Midnight

By Kathryn Moreno

Five friends: Caleb, Leion, Dean, Armand and Zahir, attend Astoria High School, like every other day until five new students arrive. From the minute they walked into their classroom the boys got a feeling that they didn't want to be friends. As they find out that the new students are hunters they begin to fear for their lives. Because Caleb and his friends aren't just human but they are also vampires and werewolves. Until the day they turn eighteen they will remain human, but on their eighteenth birthday they will turn into what they need to be. Will the hunters let them turn into the creatures that are waiting to come out? Will they be able to stop the hunters from hurting their friends and families? And to top it all off, will they be able to control their new side once they turn?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 20, 2009
• ISBN: 9781449013899

Kathryn Moreno

Kathryn Moreno was born and raised in San Francisco, where she was introduced to vampires, werewolves, zombies and everything supernatural at a very young age. Because of this she has been able to write about the supernatural as if she lived in it. But in Midnight's case she was inspired to write it after she and her brother were playing a video game. For the first time she was actually able to finish writing a story that she enjoyed writing. Midnight is her first novel and she is currently working on other stories that she has posted online for everyones enjoyment. www.fanfiction.net/~vampwolf Kathryn currently lives in San Pablo, California with her parents and brother.

Book preview

Contents

PREFACE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

Chapter 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

Acknowledgements

This novel is dedicated to

the person who picks this up, reads

and buys it.

To my parents for helping me get

this novel published.

Thank you!

PREFACE 

The moon was full and the stars were out. The night had never looked so beautiful before. The night was completely pitch-black. Even though you weren’t able to see your own hand in front of your face, the stars and moon still shed some light in this hellish darkness.

The emerald green grass moved like a black ocean as the wind blew. The trees were black, but they stood out against the night sky because of the moonlight shining behind them. I was lying down on the black ocean of grass and staring at the beautiful night sky. This was different to me, but not because I had never stayed out and looked up at the moon. This was different because this would be the last time I would see the moon through these eyes.

Through human eyes at least …

CHAPTER 1

It was a cold, wet, and foggy autumn morning. At least I was thankful that the house was a little warmer than it was outside. I turned over to my side to look at my clock; it was as I expected it to be, five in the morning. For some strange reason, I was waking up at this time now. My mother said it was my hormones; then again, she said everything that happens to me was my hormones. I looked up at the ceiling and wondered what my friends were doing at this precise minute. I figured they were sleeping, so there was no point in calling and waking them up. But knowing them, they would be up at this very same hour, as well.

I started to recall the look on Leion’s face when my mother told the five of us that it was just hormones, dears. There is no need to worry. All this will pass, you’ll see. That look was priceless.

I decided it was time to put in some more study time before I got ready for school. I got out of bed and grabbed my black leather book bag. It was getting old, but I didn’t want a new one. I opened it, pulled out my AP Biology book, and began to look for the chapter I was going to study. I never understood why people would freak out when we had a pop quiz. The lessons were beyond easy and everything felt like first grade science to me. I placed my book on the dark maple cherry desk that I had inherited from my great-grandfather. I made damn sure it was still in perfect condition. I turned on the desk lamp and began to study. The light illuminated the desk, but not the room.

I was able to see the dark blue paint on my walls. The border of the wall that met the ceiling had pieces of tile the same dark blue color; they were engraved with a writing I knew well: the werewolf language. The language was older then the first Bible—actually it was older then the first person to even put pen to paper for the first Bible. That amazes to me because—after all that time—every werewolf still speaks this language. A language no one knew about. A language I was afraid to speak in front of anyone but my mother and my four friends: Leion, Zahir, Armand, and my best friend Dean.

The sun began to creep through the bathroom window and spilled into my room through the open door. My clock read 6:30, which meant I had to get ready. I grabbed my book, shoved it back into my book bag, and walked into the bathroom. I turned on the cold water and got in. The water was icy cold, but it didn’t bother me. My body was used to the temperature. I dried myself and wrapped the towel around my waist.

I walked over to my dresser, which was made out of the same wood as my desk. Another gift from my great-grandfather. I grabbed a pair of faded blue jeans; I walked toward my walk-in closet and found a black shirt. I pulled on the shirt and the faded jeans. I grabbed my socks, tossed myself on the bed, and put them on. As I walked out of my room, I grabbed my book bag, wallet, and cell phone. I closed the door behind me and stepped into the hallway leading to the stairs. The hallway had been repainted with its original cream color a couple weeks earlier because my mother didn’t want to choose between cream and egg white. I glanced at the oil paintings that hung on the walls. Each painting contained a portrait of a relative of mine. There was one portrait of an uncle whom I supposedly looked like. It’s ironic because I’m peaceful at times and he wasn’t. Everyone says that we have the same turquoise eyes and the same shade of dark-blond hair—even the same temper.

The house was filled with everything from the early-fifteen hundreds. This house hasn’t been in my family as long as the furniture, but we were always more concerned about what people would think of us if we didn’t buy into the crazes at the time. I’ll give you a little history on this house. The house was built from the ground up; as in: my ancestors had the house designed and it was the second mansion ever built. The first mansion that was built was in the year 1885 for Captain George Flavel and his wife.

My ancestors—as well as Leion’s, Zahir’s, Armand’s and Dean’s—had lived under the same roof. Once each of their family’s mansions was built, they moved out. It didn’t take too long, since our families were—and still are—very wealthy.

I got to the stairs and ran my fingers over the mahogany railing. It had a little design carved into it with solid gold. I reached the bottom of the stairs and walked toward the breakfast room. I dropped my book bag next to the closet, pushed my wallet into my back pocket, and placed my cell phone on top of my book bag. I straightened myself out and walked into the breakfast room.

