Star Mover

You have to see him to know what he's like. He's beautiful, strong, everything that you could want. His deep green eyes glitter when he says your name, like you are the sun that reflects in his eyes. It was like he could see your soul (now that I think about it, he probably could read minds) He is charming, an old-style gentleman, always manners until he gets his teeth at your neck. He's a predator, the gleam in his eyes that of a mountain lion. His attitude shows you the dangerous boy in him, drawing the girls more thoroughly than a thousand dollars.These things are made to attract the weak and the foolish--at least, in nature. The animals were smarter than we were--they scattered at the slightest hint of him. So, you can understand why they were all drawn to him.

He drew them in like a moth to a flame. He had his next week all set up for him, no hunting necessary. Their innocence was no inhibitor, more of an advantage. They would have no idea what was coming, due to the way our society has fantasized and fictionalized the supernatural. He just has to think of a good excuse for his victim's death or disappearance, show up, and take her to the movie. No brains, no brawn required. Just the fact that he wasn't human was enough.

He was a vampire. So, you can understand why he had to go. He was going to destroy us, one by one, slowly ruining our lives and our town. There wouldn't be any teenage girls left; the happiness would be sucked out of us from attending nearly consecutive funerals.

See, I'm a vampire hunter. I change schools every year, so that some community will have some peace for a while. We have fast reflexes, and good eyesight. Sense of smell is minimally better than humans, and we can hear your heart beat. It's the bare essentials to let us beat vamps. We can get better at certain things, and sometimes we can have special 'attributes' that are unique to us. For example, a boy I met was the son of two hunters, and when you put a bow in his hands, he could hit anything he wanted to. And, I mean, anything. Nadia, my partner, has night vision. No, silly humans, that is not standard in hunters or vamps. Pretty much anything that vamps have normally, we have to a lesser degree. Vamp's eyes are better than humans or hunters, and so they can see better at night. Plus, the practice helps. But, they can't exactly go and eat a few carrots.

I had heard about him from one of my friends who was in his class. Her eyes glowed with the blankness of a hypnotized human as she gushed about he had asked her to go to a movie with him next Saturday. My heart dropped. My best friend would be one of the first meals of the new foreign exchange student. (That was his cover story for maybe being a bit smarter than the rest of us.) I kept my cool, and smiled to her, hoping that I could find something to get her away from him.

The first time I saw him, I was walking home from school. He was surrounded by a group of girls, all of them staring with wide, hungry eyes, hoping that he would look at them, hold their gaze, speak to them, give them the attention of a man. He didn't glance my way, or pay me any attention whatsoever, for which I was grateful. He would have been able to see my differentness. I continued to walk, though I heard one of his flatterers say his name--Seamus.

He had to go, but the only way that I could come up with something that fast was if I followed him nonstop for the next couple of days, and then got rid of him Friday. Which would be difficult. I have to follow the next target to figure out patterns--when he heads home after school, what roads he takes, who he lives with--basic stalker knowledge.

I do happen to live with a human family. Who doesn't know jack about my secondary life. I'm almost 18, and they think I plan on just getting a job, and waiting a year for college, so I can save some money. My real plans are to take the year to figure out the easiest way to fake my death, and then it's D.C. or bust.

Washington D.C. is the vamp capitol of the world. Some of the most influential politicians and presidents were vamps. Easy pickings, not lazy like out here. There will be vamps everywhere, and I'll get my share. But if I go for somebody big, I'll have to disguise it. Car bombing, or a bank robbery. But the necessary creativity made the job soooo much more interesting.





At home, my life isn't near the same. I'm an only child, which makes it hard to get away with anything. But, I do like my parents. I've just never been around enough to 'love' them. I'll make sure they're safe, if need be, and I'll try to obey when I'm in the house, but they're more like a favorite teacher than a parent.

The big problem with them is--they don't know. They have no idea what I do one the weekends after the movies or with my 'friends.' And then I have to wash off the blood and be clean before I come home. That is the number one rule: NEVER come home with blood on you. I did that once and had to come up with a quick story, involving an accident with a knife at my friends house. Where I wasn't supposed to go. That was a touchy weekend.

The good news that comes after this little pity party is that I have friends. And these friends know everything. We're partners. But Nadia, my best friend, doesn't have a house that she has to go home to. So, she can sleep the day away, while I struggle to stay awake through college chemistry and computer class.

