Chapter 14 – Impressions

Vamped

Previously, Mark helps Misty get ready for school, and they talk about their recent argument. Misty considers trying out for cross country, but has to pull up her grades first. Mark invites Misty and her mother to meet his coven.

Friday

I don't know if it was nerves about the dinner party or how boring things were now that Arabelle had backed off, but the week flew by.

Mark had continued stopping by my home on the way to school, but stayed down in the kitchen. He insisted he didn't want to get on my Mom's bad side. “Pfft. Like she would care. She keeps telling me that it's normal to have these urges and full-blood vampires feel perpetually horny from age ten on.” I checked his face to see any hint of whether this were true for him, but he kept his expression suspiciously neutral.

Ashton and Amber began joining us on our morning walks, updating us on their various extracurricular gossip. I still wasn't sure what the point of a student government organization was, but it was nice to know the school was planning to reduce its cafeteria menu before it actually happened. At least I could plan for it, even if that meant making my own lunches from now on.

Now that I was actually turning in my homework, my teachers had stopped switching between pestering me and pretending I didn't exist. Some even smiled at me when I walked into class now. The classes themselves were still tedious and mostly the same material from middle school, but now I paid enough attention to give an answer whenever I was called upon.

Class with Newcastle was still boring and stupid. Catherine had stopped correcting him and no longer asked questions about his interpretations. She just quietly wrote down everything he said. Arabelle spent the period gazing out the window with a mopey look on her face, but the rumors were she was already grooming someone for soccer tryouts.

Jackson had been more helpful than I expected with the tutoring. I tried to finish as much work as I could during lunch and practice so he'd be around to answer questions. And math made a lot more sense with his illustrations and examples, so I actually did well on the entry quizzes this week. If only he could give the lectures, I wouldn't have to sit through a useless one just to use up my free time with another.

Sitting in on the boys' practice was my new favorite part of the day. That used to be my daily drink, but there's something so invigorating about approaching a group of people who turn and smile and welcome you into their folds. Even with the tutoring and drills, it was more stimulating than sitting at home with a glass of blood in the evening.

But now that I was facing another large group of people for the first time, I was wishing Mom hadn't canceled her Friday yoga class and that I was busily avoiding the clucking hens rather than getting my hair tugged on while she tried to soothe my nerves.

“Meeting a new coven is fun! You get to see how they manage in today's social climate and learn new recipes. There's always a virgin sacrifice, followed by an orgy…”

“What!?” My voice went up two octaves in response to this new bit of information.

But Mom just laughed. “I'm kidding! They rarely do sacrifices anymore and the sex thing varies from group to group. I'm sure Mark would have warned you if either was on the menu tonight.”

I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, since my mother was doing such a terrible job of calming me on her own. “So then what do covens do when they welcome in a new member?”

She shrugged. “Mine had a potluck for me when I joined the yoga group. I brought your Nana's raw veal soup, which was a huge hit. Although they did create a new pose called the Mock Turtle in my honor, and it's not a very flattering position.” She gave a laugh that turned into a snort. “Generally, the night is representative of the community you're joining. What did the boys do at their party?”

I thought of the Twister tournament and public make-out sessions. “Oh, you know. Body shots, MDMA … All that fun stuff.”

She smiled fondly as she continued brushing out my hair. “I remember those days.”

I passed the time after school up in my room, trying not to think about the impending party. I wouldn't get to enjoy procrastinating if I was worked up about what was to come. But I was still fidgety when Mom came up to tell me to get ready. She waited while I slid into the cocktail dress, then pulled my hair into this double bun thing that was way simpler than it looked. “And now we'll pull out some baby hairs to curl so you look like a nubile nymph.”

I tried to glare at her, but she was behind me and didn't see my disdain. “Isn't that a bit redundant?” I asked, making the question more of a judgement than an inquiry. She snorted and kept quiet until it was time to go.

“If their sons already like you, it should be fine. Teenagers are the hardest people to please.” Mom smiled down at me, then gently nudged my hip with her own. “What matters is whether you like being around them. If you don't like their families, we won't do this again.” I nodded, relieved that she was leaving it up to me and for the reminder that I am here to be wooed into the community, as much as it felt like I should be impressing the others.

She handed me a light knit shawl to wrap around my head and donned her own. She insisted our hair was too well done to get frizzy in the rainstorm to come tonight, but hated being cooped up in her car. “We'll be arriving comfortably, and in style,” she winked, primping her hair beneath the wrap.

It was moments like these my mother stole my breath, and made me wonder why she had ever bothered to settle down with a man as scummy as my father. Looking like she did now, she could have anyone, vampire or human.