Morning, Caleb, my mother said as she greeted me with a smile. Isabella made some pancakes with sausages, eggs, and hash browns.

Good morrow, mother. I took a seat at the breakfast table. Thanks, Bella, I said as she set my breakfast in front of me.

Oh! my mother said. I’m sorry, Bella. I had forgotten you didn’t like to be called ‘Isabella.’ Please forgive me.

No ma’am, Isabella looked at my mother with her sad eyes. Please don’t apologize. It’s all right if you call me Isabella—I don’t mind. Anything to drink, Master Caleb?

Please, Bella, I pleaded. Don’t call me ‘Master’ or ‘Master Caleb’ or ‘Master À Deux!’ But can I please have a glass of apple juice?

Isabella nodded and left to get my drink.

I looked at my plate and was thankful to see that she had remembered not to include eggs. I really didn’t like them—how people could eat them was beyond me. I looked up at my mother and saw her drinking deeply from her glass. Mother, I said, picking up my fork, a little annoyed. Please don’t overdo it. I don’t want another incident like last time.

You know, she said as she put her glass down. I should be the one worrying about you, not the other way around. Since your father—

Please, Mother, I said and looked away. "Can we for once not speak about him?"

She smiled and let it go—though her eyes clearly said it was hardly her last word on the subject. Isabella came back with my apple juice and I finished my breakfast. I got up, took my plates over to the kitchen, and walked back toward my mother.

Leaving now? She turned her head slightly.

Yes, I said as I approached her. I love you, Mother. I leaned in to kiss her on the forehead.

I love you too, dear. She smiled and gave me a hug. Say hi to the boys for me, okay?

I will, I said, walking out of the breakfast room. Bye!

I grabbed my black leather coat, my book bag, cell phone, and the keys to my custom-made 750Li BMW. I walked toward the garage, opened it, and walked by my Kawasaki Ninja ZX-10R motorcycle. I was tempted to take it out, but I hadn’t driven the BMW in a while and with that I turned my back on it. I opened the door and threw my book bag into the passenger seat. I pulled out of the garage quickly. I revved the engine; it roared to life and a huge smile came across my face. Today was going to be a great day. I zoomed past the courtyard and came to a complete halt as the gate to the house opened automatically. I waited until there was a big enough gap for the car.

I turned left, pulling out of the driveway and onto the street. I began to speed right through stop signs, stoplights, traffic—even a couple of police officers who hadn’t seen me zoom by. The speedometer read 260. My cell phone rang.

À Deux, I answered.

Morning, buddy, greeted Leion. Hey, by any chance do you know whose history homework I can copy?

Good morrow to you, too. I thought about why he was asking me this, but I didn’t bother asking. Why don’t you ask Zahir? He’s got the class in the morning—he’ll probably be able to give you the answers.

I totally forgot about him! All right, I’ll see you in a couple of minutes.

I hung up and finished driving to school. It took only ten minutes to get from my house to the school. Well, ten minutes if you drove like me. I turned right into the parking lot of the school and took my usual parking spot. I came out of the car with my book bag over my shoulder. Zahir, Armand, and Dean were already here.

"Caleb!" called Dean, as he walked toward me with Zahir and Armand at his heels.

Hey! I looked at them as they approached me. So why did you get a new Lambo, Zahir? I asked as I looked at his car.

Dad said that the Diablo was old and ugly. It wasn’t fitting for a kid who’s going to be a senior next year. He said I should get a new car. He bought me the Estoque—what a surprise that was. It’s the same dark red color as the Diablo, but the only thing is that I think it doesn’t look like a Lambo, right?

Is it comfy?

Oh yeah, he said. It’s better than the Diablo, I’d say.

"Well, at least it’s a dark red, said Armand. It’s still sexy, but not as sexy as my car." He grinned from ear to ear.

"Yeah, well, at least I don’t show people how big my ego is, Zahir sang as his dark green eyes with a hint of gold looked around. The gold in his eyes were cause by some kind of birth defect. Besides, I don’t see how a Jeep SRT8 is sexier than a Lamborghini, do you?" he looked at Dean.

Dean just laughed. Don’t get me involved in this again, he said, waving his arms. The last time I agreed with one of you, neither of you would stop calling me to ask my advice on how to make the cars better. I won’t do it again.

Fine, said Armand in his Spanish accent. "Whose car do you think is sexier, Caleb?"

Before I even got to answer him, a white Volvo C70 came screeching into the parking lot. It parked next to me and the door flew open. I began thanking my stars that Leion had come just in the nick of time to save me from one of their petty little arguments.

What happened to your Camaro? Dean asked as Leion pulled his backpack out of the back seat.

I’m having a new engine put in. He pushed back his blood-red hair. With a couple of new tricks as well. Should be done by the Hallows Eve dance.

"And you said I had a big ego," Armand said.

Whatever, Zahir sounded defeated as he rolled his eyes. I give up!

We walked out of the parking lot toward the lunch area. Leion asked Zahir if he could copy the answers from the homework. Zahir told him he had turned it in on Friday.

What? Leion’s face dropped.

Don’t worry, Zahir reassured him. Wait for me, you guys, I’ll be right back. He ran to his car and came back with a piece of paper in his hand. I knew you weren’t going to do it. He handed Leion the paper. You can thank me after you pass the test today.

Thanks, bud! Leion put one arm around Zahir and the other around Dean. "This is going be a great day!"

Hi, said a girl walking toward us from the office. I’m new here and I can’t find my first class—even with this map. She smiled at us.

Who do you have? I smiled back at her, not wanting to be rude. We know all the teachers in this school.

I have … She looked at her class schedule and back at us. I have Mr. Ryu for history.

I have that class! Zahir said.

There was no doubt that he was going to use his good looks to get her number. He flashed his you’ll-soon-be-hooked-on-me smile and she instantly began to blush. He walked away with her and his eyes lit up.

