Theda Black - The Vampire's Boy, ☂ UPLOADED (Unsorted) ☂, ★ ♂♂ Romance, [G]ay 1
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~**~
THE VAMPIRE'S BOY
by Theda Black
Published by TKB Books at Smashwords
Text copyright July 2011 by Theda Black
Illustration copyright July 2011 by Sonja Triebel
Also by Theda Black at Smashwords:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of
either the author's imagination or are used fictiticiously and are not to be construed as
real. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof
in any form whatsoever except as provided by US copyright law.
~**~
The Vampire
's Boy
Theda Black
TKB BOOKS
~**~
Table of Contents
Author
's Notes
~**~
T
HE
FIRST TIME the vampire came for him, he was seventeen and afraid of nothing.
It was a Thursday night, and he'd been at Jordan's house smoking weed. He'd told
his mom they were studying, and honestly, that's what he'd intended. It's just that
Jordan
always
had weed.
When he got to the point he felt like he was built of particles all floating separate
and still but interconnected, he left. Jordan protested, saying it was just getting good
(what
it
was, Jared didn't know), but he knew if he stayed they'd end up cutting class
tomorrow. And the last time he'd played hooky, the school had called his house and left
a message, dry and mechanical: "For the parents or guardians of Jared Mikels, Jared
was absent from school today. You have three days to submit—"
Aaannd the shit had hit the fan.
It was the end of April, with only a few more weeks of school left. He was
determined to stay out of trouble before summer break. He hoped. First there was the
little matter of getting into the house without his parents knowing he was stoned.
Jordan lived down the block from him, so it only took a couple of minutes for Jared
to walk home. The moon was nearly full, white light bouncing off the sidewalk. A mild
wind rustled through leaves just beginning to sprout on the trees.
It was a nice looking neighborhood, mostly upper scale Cape Cods, an occasional
older bungalow thrown in. His house was a brick two-story, the pine in the front yard
throwing a long shadow over the porch. He climbed the steps and opened the front door
quietly, trying to act like he wasn't trying to be quiet. He kept his head up, eyes wide,
faking sobriety as best as he could in case his parents saw him.
It was after eleven and the house was dark, only the light from the TV screen in the
living room flickering over the furniture. His dad sat on the couch, slumped comfortably
against the overstuffed end cushion. The silver in his hair shone blue in the light, and his
glasses sat crookedly over his nose.
Jared watched him a minute. His dad didn't move. He was asleep.
"
Yes,
" he whispered, pumping his fist, and started up the stairs outside the living
room. He was almost home free, but the last stair didn't cooperate—it tripped him. He
thumped to his knees in the hall, surprised. "Oops," he said, snickering. But quietly. If
his mom heard down the hall from her bedroom, she didn't say anything. Most likely she
was asleep, too.
In the bathroom he brushed his teeth, looking at himself in the mirror. His lids
were definitely at half-mast over his pale blue eyes, sleepy and well, stoned-looking. He
opened them wide as he could, straining to see the whites all around, but it wasn't
happening, and he looked stupid enough doing it that he grinned through the toothpaste
at his image.
It'd been drizzling as he walked home, and his dark hair was wet. It was long
enough that his dad bitched every time they were in the same room long enough to
actually talk.
He leaned over, spat in the sink and rinsed. Hell with that. It wasn't really all
that
long. His dad was a tightass. He'd really freak if he knew about the tattoo Jared had
gotten. He pulled his sleeve up to look at it.
Peace, baby.
He grinned in the mirror again.
Dad didn't like the long hair or the low-slung jeans (in fact Jared got yelled at just
this week for showing his ass off, literally, when he'd looked under the couch for
Malvoline the cat's favorite stuffed mouse toy). Or the earring, the music, his friends in
general, and last but not least, the black, white and red T-shirt he wore with a hooker
and a zombie making out.
He stared in the glass, absently rubbing the tat with long fingers, the grin
disappearing off his face. He was pretty sure Dad didn't like much of anything about
him.
He sighed and shuffled off to his bedroom. The room was made of shadows, posters
hanging on the walls like featureless black rectangles. He expertly avoided the usual
heaps of clothes wadded up on the floor and flopped into bed still clothed. He fell asleep
almost instantly. He never heard the window slide open.
Moments later he woke to a vampire in his bed, though all he knew at first was the
press of a body against his and a hand lying flat against his heart.
Jared blinked up into the dark and tried to sit up, but the hand was unyielding. He
turned his head to see who held him. It was a boy with dark hair and eyes like gray
smoke, pupils red with hunger and mouth pale with need.
"I'm sorry," the vampire whispered. "I'm so hungry." He gripped Jared's head
between both hands and thrust his face into Jared's neck, fangs sliding like twin blades
of ice into his throat. Jared cried out. The vampire clamped a hand over his mouth. His
head shook back and forth, burrowing into flesh, a beast feeding off a carcass. Jared's
body writhed against the bed, and only the hand against his chest kept him from falling
to the floor.
The world around him narrowed and floated away in foggy wisps. The vampire
whispered into his neck, voice vibrating low into Jared's skin.
I didn't mean to come
after you. I didn't want to hurt you
.
Tears like diamonds, cold and hard, fell from the
vampire's eyes, rolling down Jared's face and neck to melt into the bed clothes.
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