Chapter One

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My gaze was steady on the mirror in front of me. I still looked the same as I always had. Straight blond hairy, gray eyes, pale skin. Normal. I hated it. I hated every aspect of it. Normal. Being surrounded by everything not normal bothered me. Why couldn't I just grow some wings or scales or have the sudden craving for blood? But I didn't have wings or scales or the taste for blood. Like I said, I'm normal. And I hated it. But I did what I always did. I pulled on my sweat shirt, slipped on my shoes, and walked out into our small kitchen where Mom and Dad were waiting for me. Dad's head was bent ever while he concentrated on whatever he was scribbling down in his notebook. Mom stood leaning against the counter sipping her juice, or what I imagined as juice. Like I said, I don't have a taste for blood or even the desire to try it because frankly the thought of drinking blood made me want to puke. That simple fact made having a vampire for a mom difficult.

"Good mornin'," Mom nodded to me. "How'd you sleep?"

I considered mentioning my reoccurring weird (okay, so maybe they're more frightening than weird) dreams, but decided not to get into it again with Mom. She kept insisting that I was just a late bloomer, that it would happen, but I'm wasn't stupid. I knew I was just human. I knew false hope would only disappoint me. So, I kept my dream to myself. "I slept fine, Mom."

"No dreams?"

I tried to smile. "No dreams."

Mom frowned, disappointed. "Oh." I suddenly felt guilty for lying. Was it so wrong for her to hope? But was it so wrong for me to want her just to accept what I'm not?

"Are y'all ready to go?"

Dad finally looked up at me. "Oh. Good morning, Coralynn." I was suddenly annoyed at his lack of noticing me until now. Instantly, I mentally kicked myself for being so self-centered.

"Hi, Dad. Are you ready to go to breakfast?"

He looked longingly down at his notebook where he was writing the words to some ancient chant that didn't look relatively close to any language I knew then back to me. "Uh, yeah. Jean, are you ready?"

Mom put her glass in the sink. "Yes. I'm sure everyone is waiting."

I followed my parents out of our small wooden cabin and out onto our porch. The cool winter air hit me instantly. I loved the fresh outdoor scents. Pine, grass, a hint of last night's rain. The wind blew ruffling my long hair. It felt nice. I then glanced to the trees where I knew I was being watched. I told my parents to go on without me, that I'd catch up with them in a little bit. Once they disappeared down the path through the woods, I turned back to my watcher.

I put my hands on my hips. "Noah, I know you're in there."

The brush rustled. I let out an impatient sigh and tapped my foot on the porch. Mentally, I counted. Three, two, on-

The boy jumped from the covering of the woods, over the railing, and up onto the porch next to me. Noah's shaggy dark hair fell in front of his eyes. I bit back a shot of laughter as he pushed it away obviously annoyed with it for getting in his way.

"You know you can always cut it, right?"

He gave me his "Are you serious" look. He knew as well as I did that he didn't like getting his hair cut. That explained why it nearly reached his shoulders. He liked it looking wild, just like him. Ignoring my question, he asked, "You ready to go get breakfast?"

"You mean you haven't eaten yet?"

Noah smiled. "I never said that."

I knew what he meant, and was glad he decided not to gross me out. He, like my mother, liked the taste of blood because he, unlike my mother, was a dragon. He hunted in the early morning when I wasn't around. I appreciated that more than he could ever realize. Whether I admitted it or not, it always kind of annoyed me when someone would use their gift around me when they very well knew I didn't have one. It felt like they were rubbing it in my face that I was just normal. It wasn't fair! But, still, I was happy that I had such a good best friend that would try the best to his ability to not use his gift around me. Mentally, I thanked Noah for that.

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