Cinder [A Vampire Novel]

I - Farron

I had been a vampire for roughly two months when I first met Farron. It had been two months of agony. Of unquenchable thirst. Of staring alone at a cold and distant moon hanging above mountain-tops in a sky of remote twinkling lights that offered no more comfort or familiarity than the cave that had become my home.

Discovering the sun sent me into torturous, burning spasms had been bad enough. Never sleeping and always thirsting had been even worse. But all of this was unquestionably bearable in comparison to the soul-crushing torment of remembering my first kill.

There was a time when I was an A-B student in honors and AP classes, performing with the drama club, hanging out with friends, and playing in the band. I was normal. Mom and Dad fought, my little sister was an annoying brat or the sweetest angel on earth, and my loveless, overweight cat hated everything about me while I loved every scrap of fur from its coat. My friends were flawed and kind of crappy sometimes, but they were friends. I was two months from graduating when it all changed. Graduation would've been sometime in the last week, if I counted correctly, but things got blurred when your only measurement of time was the rise and fall of the moon, how often you could journey to the cave entrance, and how far along your thirst was on its journey to hellishness.

Everything changed for me in the blink of an eye. One moment, I'm walking home from my friend Casey's house, and then suddenly there's a hand clamped over my mouth and I'm being dragged at rapid speed into a nearby swamp where my life is bled from me. Then it's pain, agonizing pain, spreading like wildfire through my body. And then the thirst; before I know it, someone's dead, and I run faster than I ever have until I'm somewhere north of Florida, in a mountain cave distant and remote from any humans. I don't know how long I ran or how far; all I know is I haven't seen anyone since I entered the cave.

Not till the night I met Farron.

I sat at the entrance to the cave, watching the black widow that moved in with me a few nights ago weave a beautiful web of silver silk in the moonlight. One benefit to my new state was the enhanced vision; instead of squinting to watch her create her beautiful spirals from a few inches away, I could see her easily from the cave floor and on the opposite side from her, a good twelve feet away. She wasn't bothered by me, and nor was I by her; the whole being undead thing got inconvenient when flies came around, and she ate them. Was that any more just than me using my new predator status to eat people? Maybe not, but there was a difference to me between flies and humans. For one thing, the average lifespan of a fly was considerably shorter than humans'.

It was as I sat watching my new spider friend build a new home that I heard footsteps on the mountain, something I had never heard before. Pawsteps, yes; footsteps, no. My first instinct was to launch myself as far back into the cave as I could, but something stopped me. I think it was the odd scent on the breeze; it was almost human, but far from tantalizing. It didn't stink, but it was... Strong.

Then he was there.

Leaping from the base of the cliff all the way into the entrance, he appeared like some kind of kryptonic ghost, as bulky and tall and muscular as any superhero (and twice as smelly, now that he was up close). He was wearing only a dark green crew-neck sweater with the sleeves rolled up and blue jeans; his bare feet were surprisingly slender, though that may just be because they were incredibly long. His body was a long chunk of muscle and bone, held with straight back and square shoulders. His dark, oaken brown hair looked like it was usually cut into a buzz-cut but hadn't been cut in a while, encroaching past his hairline onto the edges of his rectangular face. His cheekbones were bold but his eyes weren't deep-set as a result; they were large and honey-flecked over an olive green background and framed by long, dark lashes. His brows were thick and arched, though that arch may have been exaggerated by the furious and suspicious expression he wore. His mouth was wide with thin lips set into a straight line above a square chin, and his sallow cheeks only added to the boldness of his cheekbones and the lack of smile in his lips. He was not happy to see me, and I had no idea why.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

My complete observation of his every detail took barely the length of a heartbeat, and I could measure this by the distant thumping of his heart in his chest, as clear as a leaking faucet's tap-tapping in a quiet house. His voice was deep and surprisingly gruff, more adult than I'd expected since he didn't look much older than me. He couldn't be more than twenty.

"That's not very friendly," I answered, my head tilting slightly. This was my first time interacting with someone in two months; tact and casualness were not quite my forte when I was human, and it seemed that hadn't changed. It helped that the off-putting undertone to his scent kept me from wanting to eat him, so I was able to react almost normally.

"You're close to my home. Your kind aren't welcome here."

"My kind? And what are you?"

He scoffed. "As if you haven't come across a wolf before."

A wolf. Cool. Werewolves, too? I guess the rivalry thing isn't entirely myth. "Oh. No, actually, I haven't."

"Stop playing coy and innocent. What are you doing here?"

I glanced back at the depths of my cave, wondering if he was as fast as me, or if he was slow in human shape. Can he change at will, or does it have to be a full moon? I met his olive glare again. "Hiding."

"Obviously. Why?"

"So I don't hurt anyone."

This gave him pause. He narrowed his eyes at me. "You expect me to believe a vampire is hiding in a cave so they don't hurt anyone? If I couldn't smell this well, I'd be willing to believe there was a pile of bodies back there somewhere. As it is, I can't catch any scents... And you look weak."

"That's probably because I am. I haven't drank in two months; I figured if I waited here, I'd eventually thirst to death, which would be nice."

He let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Yeah, ya think? One less vampire out killing people."

"Are werewolves really so innocent? I've heard rumors about your kind, too."

I couldn't help but start to get defensive, but I held it down. His glare intensified. "My kind aren't specifically engineered to kill. We may be predators, but we hunt you, not what you hunt."

"Oh, great, the vampire-hunter is here! What a shame. I just told you I haven't killed anyone in two months and I've been hiding out here waiting to die. What's the point in trying to kill me?"

He stared another moment, and then leapt off the cliff and disappeared from view. I glanced over in time to see the bushes at the base of the trees tremble, but he was already a distant blur.

So he is as fast as me.

~~~
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