Why is it that Zahir gets all the good-looking girls? asked Leion, who looked a little disappointed that she hadn’t even glanced his way. I mean, we’re all as handsome as he is and they all seem to like him … at first, anyway.

"If we weren’t so creepy to be around, they’d like him a lot more," said Dean, pulling away from Leion.

We laughed and walked toward our classes as the bell rang. Dean and I had French together. As soon as we walked through the door, every girl seemed to hold in her breath. They looked at us and only saw beauty—the beauty of their favorite actors. If only they knew our real colors. They wouldn’t stare at us with admiration, but with fear.

I took my seat in the middle row next to my partner, Rebecca Torrez. She was just a head smaller than I was—pretty, black hair, and brown eyes with a little hint of green in them. However, like every girl here, she was of no interest to me. I found her a good classmate and partner—but nothing more.

Good morning, Dean, said Samantha Newton. Her big blue eyes looked at Dean from head to toe. She took in every single detail about him.

Good morning, Sam, Dean said, showing off his perfectly straight, pearly white teeth. How are you doing in this cold, wet, foggy, beautiful morning?

"Beautiful? she repeated. The only thing beautiful here is you." She blushed a cherry red and looked at her hands.

Dean winked at her with a crooked smile and I took out my books and homework.

Zahir sat down at his desk, but kept smiling at the new girl. For some strange reason, he still hadn’t bothered to ask for her name or number. He just stared at her as if he was watching his prey before he pounced to feast on it.

Please sit by Mr. Forrest, the teacher said and pointed to Zahir.

Hi again, she said, a little less nervous than she had been earlier.

Hey, he said. I never caught your name. I’m Zahir Forrest—and you are? He stared at her honeycombed eyes.

I’m Emily Watson, she said and looked down at her desk, blushing even more.

It’s a pleasure to have you in my presence, Ms. Watson. He held his smile, took her hand, and lightly kissed the back of it.

She melted and didn’t pay attention for the entire class. Zahir decided it was another reason why he should spend the day with her—even though there was something about her that attracted him.

Armand and Leion were both in chemistry class, but they were taking very little interest in what the teacher was saying. Leion took the opportunity to talk to a girl on his right; she wouldn’t stop staring at him.

Hey there, beautiful, he said. Can I ask you something, doll face?

Anything, she said. For a minute, she looked as if she didn’t know how to breathe anymore.

Can I borrow your mirror? he asked, still looking into her hazel-blue eyes.

Um … yeah.

She handed it to him and he winked at her. Armand shook his head and decided that he wasn’t going to stoop that low. No girl was worth his time if he didn’t feel anything for her. The girls he knew at this school were more like practice—not anything too serious. At least, that’s what he thought.

Hey, Armand? asked Leion, looking at himself in the mirror.

Mm? he responded, not daring to look at him.

Do you think we need a suntan? He looked at his pale face. Armand didn’t answer him. Well?

No, Armand said simply. "Why would I want to look like that pathetic loser Paris Hilton?"

Good point, Leion agreed. And another thing.

Mm? he looked at him.

What do you think of this handsome, gorgeous piece of meat? He acted like a little five-year-old boy as he pointed at himself.

Armand laughed so hard that tears were on the verge of coming out. Leion looked at him and tried to think of a comeback, but nothing came to mind. He handed the mirror back and began to do his work.

Oh, come on, Armand breathed, trying to control his laughter. You set yourself up for that one! I mean, if you haven’t noticed, we’re all slabs of meat. The five of us are ‘handsome, gorgeous pieces of meat.’

I guess you guys are. I mean, I’m still better looking than all of you put together, Leion said.

Armand groaned and decided to ignore Leion for the rest of the class period.

As soon as the bell rang, the five of us met up in trigonometry. Since we had to sit in groups, the five of us sat together. As we were taking our seats, Armand began telling us what had happened in chemistry.

Well, it’s true. Leion stood up for himself. It ain’t my fault if I’m better looking than you guys.

See what I have to go through in first period? Armand asked. Will you ever change?

Nope, Leion said.

That’s the same smile he had when he pointed at himself, Armand said.

Aw, I said, pinching Leion’s cheek. He’s our little baby.

We all laughed together as Leion rubbed his cheek. When Leion removed his jacket, we realized that we were all wearing the same thing: faded jeans, black shirts, and black leather jackets.

You guys try so hard to be me that you even spy to see what I’m going to wear, he said, rolling his eyes. Can’t you guys get your own lives?

Oh, I’m so sorry, I teased. But, it’s so hard to be around someone who’s a handsome, gorgeous piece of meat like you. I cracked up.

Ha. Ha. Ha, Leion said, looking disappointed at me. Very funny, but at least I don’t …

For a minute, we thought that his brain might have fried, but then we saw his eyes following someone. We turned around in time to see who he was staring at. A group of girls had walked in; they scanned the room and glared at us with their cold, black irises. It felt as if I was staring death in the face for the first time. They walked toward the front of the class and shook hands with the teacher. He pointed them to the empty table next to us. We all shivered at the same time as they walked by. This wasn’t a good thing. We felt the tension in the room and it had a good grip around our necks. All we could do was keep quiet and stare at them. I’ll admit they were drop-dead gorgeous, but there was something about them that we didn’t like. We could tell from the minute they walked through the door that they didn’t like us either.

This was going to be the longest, coldest, and darkest hour of our lives. The day had gone from cheerful to deadly. There was no point in smiling anymore because this was the end of our fun. We could feel that their glares were going to stay with us until the next day.