Her own dress coordinated well with mine, but wasn't an exact match. Both were sleek and form-fitting, high to our necks and falling just down to our knees. But where mine was a sweetheart neckline with lace flowers covering my collarbones, hers was a shallow v-neck with a simple mesh between her cleavage and throat. Her dress also had a mesh-covered gap at her midriff, showing off her tight tummy and sloping waistline. Mine was more conservative, fabric darting inward to hold tight to my skin, giving the illusion of curves.

But even in a matching dress, she would have stopped all conversation in any room she entered. Her deep burgundy hair made my lighter, brighter strands look like a cheap bottle red, and was pulled up into multiple loose French braids that were gathered into a large bun at the nape of her neck. She had scattered a few threads of her curls to frame her face, which held an intense expression that made her look ready to pull some poor fool to his death in a heavy current.

I secretly hoped the new coven had a bunch of singles she could seduce and relate to. She spent far too much time focused on her heartbreaking job and me. Come to think of it, I guess I could be pretty heartbreaking too, when I got the chance.

“Ready to brave the storm?” Mom said, beaming at me as if I astounded her as much as she did me.

I peaked my head outside a bit. The rain was somewhat strong, but not a torrent yet. “It's not really raining much, yet.”

She sighed at that. “I meant the storm of attention you're about to receive. Usually you panic a bit.”

I swallowed, but still had enough constitution to snark. “I don't panic at the attention, I panic at the judgement,” I clarified.

“Sometimes judgement leads to a positive ruling, dear.” She took my hand and led me out of the house, not bothering to lock the door. I don't think she had even locked her car since we moved here.

I showed her the path next to the road I regularly followed, and she was happy to stay out of the rain for now. We passed Ashton's house, which was already dark and lifeless. I wondered for a moment if Amber would be joining us, but remembered she still didn't know about the whole vampirism thing. I doubted any non-vamp would be attending this gathering.

When we reached the next driveway on the trail, there was an obvious presence in the house. Music flowed through the open windows, dark and sweeping, yet with a terribly quick beat. Lights were bright inside, but distorted through white privacy curtains. While a few cars sat in the drive, it was clear many preferred to walk, like Mom and I had.

Knowing we already shared some similarities and feeling an attraction to the ambiance of the place dispelled some of the anxiety that had built up at the thought of meeting the rest of Mark's coven all at once. I tried to imagine things going well. There were bound to be other things we had in common, and those would bring us together. Mom and I would enjoy the night and the chance to spend time with vampires who weren't yuppie PTA Moms.

Oh my God. My heart constricted as I held in a gasp. What if they were all PTA Moms?

Mom placed her arm in mine as we walked up the steps to the front porch. She brought her fist up to the door and knocked, three brisk, hard taps that silenced the conversation inside. “That must be them!” we heard from a muffled and gravelly female voice. The door opened, and we were greeted by a blonde woman who had Jeff's high cheekbones and light eyes.

The only thing I could think upon looking at her was, She is definitely not allowed on the PTA.

She couldn't have been more than thirty, but had this timeless way about her face that assured me she would look like a supermodel well into her seventies. Pair that with the way her long hair was piled on top of her head in this messy updo, plus the plunging neckline on her cranberry-hued velvet dress, and there was no way any suburban, alpha mother would ever work with her. The simple but languid way she held herself in the doorway screamed seductress. It screamed vampire.

Her grin widened and we heard the gravel in her voice again as she welcomed us into her lair. “Come in, dears, out of the rain,” she held out her hand and I copied my mom as she passed along her shawl. “I see you chose to walk, too. We were placing bets on whether you'd brave the weather or some cramped subcompact.”

I shook my head. “Mom hates driving. We took the path along the woods.” Her eyes crinkled at me and she stowed our things in the foyer closet, deftly avoiding the long, closely-tailored hemline with her high heels.

A quick glance told me this house was also a copy of ours, but not mirrored like Ashton's. Unlike his house, this home was lavish in a refined way. Instead of a shiny, stainless steel refrigerator, I saw a man pulling white bottles out of a fridge hidden by a door that matched the rest of the dark teal cabinets in the kitchen. The interior design was deep and moody, a far fetch from Ashton's sleek, bachelor pad home. Along with the earthy colors came a natural feel to all the surfaces. Everything was accented with wood or stone. I saw very little metal at all. What should have felt modern and cool was instead cozy and warm. I turned to Mom and saw her looking around, relaxing her shoulders at the anachronism between the musty vibe and clean lines.

