Like Ghost in Snow: Chapter Two

Locke Manor was a lovely piece of history in the monotony of twenty-first century architecture, which mostly consisted of plain squares and rectangles. It was situated in the midst of a wood of oak trees that stretched their limbs up to the heavens, concealing the gigantic Victorian mansion amidst their branches. There was one way to get to the manor, and there were only a select few who were enlightened about that one way: the Manor's residents, of course.1

I, Lenore Venustas, was perfectly aware of that one route, and was driving it much faster than any human would dare. Why? Because I was smarter, faster, and more resilient than any human in the world. And, after centuries of saving, I could afford to replace this car (a simple Honda, for I didn't like unnecessary attention, which I had informed someone of earlier that evening) a thousandfold. Perhaps two thousand.2

It was a pity the human had actually forced me to address him when I was already in such an unpleasant state of mind: the blood of the sexually-starved homeless gentleman I had drained the night before was almost completely out of my system. And being hungry never put me in a very pleasant mood.3

I parked the car in the massive structure we called a garage (strictly pronounced gahr-udge, for Master Locke was British and requested that we pronounced certain words a certain way for his own comfort) and made my way inside through the tunnel Randall, the handyman, had built so that we could safely go into the garage when the sun was out: turning to ash was a bit of a harsh punishment for leaving a cell phone in your car and going to retrieve it.4

The house was filled with people, as usual. Vampires tended to flock together in the night to drink and 'make merry,' if you understand my drift. We had always been a breed of incontinent creatures, that could not be denied.5

I was greeted at the door by Harry, the butler, and he took my coat, calling me 'Miss Lenore' as he had since I had come to the mansion, despite my insistance that he drop the formalities. Of course, Gabriel, my twin brother, was already charging toward me, and I could read in his mind that he was going to ask me about the boy I had threatened in class. Since Gabriel and I were twins, we could speak telepathically, read each other's minds, and sense what the other is doing. Handy at times, but bloody annoying at others.6

"Lenore, what were you thinking?" he asked, his deep voice a low rumble as he spoke confidentially, even though I was positive that at least 98% of the room could hear us: the other two percent were the hired help, who were trained to be deaf when these matters were brought up.7

"I couldn't let him keep staring at me: that fool Dunnigan told me that I should pose for a drawing for him! Can you believe that! That I would pose for a cartoonist!"8

I had always hated cartoons: they took away the integrity of the art by commercializing it. It was the same with art galleries.9

"Yes," Gabriel growled, "but by attacking someone--"10

"Ah ah, dear brother, I did not attack him. I merely roughed him up a smidgen," I said, trying to be charming. It worked, of course, and he sighed.11

"I just want you to be careful," he said as we glided to the calm of the second floor, then to the silence of the third.12

"I know, but your worrying is wasted on me: you know that I take care of myself."13

He smiled, creating a dimple in his right cheek. "Yes. That's what worries me."14

Gabriel was handsome, if I can say that without seeming concieted. He had the same red hair as me, but his was cut short and seemed to stick out at all angles in a very pleasant way. He had blue eyes as well, but his were the color of sapphires, while mine were lighter, more silver-blue or crystal blue. He was tall, standing at 6'5, with an athletic build, and generally wore white Oxford shirts with dark slacks and a belt. He was also the nicer of the two of us, the "good twin," as I liked to refer to him as. He was sweet and thoughtful and pitied humans for being so unintelligent, while I was cold and careless and didn't give two shits about humans: they were for food and blending in only.15

Needless to say, I had a soft spot in my hard heart for my beloved twin.16

"I need some sustainance," I told him, and he looked at me sideways.17

"Ah," he said after a moment, "so that's why you clawed that human."18

"He was getting on my nerves," I said, and he smiled.19

"Easy to do, might I observe."20

"Oh shut it, Gabe," I said, though smiled at him.21

He smiled back charmingly. "I'll go get you something to drink."22

And with that, he was gone, back down the stairs, but I could feel him: his ease, his calmness, his positive energy.23

The boy was too good of an influence on me.