Vampire friend vampire h.., p.1
Vampire Friend (Vampire Hero Book 2), page 1
a Vampire Hero novel
V. B. Andrian
Copyright © 2018 by V. B. Andrian
All rights reserved
Book cover by Addendum Designs
About The Author
To all those who believe in fate.
Let it guide you. It can’t go wrong.
He will give her everything…
Except for his heart…
Honking in the backseat of another person’s car wouldn’t be very polite, but I could barely hold it down.
Bloody United States and their right-handed traffic!
I was merely a passenger in the bloody taxi, and I was seriously about to honk! Or upchuck. I really had to start speaking American now. Get rid of my accent too. Blend right in.
I still couldn’t believe I’d done it. I’d never thought Mother would have allowed me to leave London, and there was a huge part of me that was lamenting the loss of my beautiful city. But I could stay no longer. Staying would have meant having Mother around all the time. And not being able to escape Charles either.
SOS by Indila started ringing from my purse. I groaned.
Speak of the devil.
I smiled at myself. Devil was the most appropriate word to describe Mother. At least she was ringing to a good song. If I had to endure a phone call from her, at least I would put a nice ringtone to it. I sobered up as I brought the speaker to my ear.
A small pause and then, “I didn’t expect you to answer.”
Then why in the bloody hell did you call? “Why wouldn’t I, Mother?” I asked in the most indifferent tone I could manage.
“Well… Did you land well?” she changed the subject.
“I did. I landed about forty minutes ago and am heading to the University as we speak.”
Another pause and then a huffing sound. “I really wished you would have given up on this dumb idea by now.”
I tried holding my rising anger in check. “It’s not a dumb idea, Mother. It’s college. One of the best in the world.”
“Oxford is the best. And you have an open position waiting for you there. Come back, Alicia. There is nothing for you in the United States.”
There was no way I could hold back all of my anger. Some of it slipped out of my mouth. “There is nothing for me in the United Kingdom either, Mother.”
Another pause. “Of course there is. There is me and there is Charles. There is the company. Your home is here, Alicia. Your future. Why would you leave it?”
Alright. No way was I having that discussion again. “I have to go, Mother. I’m almost there and I have… things to do.”
“Alright. Whenever you are ready simply phone me and I will make arrangements for everything. William will be thrilled when you come back. He will make sure you are accepted in Oxford the moment you return. He is the dean after all.”
What? “I’m not coming back, Mother. Not any time soon anyway.”
“Of course, dear.” She sounded like she wasn’t even speaking to me. In fact, she probably wasn’t. “Talk to you soon.”
Then she hung up. And I was left staring at the bloody mobile with my mouth hanging open.
“Here we are, miss,” the taxi-driver called.
I looked outside the window at the main building of UCLA. I suddenly had the collywobbles. A wholly different kind of dizziness, not like I was feeling a while ago from driving on the wrong – well, right in this country – side of the lane. The kind that made my stomach sink and cold sweat dripping from my forehead, at the same moment I felt like clapping my hands in excitement.
I was really doing this. I was about to officially register in UCLA.
I paid the fair and the driver helped me with my bag. I’d left most of my luggage at the airport and would pick them up as soon as I was settled in my dormitory room. I thanked him and he gave me a kind smile, before getting back in his car and driving off.
Taking a deep breath, I walked into the building and found my way to the registration desk. I had already contacted the administration via phone, explaining I would be on my way from England, and they’d been kind enough to help me by pre-registering my classes. Now I would only have to confirm everything.
“Good morning,” I greeted the man behind the counter. He had dark brown hair with a little gray peppered at his temples. He was wearing slacks and a shirt, buttoned all the way to his throat, with a bow-tie around the collar. I wondered how he wasn’t burning up with all those clothes at such a hot day.
Not that I was in a better state, coming from London.
He smiled big and extended his hand. “Good morning, miss. And your name is?”
I gave him my slightly trembling hand. “Alicia Dover, sir.”
He raised his eyebrows. “British?” he guessed.
I wonder what gave me away?
I held back a nervous giggle that almost bubbled up. “British-American in fact. Dual citizenship. Mother British, father American. But I was raised in London. Hence the accent.” And I was rambling. I bit my lip to stifle the verbal diarrhea.
He grinned. “Well, welcome to your other part of your nationality, Alicia. How do you like the States so far?”
I shrugged. “Only landed a while ago, actually. Haven’t seen any of it.”
He winced. “You got a red-eye over the Pond? That had to suck.”
I smiled, feeling a little more relaxed than when I’d first walked in. “Doesn’t really deserve the title of red-eye since I got plenty of sleep. I love London, but I was relieved to leave it. In fact, I’ve had the best sleep in years during the flight.”
I bit my lip again. I was blabbering, I knew it. Always happened when I was too nervous or too excited. And at the moment I was both.
