No Life Kid 4B

“The Quileutes… we have legends…”

By the time the sky darkened properly over First Beach, the bonfire finally roared to life as everyone gathered around the pit as it cast its flickering orange lights across all their faces to match the setting sun. Jacob Black, despite being the youngest of everyone here, took center stage. 

Maybe because he was the son of a chief or what, but the kid knew how to use his voice and project with the best of them; the dramatic spooky cadence not even out of place in the mouth of the natural performer.

As the fire burned bright, Jacob told the story of the “cold ones,” and all the while, Zander had to physically bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Not because it was funny, but because the kid was so goddamn right and he didn’t even know it yet..

“They were creatures of perfect beauty…”

Check. Samantha and Taliesin matched that perfectly, all diamond skin and supermodel faces right before they started ripping throats out in the rave that night.

“…and perfect evil…”

Eh, ‘evil’ is a strong word. As sociopathic as these vampires were, they barely even saw humans as people. ‘Assholes’ fits better.

“…who fed on human blood.”

Check.

“The tribe’s warriors were the only things fast enough and strong enough to hunt them. They weren’t men anymore. They were… wolves.”

Zander’s eyes flicked over to the big guy standing just past the fire with two of his friends. The guy hadn’t bothered to introduce himself but the little Zander remembered did the job of filling in just enough for him. Sam… Sam something. The last name might have slipped his mind, but the guy’s first name was something he was sure of as anything else. 

From where he stood, Sam stared into the fire as his buddies flanked him, all their faces stone masks of focused simmering anger. Wolves. 

The irony was thick enough to bite into (heh). 

Here he sat, a real fucking vampire, listening to a soon-to-be-werewolf tell ghost stories about other vampires to a girl who was about to fall in love with one.

A supernatural sitcom waiting for a laugh track… It was honestly surprising that it wasn’t a comedy as ridiculous as this whole thing was. Why live in the same neighborhood as giant wolves that want you dead?

“So,” Jessica’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts before he could laugh out loud. Zander blinked as he realized the bonfire was dying down, the group already splitting up. “You believe any of that?”

Zander stood up and she rose with him, hugging herself against the cold. Her scent was muted by the woodsmoke, thank Stoker. Blue eyes still behind sunglasses looked out at the black water as they drifted away from the dying fire, both of them edging closer to the water’s edge as the waves crashed in a steady, heavy rhythm.

“In a world full of mysteries?” He tilted his head, not quite looking at her as he gave a slow smile aimed out at the frothy white water. “It’d be real silly of me to say what isn’t really out there, you know? People have been wondering about stuff we haven’t figured out with all the science we’ve got, y’know. So, honestly…” 

A sigh left his lips. “Why not?”

“Wow.” She laughed, soft and quiet as she stared up at him. “You’re… That was like… unexpectedly deep, Zan.”

…not really. He turned that smile her way anwyway. “I’m full of unexpected things, Jess.”

“I’m counting on it.” Her eyes held his for a second too long, that heartbeat already kicking up speed again.

Yeah, you are.

Her arm in his, Zander walked her back toward the path to the parking lot, the sound of the ocean fading behind the crunch of their shoes on the gravel. This was going well. Maybe he’d even…

Whatever he was planning on slipped his mind as three figures stepped their way out of the darkness, blocking the path. 

The vampire stopped where he stood, Jessica’s arm falling out of his, his eyebrow going skyhigh behind his sunglasses. Sam… He narrowed his eyes. Sam Wise? No, that’s the guy Frodo was cool with. Whatever the werewolf’s name was, he stood there, as unsmiling as ever; he and his two friends doing their very best at playing the part of a fence.

And, like Sam, they were hot. That same space-heater aura was rolling off all three of them in waves, a dry, animalistic heat that had nothing to do with the bonfire.

Zander bit down on the urge to make a joke, well aware it was a losing battle as he stared at the wall of muscle and unspoken warning that were the three Quileute shifters.

“Zander?” Jessica grabbed his arm again, fingers digging into the dark denim of his jacket as her voice went small. Her pulse was even faster now, stress wafting off her as her heartbeat rabbited against his bicep.

“It’s cool, Jess.” Pulling her arm free from his, he patted her back with it and pointed with his other over to the car. “Walter’s right over there. Get on in, and lock the doors if you feel like it. I’ll be right there.”

“But…” She blinked at him. “Lock the doors?”

“If you feel like it.”

“I.. I…” Jess’s mouth moved silently for a few seconds, her eyes trailing back to the three Native wolf-people who had chosen now of all moments for their forced meet and greet. “Zander, do you… do you know them?”