But we still get along. What my parents don't know is that I skip pretty much the whole afternoon to get some sleep or scout for the next hunt. Sometimes Nadia will show up, but she usually sleeps. Then we go hunting at night.

See, we're not vampires, but we're not humans either. We're call ourselves hunters. There are some tribes that are made of families and travel the world hunting covens and packs. It's like the food pyramid. Humans usually think they're on top, but they're not. Vampire's are on top of them, as well as werewolves, and then there's us. We share the level above humans with the drinkers and dogs.

There are also rumors that there are dog-hunters. I've never seen one, much less met one, that doesn't mean a whole lot. I didn't know anything was different about me, or that my perception of the world was skewed until I turned 13.





I was walking home from school, after a bad day, and it was my birthday. I had always been paranoid, but today, after the teacher snuck up on me, I totally flipped. He almost lost an ear. I almost got detention. One advantage between a large or small school: the larger the school, the less the higher authorities cares. A slap on the hand was a common occurence.

It was my usual route, and everybody had a routine. About 3 blocks from the school, I would be passed by 4 buses heading out on different routes. Two blocks later, there would be a blue pick-up truck that was waiting at the intersection. Everything was like this--synchronized to a T. So, you can imagine my surprise to a black Sedan that followed me.

It didn't have plates, but I just figured it was a new student, and their family, trying to find their way home. Except they kept following me. For blocks, all the way to my street--Crystal Avenue. Then I knew something was wrong.

Nobody followed me home. There was a bicycler that was on the other side of the road for a block or two, but nobody followed me the whole way. So, I freaked out a little bit. I started running. As I took a panicked glance over my shoulder, I could see the door opening, and a young girl getting out. I slowed down, stopped. I turned around. She looked familiar.

I could see that she was pleased I had stopped. She ran up to me. "Hey, kid." I could feel my blood rise to my cheeks in a blush, mirroring the rosiness on the girl's face. "You should really come with me," she blurted. I opened my mouth to protest, and she cut in. "I know, don't go with strangers, but right now, you are changing into something different. Something not human, like me. I can help you."

"Is this why I've been paranoid?" This would explain everything--the jumpiness, the heightened sense of hearing, the strength and speed. She smiled and nodded. I followed her back to the Sedan. She stopped suddenly, and I almost bumped into her.

"You know, you don't have to come. If you want to stop, I can give you a potion, and it will stop the change." I could see how she wished that I would still want to come. She shuffled her feet, holding her wrist with her hand, her eyes flickering between my face, and the ground and her hands.

"I'll come."





Tonight is pretty mellow at my house. No major arguments. Just the usual spats about my stuff. They know that I am a big Renaissance weapon geek, but they threw a fit when they found out that I started buying some actual stuff. It's actually necessary for my gig. I have to have a something, since my body only gives me the minimum advantage. And, yes I do use a wooden stake. If I want the stupid thing laying under my bed, paralyzed, for the next 5 years. I use a stake at first, then shred 'em, and burn the pieces.

About 9 o'clock, I go to my room. I checked my gear, and pulled out a trunk from under my bed. It holds my armor. And, yes, it is cliche black. But, if it helps, then why not? Plus, it was the only available color. I suited up, the leather smooth and hot against my skin. I paced. I couldn't leave until 10 o'clock, when my parents went to bed. They would be able to see me if I jumped out my window. I hate waiting.

The only advantage to the wait is that I can get the feel of my armor before I had to run. It takes a minute or two to get used to the way it creaks, and to remember how I would have to move to remain silent. It becomes like a second skin. It also has some secret pockets for small stuff--smoke bombs, distraction stuff like that.

The time starts to speed by, and by 10 o'clock I am ready to go. I walk to the window, and go through the familiar motions of opening it silently. Open 1 inch, quickly press on alarm wire, open window rest of the way, place pencil on wire, step onto sill, and jump.

Outside, the air slides over my skin. I breathe deeply of the cool comfort--I am in my element. I slide silently along the wall of my house, ducking under windows, blending into the shadows. I am invisible. As I reach the fence, I jump. When I hit the top, I tuck and roll. A somersault.

I break into a jog. Loping through the forest, I breath deep, allowing my senses to extend their reach. I heard the deer in the clearing 50 feet to my left. I smell the stream that they drink at, hear its rush and tumble over the rocks that litter the bottom. I slow my movement, gradually coming to a halt. I turn my head to watch. They have been here for about a week. One night, when Nadia wasn't coming, I followed their path. They go in a big circle, and come back to this little stream around ten o'clock every night. If they are here, I know I'm not late. If they aren't, well...Nadia will not be pleased.

