Justin's phone vibrated as the bus came to a stop at Dunrovia College, the disembarkation procedure as time-consuming as the alighting one. At least this time Robin kept his jokes to himself.
He read the message, frowning—thumb scrolling through to click on the link. It took him to a MyTV channel, whose presenter had thrown out a challenge that had now been viewed and commented on thousands of times. His first thought had been, No, it's not possible. The second, could I...?
... escape from here. Compete?
In the Portacabins reserved for vampire students at Dunrovia College, he turned the idea over. He would need special permission. The college's new chancellor had taken up the job at the start of the new term. Unlike the last one—who left under a black cloud filled with allegations of financial mismanagement—Deborah James claimed to value every student. Even the immortal ones.
"Especially the immortal ones," she'd told them as she sat on a table in the Portacabins, a high-heeled shoe dangling off one foot as she swung it back and forth.
"I've been a teacher all of my adult life," she said, "and so many times, I've watched my students leave as soon as they're old enough and thought to myself, 'Damn it, Deborah! If only I'd had another two years! I could have turned everything around for them.'
She tilted her head to the side. "Not the case here, though, is it? You and I can stay together until you are the best and most fabulous versions of yourself that you can be."
She looked so thrilled by the prospect that it was impossible not to like her.
Chancellors' diaries didn't usually allow short-notice meetings, but he landed lucky arriving at Deborah's office at the same time as she did. Deborah saw him sitting in the waiting area outside her office and waved him through, ignoring the protests of her pinch-mouthed secretary.
Deborah had changed the layout of the chancellor's room. What had once been an old-fashioned office—book-lined walls, mahogany desk and the ticking clock in the corner—was now much friendlier. A computer on a desk in the corner. Armchairs and sofas around a virtual fireplace, its flames licking the air. On her walls, digital pictures changed every minute. Camera clicks of all the classes the college offered. He caught sight of a tutor bent over applying nail varnish, watched by half a dozen students, Maya one of them.
An out-of-date picture. The college had expelled Maya before Deborah's time.
"Sit down, Justin" she said, astonishing him by remembering his name. "I've got ten minutes before an all-too thrilling budget meeting. Are you due to leave us?"
Attendance at Dunrovia College was compulsory for young vampires—'young' in the sense of newly converted to the undead state. A two-year course taught human/vampire integration and how the state licensing of vampires worked before letting vampires loose on the world.
With caveats. Stay here. Obey the curfew. Follow rules one to however many it was that were part of the state licensing programme.
He shook his head. "I've got another year to do. Can I get permission for something? I guess you could call it work experience."
At that, she piqued an eyebrow.
"There's this guy on MyTV," he said. "A professional chef who runs a food channel that everyone tunes into, Aaron Eats, and he's been—"
"Let me guess. He's cottoned on that you might be competition and thrown out a challenge?" Deborah pre-empted him. Whatever jungle drums she listened to, or rather monitored online, were up to date.
Maya had blazed a trail for popular MyTV channels featuring vampires. Most of the time, she uploaded vampire makeovers where she used make-up to humanise the undead and threw in social commentary about the difficulties of living as a vampire. Two months ago, she began filming him cooking, adding in footage of herself going into paroxysms of joy as she ate. "Like, best chicken pasty in the whole wide world! You're amazing!"
Aaron, aka Aaron Eats, had watched them. How could a vampire, someone not able to taste food as he prepared it, make anything decent, he asked his viewers. Justin should cook with him, head-to-head. They would both prepare the same dishes and asked diners to work out who'd made what.
In the comments below the film, a restaurant owner had stepped forward. "Guys! Brilliant idea. You're welcome to use my venue."
"You've seen it then?"
Deborah confirmed she had.
Justin dipped his head. "Is it okay if I take part?" he asked Deborah, willing her to nod.
She paused for a while before answering. "Work experience is something I feel strongly about."
Deborah's secretary bustled in, bearing a tea tray loaded with old-fashioned China cups and a teapot. She glared at Justin—her reaction an all-too familiar one.