Jeff's mom gestured for us to have a seat at the counter while she started pouring blood into red wine glasses. “I don't know how Jason does it. He goes to work in the city every day in that little blue Audi out front. Drives me nuts to spend more than five minutes in it at a time. I jog to work at the gallery across town, then shower in the studio workshop next door. It's less daunting than driving that whole way each afternoon.” She finished pouring the glasses and leaned forward, pushing her cleavage between her arms so there was more of her breasts out of the constricting top than inside it. The man who had been pulling bottles from the fridge approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her, and she sat up and leaned back against him, smiling.

“I like how much faster I can go in the Audi,” he said, nipping at her neck as she playfully swatted him away.

From behind them I saw Mark come around the corner from the dining room, and my jaw dropped. Amongst all the formalwear and crisp dress shirts, he stood casually in the middle of the kitchen in a leather jacket, t-shirt, and skinny jeans. Save for the band name scrawled across his top in bright red splattered ink, the whole ensemble was a uniform black. He smirked a half-smile and moved across the counter to sit next to me, wrapping his arm around me.

“That's what you wear to a dinner party meet-and-greet?” I hissed at him.

He shrugged. “I've already met you.” I sputtered as he turned to my mom. “Looking sharp, Kate.” She smirked back like they were old pals. “Ready to meet the whole gang?” He waited for me to nod, then took my hand and held his arm out for my mom.

What a gentleman.

Jeff's mom came around the counter then with who I assumed was her husband, judging by the light groping I saw below the countertop. “Nice to meet you, Ms…”

“Just call me Kimberly, love. This is Jason, of course. Our daughters are upstairs.”

“Excuse me?” Mom interrupted. “Daughters? With an S?” She looked around for confirmation, eyebrows as high as I've ever seen them. “There's two of them?” She followed Kimberly toward the stairwell half in a daze.

“Girls, why don't you come down and meet Misty's mother?” she called lightly. There was a thundering on the steps, then three girls about age ten stopped right before the final landing. Two were almost clones of Kimberly – high cheekbones showed softly against their rounded faces. One of them had gaps in her smile, showing a tooth starting to come in. The third girl had darker hair, coming down in wavy bangs and two thick braids. She also bore a strong resemblance to the rest of the adults in the room (including my own mother), but looked especially like Ash in the mouth and eyes.

“Would you like to introduce yourselves, or have me do it?” Kimberly asked, kindly.

“Me!” The two in front yelled, while a soft, “You,” echoed them from the back.

“All right then, come on down and say hello to Misty and Kate.” She moved aside so the girls could join us on the first floor.

One of Kimberly's daughters whispered to the other, then suddenly stood up straight, with her arm lofted out daintily. The other sister straightened her back and, in a deeper voice, said, “Here ye, here ye, introducing Alexandra, Duchess of the Rainy Woods and Lady to Her Majesty, Queen Kimberly-of-Our-House.” Alexandra swooped down the stairway with a poise I'd never seen from child and doffed her hand out to my mom.

“An honor, Your Grace” Mom said, then lowered herself into a curtsey deep enough to kiss the girl's hand. I took my turn bowing and kissing her hand.

“Thanks,” she said to Mom. “But you can just call me Alex.”

Her mother rolled her eyes, but smiled. “The home ballet recitals got a little intense, so this year we signed them up for the community theatre instead. You can see how well they took to that.”

Alex looked up to her sister. “Your turn, Lizzie.”

Lizzie's eyes bugged out. “Don't spoil it!” she stage whispered down the flight. Alex slapped her hand over her mouth comically. The girl then brought herself up to her full height, and flew down the stairs like a wisp. Her feet danced and grape-vined across each other as she went down each step, landing her softly at the base of the stairs and into a dramatic, flourishing bow. “I'm Elizabeth, hereto-forth known as Lizzie.”

“Wow,” Mom and I replied together. There wasn't much else to say. We both shook her hand, then looked up expectantly at the third and final girl.

She stood up straight, then spread out her fingers. Taking a deep breath, she brought her arms out straight in front of her, palms facing down. “Oh,” Kimberly said. “We might want to give her some room.” She shooed her daughters into the foyer, asking, “She's done this one here before, right?” The girls gave wide grins and nodded enthusiastically, peering over the railing to watch. Mom and I backed ourselves up against the wall.

The girl took another breath, then looked toward her two friends. “Now announcing,” they said in unison, “the finalist for the Olympic gold medal team, Selene Double-Front-Flyer!”

Kimberly gasped. “No double fronts off the stairwell! We just patched up this wall last month.” She turned a stern look to her girls, perfectly pulling off the supermodel glare.

Alex and Lizzie both sighed, and then amended, “Selene, the Single-Front-Flyer!”