The seconds felt like minutes and the minutes felt like hours until the bell finally rang. It was time to go to our next class. We got to our feet at the same time as they did, but we didn’t dare move. They glared at us until the girl who had entered the room first finally nodded to them and they left together. The minute they were out of sight, the tension around us was lifted, but we could still feel their eyes upon us. We looked at each other—had we all felt the same way? Had it felt as if they had seen right through these handsome faces and seen what demons we feared to unleash upon the people around us?

Whatever it had been, we couldn’t stay and chitchat about it. We said good-bye to each other and left for our classes.

Zahir and Dean had classes next door to each other. As they headed toward them, they froze where they stood. Two of the five girls were going to each of their classes. They stared at one another and contemplated whether they should go to class or not. But before they could turn around, they saw the principal walking down the hallway.

Armand and I walked the same way, but our classes were on different sides of the building. I walked into my class and, as I sat down, my cell phone vibrated. I took it out and read the text message from Zahir:

There’s one of them in my class. Do you have one in yours? Why do you think they’re here? We’ve never felt this way before. Do you think we should ask our parents?

When I was about to text him back, the leader walked into my class. She showed the teacher her slip and he asked her to sit next to me. I looked down at my phone as it vibrated again. This time it was Leion:

Dude, what the fuck is going on? This isn’t cool. I’ve got one of them in my class and she’s sitting in front of me! Think I should put gum in her hair? What about the others—and you?

She sat down and I could feel her cold, dark eyes staring at me. This was ridiculous and I wasn’t going to let a girl that I didn’t even know ruin my day. I decided that I was going to take action. I was going to surprise her. Something I knew she would never expect out of me. Something I didn’t expect out of myself either, really.

Hello, I’m Caleb À Deux, I said and extended my hand. And you are?

Helsin. Kristal Helsin. She looked at my hand and turned away with disgust.

Pleasure to meet you, Kristal. I kept smiling, praying that she couldn’t see through it. Where did you come from? I tried to get some information out of her, but she only fed me lies. The thing that was giving me goose bumps was that I wasn’t able to read her thoughts.

Florida. She looked at the teacher with more interest than she had for me.

Florida, eh? I was starting to act stupid now. That’s nice. I’m from Alaska. Well, actually I was born there and then moved out here.

That’s nice, she said without any interest.

I pulled out my phone and began texting underneath my desk.

Yeah, I have one of them, too. I think she might be the leader, but I’m still not sure. Leion, don’t put gum in her hair, we don’t know them well enough. For all we know, they could kill us because of you. Try getting them to talk if you’re near them. See you at lunch. We’ll compare notes later. No parents.

I pressed the send button and prayed that it would go through. I heard my phone beep. I looked down and saw that the text hadn’t gone through. This is what I get for going to a school that used to be a bomb shelter, I thought. I could send it again, but it’ll just say the same thing. Best not risk getting it taken away.

I placed it back into my pocket, looked up at her, and smiled my pearly whites—just to see if she would be attracted to me. However, she didn’t smile, blush, or anything for that matter—she just glared at me. I felt her eyes digging deep into my soul. It felt as if she was trying to dig out the demons I’d been hiding for the past seventeen years. I couldn’t look away and her gaze had me transfixed. She broke her gaze from me when the teacher called on her.

Name all the labs that are designed for this course? She repeated the question politely with a smile.

Yes, said the teacher. Do you know them?

I do, she held her smile. Labs one through twelve would be Diffusion and Osmosis, Enzyme Catalysis, Mitosis and Meiosis, Plant Pigments and Photosynthesis, Cell Respiration, Molecular Biology, Genetics of Organisms, Population Genetics, Transpiration, Circulatory Physiology, Animal Behavior, and finally, Dissolved Oxygen.

That’s correct, he said. I can see Mr. À Deux has given you a rundown on the subject. It seems like the two of you are the only ones that know that labs that are required.

No, she said. I already know the subject as well as the labs.

Oh? I guess Mr. À Deux is going to have to pay close attention to you from now on then. He turned his back toward us and began to write on the board.

She gave me a very superior look and I glared at her. Seems like the all-star in both sports and school subjects will be second best now that I’m around. I’ll try not to murder you or anything like that.

Without even thinking of what I was going to do, I hissed, "You little bitch. I looked into her cold, dead eyes. Leave my friends and me alone. Go back to wherever the fuck you came from." I opened my book and began to do the study guide for the next two chapters.

Hello, I’m Zahir Forrest, he said to his new Spanish partner. What’s your name?

Monica Victoria. She looked at him and extended her hand. Nice to meet you, Zahir Forrest.

The pleasure’s mine, he said. As he took her hand, he felt a burning sensation go up his arm and he had to let go. Sorry my hands are a little cold, he lied.

No problem, she said. No harm was done, so don’t sweat it.

I like your eyes, he said to change the subject as he grabbed his hand. What color are they?

Black—but they change color depending on my mood.

Oh. He really wasn’t interested, but hoped it was a good act. Nice. Are your friends’ eyes also the same as yours?

Yes, she looked at her Spanish workbook.

Where did you guys come from?

Florida,

Florida? he said. That’s wonderful! I’ve been there once. I got a nasty sunburn, but I had the time of my life at Universal Orlando and Islands of Adventure.

Where are you from? she asked.

I was born in New York, he said in a Brooklyn accent.

That’s nice, she said, but she wasn’t interested.

So Ashley, said Armand, putting his Spanish accent to his full use. Where are you from?

Florida, she said a little goggle-eyed. And you?

From here, he said. Astoria.

At first I didn’t want to come to Oregon because of its weather.

But now?

"I love it here and the weather is great," she said.

That’s wonderful. These girls are so easy to please. Wonder how the rest of the pack is dealing? So, care to tell me why you moved out here?

I’m Leion, he said.

She didn’t turn around—or even move for that matter. Leion cleared his throat loudly, but only the people around him turned to look. The girl just kept her back straight and moved her hand as she took notes.