"Ailsa!" Deborah's expression shifted from encouragement to commandment. "Justin's been offered a wonderful opportunity. You should congratulate him."
She left no room for manoeuvre. Ailsa muttered, "well done," dumped the tray in front of them and fled.
Deborah's mouth twitched. "Sorry, Justin. I'm still trying to persuade her that you're not the bad guys. It's going to take some time. Remind me, can you drink tea?"
He shook his head. She poured herself a cupful. "Dreadful stuff anyway. Stains your cups and teeth like nothing else. Is becoming a professional chef your goal?"
"It used to be," Justin replied. But then vampirism came along and cut off that career path, along with everything else. An evening spent cooking in a professional kitchen wouldn't make him a chef, but the experience was as close as it might come.
He picked up one of the biscuits on the tray and sniffing it. "Burton Biscuits, right?"
Deborah picked up the packaging and turned it over. "Spot on."
"Made by robots. Using GM wheat. Trans-fats. Emulsifiers. A chemical that makes it last ninety days when the ingredient should have rotted after three. Thoughts about food..."
Inhabit too much of my waking day. But into the shower I take in the morning. Tiptoe their way into my sleep...
Deborah's nibbling of the biscuit stopped and she put it down. "There's a lot of paperwork needed to get you out of here."
"I know."
She got to her feet and snapped her fingers. The computer in the corner flickered into life and she snapped out the order for it to print out Form 362—the one that would grant him permission to leave the college before his official two years there was up.
I'm gonna get the chance to cook in a five-star restaurant! Justin dampened down the thought immediately. Vampire Security would throw up all sorts of obstacles, all safety related.
Paper copy in hand, Deborah opened her door. "Providing Vampire Security agrees, you're free to go ahead. In the meantime," her hand on the door handle, she turned back to face him, "why not show me what you're capable of? Shall we make our way to the catering unit?"
One blissed-out chancellor later—he'd made her deep-fried calamari with a soy dipping sauce—he headed for the Portacabins, happier than he'd been in forever. Sure, Maya cheered up everything but this... the chance to cook in a top restaurant, something he'd accepted as impossible thanks to vampirism.
Outside the Portacabins, Shayla greeted him, breaking off from a conversation with a group of students. Maya and Shayla's channel preached the 'be friends with vampires, they're just like you and me!' message but societal shifts took forever. This marked the first time he'd ever seen so many of them crowding around Shayla, begging for advice on how to make yourself a MyTV star.
One student sidled up to him. "Justin, right? I'm Crystal. I've seen you on MyTV. Like, wow! If you ever need another taste tester, call me first, right?"
Behind Crystal, Shayla's mouth twitched. Another first. A human other than Maya full-on flirting with him. The story would make her hoot with laughter when he told her later.
Crystal tipped her head up, staring at his green-tipped dreads. "D'you mind if I touch them, Sugar?" she asked without waiting for a reply before running her hand through his hair, a surprisingly firm grip pulling on the back of his head, forcing him closer to her, his head locked in an uncomfortable angle.
"Just like a human's!" The tip of her tongue reached out as her fingernails dug into his scalp. "What's kissing you like? The same?"
Her acolytes tittered. "Nah," one said. "Their breath must stink!"
Crystal puckered up, edging closer to him. "Shall I find out?" The grip on his head tightened.
Shayla's smile vanished as her eyes signalled a warning. His eyes must have darkened over, and his teeth appeared, the uncontrollable impulse when humans, vaccinated or not, turned into prey.
He blinked, reaching up for Crystal's hand. "Ask my girlfriend. Sugar."
Had he wanted to, he could have gripped her forearm and hurled her across the car park. He settled for wrapping his fingers around Crystal's and lowering it to her side. The woman's grin didn't waver—an understanding she'd worked out his thoughts and what would have happened if he'd acted on instinct.
Forget ever being allowed to leave the college for a start.
The bus drove in. A novelty to greet it with relief. "Gimme your phone," he told Crystal. As he expected, hers was a top of the range model, capable of photographing vampires. He beckoned Shayla, wrapped an arm around her and Crystal and took a photo. "Something to remember us by."