Selene smiled a tight, fake smile, bounced once, then somehow threw herself up into the air, flipped in a tight circle, and landed with a light thunk in front of us. She threw her arms up above her and gave a classic gymnast's bow. We all applauded.

“How did you do that?” I asked. Selene blushed, then hid behind Kimberly.

“You know how it is at that age. You should have seen Jeffrey with the ball back then. He'd keep it away from any human who was foolish enough to try to take it. Had it bouncing from one knee to his shoulder like it was on a marionette string.” She shook her head. “I'm sure you went through that prodigy phase, Misty.”

I tried to find a response while my brain wondered whether I might not qualify for that trait, either.

Mom came to my rescue. “She's a really good runner. Faster than I was at her age.”

I felt Mark press up against my back and put his arms around my waist. “She's going out for cross country this spring.”

Kimberly nodded approvingly. “You might try some track & field activities too, you know. You've got the figure for pole-vaulting.”

As in pole-shaped, I thought bitterly. As if reading my thoughts, Mark pinched my butt just then.

Mom knelt down in front of the girls, gesturing for them to come closer for her to see. They all stood primly in front of her, eager to be inspected. “But how did you manage to have so many daughters? Everyone is always shocked when I bring up Misty.”

Kimberly gave a knowing smile, showing a dimple on one side. “Girls, go set the table. Use the nice flatware.”

The girls immediately squealed and squeezed in between us all to get into the kitchen, saying things like, “Ah, yes, Mumsy, the fine china,” and “Very spotting of you to show off for the guests.” Serene huffed a single, “Quite right,” and was off, trailing the other two as they flurried through the next room.

Kimberly directed us the other way, into the living room. She sat down on a dark green settee by a grand piano, and Mark pulled me down onto a chaise in front of their bay windows. Kimberly smiled and took mom's hand in a friendly way, patting it lightly.

“Well, we did it the old-fashioned way for Jeff, you know. Just went au naturel until I felt him there. But I really wanted a little girl, too. Not that there's really a difference, as you can see with how rowdy the lot of them are,” she smiled warmly in the direction of the dining room. “Well, Aston's mother, Victoria, she also wanted a girl. So we started asking around. And we came upon a curious rumor. It wasn't some genetic deficiency or odd environmental exposure that was causing us to all pop out boys.” I blanched at her crass language. “It was the blood.”

My mom shook her head, as confused as I was. “Like it takes a certain type, or…”

Kimberly sighed. “It has to be fresh.”

Mom and I both gave a drawn-out awww of understanding. Fresh. Like from a recently deceased body. Warm. Not yet corpse-like.

“So we used Victoria's access to the blood bank to take daily feedings straight from the bags. They would call us in anytime someone with an unusual blood type came in to give, and we would huddle up in a utility closet, lock the door, and suck down what we could.” Mom gave a shudder and Jeff's mom grimaced. “I know. It could have been one of those Would You Eat in Here? posters. But it had to be done that way. We still haven't worked out a system to move donations out the door faster.”

She laughed airily. “They always say the worst part of any diet is the food, but in our case it was the atmosphere. Nothing tastes good in a closet full of harsh cleaners and sodium citrate. But it was worth it, of course.” She looked into the foyer as she smiled again. “How did you manage with Misty?”

Mom's mouth stayed open for a second before she found her voice. “It was less of a diet and more of a … lifestyle,” she said, that last word coming out high and uncertain.

Kimberly's eyes widened and she took a moment to compose herself. “Well, to each her own. You said Misty was half-human?” she asked, fingering her temple. A cold chill ran down my spine, and I mentally braced myself to be kicked out of the dinner party before the food was even served.

Mom sensed this too, and hurried out. “Yes, and he passed on when Misty was in junior high.” Jeff's mom dropped her hand back to her lap and waited. “He was … a threat … in more ways than one.” She looked to me and I remembered him swinging the chopping knife around while Henrietta spat and warbled in front of me.

Kimberly looked at me too, and I tried to harden my face so she wouldn't see the emotions behind it. She nodded solemnly and clapped her hands together. “Well, you still haven't met the whole coven yet, so let's mosey back into the main room and see how dinner's getting on.” All the tension had run out of her, and I tried to let some of mine drip away, too. Mark squeezed my shoulder as we moved back into the kitchen, and sat back down at the counter.

Kimberly introduced the rest of the group in turn. “These are Ashton's parents, who throw the best high school parties in town, I'm told. I wouldn't know, I've never been invited to one.”

Ashton's dad laughed. “Neither have we!” He waved to us and said, “I'm Thomas.”

His wife shook both our hands. “I'm Katherine. It's nice to finally meet you, Misty.”