Hi. I’m Leion. He tapped her shoulder until she finally turned around.

What do you want, Leion? She stared at him with her cold, dark eyes. They were as dark as the night sky and as cold as ice.

I wanted to introduce myself, he said, and maybe take you to dinner.

You’re not my type, she said and turned back around.

What do you mean? His jaw dropped. "I’m every girl’s type! He was starting to get mad. That really offended me."

I hope it did, she said, looking over her shoulder.

"Well, you’re not my type either. I don’t date ugly, conceited females."

At that, she turned around. Her eyes weren’t cold anymore; they were burning with anger. Anger that looked as if she was going to murder Leion in front of everyone and she didn’t care. What did you call me? she hissed.

You heard me, he said, trying to sound brave. Her eyes were scaring him.

She pushed her lips together and, for a minute, she looked as if she didn’t know what she was going to say to him. But, she finally opened her mouth. I’m Alisha Reviell, she said.

Nice to meet you, Leion said disinterestedly. He went back to doing his work and could feel her eyes on him. What are you looking at me for? The board’s over there. He pointed to the front.

Alisha stared at him. She was so fed up with the way he was acting that she just turned around and did her work without turning to look at him.

Dean Zounds, said the girl as she took his book from him and placed it in the middle of them.

How do you know my name? He looked at her with a confused, suspicious look on his face.

She smiled. So you’re one of the five founders here, huh?

Well, I’m the ancestor of one of the founders here, he said. How do you know me?

I know the basics about you, she said.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Your worst nightmare," she said, looking at the book.

Where’d you come from? He creased his brow, trying to think of a way she might slip up and tell him the truth.

Everywhere, she said simply.

What are you doing here? Dean demanded.

Everything.

What’s your name?

Kazondra Mourne.

How do you know about me and my friends?

She smiled mysteriously.

Lunch came and we all met up at the courtyard. All the students were rushing into the lunch area or to their lockers. Dean, Armand, and I were the first ones there. Zahir and Leion both seemed mad. Dean seemed disturbed, but he didn’t talk to any of us and he was keeping his mind busy on something else. We entered the lunch area, grabbed our trays of food, scanned the area, and sat at our usual table. They weren’t in sight, so we decided to talk about what had happened.

Well, Leion began, the girl I sat behind had an attitude problem at first. But, then she gave me her name which, by that time I was already pissed so I told her to turn around and that the board was in front of the class.

Mine, on the other hand was sweet—until I asked her why they moved out here. Zahir sipped his orange juice.

Mine, I said, "was a bitch." Everyone looked at me.

She must have been for you to call her that, Armand said.

Yeah. She’s the leader. She got on my last nerve. So all I found out was her name and that they came from Florida.

Me too! squealed Zahir. Well, she said they came from Florida also.

I got a different response, said Armand.

We looked at him and he smiled.

How? asked Leion.

Well, he said, being Hispanic and having a Spanish accent has its benefits, you know.

Son of a bitch, Zahir said.

Only on Fridays, laughed Armand and then he became serious. The girl in my class, Ashley, also mentioned that they were from Florida, but after a while, I asked her again where they were from and she said they traveled a lot. That what they did—

Was hunt, interrupted Dean, in a low voice. His eyes were full of fear, hatred, anger, and confusion.

Hunt? Leion asked. Hunt what? Boys? Bigfoot?

They hunt down old families, he said distantly . Old families that are rumored to have monsters in their bloodlines.

Monsters? I asked.

Dean nodded.

As in vampires, werewolves, and goblins? Leion asked.

Armand answered, "Just vampires. Kristal and Kazondra hunt vampires and werewolves."

We sat in silence and didn’t bother touching our food anymore. We lost our appetites as we thought about how this all had happened. Why would they come here? We hadn’t done anything that would put our names on their list. So the question was why?

But why us? asked Leion. Our ancestors don’t have blood on their hands up to this century. But I bet the reason they’re here is for us. We have more blood on our hands than any murderer does.

"They know everything we’ve done." Dean looked up at Leion.

"They’ve been everywhere, Armand said quickly. They can’t possibly know how to kill vampires that well because Ashley said they were looking things up and experimenting."

I don’t care, I said. I don’t care if they know how or they don’t—they can’t do this!

It’s wrong, said Zahir, with the same distant look Dean had. Not every vampire or werewolf is the same.

Surely they have to know that, said Leion.

They don’t care, Dean said. They don’t care how old or how young you are. They just don’t care.

We stayed in silence for a while, not knowing what to do or say until Zahir broke it.

They’re hot, he said.

Of course they are, Leion said. I wouldn’t mind being hunted by one of them.

No, you don’t get it. His voice quivered. I shook hands with Monica and her hand … The minute my skin touched hers, it felt like someone had just burned my whole arm. They’re not our regular hunters. No hunter has ever had that effect on us.

And they’ve never known it was us until the very end, said Dean. I think we should meet up after school.

Agreed, I said.

Aye, said Leion.

Yeah, said Armand.

Of course, said Zahir. What time?

Four is the time I can get out of the house, said Armand. My parents have to make sure my homework is done right. He gave a half smile.

That’s fine by me, I said.

Yeah, Dean, Zahir, and Leion agreed.

If any changes to the plan, call or text all of us, got it? I looked them in the eyes.

They all nodded.

We haven’t all turned yet, said Leion. They have to know that much.

"Weren’t you listening? Dean asked. They don’t care! Is it that difficult for you to get it through your stupid head?"

All eyes were on us. Dean was on his feet, yelling at Leion, who was taken aback from it. My eyes set on Ashley, Monica, Alisha, Kazondra, and Kristal. They were staring at us, pleased with themselves at what was happening. Kristal waved at me and I turned my back on them.