He cocked an eyebrow. “There’s a story there, I’m sure.” He waited as if I was going to give him the story of my life.
I bit my lip and smiled lopsidedly.
“Right,” he said, winking. “Well, here is your file, Miss Dover. It includes a map, a schedule of all your classes, the key to your dorm-room and any other information you might need. I’m Samwell Sommers, or Professor Sommers as you’ll learn to call me.”
My eyes opened wide. “You’re a professor?”
He laughed. “Professor! I like the accent. Makes me want to listen to Pink Floyd. Yes, I’m the Biology professor,” he tried saying the last word with an English accent and I smiled – he’d nailed it – “and we’ll be seeing each other again. I saw you’re going to be majoring in Science and minoring in Computer Science? Sounds interesting.”
I nodded. “My father and I always dreamed of me becoming a doctor.” A sheer sadness overcame me at the memory of my father. I missed him so very much.
“Well, I hope you’ll make him proud. Now sit there so I can get your picture for your ID.”
I took the seat he was gesturing at and offered a small smile. I hated being photographed. Probably because Mother always tortured me by acting like I was her personal Barbie doll, and liked
Thankfully the photograph part ended almost immediately. “Your ID will be ready tomorrow, and you can pick it up right here. And I’ll see you on Monday at my lab, alright?”
I thanked him and went back outside. That was over sooner than I’d expected. Now I had to find my dormitory room.
Using the information on my dossier, I was able to find my way to my assigned room, and slid the key-card in front of the lock.
It flashed red.
I tried again and again, but with the same outcome.
“Bloody…” I yanked desperately at the knob. It wouldn’t budge, and I would have to go over to the registration desk to ask for another key-card. First my Mother phoning me and now the key-card… this day was not starting well at all.
The door was yanked open from the inside and I blinked rapidly in surprise. “What?” the girl standing behind it hissed with narrowed eyes.
“Um… Thank you for opening the door. My name is Alicia Dover and I was assigned this room, but the key-card wouldn’t work and—”
“Of course it wouldn’t work,” she huffed in exasperation and I raised both of my eyebrows. “I’d locked it from the inside.”
“Um… alright,” I said, unsure of what to think about that. I looked at her. She was blond, but it was apparent she was dying her hair. I was all of a sudden very proud of my naturally golden mane.
I took a reluctant step forward, assuming she would step aside so I could step in. She didn’t budge.
“So what do you want now?” she asked, obviously annoyed by my persistence.
“Um, I would like to, um, get into the room?”
She huffed again, but continued blocking my way. “I specifically asked not to have a roommate.”
I blinked at her. Was this girl for real? “I cannot answer that question. I was just given instructions to come to this room. Now, would you be so kind as to step aside so that I could come in? I’ve been through a long flight, and would like to arrange for someone to bring my left-luggage and take a shower.”
“It wasn’t a question. I don’t want a roommate.”
My patience was wearing thin. “I really cannot do anything about that. You’ll have to talk to the administration about it. Until then, please let me in.”
She huffed for the third time and stepped aside, and I squeezed through the door before she could block me again.
A look around the room and was even more confused than before. It was fairly large, bags of space for at least two people to share. And, if I were in the administration, I wouldn’t waste so much space on only one person either.
I turned to look at the false-blond. She was standing closer than I’d expected and I took a step back in astonishment. She was taller than me – no surprise there since I was merely one-fifty-five meters tall, which would translate at about five foot one – and she was standing with her hands folded under her obviously-bigger-than-mine breasts. She had to be at least a C-cup and I was barely a B. Plus, she was scowling at me with her icy blue eyes, while I only had my innocent, light brown ones to look back at her.
All of a sudden, I would have liked for a roommate-less room too.
“Which side is yours?” I asked, trying to make my voice sound firm.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Both.”
I sighed in frustration. “Please, um… I don’t even know your name.”
“Julia Walters,” she answered after a pregnant pause, and looked at me pointedly. Was I supposed to know her name?
“Alright, Julia Walters. This situation is not going to be fixed until you go to the administration and ask for a single room. So, until that happens, you and I have to endure one another. Please, let us not make matters more difficult. If you cannot pick a side, I’ll pick first.”
She glowered at me before pointing at the bed behind her. “That one is mine.”
Pleased to finally be getting somewhere, I nodded. “Marvelous. Then I’ll take the other one. And will you please not lock the door again until it’s confirmed I’ll be switching rooms?” I was fairly certain the administration would deny her request for a single, but I wasn’t willing to discuss it any further.
She nodded, seemingly pleased with the possibility of having me out of the room as soon as possible.
Without another word, I placed my travel-bag on my bed and unzipped it. The plan was to take a shower and then find a taxi to pick up my left-luggage. Deciding to completely ignore – at least for the rest of the day – the scowling girl behind me, I picked up the necessities and entered the small bathroom.
