Southern Exposure Read online

Southern Exposure

  By Lari Smythe

  Copyright 2013 Lari Smythe

  ISBN 9781301583607

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  Chapter 1

  "Don't even think about it," I seethed through clenched teeth, unconsciously crushing the lip of the mahogany dresser drawer. The splintered shards of wood fell from my hands as I stepped back to face the open doorway. "You won't stop me this time—I swear."

  Elizabeth, the maternal figure of our coven, stepped into view just outside my bedroom door. Her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing my demeanor carefully. Even with my youthful vampire strength, she was undeniably more powerful. Her face appeared calm—restrained, but the way she stood, one foot slightly behind the other, knees bent, arms loose and to the front, said otherwise. The plaster repairs from last year's conversation still marred the wall around the door frame. I instinctively sank into a similar combative posture. Deep down I knew it was pointless, even if I could overpower her, the others would be close by.

  "Izzy, is there nothing I can say?" Her soft southern drawl seemed pained.

  "No."

  "You realize this could jeopardize the entire family?"

  "Seriously? You know I'm not part of this family."

  "That's your choice."

  "Right, blame it all on me. That's so typical."

  "We've done everything possible to make the transition as easy—"

  "Easy!" I huffed. "Are you kidding me?"

  "I don't understand your attitude, you must realize our way is easier in a family setting." She stepped into the doorway, obviously to block my path.

  If it was going to be like that, I was ready. Maybe I would have better luck this year. "Again with the family. Maybe I don't like your way. Maybe I prefer human blood over anemic animals."

  The corner of Elizabeth's mouth twitched upward, triumphantly. "If that's the way you feel, I really can't let you go." She paused, and then added, "For your own sake, of course."

  "Stop it! Just stop it. You know that's not what I meant. Besides, it's just school. It's no big deal."

  Elizabeth's face turned serious again. "Surrounded by humans is a very big deal." Her voice was stern, but lacked the finality of last year's confrontation. Maybe I had a chance.

  I choked back my anger and tried to reason with her. "Okay, I'll give you that, but I can do this. I know I can. I've practiced being around them, in stores, the mall; I can control my thirst."

  Elizabeth's gaze raked over me in sudden awareness. "You're not seriously going to wear—"

  I made a slicing motion with my hand to cut her off. "The whole Emo Goth thing is perfect."

  "Emo, Goth thing?"

  "Of course you don't understand. It's not like you get out much."

  Her lips tightened—I'd hit below the belt—wait, was she playing me, trying to provoke another confrontation? Don't go there I told myself. It's what she wants. I pressed my hands partially into the pockets of my tight black jeans. I flinched, unprepared for her touch, but her hands gently traced my arms and then drew my hands toward her. The flared sleeves of my purple, velvet top fanned open as her thumbs traced my glossy, black fingernails curiously and then brushed away the splintered shards of wood. She released my hands and stepped back.

  "And the black lipstick?" She murmured.

  "It's all part of the getup." I pulled my hair to the side, a nervous fidget, one she knew. She was going to win, just like last year. "I've seen—" my voice broke, "I've seen a girl who dresses this way—the other kids—they shy away from her."

  "That seems like a valid consideration." Elizabeth eased back into the doorway. "Are you sure about this, Izzy?"

  I wanted to tell her I was anything but sure, yet at the same time, I knew if I showed the least bit of apprehension she would never let me go. At seventeen, school was the only thing I could think of that might help me regain the memory of my human life. If I was going to find and destroy the vampire that had done this to me, I needed to know who I had been. Nothing else had worked. The coven guarded my secret tenaciously. School had to be the key.

  "I'll be fine, promise. Besides, you're going to have Tink keep an eye on me anyway, aren't you?"

  There was a moment of mock surprise on Elizabeth's face. "If you'd like."

  "You always do that," I grumbled.

  "What?"

  "You know, get me to say or do what you want."

  "I don't know what you're talking—"

  "I need to go." I surprised myself with the courage to say it straight out. "I don't want to attract attention by being late on the first day." Was I going to pull this off?

