When the Lights Went Out #1

Chapter One

Transpire [trans-pey-er]: To travel from the monster realm to the human realm or vice versa. Only one vampire in a given bloodline has the green eye, called a Transpeyere, which grants this ability.

The only reason anyone cared to show up for a remedial writing class at eight o’clock in the morning was for Professor Singh, who was young enough to be the girlfriend of even her college freshmen. She pranced at the front of the dingy room in a bright red sleeveless cocktail dress that hugged her slim waist and wide hips. The neckline scooped low enough for any nightclub bouncer to let her skip the line. Gold-glittered high heels added three inches to her otherwise average height.

Coyote barely noticed her.

Rain banged against the building’s metal roof as he rested his cheek on his palm. The room’s bright fluorescent lights fought a war with the darkness cast by heavy storm clouds outside the windows. His binder was open on his grimy desk, a blank sheet of lined paper staring up at him as he tapped his eraser against it in time with the rain.

His phone buzzed in his bookbag at his feet. He didn’t have to check the notification to know it was a text from his mother, likely asking if he’d be home for dinner. No, he certainly wouldn’t be.

After a moment, Coyote flipped the pencil around and started a doodle. Though the drawing was crude, it was an image he often attempted to sketch. Today, his heart wasn’t in it, so the man’s long hair turned into quite the mess and his chiseled jawline was no more than a block. Coyote could only wish his dream man was their professor instead of Singh.

Someone elbowed him in the ribs, and he looked up as his sort-of friend Henry slid into the rickety chair next to him. A thesaurus thudded to the tabletop. “Man, I just can’t get enough of that fine chick,” Henry said. He patted the cover of the book he undoubtedly had asked her to get for him.

Coyote grunted something noncommittal under his breath. He narrowed his gaze at the sketch, wishing persuasive words about any topic would come to his mind instead. Ha, maybe he could persuade Henry to stop leering at their professor. She either didn’t care for the attention her students gave her or didn’t notice. Coyote liked to think she just didn’t care. It was so much easier not to care. The only reason he bothered to show up to his early class was so he could not care about other things.

“Hey man, are you actually working on your paper?” Henry elbowed him again. “Think of all the eye candy you’re missing out on, huh?”

Frowning, Coyote stood. “I’m going to get a resource.”

Henry chuckled. “That’s more like it!”

Coyote set a brisk pace to the front of the room as lightning flashed outside. Henry was his friend only insofar as they were in this class together. He wasn’t the kind of person Coyote wanted to spend time with.

“Oh, Mister Edmunds, can I help you with something?” Singh’s full red lips puckered like she’d eaten something sour.

Thunder rumbled, the resounding boom much closer than it had been earlier that morning. At least it drowned out the general sense of despair clogging the classroom.

“I was looking for a resource to help with my paper.” Coyote sounded lame even to himself.

Singh bent over the aged bookcase that lined the front of the room under the whiteboard. “Let’s see what we have.” She shifted a few options around.

“Just something for ideas would be nice.”

Thunder roared. The fluorescent lights flickered once, twice.

Singh continued to root around the shelves. “There’s a reference here for popular persuasive topics somewhere.”

Sighing, Coyote yanked out the nearest volume. “This’ll do.” He stared down at the blue and red striped cover, noting dryly that it was a dictionary.

The professor straightened from the shelf. “Oh! Well, do let me know if you want me to locate the other book.”

Coyote shrugged. Thunder roared overhead, loud enough to shake the building. The lights flickered once more before going out completely. Wind wailed against the glass, and Coyote’s classmates cheered. No power meant no class. Maybe the college would be closed all day and they’d have to go home. He’d rather stay in the pitch-dark classroom, lit up only by rapid-fire lightning than go home.

It was entirely too easy to blame his mother, so he didn’t.

Singh shouted something beside him, but the storm raged too frightfully loud for the words to be heard. The college didn’t have a backup generator, so the darkness persisted.

An icy hand brushed Coyote’s bicep. Arms seized around his torso. A squeak caught in his throat as the ground dropped out below him and he lost all sensation.