't hit me with a line as terrible as that.
"'Loner for a reason?' The reason is your collection of stolen girls' shoes covered in whatever excitement you reap from them. The reason is, if you let me get too close to you, I might smell them. And that would be embarrassing, to say the least."
He shook his head, exasperated.
I shrugged, repeating, "Could've just said 'no', buddy."
"What's your deal then?" he interrogated, lowering his voice to a lethal whisper, "No, wait-" he mocked me "-let me guess..."
He folded his arms stiffly, lifting his chin sharply as if staring at the ceiling in thought, a harsh mimicry of my own posture, "You're the high-pitched ditz that thinks saying mean things is cute.
"No, you're the girl that's 'not like other girls' cause she re-wears ratty sweaters three-sizes too big... No! You're the spoiled brat whose brain has atrophied because you've skated through life on your slightly-above-average looks alone."
I narrowed my eyes.
He shrugged, "Could've stayed in your seat."
And, as I glared at him, meeting those dark, hunter-green eyes - dark with thirst - I finally noticed what was so off about them. The same thing I'd noted on the female before. Around the pupil, where a ring of red usually bled into the natural color, was a silver tinge instead.
Silver? The color of purity? On a vampire?
He turned on his heel, managing a few strides away before I broke out of my shock. I couldn't let a thirsty vampire leave. Silver or red aside, with eyes that dark he was certainly headed out on a hunt.
"Where are you going?" I demanded.
He froze. I stiffened, boring a hole in the back of his head with the heat of my gaze.
"You'll be safe in getting there?" I bit out when he stayed silent.
Then I nipped at my tongue. There were better things to say. Spells. Incapacitating spells. To properly stop that leech in his tracks. But my mind was suddenly void. Fuzzing over with static.
Again, he turned. One of his intense, green eyes affixed on me.
Oh no.
I wasn't ready for this.
In a quick turn, he whirled and approached.
I'm not ready!
Clenching my fists, I broke into a split stance, feet shuffling upon the tiled floor. But before I could bring my hand up to cast a spell, to fight, he stopped just within arm's reach.
His deep, jittering eyes lasered through me and his jaw flexed once again. Fear rooted me to the spot. My eyes flicked between each of his, measuring their color, the darkness of them: the thirst. The quivering anxiety in my gut was the only other part of my body able to move.
I couldn't do this! I couldn't fight!
"I can handle myself," he finally hissed through clenched teeth, fanning his breath down into my face, "You're the one who ought to be more careful."
With that, he turned on his heel and swept from the lobby.