It’s not my fault! Leion said. "If I don’t pay attention to you! You’re not worth listening to!"

"Then why the fuck do you bother talking to me?" he roared back.

"Stop! I yelled at both of them. Stop this right now! They glanced at me and then at each other. We’re going home—now!" I pushed Dean forward.

The five of us left the lunch area without another word. The tension between Dean and Leion was horrible. It wasn’t only affecting them, but it affected us as well. It had all of us in a stranglehold, as when Kristal and her friends had come into our classes. This wasn’t a normal petty argument that Leion and Dean always had—this was different. Whatever Kazondra had said to Dean had upset him dearly.

Where are we going, Caleb? asked Zahir as we walked out of the building toward the parking lot.

We’re having our meeting now, I said as we crossed the parking lot. "We have to discuss everything Dean and Armand know. Dean. Leion. Both of you. Don’t do anything to attract attention to us—or yourselves! Got it? Because if you do, so help me God—that will be the last thing you ever do!"

They nodded and walked over to their vehicles. Dean’s motorcycle had been custom-made by Dodge. After he saw one on Ripley’s Believe It or Not, he got one just like it. It was a Dodge Viper motorcycle with blue lights. They warned him not to use its full potential, but he still did.

We revved our engines and I was the first to back out, then it was Armand in his Jeep, Leion in his mother’s Volvo, Zahir in his Lamborghini, and, finally, Dean. We left the school parking lot and raced down the street. We zipped past traffic as if we were invisible. We ran stoplights, stop signs, and yield signs. We finally came to a roundabout and we did it perfectly. We made a left here, a right there, and another right until we finally hit the forest, where we sped up even more.

Armand cut through some trees and out in front of me. I didn’t bother slowing down—I was going two hundred. I was sure we were all going at least the same speed. We love to speed in the cars and motorcycles. Armand had his speakers blasting away to Slipknot’s My Plague. From his driver’s side mirror, I could see him singing along and banging his head up and down. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw Leion cut off Zahir; also blasting way to Linkin Park’s What I’ve Done. Leion on the other hand was playing his air guitar. How he hadn’t gotten in a car accident was beyond all of us—including his parents and himself. I had the sunroof open and didn’t bother to turn on the stereo because I had two great bands to listen to. However, driving behind Armand was getting on my nerves, so I made a sharp left into some bushes, nearly missing a tree. I revved my engine more and was next to Armand, who stared at me with no surprise. I was going 370 now and I cut him off, but he was trying to catch up.

We finally got to our ancestors’ Away House, which was just outside of town. We all parked in front of the old picket fence and got out of our cars. Dean was the third to get to the fence. It turns out that he had known a shortcut.

We walked up to the house—filled with adrenaline. It seemed that Dean and Leion had forgotten their argument, which was great for us. We were now able to think with clear minds. There was a gunshot in the distance and we all looked to our right.

Who goes there? yelled out the family’s caretaker.

It’s just us, Raven! called Dean. Just Leion, Caleb, Armand, Zahir, and Dean.

No one followed you boys, right? he called.

No one would be able to catch up to us, called Leion with a smile on his face.

All right, he yelled. See you boys later!

Bye, Raven! We waved and continued walking to the house.

Well, said Zahir. At least it’s nice to know that Raven hasn’t changed.

Nope, I laughed. He’s still the murderous, overprotective old man we know and love.

I don’t know why I just remembered this, but do you guys remember when we came here four summers ago in the middle of the night and he almost blew my leg off? asked Armand.

Yeah! laughed Dean. Dude, I could’ve sworn he was going to kill us all that night!

There’s one thing I’ll never forget. Zahir looked at Leion with a huge smile.

Shut up! said Leion defensively. "Don’t you dare bring it up! You promised you wouldn’t."

What? I asked, looking at both of them. What happened to Leion?

Leion pissed his pants! laughed Zahir.

We all laughed loudly, clinging to each other as we walked up the steps. Leion began to chase Zahir around in a circle. We got to the door and walked in. The house was falling apart, but we were still able to walk around it perfectly. Other than the spider webs, it was good. All the furniture that was in the house was from the early eighteen hundreds. All imported from England, France, and Scotland. Made by the finest woodsmen, painters, and carvers. Money was not an object to our ancestors—and it still isn’t to this day.

We walked down some stairs to the basement. Leion reached for a certain book in the upper shelf. The bookshelf opened down the middle, pulled apart, and candles lit themselves as Leion led the way. We got to the bottom of the stairs to a round room with books on all the walls. There was just enough light to read and to see where we were and what was in front of us—but they weren’t as bright as a light bulb. We took our seats in a perfect pentagon and on the floor was a pentagram. I sat close to the stairs. On my left were Dean and Zahir and on my right was Leion and Armand. In the middle was a circle made from stone. If we placed a book in the middle, a podium would rise. Around the podium was the same writing I knew so well. Behind us was another writing I also knew—the vampire language.

So, where shall we begin? I asked, looking at everyone in the room.

Well, said Dean, looking at his hand. The reason they don’t care how old or young you are is because once they know what you are, they’ll keep an eye on you. Even if you don’t attack humans, they’ll kill you. And if they don’t succeed, then they’ll hunt you down until they finally do.

How would you know? asked Leion. Did Kazondra tell you? He raised an eyebrow and his yellow-gold eyes lit up.

No, he said, still looking at his hand and nothing else. Remember when I was seven and I went to Texas with my parents? We all nodded. And remember how after just a couple days there we came back—frightened, paler than normal, and fearing for our lives? We all nodded again. My grandfather and I were walking to a park …

I looked at Armand, Zahir, and Leion and then back to Dean who kept his eyes on his hand.