“Know them?” He pulled a face, shaking his head as he lied with the quickest of ease. “These guys? Zander jabbed a thumb over in the direction of the still-silent shifters. “Yeah, of course, I know them. Just some guys from the gym I’ve talked to a couple times. Probably just want to ask about my protein mix or something.” 

He gave her a little push as she kept staring back at him, clearly struggling to believe the best lie he had ever come up with. “Go on. It’s fine.”

His date still hesitated for a moment before her eyes landed on the musclebound trio, and that last look was all it took for her to bolt, sneakered footsteps scattering gravel.

Thank you, finally. With a fresh pull of air he didn’t need, Zander finally turned his full attention to the three of them, hands sliding into his jean pockets as he let his head tilt. “Alright, boys, I know I’m pretty but the fuck is wrong with you?” 

He clicked his tongue. “Ruining the vibes of my date for what? If it’s ‘cause you’re jealous, I’m sorry but I don’t go for dudes. Especially not when they move in herds.”

The one on the left, face carved from angry granite, took a single step forward only to stop when Big Sam held up one hand. The leader of the three took a step in his place, hard eyes firm on Zander. “What are you?”

What. Zander’s grin snapped back into place, all teeth this time. “Man, c’mon. We’re in the same state, you’ve got a better grasp of the language than this. ‘What’ is for, like, objects. ‘Who’ is for people. I’m.. a person.”

Zander nodded his head slow. “Person, just like you. Y’know, apart from the skin color. I’m a person and you’re… a very large, very warm person. See?” He clicked his tongue again. “Not that hard.”

“What,” Sam’s voice tightened, the repetition clearly worsening his already-poor mood, “are you?”

Rocking back on his heels, Zander forced another breath of air out of his mouth. “Well, nice to meet you, too. I’m Zander. Alexander James Cray, if you’re nasty.” 

He offered a hand that nobody took, the air still silent as Sam just stared.

“Don’t worry, I know your name, Samue…” Zander blinked, pieces suddenly falling together as he remembered exactly what his name was. “Samuel Uley.”

That got a reaction, his last minute guess clear and obviously correct as all three of them flinched.

Sam’s jaw clenched. “How do y-“

“Know your name?” Zander cut him off with a nod. “I have an approximate knowledge of many things, Sam Uley. It’s kinda my whole deal.” That and bullshitting. He gestured back toward the parking lot. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I got a ride waiting.”

“Not what I asked.”

“If we’re being technical,” Zander sighed as he started to walk around them, ignoring the eyes trailing him. “It is. You asked ‘what are you,’ which is grammatically fucked, and then you said ‘how do you know my name,’ which I answered. So, we’re good.”

A low sound rumbled out of Sam’s chest; a real, actual growl.

Zander stopped, halfway past them, and rolled his eyes so hard it almost hurt. “C’mon, growling, Sam? Seriously? We’re doing that? Jesus, man, have some decorum, why don’t you?” It was honestly pathetic if that’s what the limits of this guy’s skills were; both interrogation and patience-wise. “What’s next, you gonna huff, and puff, and blow my house down? That’s just… that’s theater. It’s corny.”

“What. Are. You?” 

This fuckin’ guy, man… Zander remembered the wolves as being hard to deal with, but this was just not even funny anymore. “Not a Cold One, that’s for sure.” He tapped his chest, right over the thing thump-thump-thumping away with the still-fresh blood of a dead man. “I know all of you can hear what’s inside my chest.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed as he sniffed the air, nostrils flaring as his upper lip curled. “You smell like blood. A lot of blood.”

“I do,” Zander couldn’t deny that, nodding slowly. “And what else?”

Sam sniffed again, face losing some heat to it as his angry sneer fell away. “…Cold Ones.”

“Dead Cold Ones.” The correction came with a snap of his fingers, the sound a sharp crack in the night air as Zander started walking away for real this time. “Think about what that could mean, Sam.”

“We’re not done here.” Sam called after him, his voice a command.

Zander didn’t look back as he waved a lazy hand over his shoulder. “Think we are!”

A few seconds later, he slid into the back seat of the BMW, door clicking shut with a soft, expensive sound that sealed out the angry heat of the spirit animals in the parking lot. “Walter, drive.” 

“Of course, Master Cray.”

“Oh my god, Zander, who were those guys?” Jessica leaned forward, voice shaky and face pale.

The most reassuring 100-watt smile he could manage found itself on his face as he looked over at his panicked date.. “Just some bodybuilders. Super intense guys, but just wanted to pitch me an idea for their new supplement company.”

“Oh… wow.” Jessica blinked, clearly buying it as the tension bled out of her. “They seemed… really scary.”

“Yeah,” Zander’s head tilted back, resting up against the rich leather. “Real intense. But they do good business.”