Free Rancor: Vampyre Hunter (Rancor Chronicles) by James McCann Page A

wondering in what strange adventure she had found herself.
     
    “ALIX!” Betty shouted, snapping Alix back from her dream.
    Alix was no longer a woman in sackcloth, no longer in a cabin, and no longer serving a hooded stranger.
    “Kick his butt!” Betty shouted to Carl, who was standing before Derrick. Then she muttered furiously to Alix, “What’s wrong with you?”
    “Nothing.” But Alix knew there was something.
    Alix rubbed the bottom of her nose and stared at Betty, wondering if she really did want to become like her. Were popularity, attention from boys, and a party-filled-last-year-of-high-school worth sacrificing her morals?
    Shaking off those thoughts, she turned her attention to the ensuing battle, feeling a sense of déjà vu. She was still unsure whether she would help Kim or not.
    Kim stormed into the alcove, struggling to get near her brother. Alix stayed where she was.
    Carl pushed Derrick and said, “Ready to have your other hand broken?”
    “You’re dead!”
    “Wagon burner!”
    “Enough!” Kim’s voice cast everyone into silence. Derrick faced his sister.
    “Kim, go home or stay silent, but don’t embarrass me.”
    Carl laughed. “I always knew you needed a woman to do your fighting.”
    Everyone started laughing. Kim refused to move. She said to her brother, “You going to hit me, too?”
    Derrick glared hard at his sister. “You’re a disgrace.”
    “Derrick!” Kim shouted after him, as he stormed out of the alcove. She looked at Alix, frowned, and said, “You Barbie dolls are all the same,” before she chased after him.
    Carl was about to say something to the crowd when he heard, “Sir, if you might excuse me, I’d like to get to my locker.”
    There was another new kid. This one was tall, thin, and had no sign of muscle. His short blond hair and brown eyes made him look peaceful. Sporting a mahogany pinstriped suit, he had an aura of timidity.
    Carl held his ground and gave the new kid a shove against the lockers. The newcomer let his backpack drop to the ground, and at first Carl thought he wanted to fight.
    “Perhaps I should introduce myself. How rude of me. I am Shay Jackson. Now, if you will pardon me. Please,” said the stranger, baring his bright teeth in a smile.
    Carl almost laughed. Puffing out his broad chest to dwarf him with his bulk he again pushed the stranger. “Sorry, pal. This here is Dead Man’s Alcove. Nobody uses these lockers.”
    “How odd. I pray you will tell me then, if they are not to be used, why have them?”
    “For fighting.” Carl tensed his muscles and puffed himself out.
    If nothing else in the jock’s attitude gave provocation to fight, then the look on his face should have been enough in itself. And it was. Shay lashed out, grabbed Carl by the throat and lifted him off the ground. The crowd stepped back, shocked at the ease with which the stranger had lifted their prized football star.
    “Do you wish to fight me?” Shay asked with a cool serpent’s breath, yet never losing his hint of charm.
    This guy’s grip was like iron and Carl wished the whole school wasn’t watching. Gasping desperately for air, he tried to say “No,” before his eyes lolled into the back of his head. But no sound came from his constricted throat. He managed to only mouth the word.
    When the stranger appeared satisfied with his submission, he released him, letting the jock fall hard onto the floor. Stepping aside to allow Simon enough space to pick him up and get him to the school nurse, Shay bowed.
    As if they were mice scampering lost in a maze, the students went on about their usual duties, no one staying to question, nor even welcome, this new stranger. Betty grabbed Alix and stopped her from following the crowd.
    “Let’s welcome the new guy.”
    Alix smirked. “I don’t think so.”
    “Oh, sure. Yesterday, you’re ‘Miss Welcome Wagon,’ but today you’re a prude!”
    “Am not! He just spooks me.”
    “And Rellik spooked me .”
    When the