Vampires Never Get Old - Zoraida Cordova Page 0,67

him before I saw him. I’ve never experienced that wave, that gentle surge, like I did when this strange boy stood across the lake from me. Is that a vampire thing? Is that something we can do? My parents never told me about anything like that, but then again, they’ve kinda left out a lot of things about me. Oh well.

He whispered, and I heard every word.

“We had to make sure you were alone,” he said.

“‘We’?”

“There are others,” he said, and those words … they thumped in my chest, pressed on my heart. “We’ve been watching you. Trying to find the right time.”

The desert was silent around us. His voice was deep, so soft, his words a thrumming rhythm in my ears.

“The right time for what?”

“To make contact.”

And then he was right next to me. “I’m Kwan,” he said. “And you’re not the only one.”

I flinched, took a step back. The surge pushed against my body, like invisible hands were pressing on my chest. I heard it all: The beetles toiling in the dirt. The snake slithering underneath a bush to the west. The gentle lapping of water at the edge of the lake. Was that a coyote howling? I turned my head in its direction but could not see it. How far away was it? Fifty miles? A hundred? How could I possibly hear at that distance? I focused on Kwan’s face, shutting out the sudden invasion of sounds.

“It’s new, isn’t it?”

His voice was confident. When had I last spoken to someone other than my parents? The words coming out of his mouth terrified me. Thrilled me. He was so beautiful, with smooth skin, sharp cheekbones, dark eyes, his hair jet-black and silky.

I wanted him. It was as simple as that.

“What’s new?” I asked, resisting the urge to press my lips against his. Why? Why was this happening?

“The feeling you get,” he said, and he smiled, flashing his teeth at me. They were sharp like mine.

“What is it?” I breathed my words, like an exhale I had been waiting a lifetime to release.

“It’s what happens when we are together. People like us.”

I swallowed down my desire. “Who do you think I am? Like what?”

“We were all born just like you,” said Kwan, and he stepped closer. I held my ground. “We shouldn’t exist, but we do.”

“How did you find me?”

He smiled, his lip curling up on one side. “Dude, you have a blog.”

I winced. “Wait, really? That’s how?”

He nodded. Stepped closer.

“It’s weird to see you again,” Kwan said. “Even after that first time, I didn’t want to believe you were real.”

He raised a hand.

When his fingertips grazed over my cheek, I trembled. An electricity passed from him to me, and I could see so far, could hear so much, could feel the energy from my last feed growing within me.

“We have been trying to find you for weeks.”

His index finger ran along my jaw.

“We have something you want.”

Then it was on my bottom lip.

And he was so close.

His hand moved to the curls on the right side of my head.

“They’re shorter on this side,” Kwan said. “Did you know that?”

I laughed. I knew I was right!

His eyes went wide.

A whoosh.

He was gone.

I held my breath, and then I heard a crackling behind me.

Papi.

Mami trailing behind.

“Cisco?” she called out, and I tried to pretend like my whole life hadn’t changed.

“Aquí, Mami,” I said.

She gracefully dodged the cacti and ocotillo bushes. “What are you doing out here?” She was worried again, and her gaze was piercing.

So I told her the truth.

(Well … a truth.)

“This place,” I said. “It makes me feel better. And a little less alone.”

Papi joined her side, and he scowled. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe I should have kept it to myself. But I could see from the pain on their faces that they believed it.

And if they believed me, they wouldn’t question why I was at the lake in the first place.

Mami played with her long hair for a few moments. “Do you really feel alone?” she finally asked.

Tears pricked my eyes, and I had to turn away. Wasn’t it obvious? Wasn’t it so crystal clear that I was completely isolated, that I was desperate for anything outside the life they’d made for me?

“Sometimes,” I said, offering them a concession of sorts.

“I’m sorry you had to see … you know … what you saw, mijo.” Mami laced her fingers with Papi’s and continued, “I know we haven’t really talked about it. We just don’t want