An Undead Rebellion (Sequel)

Missing

I heard the car pull up in the driveway before I heard the front door open, followed by the voices of Mikey, Ivy, and Jake.

Corey stood at the counter, reading the article about the slave house fire, a cigarette clasped between his long fingers.

His auburn hair was a mess in the back, but that wasn’t very unusual for him.  The black button down he had on was messily half tucked into his black slacks, the top buttons of the shirt forgotten and left undone.

I was leaning up against the counter on the opposite side of him as they came in, walking into the kitchen in all their undead glory. Corey’s family was a prime example of how I had always imagined vampires to be; tall and willowy with unbreakable porcelain skin, and the grace of a panther.

I wondered if I looked like that, too. I hoped so.

Corey’s mom was the first one to enter, and she greeted me with a warm smile, her lean frame clad in a thin, long black dress that made it seem like she was floating. She was beautiful.

Behind her came in Ivy, who was just an inch shorter than her mother, with the same dark brown hair and dark almond-shaped eyes.

“Hey, miss Queen of the damned.” Mikey grinned at me.

I breathed a laugh. “Hey, Mikey.”

Jake and I exchanged polite smiles. He was still shy around me, well, Corey too for that matter.

 

“Good to see you again, Arabelle.” Julia said to me.

“You too,” I returned her warm smile.

Corey glanced up from his reading material, his gaze flicking straight over to Ivy.

“Do you have it?” He asked, his tone expectant.

Corey’s father touched my shoulder in passing, setting down a bag on the countertop.

Ivy stepped up to the island, opening her bag and pulling out a thick hardback book that was falling apart at the spine, but was doctored with stitches.

She set it down gently on the table and all three of our gazes fell onto it.

The color of the cover was a rusty red, and the pages looked yellowed from age. The title was in a different language I presumed, as I couldn’t make it out; but it looked something like Greek to me.

The rest of them had wandered off into other parts of the house, talking about dinner.

I reached out to touch it before Corey could, beating him to it by no more than a half a second. I picked up the book, holding it tentatively in my hands.  Corey and Ivy both watched me.

My fingertips tingled at the touch of the book underneath them, and I felt something like an electric current shoot through my hand, coursing through my veins.