My Super Depressing Story About How I Became The First One

Chapter Eighteen

The silence in the car was thick around us. I wasn't angry at him. I didn't even blame him at all. I was just upset in general. Frost hadn't spoken a word to me since we left the bench and it felt as though he was tip toeing around me.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I choked. I had nothing to say so I went back to staring out the window, watching the dark tunnels in between the lit streets. Alley ways were always dangerous places to be, even during the day time. Most people walked past, ignoring them, pretending like they didn't exist, like whatever danger laid in the darkness wouldn't hurt them. Little did they know, that alone, they were still fair game. The alley way monsters wouldn't hesitate. Ignorance gets anybody killed.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as the air around me changed, vibrating with cold power. I shivered and looked at Frost. His knuckles were molted, gripping hard at the steering wheel.

"What is that?" I asked, looking outside. Nothing moved in the darkness, but the air around us still held the cold.

It wasn't the kind of chill you got on a cold winters morning. It seeped into your bones, filling you with fear and death.

"SHIT!" shouted Frost as he slammed on the brakes. We skidded, fishtailing before coming to a screeching halt.

A figure stood before us in the smoky light of the car. The hood from his black leather coat hung low hiding his face. He suddenly appeared at Frost's door and his pale hand slowly wrapped against the window.

Frost calmly wound it down, taking his time. The figure leaned in, lowing his hood, revealing a face so stunning, it took the breath out of me. What is up with all these beautiful men?

His dark hair was combed to the side, a style most popular for men in the 1940's. The street light caught his hair, showing me that it wasn't black, but that it was the darkest red that I had ever seen. So dark it looked black.

I wonder how amazing it would look in the sunlight. His skin was so pale it looked like porcelain. Vintage porcelain, like sun bleached bone. His eyes, the brightest of blue, but they held no pupils, making them look dead. Though dead they were not. They were alive, glittering like sapphires. To me, they seemed to glow. His perfectly shaped eye brows, as dark as his hair, held no expression. They sat above his dead eyes, adding to his beauty. His lips were the lightest of pink, only a few shades darker than his skin. They pouted slightly, giving him the look of arrogance.

His face a delicate heart shape, his jaw strong, but not too strong. He was perfection, but something seemed terribly wrong about him. His presence filled my stomach with dread. Goosebumps covered my whole body, making my skin tight and itchy. He literally gave me the hebee gebees. He was a terrifying beauty.

He looked at me with his dead blue eyes. It felt as though he was peering into my soul, touching the most intimate parts of me, leaving me feel naked and raw. He turned his eyes to look at Frost.

Frost sat there with his face utterly blank, showing nothing. His eyes pale grey and empty. He was giving the beautiful man his own version of dead eyes. The look both scared and intrigued me.

"Wolf," the man hissed, his voice bitter and smooth. The word rolled off his tongue, hurting and soothing me at the same time. It was the voice of pure evil.

"Malicai," said Frost, unaffected by the man at all.

"Who is your friend," he said, his voice seductive and fattening.

Frost turned his whole head to look at him square on, their faces close enough to kiss. But there was nothing sexual about Frost. He was primal and protective. His shoulders squared and his back straight. "She is none of you concern Malicai," he said. His voice vibrated through the air. His energy tingled along my skin like warm feathers.

"No need to challenge me wolf, I am just curious," he hissed the last word, making it sound sinister. He turned to me as I sat there perfectly still, paralyzed from fear. "Who are you my dear?" he asked, giving me a closed lip smile. The look darkened his face. Who knew a smile could even do that.

"Savannah," I said, my voice horse.

"Savannah, what a beautiful name," the compliment felt wicked and inviting, pulling at me. But I was still able to resist him. I could feel his power brushing against the intimate parts of my mind. His eyes glowed ever so slightly brighter.

I held my breath, not taking my eyes of him. Then a crooked smile broke across his face and a tiny fang glinted in the street light. "Interesting," he hissed.

He turned back to Frost. "What is your Lycaon hiding from me wolf."

"He has a name," I whispered, cursing myself for the sudden courage.

"He does indeed," he said bowing. "What is your Lycaon hiding from me Frost," he said his name so hot it scolded my skin, making me flinch.

"Once again, it is none of your concern, Malicai," said Frost, with his voice perfectly normal.

"Tut tut tut, bad little wolf. You shouldn't lie, your nose will grow. I believe it is my concern. Now are you going to tell me what she is, or do I have find out myself?" he said, still with that crooked smile.

A deep growl sounded from Frost's lips. The sound filled the air, like crashing waves. "I will not tell you anything, fang face," he spat the last words at him.

"Fang face, how original," laughed Malicai. His laugh was deep and malicious, pulling at things low in me. He sighed and the laughter ceased, leaving the night so silent that I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. "Fine, I will have to find out myself. That means extra work, more hassle and a very unhappy vampire."

"Fine by me," said Frost, his eyes now the colour of amber. His wolf eyes.

"I do not fear you. You are just a pup, boy. I am Vampire King," snarled Malicai, flashing his elongated fangs. "I will destroy you. I only don't because I cannot be bothered. Tell your Lycaon, I would very much like to discuss things with him. Sooner rather than later. He may be law, but he is not above me. He is my equal. Denying me an audience would be...very rude."

He pulled back, looking at me with those cold dead blue eyes. "I hope to see you again Varnie," he said my nick name like it was something naughty and forbidden. I opened my mouth to say something, but with a whoosh, he was gone. How did he know my nick name?

Frost let out a breath and rubbed his forehead. "Fuck I hate that guy. Cain is not going to be happy." He looked at me, the amber seeped out of eyes slowly, turning them back to his pale grey. "Are you ok?"

I swallowed hard and nodded. "Yea." I slowly unclenched my hands. I hadn't even noticed that I had had them clenched so tight. "Who was he and how did he know my nick name?"

"He knows a lot of things. He is Malicai, the King of all Vampires. He knows what you are, I bet my life on it." He cursed under his breath. "I hope I'm wrong Varnie, I really do."

I looked at him. "Is it that bad?" I asked. I was terrified and wasn't afraid to admit it. Malicai scared the living shit out of me.

Frost just nodded, his eyes solemn. Fuck. Fuck indeed.