“Next up is this lot, who I'm sure you won't see much of in the future.” She winked at the couple, who chuckled back.

It was almost too easy to guess. There was no likeness there, of course. They weren't related. Or the same species, really. But the smile lines around the man's mouth and crinkles at the creases of the woman's kind eyes spoke of a home full of laughter. They looked exactly like Mark in that way.

“It's so lovely to meet you, Misty. We hope to see you around our home soon.” Mark's mom grabbed both my hands in hers and squeezed them. I turned to his dad.

“Let us know if this one's overstayed his welcome. We can lock him up at our place anytime you feel he's hanging around your house to much.” His dad grabbed my hand when I offered it and pulled me in for a man-hug, slapping me on the back.

“Actually, yeah, could you?” I ventured. Both Mark's parents guffawed and made quippy remarks at Mark while he blushed and rolled his eyes at the three of us.

“This is Anna,” Kimberly said next, pointing to a woman directing the girls as they set the table.

She nodded once to the both of us. “My two boys are about the girls' age. I thought it best to leave them home with Jeremy for the night.”

“And here's our dear Adam,” Kimberly breathed, as she introduced a man who could only be described as a heartthrob. As cheesy as that sounded, it felt like all the air was sucked from the room as I turned to him. How hadn't I seen him before?

“Hello Misty, dear,” he said, in the most luscious, velvety, dripping voice I had ever heard, and staring at me with the most gorgeous, deep, magnificent blue eyes I had ever seen.

No. Wait. He was staring at Mom.

I turned to her then, suddenly sure that this was him. This was the man for her. He would treat us right, and not squander all our money away into fantasy football, and he would absolutely love Henrietta at first sight.

But she wasn't looking back at him. She had a sort of Kate Winslet eyebrow cocked at the woman behind him, nose flaring. I looked around him too – not realizing in the moment how rude that was – to the person who had distracted my mother from her Prince Charming.

She was leafing through a photo book, next to the mantle of a fireplace that had been installed in the space between their kitchen and dining table. Her black hair was brushed to the side, partially covering her almond-shaped eyes, and there was a small smile forming on her lips. She looked up at the quiet, as if sensing the change in everyone's attention, and said, “Oh is it my turn? I'm Rei, also new here. I moved in during the summer, a bit earlier than you two. Not here, obviously. I have my own home. Somewhere else. Not that far, though. I also chose to walk.” She took a breath. “What are your names, again?” There was a sweetness in the way chagrin crawled into her cheeks at my mother's continued stare.

“Mom,” I hissed, hoping she'd snap out of it.

She glided over like a ghost, reaching out her hand to Rei as if sleepwalking. “I'm Kate,” she said, dreamily. “You smell lovely.”

I wasn't the only one whose eyebrows quirked at that.

However, the other woman took it in stride, not seeming to notice there was anything strange about the compliment. We all watched as she blushed and said, “Thank you. It's my shampoo. It's water lily and pear. You can try it sometime.” Her eyes widened. “Not in my shower, of course. I mean, I'll let you borrow it. You can take it with you, to your home, without me.”

Mom brushed her fingers through Rei's hair, then brought them up to her nose and breathed in softly, eyes fluttering. “No, I like your first idea better.”

I turned to look around, hoping I'd be able to live down this embarrassing moment. But the other couples were staring at their own partners longingly, and Adam had his head cocked to the side and was sighing like he was watching a romantic movie.

These people are just as crazy as we are, I thought. It was like that moment during the Twister party, when I realized I found a group who would accept me as I was. These people were nuts if they thought this was a touching moment, but that's what we needed out of a coven. People who thought our weird quirks were sweet and endearing.

Mark wrapped his arms behind me then and kissed the back of my neck. “That's everyone, darling. Want to join my coven?”

As one, the whole group turned toward me, and I had to fight the stage fright bringing bile to the back of my throat. “Well, it sure beats the yoga one I was in before.”

This was received with a round of laughter and clapping. I hadn't thought I would actually have to decide whether to join the group. It seemed like an automatic thing once I was invited. But I realized that it was a choice I would have to make, to be a part of this group or not. And I wanted to. There were more people around my age, the parents didn't expect me to run off with their sons, and I liked their taste in music. That's how normal people picked friends, right?

Jason held up his hands in welcome. “And with that, we feast!”

Mark took my hand in his and Jeff slapped me on the back as he and Ash joined their sisters in bringing out the platters of food and steaming dutch ovens into the dining room. From behind me I heard Rei ask, “Oh, you do yoga? Does that actually help with flexibility?”

My face went hot as I heard my mother murmur back, “I can show you some time, if you'd like.”