myrrh

Chapter 2

"Sorina!" I vaguely heard my mother's voice calling to me, reaching through the thick curtain of my slumber. I groaned, taking the heavy, fluffy blanket I used as a comforter and pulling it over my head. Trying to settle back into sleep, I delighted in the quiet, slowly falling back into the soft hands of sleep. "Sorina!" Mom's voice shattered that fleeting moment of peace and I huffed, throwing the blanket from me.

"Okay, I'm getting up," I yelled back. Moving out of bed slowly, I blinked in the faint light of morning. Sighing, I reluctantly stood up and began my day.

I stared absentmindedly at the nook above my headboard as I pushed my arm through my shirt, my eyes skimming over the hundreds of eggs I had taken hostage over the years. Eggs that belonged to birds, snakes, lizards, and the occasional turtle were sorted precisely on the many shelves that were built into the wall behind my bed. I had sorted them by color rather than size, and the rainbow above my head as I slept wrapped me in a sense of security, knowing that nature was surrounding me even as I slept.

Standing in front of my full-length mirror behind my bedroom door, I looked at myself criticizingly. I had always thought of myself as pretty. My wide brown eyes blinked back at me, full lips smiling and my snub nose turned up ever so slightly. However, I had always felt something was missing. I had debated on a piercing or two, but didn't want the holes left behind if I decided against it eventually. I leaned in closer, scrutinizing my face for any new pimples or blemishes. Teenage hormones were a rollercoaster and I could not wait to get off of the ride.

I lifted my arms and ran my hands through my dirty blond, thick, waist-length hair, fanning it out, seeking to add volume and uncover any stray strands that had been buried between my skin and my shirt. I ran my hands down my front, smoothing down the off-white sweater I had adorned over a plain white camisole top. The sweater hung loose around my shoulders, exposing them slightly but not enough to break the dress code for school. The cargo pants I had paired with my first day back to school outfit were baggy and olive, color matching with my Nike dunks.

I made a quick nod at myself and hoisted my backpack onto my shoulder, moving into the kitchen where I was greeted by my mom with a kiss on the cheek and a notice that my breakfast was ready.

"Damned animals," Dad growled, throwing his newspaper on the table as I sat down with my plate of bacon, eggs, and two golden pieces of toast. I peered curiously over my plate, munching on a piece of just right, not too chewy, not too crispy bacon. Two Dead in Werewolf Gas Station Robbery, Four Pumps Explosion, the headline wrote. "Nobody is taking any kind of accountability here. These beasts are treading the very borders of the treaty. They play it off as accidents, but I think differently. I thought we moved here because it was safer."

"It is safer, dear," Mom sighed from the sink, taking a sip of her coffee elegantly. "Back in San Jose there would be tens of stories like that daily, remember?"

My father hmphed noncommittally and resumed his breakfast, irked. I ate quietly, making no move to join in the conversation. I had no room to talk, my best friend was one of those 'dogs' he hated oh so much. Although he would never tell Mako to his face, my father was one of many who did not approve of our fellow Earth inhabitors: Werewolves.

The precise details like where the wolves originated from and who had made the deal had been lost, apparently not important enough details to be passed down. According to my first-grade history teacher, and every teacher of bygone times after him, the wolves were pretty much the sole reason we won the Bleeding Moon war. They offered us their assistance some three hundred years ago, at a time when we had thought all was lost, and that there was no chance of winning against the bloodthirsty creatures that toyed with human lives like they were playthings. Humans against vampires wasn't the best matchup. If we knew nothing about the wolves, then we knew even less about our enemy.