"It was the middle of the day—it had to be at least ninety degrees out. My grandfather put me on the swings and was pushing me. After a good hour of us being there and having fun, this man called out my grandfather’s name. He turned around and the man smiled. My grandfather grabbed me by my arm and began to run. I remember I kept complaining that he was going to rip my arm out of its socket and he kept telling me to shut up and run. I didn’t understand why we were running from a man—a young man—who had only called his name out. After four blocks of nonstop running, he thought we had lost him. We turned into an alleyway that would lead us up a street back toward his house.

We were halfway through the alley when all of a sudden, everything went black. I felt something push me to the ground, hard. I tried to yell out to my grandfather, but I wasn’t able to. All I was able to do was whimper. For a minute, I didn’t know how to speak, scream, or cry. The only sound I could hear around me was the sound of struggle. After a good ten minutes on the ground with my face buried in my arms, I felt someone stroke my hair. I looked up, just an inch from my arm, and saw my grandfather dead in a pool of his own blood. I got up and ran toward him. And all I could do was shake his body to see if he would get up and say he was acting. Then I felt …

He paused again, looking at the podium in the middle of the pentagram.

"I felt someone grab me by the back of my neck. I didn’t even bother to put up a fight. It was the same man from the park. He said that he was a descendant of Van Helsing. He looked me straight in the eyes and laughed. He grabbed a silver knife from his back and stared at it.

He turned it to the side, so he would be able to cut my throat open. Luckily enough, I had my right arm around my neck, so he sliced my arm, but as the silver made contact with my flesh, it burned.

He rolled up his sleeve and showed us his thin scar that ran from his wrist to his elbow.

"Then something came over me as he was bringing the knife in for a second try. I somehow managed to get the knife out of his hand and I sliced his stomach open. We fell to the ground and the last thing I remember was walking out of the alley, blood pouring out of my arm, my clothes covered with the blood of my grandfather, the hunter, and me. People were staring at me, but I didn’t care. Finally, a block away from my grandfather’s’ house, I passed out.

The next thing I remember was being hooked up to an I.V. and monitors. As soon as I opened my eyes, the cops asked me questions. I told them everything, but they didn’t believe me. They said it was my way of blocking everything out. My parents, on the other hand, knew that we had to leave—and quick. That’s why my parents asked your father if we could leave the U.S. and go somewhere else—anywhere—as long as it wasn’t here. Without speaking to any of you anymore. So we could be on our own.

I remember that, said Leion, looking at Dean with the saddest eyes ever. Your arm wouldn’t stop bleeding. I remember that the teacher kept telling you that your bandages were soaked with blood every two hours. I remember the look on your face when the other kids asked you what had happened. You didn’t go to school for a week or so after that.

He took in a deep breath, trying to repress the tears in his eyes. Kazondra is the daughter of the man I killed ten years ago. He looked at Leion. That’s why she knew so much about me and my family. She said that she’s been waiting to meet me—

And see you beg for your life, I finished.

Dean nodded.

Kristal is Kazondra’s cousin. Dean looked at a candle in front of him. Only that Kristal is a direct descent from Van Helsing. So she’s the leader because of that fact. Kazondra’s father taught her everything she knows.

So we’re dealing with two experienced hunters, I said, making eye contact with everyone. And the other three are … pupils?

They’re not pupils, answered Armand. They’ve had their share of bad luck when they were younger. Ashley said that once she, Alisha, and Monica turned fifteen, a man turned up at their doorsteps and told them they were vampire slayers. Of course, they didn’t believe it at first—not until he put them up against their first vampire.

And we can imagine what happened after that, said Zahir.

Yeah, agreed Armand. "It was Buffy the Vampire Slayer all over."

But they’re not our regular hunters though, said Leion, looking at us. I mean, if they send a burning sensation through our bodies, that’s not normal. It’s not even human.

But why didn’t the mortals feel it? asked Zahir. I mean, she shook hands with my Spanish teacher.

And he didn’t react to it? asked Dean as Zahir shook his head. Why can we feel it and not the mortals?

I dunno, I said, getting up and walking toward a bookshelf. But if Kristal and Kazondra are related to Van Helsing, they shouldn’t be able to burn us like Monica did to Zahir. Unless … I picked up a couple books. We first find out what kind of spells, charms, or incantations can make someone have that kind of power.

Leion got up and took a book from my pile. With a spell or charm, they would have to keep repeating the enchantment.

Not really, said Zahir, also getting up and taking a book from me. If they have a tattoo symbol on their body or a necklace or something they can wear, they won’t need to repeat it.

True, said Armand, sitting back down with a book. "But the thing is—what are they? What if they use a hex bag to kill us?

We already know how to kill witches and how to get rid of hex bags, don’t we? said Dean, taking a book I handed him. But I doubt that’s anything to worry about.

Shall we? I said, taking my seat.

Dean, Zahir, Leion, and Armand nodded and opened their books.

We each had a pile of books by our feet, but none of us were successful at finding anything. We spent four hours—and still nothing. We were all sitting there with our noses in books when a cell phone broke the silence.

Santiago, answered Armand, looking at the pages very slowly.

We continued searching when we heard a loud smack that echoed through the room. We looked up and saw him staring at his empty hands. His eyes were full of horror, fear, and loneliness. Something I’ve never seen in his eyes before.

CHAPTER 2

It seemed that the call was over, but his hand couldn’t let go of the phone. He stared at the floor as if some unseen force had destroyed his whole world. He didn’t move, he didn’t blink, and he wasn’t even breathing when I walked up to him.

Armand? I bent close to him, putting my left hand on his shoulder. What happened? Who was it?

He stared blankly up at me and said with an unfamiliar voice, Mom.

What did she say? Leion came over to stand by him.

Dead, he breathed.

Your mom’s dead? shrieked Zahir.

No. He looked back at the floor. "Dad."

