Page 1 of Volik

Part One

The Forming

Chapter 1

Volik

My shoes connect with the sidewalk harder than I intend, scattering yellow leaves around my feet.

Considering my mood, I am glad the cement did not crack.

Taking a moment, I fill my lungs with the scent of the town.

The air is… the same.

The damp chill of morning mist. The decaying foliage. The clinging aroma of the people who inhabit this street on the outskirts of town.

It is all the same.

Frustration rakes down my spine because the scents are lying.

Something is not the same.

I lift my hand and run my fingers through my hair, acting like I am simply smoothing it back, but I press the side of my palm against the base of one of my horns.

I am tempted to lift my other hand so I can grip both horns, where they connect with my skull, and pull.

It would make me look insane to anyone who might be looking out a window, but tugging on the damned things is the only remedy that helps this intolerable headache.

Yet another thing that is not right.

Vampires do not get headaches.

Our bodies regenerate too fast. Everything heals itself. But this⁠—

I clench my hand into a fist and force it down to my side as I press my tongue against the roof of my mouth, seeking relief there too, because my jaw also aches.

I have a vague memory, from centuries ago, of feeling a similar sort of pain in my mouth. And my mother telling me it was my body readying itself for my fangs to descend.

But my fangs are still right where they should be. And my mouth cannot fit any more teeth, so I do not know what in the gods is going on.

Annoyance growing, I start forward down the empty sidewalk.

For the sake of everyone, I should just turn around and jump right back home.

It is not a good idea to be around people. Not when I am feeling like this. But I have paced my house for the last half of the weekend, and I have to get out.

Maybe going somewhere else, somewhere new, would be smart. I could visit an unknown place as a distraction. But every time I even think about fleeing to another location, my mind insists I need to be here.

Reaching the end of the block, I take the left turn toward campus.

I make it four strides when a rustle sounds in the bush ahead of me, and a scraggly-looking squirrel jumps out, landing on the sidewalk.

I stop.

It stares at me.

I stare back.