Read Online Star, Starland Vamp Series, Book 1 by Theresa Oliver - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Theresa Oliver
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his mesmerizing eyes to focus on my mission.
“What did you say when you came into class late this morning?” I asked Zac innocently as we walked. “About some guy cutting you off in the parking lot?” It bothered me ever since he said it. I wondered if there was more to it than that.
“Yeah,” Zac said, anger returning to his eyes. “The guy just came out of nowhere and cut right in front of my car, blocking me off. Then he sat there and stared at me. He finally drove off, but kept staring at me as he passed. Weird.”
I nodded, as my eyebrows pulled together. I should have known. Why didn’t I catch it before? This kid was already messing with my judgment. Focus, I told myself. “Did you recognize this guy?”
“No,” Zac said, shaking his head. “Never saw him before in my life. Come to think of it, he looked too old to be a student.”
He probably was. And if they were this close to finding Zac, then all hell would soon be breaking loose in this perfect little town when they found him. Quite literally. I had to find this guy. I’m sure he was still here somewhere on campus, looking for Zac.
“Zac,” I said, stopping to face him in the hall. “Why don’t you go to class and I’ll catch up.”
“Okay,” Zac said, clearly disappointed. This touched me. “Well, it was nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” I said with a smile, shifting my back pack. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“I’ll save you a seat,” Zac replied, his smile returning, and before I could say anything more, he darted down the hall toward his next class.
In the hallway, some students were scurrying to class, afraid of being late, while a few girls walked nonchalantly to class, gossiping loudly with their peers. I walked casually down the hall toward the front doors and looked around the lobby, making sure no teachers saw me walking out during school hours.
I stashed my back pack in the bushes in front of the school, and casually walked around the school parking lot, searching for anything out of the ordinary. And, like a neon sign, there was an old Monte Carlo, a boat actually, parked on the curb. It looked like it had seen better days. What a moron! At least he could have made an attempt to be less conspicuous. But the car was red tagged, and if it wasn’t moved soon, it would be towed.
Whoever it was didn’t plan on staying long.
I looked around and no one was watching, so I changed myself into a security guard for good measure, quivering and morphing until I looked convincing. I appeared to be in my forties, male, with a big gut, dressed in a blue security outfit with dark sun glasses, and a 9 mm handgun strapped on my belt. I got the body print from a security guard last year at a Rise Against concert. He made the mistake of grabbing me by the arm when I didn’t move fast enough to suit him. He thought I was a druggie, but I never touch the stuff.
He won’t be making that mistake again.
In the parking lot, I looked around outside and there was no one. Looking at the license plates of the car, I noticed they were New York City plates. Strange. Around here, no one would have New York City plates, especially not a local student or teacher. And the chances of it belonging to a visiting parent were slim.
Then Zac suddenly came to mind. If Zac came in contact with this moron, he’d be dead in a second. Unreasonable panic filled my chest. Still looking like the middle-aged security guard, I walked toward the school a bit fast for human speed.
My hand was almost on the front door when someone yelled across the parking lot. “Hey! You there! What’s going on?” The voice came from a very plump man of about sixty with solid grey hair and a name tag reading simply Bud White—security . “Who the hell are you?” Well, it looked like I wasn’t going to make another friend now.
“I’m Sam,” I responded in a deep baritone voice. When I copy someone’s appearance, their voice comes with it,
“What did you say when you came into class late this morning?” I asked Zac innocently as we walked. “About some guy cutting you off in the parking lot?” It bothered me ever since he said it. I wondered if there was more to it than that.
“Yeah,” Zac said, anger returning to his eyes. “The guy just came out of nowhere and cut right in front of my car, blocking me off. Then he sat there and stared at me. He finally drove off, but kept staring at me as he passed. Weird.”
I nodded, as my eyebrows pulled together. I should have known. Why didn’t I catch it before? This kid was already messing with my judgment. Focus, I told myself. “Did you recognize this guy?”
“No,” Zac said, shaking his head. “Never saw him before in my life. Come to think of it, he looked too old to be a student.”
He probably was. And if they were this close to finding Zac, then all hell would soon be breaking loose in this perfect little town when they found him. Quite literally. I had to find this guy. I’m sure he was still here somewhere on campus, looking for Zac.
“Zac,” I said, stopping to face him in the hall. “Why don’t you go to class and I’ll catch up.”
“Okay,” Zac said, clearly disappointed. This touched me. “Well, it was nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” I said with a smile, shifting my back pack. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“I’ll save you a seat,” Zac replied, his smile returning, and before I could say anything more, he darted down the hall toward his next class.
In the hallway, some students were scurrying to class, afraid of being late, while a few girls walked nonchalantly to class, gossiping loudly with their peers. I walked casually down the hall toward the front doors and looked around the lobby, making sure no teachers saw me walking out during school hours.
I stashed my back pack in the bushes in front of the school, and casually walked around the school parking lot, searching for anything out of the ordinary. And, like a neon sign, there was an old Monte Carlo, a boat actually, parked on the curb. It looked like it had seen better days. What a moron! At least he could have made an attempt to be less conspicuous. But the car was red tagged, and if it wasn’t moved soon, it would be towed.
Whoever it was didn’t plan on staying long.
I looked around and no one was watching, so I changed myself into a security guard for good measure, quivering and morphing until I looked convincing. I appeared to be in my forties, male, with a big gut, dressed in a blue security outfit with dark sun glasses, and a 9 mm handgun strapped on my belt. I got the body print from a security guard last year at a Rise Against concert. He made the mistake of grabbing me by the arm when I didn’t move fast enough to suit him. He thought I was a druggie, but I never touch the stuff.
He won’t be making that mistake again.
In the parking lot, I looked around outside and there was no one. Looking at the license plates of the car, I noticed they were New York City plates. Strange. Around here, no one would have New York City plates, especially not a local student or teacher. And the chances of it belonging to a visiting parent were slim.
Then Zac suddenly came to mind. If Zac came in contact with this moron, he’d be dead in a second. Unreasonable panic filled my chest. Still looking like the middle-aged security guard, I walked toward the school a bit fast for human speed.
My hand was almost on the front door when someone yelled across the parking lot. “Hey! You there! What’s going on?” The voice came from a very plump man of about sixty with solid grey hair and a name tag reading simply Bud White—security . “Who the hell are you?” Well, it looked like I wasn’t going to make another friend now.
“I’m Sam,” I responded in a deep baritone voice. When I copy someone’s appearance, their voice comes with it,
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