  Elizabeth backed into the hallway as I stepped toward the door. I cautiously eased through the doorway. Benjamin, Elizabeth's mate and the father figure of the coven was standing by her side to the left of the door. Their eyes were intense, measuring, but neither interfered as I backed down the hall toward the staircase. I was halfway down the stairs when Benjamin spoke.

  "Good luck, Izzy," he called softly.

  "Your paperwork is on the table," Elizabeth added.

  I grabbed the papers and escaped through the kitchen. Was this really happening? I always thought they suspected that this was about more than just education and their suspicions would be enough that they'd never let me go, yet here I was on my way to the bus stop. Could revenge be within my grasp?

  "Hey, Izzy," a familiar voice called from the garage. "Got a minute?"

  "Tink?" I rounded the corner and looked cautiously inside. Tink, short for Tolliver, was my brother of sorts. He was leaning against a large tarp covered object that I half expected to be some sort of trap.

  "Looks like ya made it this far."

  "This far?" The hair on my neck prickled as my senses kicked up another notch. I sunk into a more combative stance.

  "Don't be like that. I was just kiddin'. Guess it's about time." He patted the tarp next to him that resounded with the metallic resonance of a timpani drum. "Figured, since you'd be in those tiny classrooms with 'em all day, you might not want to be crammed in a bus load of 'em."

  "What did you do?"

  Tink yanked back the tarp with a whoosh to reveal a beautiful, black car with an elegant, cursive chrome emblem on the rear quarter panel with the word, Malibu.

  "Are you kidding me?"

  Tink was beaming, his smile contagious if not for my apprehension. "You're going for what, a junior? Figure a junior should have a nice set of wheels. It's a 1966 Chevy in metallic black sapphire."

  "Tink?" I cautioned, realizing this was probably another attempt to win my favor. I had originally thought I was created for Tink since he was the only single one in the coven. Although I was sure the Faulkners knew where I came from, I was just as sure none of them had actually changed me.

  "Give it up, you know it's not like that," he replied, removing the piece of straw that he always kept in the corner of his mouth. "We're family and I didn't have anything to do with your change. None of us did. We would never do that."

  "But you know who did," I accused.

  Tink shook his head. "Can't we just be friends, maybe even brother and sister?" He stuck the piece of straw back in his mouth.

  I momentarily let my guard down. "I never really blamed you. It's just—I hate this. I hate being a monster—I hate whoever—" I caught myself before I said too much.

  "You're not a monster," Tink said before changing the subject. He opened the
door and ushered me into the driver's seat. "It's a stick, like my pickup. You can drive one, right?"

  I shrugged, not exactly sure what he meant.

  "The gear shift is there between the seats and the clutch next to the brake." He mimicked the action of shifting gears. "Clutch—first gear, clutch—second gear, like that until you're in fourth." He chuckled. "You'll catch on. Go ahead, fire her up."

  "Her? I don't think so." I turned the ignition key and my sleek, black beauty came to life with an animalistic roar. I gunned the engine, the torque rocking the car from side-to-side.

  "Sounds sweet, huh?" Tink said, leaning in against the door.

  "It feels angry—it suits me."

  Tink's smile faded as he stepped back from the door. "Always with the anger," he accused.

  "Then tell me who did this to me."

  He turned away.

  "Come on Tink, I know Elizabeth—"

  He wheeled around, his eyes hard now. "You don't know anything."

  "Then tell me."

  Tink shook his head with finality, and then walked briskly to the garage door where he stopped and turned back. "Elizabeth wanted me to remind you to be careful. She said you should remember to breathe, blink your eyes and move your arms and legs now and then. You know, fidget. Heck, just act like them." He hesitated as if considering and then added, "Just be careful. I'd hate to see anything happen to you."

  "You'll be close by, right?" I asked, but he was gone. I glanced down at the shifter and took hold of the polished aluminum T-grip engraved with the name Hurst. Remembering what Tink said, I pushed it into gear and eased out of the garage.