A picture, and an issue Crystal wouldn't discover until days later. By then, she wouldn't know who to blame. He'd activated a little-known setting on the phone that deleted all your photos, videos, messages, saved passwords, contacts and more.
The guards jumped out of the bus. He and Shayla shifted away from the students. "Sorry about that," Shayla whispered. She always defaulted to taking the blame for everything.
Chained up once more, the bus hit a pothole as it trundled out, jolting everyone. Justin suspected the drivers did it deliberately, knowing how uncomfortable it was to be crammed into a too-small vehicle with chains chaffing at the skin.
Days as a vampire always threw in an unpleasant reminder to take the edge off any happiness or triumph. How he'd longed to sink his teeth into Crystal's throat, puncture the skin and hit that main artery... Watch the fear in her eyes as the life drained out of her.
That instinctive reaction hadn't happened in ages. Not since he and Maya had started dating as that kept him hyper-conscious of the need to keep her safe. Maya's immunisation against vampires protected her, but a riled-up vampire would terrify anyone. When Crystal gloated over him, the instinct had flared up far too easily.
Once they were back at Vamp Towers and out of hearing range of the guards, Shayla stopped him. "That silly woman didn't bother you, did she, Justin?" she asked, stuttering as she said the words. Shayla, the only vampire in the world who considered 'silly woman' a horrific insult. "Your teeth appeared so quickly. I-I thought you might..."
He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Wait until you hear what I did to her phone!"
She stopped. "Justin! Revenge is a like drinking from a cup of poison every day and expecting it to hurt the person you dislike."
A typical Shayla-ism, as he called them. "Whatever." They let themselves into Vamp Towers, parting ways as Shayla headed for the communal lounge, and Justin for his room.
The room had undergone a make-over in the past five months. While Maya had her own room at Vamp Towers, they spent most of their nights here, as his room was slightly bigger. Thick, velvet curtains draped the small window—the colour matched to the moss-green throw over the bed, contrasted with gold cushions. Books, stacked in piles, seeing as there were no shelves, lined the wall to the side of the bed and his prized possessions, a photo of he and Maya and another of Alice on the narrow chest of drawers next to his bed.
He took off his trainers and lay back on his bed, head and feet taking up almost the entire length of the bed and watched Aaron's challenge once more. The film had now clocked up half a million views, making it MyTV's most popular film for Friday the third of October.
Why did that date ring a bell?
It struck him a few minutes later. The day Alice died. His mother had left the family in so much debt, they'd needed to move house, after which the vampires came for him and his brother and ruined their lives.
Ruined. That's what you think.
Lewis argued with Justin in his head all the time, no matter how much he told Maya he thought about his brother "hardly at all." The voice sounded so real Justin often wondered if Lewis had managed the impossible, telekinesis across a vast distance. Sure, his brother's prison wasn't that far away, but speaking to each other in their heads shouldn't be do-able.
I'd do anything to be human again, he argued back, deciding the only reason Lewis's voice popped up in his head all the time was their one-time closeness, which made it easy to guess his twin's opinions.
Speak for yourself. Idiot. Like that one.
Then, Miss you.
Justin sighed, turning over to face the picture of him and Maya. Even his imagination didn't stretch to pretending Lewis uttered the words, "miss you."
Knuckles rapped lightly on his door. "Justin? Can I come in?"
"Sure."
Lara slid into the room, closing the door softly behind her. Older than most of them by at least one hundred years, Lara's lean, wiry-body, gaunt face and inability to look anything other than bloodsucker-like belied the intense kindness underneath. She leant against his door.
"I've had this message from your mother," she said, watching his face carefully. "D'you want to hear it?"
AUTHOR'S NOTES - this is a new and extensively revised version of this book. Hope you like this introduction to Justin (again, if you've read the first book, Beautiful Biters). Do you think it's realistic that vampires might be obsessed with food, seeing as all they can eat is blood?! I reckon I made Justin obsessed with food because I am myself... ;)