Glamoured: A Modern Fairy Tale

14. Vampire PenPal

Eleanor sprinted down the drive so fast she could've won a medal in track and field. She ran into the woods, jumped over the rocky New England soil at a breakneck pace. She reached the Tracker at six, and the setting sun stained the sky rose and orange. Eleanor tossed her daypack into the backseat and gunned the Tracker, peeling out onto the back road.

She let out a string of curses, her hands shaking on the wheel. She panted, using a permanent car-stash bandana to wipe down her sweaty forehead. She glanced at the sky. It would be dark soon.

Eleanor gunned the Tracker, ripping off the gravel and out onto the road. She fidgeted with the radio, blaring some rock music to keep her nerves under control. She'd met a vampire...a real, live...dead?...vampire. You g chatted with a vampire, she thought. She hadn't known Wes was a vampire, but all his shut-in 'I'm so sick' behavior made a certain type of sense. She'd thought he was lonely, and there'd been a kid in the grade below her that had cancer. That happened to people, even young people. No rational person's first thought on meeting a guy was 'oh, must be a vampire.' Still, she kept mentally kicking herself for not suspecting something with Wes.

This was why people always told you not to make friends online.

Eleanor's phone buzzed, and she jumped, swerving into the center of the road. Eleanor jerked the wheel back, glad she'd been on a deserted backroad and not a highway. She was already too shaky to drive and didn't want to risk checking her texts.

Eyes on the road, she took a deep breath. Calm nerves, calm hands, he can't get you now, she thought, coaching herself through her fears. She wasn't far from home, but she didn't want to go there. She needed to go to Jo's apartment and tell her she'd found the vampire.

An uncomfortable feeling settled in Eleanor's stomach. She hadn't told anyone she'd talked to Wes online...that she'd inadvertently become friends with a vampire. If she told Jo, would she want to kill him? Farah told her there was no such thing as a good vampire, and Eleanor believed her. Farah had practical experience with vampires, which was a lot more useful than reading books or watching movies—the limit of what Eleanor knew about vampires.

Computers work like mirrors...that's what Wes said. Farah hadn't known that about vampires. You should go talk to her and tell her about all of this, Eleanor thought.

Then you'll have to go stake him, a little voice in her head whined. When faced with vampire Wes, she hadn't even been brave enough to squirt him with the garlic scrape oil. She tried to picture herself driving a stake into his chest, but the image made her giggle manically.

You're not Buffy, she thought. She was a student—a shitty one—and a rock climber—an okay one—but not a freaking vampire hunter. Part of her squirmed, uncomfortable with the idea of killing someone that didn't deserve death—undead or not. He said he wasn't the murderer...that he didn't kill those people...but he had attacked Jo.

"There are no such things as good vampires," Eleanor muttered, pulling up to the curb beside Jo's apartment. She raked her hand through her greasy hair and sighed. She was here, she could relax.

You're not even safe inside, she reminded herself, but Farah said vampires were weak indoors. They thrived in the open.

Kind of like you, her mind teased.

Eleanor groaned, grabbed her backpack, and slammed the car door. She trudged up the steps to Jo's apartment and got buzzed in. Eleanor pushed open the door, letting out a sigh of relief to find Jo watching a crime TV show.

"You went for a run," Jo said, slurping on noodles. "You're lucky I'm a dirt bag. Most friends like it when you shower before you come over to hang."