The rest of my run is short, my mind blank. I am pleased--I can be alone with my thoughts, and it isn't a problem. My parents think a blank stare is a sign of rebellious reflection. Those are the nights that I spend in my room. My thoughts wander back to my first day with Nadia.





The warmth of the car floods out as I open the door and climb in. I clamber over bags into the middle seat as the new person in my life I now know as Nadia slids smoothly onto the passenger seat. "Don't worry. The first thing you learn is history. The second is to explain your absence to parents," she throws over her shoulder.

The car pulls smoothly out of it's space, and we drive down the street. I scoot to the middle, and watch, wide-eyed and silent. The driver is another girl. She holds herself with a sureness similar to Nadia. She glances in the rear view mirror and smiles. "You'll do alright, kid."

As we reach the edge of the street, the car pulls into another parking space. Nadia turns around, very serious. "Ok, kid. Last chance. You want out, we drive you back to your house, and you take the potion. You come with us from here, there's no going back." She is very serious, still hopeful, but it doesn't show. "You will not be accepted. You will be different. You may feel stranded, alone. But you will have us, and anyone else like us." She grins. "Our secret world."

The driver cuts in here. "Basically, what Nadia is dragging out is, us or them. We will take care of you, but you have to trust us completely. Comprende?" I look at her, confused by her use of Spanish. She certainly doesn't look the part. Her blond hair and green eyes suggest European ancestry, but she has a dark tan. Maybe...vacation?

My thoughts return to the current situation. "I wouldn't have got in the car if you hadn't sounded intriguing. Do I look like a person to bail on you?" A thought buzzes through and I grin. "Besides, who wouldn't want this?"

Nadia smiles ruefully. "There are some who would rather have the acceptance of the majority," she says gently. She gets out of the car, and the driver and I follow. The driver pops around to my side, and we follow Nadia, who is already striding off into the woods.

"I'm Bellona, by the way." I smile as we shake hands. "Don't worry. We'll get you home before to long, In fact, if we go very far this direction, we'll hit your back yard." I frown thoughtfully. How would they know were my house is? They must have been watching me. Best not to be to straightforward...

The walk through the forest is quick. "I'm Treya. Please call me Trey." A smile, and my fears are gone in an instant, washed away by the honesty and simplicity Bellona and Nadia have offered me. I notice the way her silent stride seems natural, the ease with which she moves. She now has a sense of danger about her. A huntress.

"Bells." She smiles in return. "I think we'll be good together."





Bellona. Goddess of war. One of the most kind, strong, beautiful, frightening women I have ever known. She was killed in a brawl. The one she thought she could take. If Nadia or I had been there, maybe...But the past is behind us. The future and the present are what matter. At least, to the living.

My legs pedal to a stop. I am here. Our secret place. The sanctuary, the fighting rink, the gathering place. The Clearing. We always meet here. It's the one place we guard with the utmost secrecy. It is ours, and ours alone. Nobody has ever found us here. To a vampire, the place will reek of our smell, but to Nadia and I it is a beacon of hope. You are home, it says.

I don't see Nadia, so I climb my tree. I keep an emergency pack here--some cheap, tasteless canned food, a couple changes of clothes, an extra set of black Underarmour, and my throwing knives. I keep my second best set in my backpack. I also have a pair of sai at the house. A very nice weapon, made of hand carved mahogany, and it has a pretty strengthening finish. Nice and tough, perfectly balanced. I had to get a P.O. box to get those. The 'rentals have no knowledge of them.

I crawl up further, and look around. The sun is long down, and it is dark out. The stars are brilliant to my inhuman eyes, covering the dark sky with light. The North Star is off to my left, holding its steady course. To the west, there is a thin rim of green. Nautical twilight. It means the horizon is still useful for navigation.

I look for signs of Nadia's coming. I whistle, sharp and clear in the night air. The return is quick in the coming--three shrill blasts. She is coming, close, and in a hurry.

I walk out carefully on the limb, and when I am out far enough that there aren't many branches, I use the slender end of the branch as a springboard, and throw myself into the air. Twisting and tumbling, I fall to the ground, landing with a soft thud. I turn around, and slink to the shadows, stepping lightly across the grass. It is a game that we play. Last one here has to find the other one.