Several hours later, I’d finished unpacking my luggage, had taken a second shower and had the rest of the day free. And nothing to fill it with.
My roommate had gone out a while ago, and at first I considered staying in and reading a book. But then I changed my mind. That was what I would have done back in London. I was eighteen years old, and I was as boring as an old lady. So, against my own character, I took my key-card – made sure the lock was not turned from the inside – took the map of the campus and decided to explore.
The University was huge. I could see it on the map, but it felt overwhelming in reality. I rode the shuttle and chose buildings from my map in random to explore. I made sure to mark each location with a pencil, to remember where I’d visited.
I was exploring for about an hour and a half when I found myself in the Music building. I chanced going inside, even though I wasn’t sure if it was allowed or not. The hallways were empty, as were all the rooms. Or at least that’s what I thought at first.
I was about to start heading outside when the clear sound of a piano reached my ears. I immediately stopped moving, blinking, breathing, and generally doing anything other than listening. My Dad used to play the piano and sing to me whenever he could. I hadn’t heard a real performance since he’d died, and I felt a strange pang in my chest. It wasn’t pain, but felt more like longing.
Walking on my tip-toes to avoid making noise over the exquisite melody – it was Yiruma’s River Flows In You; I knew it well since it was my favorite – I searched for its origin. The sound guided me to a big room that looked like a theater. Maybe it was.
Up on the stage was a white grand piano. The mere sight of it almost brought tears to my eyes. And sitting in front of it was a young man playing my favorite melody in the world.
Without having a clue on how, my legs brought me closer. Before I knew it, I was stepping on the stage, right behind the pianist and standing there, completely mesmerized.
My fingers glided over the black-and-white keys. I could always lose myself in the music. Mostly my own music, but Yiruma’s River Flows In You had a special place in my heart. It was untainted. Untainted by the memories and the pain.
I’d told Kay and Evy that I was doing okay, but it wasn’t entirely true. I still couldn’t sleep at night and when I did, I would still dream about her. See her smiling at me with her hazel eyes and her blond – strawberry-blond according to her – hair. And then the image would shift, and she’d be standing in front of me pale and sad, with blood trickling down her neck. It was at that point that I’d usually wake up, often crying, other times cursing, but always, always, feeling empty.
I was half-way through the song when I heard someone approaching. I wasn’t going to pay any attention though. Being a Music major I was allowed to play the grand piano here, and no one would say anything to me either way. Everyone knew what had happened last year before Christmas break, and they felt too sorry for me to say anything.
It was the worst part of coming back. The pity in everyone’s eyes. I didn’t only have to endure the pain of losing her, but also the constant reminder of everyone knowing. The ‘I’m so sorry’ and ‘You must miss her’ comments almost made me laugh. Almost.
The person behind me moved and came to my side. In my peripheral vision I saw it was a girl. She seemed small, and for a second I wondered if maybe she was lost. I d
She remained silent, just standing there, watching me. I could feel her gaze on my fingers, which was strange. Girls would usually stare at my face or my body – often at my crotch or my ass. Plus, I’d never felt someone’s gaze on me. It was like a physical touch, grazing my hands, stroking my fingers.
I finished the piece, and with my fingers still on the final keys, I looked up at her.
I was right, she was small. She had to be about five feet tall as I compared her to the piano’s height. Her form seemed tiny, but her hips had the perfect curve, as did her breasts – small but seemingly perfect. Her hair was the lightest, purest blond shade I’d ever seen. It was straight, reaching almost to her waist, and she had bangs over her forehead, the edges of it almost sinking in her eyes, that were covered by thick-framed glasses. Her skin was fair and bright, and she had faint freckles on her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.
But the weirdest part was that she was wearing too heavy clothing for such a hot day – and in SoCal. Long pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Just looking at her made me want to dive in a pool or something.
I smiled. She was cute.
And she was still staring at my fingers.
“Can I help you?” I asked in a soft voice.
She almost jumped, like she’d been jolted by electricity, and I held back my laughter. Her eyes finally came up, causing my breath to almost catch as I was able to look into them. If I had to describe their color I’d say they were made of pure gold. They had the color of honey or amber, and made her look at once smarter and more beautiful.
Her mouth opened and closed several times as her eyes roamed over my face. “I was just…” she started in a weak voice and then cleared her throat before starting to ramble. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you. I heard you playing and it was beautiful. I hadn’t meant to barge in like this. It’s just that I absolutely adore that song and my father used to play it for me. I don’t even know why I came in here.” She bit her lower lip and my gaze dropped there. She had full, bow-shaped lips that turned down at the corners. “I’m sorry,” she said again, still biting her lip as if she was doing it to keep her mouth from talking too much.
by V. B. Andrian have rating 4 out of 5 / Based on32 votes