How? I asked, looking at everyone.

We know how, said Dean. "They killed him."

Armand nodded.

Let’s get back to your house, I said, picking him up. I’ll take you home and Raven can keep your car here in the garage.

Armand nodded.

We’re not gonna risk losing you, too, said Zahir, looking at both of us. We have to go in one car. If we go in our own cars, they’ll attack us one by one. We can’t risk that.

Zahir’s right, said Dean, standing next to Zahir. They’ll kill us if we split up.

I looked at Leion and Armand. We were torn in two different groups. After a while, Leion moved over to Zahir. Armand and I knew we had no choice. I helped Armand up from his seat and up the winding stairs. The lights to the bookshelf were turning on as we entered the hallway. Leion was in front of us to push the bookshelf open.

Armand, Zahir, Dean, and I finally got out of the hallway and into the basement. We watched as it closed itself and locked. We looked at each other and nodded. Leion was still leading the way up the stairs out of the basement.

We were all on our toes—if anything or anyone were to attack us, we’d fight till the death. We felt the tension on our shoulders and necks. It was an uglier feeling than the one we had felt at school. But then again, it was probably brought on because of what had happened to Armand’s father.

We left the house and Raven shot another bullet into the air. We told him we were leaving and we were going to come back to pick up the cars and motorcycle. We were going to leave in Armand’s Jeep. It had enough room for us to stretch out and we needed the four-by-four here. The roads we took were already worn down by our cars, making it easy for everyone’s car to get here. But we were going to take a certain road that wasn’t worn down. We had found it on foot—it led to the town quickly and we had vowed to use it only in emergencies.

I took the car keys out of Armand’s jacket pocket. Leion and Zahir placed him in the middle seat in the back. The seatbelts were harnesses; they were more comfortable because they wouldn’t choke us when we bounced around.

I backed out real fast, threw the car in drive, and lifted up the little chrome handle for the four-by-four. I revved the engine and we took off. We sped down the unseen road at 350 and didn’t slow down. We got off that road in less than five minutes and turned left toward town. Once we passed the Welcome to Astoria sign, we sped up.

We were going 460—dodging cops, stop signs, and stoplights. We were close to Armand’s house when a cell phone rang. Zahir picked it up.

When? His voice was low as he looked up at me into the rearview mirror. Bye.

What happened?

My father.

Shit! said Leion, We can’t do this anymore. He hit the dashboard. We can’t just sit here and do nothing. We have to stop them!

Zahir, Leion—call your parents! I commanded. I knew Leion was in no state of mind to call and to tell them calmly to leave. Tell them to leave and to get out of town—as far away as possible.

They nodded and began calling. We got to Armand’s house when they hung up. We got out of the car and ran toward the house.

Mom! called Armand as he pushed the front door open.

The front of the house looked normal. We started to walk into the living room and saw the picture frames, lamps, tables, and sofa cushions on the ground. The tables, where the lamps had once stood on, were flipped over. There was blood on the ground. Blood led through the side of the living room, into the dining room, to the kitchen, and into a cupboard. Armand opened the cupboard, pushed a wall that opened, and we followed him. The blood led to the second floor.

We came out of the closet and found that the door had been broken from the inside. We followed the traces of blood on the carpet to the master suite. The door had to have been closed because the handle and wall of the door were covered in bloody handprints. Armand slowly opened the door. He had barely gone inside the room when he supported himself against the door.

We looked at each other and followed him. The body of his father was hanging in the middle of the room above the bed. Ropes were suspending him. He was hung up as if he had been crucified. Armand was already on the bed untying his father. The bed was covered in Mr. Santiago’s blood. As we got closer, we saw something engraved upon his father’s’ chest. We couldn’t see it because of the blood. I walked over to the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and placed it under the running water. I came back into the room and handed it to Armand. He began wiping the blood off his father’s chest.

We all looked at Armand as tears rolled down his cheeks and onto his father’s lifeless body. We stood in silence until he was off the bed. We moved closer to Armand and his father to read the engravings.

You’ll be next

My dear

Friends

Armand grabbed his father’s’ body and began to cry harder and loudly. We all bowed our heads for a moment of silence. We left the room to give Armand some time to himself. We all knew how close he and his father were and this was a blow below the belt. His father had taught him everything about friends, trust, love, and loyalty. He had also taught him—and us—how to overcome the hunger for human blood, when he—or we—craved it. He taught him—and us—how to hunt animals for their blood.

After standing outside the room, panic hit Zahir. He didn’t know what to expect when we arrived at his house and hoped that whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be as awful as this.

Zahir ran up the steps to his house, opened the door, and out of view.

Mom! yelled Zahir, running into the living room, the dining room, the kitchen, and up the staircase. He froze. Mom? He walked up to her slowly. Are you okay?

His mother was on the floor. She was badly injured, but still alive. He walked into his parents’ room and nothing. He saw a shadow moving in the bathroom. He crept carefully toward it and, when a hand grabbed his shoulder, he turned around. Dean and Leion were right behind him and nodded.

Caleb and Armand stayed with your mother, mouthed Leion.

They’re calling for an ambulance, mouthed Dean.

Zahir nodded and walked toward the bathroom again.

The shadow stopped moving. Zahir, Dean, and Leion froze, thinking that the person might have heard them. They continued walking—slowly, carefully, and quietly. Zahir was the first to go in. There was nothing there. Dean and Leion came in and were the first to see it—to see him. Leion and Dean ran across the bathroom, jumped on the tub, and opened the window. As they carefully got onto the roof, they saw Zahir fall to the ground, crying. Dean and Leion had their shoulders against Mr. Forrest’s body and they both brought him in slowly. They placed him in front of Zahir, who threw himself onto his father’s’ body. Dean and Leion began