Dating for Demons (Book 3: Half-blood vampire series)

Chapter One

Colby Blanchard
Undead Living 102
Being Undead Short Essay

Being Undead: What It Means to Me

In the fall of my senior year of high school, I walked home after a football game, alone. I was attacked by a rogue vampire who changed me into a vampire. I quickly discovered (after a visit from some Vampire Investigators) that I was Undead without a license—and not even a full-blood vampire, only a half-blood. Normally, I would have been destroyed, but I provided a pretty compelling argument. In the end, I managed to get a license, emancipate other half-bloods and was given a job as their Protector. But full-bloods still don’t like us. At all.

Why? Well, it appears I am prophesied in some ancient texts to bring about the end of the world.

This time the mixed blood will rise,
The One who is Undead but Alive,
Who is pure but not whole,
And they will bring forth the beginning of the end.

So, what’s being Undead mean to me? It means I have no time. Since full-bloods don’t like me, they all want to kill me so I’m constantly dodging stakes and swords, and I never have time to finish my assignments. Which is why this essay is late.

Chapter One

COLBY

I found it hard to believe that such a big guy was even attempting to look inconspicuous while obviously following me, but there he was, again. This time he was feigning interest in some shades while I cruised the Sunglass Hut. He was handsome in a bad boy, no, scratch that, in a Piper sort of way. I giggled at the thought. My best friend, Piper, would love the seriously dark vibe this guy was emitting. It would appeal to her whole, I’m-not-Goth-I’m- alternative persona.

I took a deep breath once more and relaxed. He wasn’t a vampire at least. Of that I was sure. And he smelled like oatmeal raisin cookies with a hint of cinnamon. It was my experience (admittedly limited) that men who smelled like cookies were probably not evil. Yeah, it was pigeonholing an entire olfactory type but hey, stereotypes exist for a reason, you know.

He might not have been a vampire, but that didn’t mean I shouldn’t be cautious. It seemed like every other night I was being attacked by some ancient vampire who followed the Prophesy. Occasionally they even brought a human pet or two with them. They believed Colby Blanchard (that would be me) was the one who would bring about the end of their existence as we knew it. Tell a friend. Film at eleven. Sheesh, start a small revolution by emancipating half-blood vampires, and suddenly everyone thinks you’re up to no good. It wasn’t my fault that half-bloods were considered an abomination by all. But not anymore. I was a half-blood and proud of it. No one who dressed as well as I did was an abomination. Period.

No, this guy wasn’t a vampire and I thought it unlikely he was a pet. Pets tended to be very robotic and couldn’t think for themselves. They were under a spell and looked spaced- out all the time. Nope, this guy could never be anyone’s pet.

Maybe he was just shy and wanted to meet me? Probably. I mean, I looked pretty hot today with my spray-on tan and Psi Phi tank top. Sure, it was the middle of April and still a bit chilly for the Northwest, but when you’re dead, er, Undead, a couple degrees didn’t matter much. Call it a perk, if you will.

I made my way upstairs to the food court. I wanted Piper to meet me before the sun went down, but no, she was doing some homework and couldn’t break away until the evening. As a half-blood, I was able to walk around during the day. Sure, I had to wear lotion with an SPF of about a gazillion but I didn’t mind.