Dead Girls Don't Cry by Casey Wyatt Page A

steady beat of his heart told me he wasn’t afraid of me. Normally, I don’t like to scare people, but this guy’s attitude irked me.
    With exaggerated movements, I peered around the Captain, juice pouch in hand. “Hmm. I don’t see anything.”
    “Ma’am, please leave.”
    “Sorry,” I smiled, with a hint of fang. Still no reaction. Not strange. He could be one of those types who discounted anything he saw and didn’t believe in. I showed full fang. “I don’t see anything.”
    “See what Ma’am?”
    “The pole up your ass.” A different possibility arose. He knew what I was.
    Small frown lines creased his forehead, “I’ll escort you out.” He reached for my arm and missed. He grabbed the juice pouch instead with enough force, that if it had been my arm, it would have hurt. The pouch exploded, raining juice over his jumpsuit and the reports on his desk.
    “Oops.” I skirted out of his way. “I can help you clean up.”
    The dark glare was answer enough. He didn’t like me. Or maybe it was my kind. But whatever the case, he had way more strength than was natural. He had either drank vampire blood recently or he was a thrall.
    I would have to keep a close eye on him. At the rate I was racking up bad feelings, I’d need a lot more eyeballs to watch my back.
     
    ~ * * * ~
     
    Space . . .the most boring frontier. What was I thinking when I agreed to this? Oh, yeah. Right. On Earth, there’s a horde of angry vampires out to kill me. Silly me. And I wasn’t given a choice.
    How could I forget those little details? I rolled over onto my side. The narrow cot that passed as a bed didn’t leave me much room to turn.
    I cursed Jonathan for the hundredth time. I must have been in the anger phase of the grieving process because I cursed him every chance I got. He had not upheld his end of the bargain – dumping the family bond on me and sticking with me a colony on Mars was not protection. It was sheer lunacy.
    Jonathan . . . a sob stopped short in my throat. Like bitter bile I bit it back, vowing no more tears. I’d cried for three solid days after I’d woken up. Jay confirmed I’d blubbered, half hysterical while I slept. More disturbing, he and Ian took turns watching over me while I recovered from the trauma of Jonathan’s loss.
    Unbidden, images of our years together washed over me. Many of the events I perceived as negative seemed different now. The night of my creation, when he had given me enough liquor to make me more pliable, I wanted him to –
    I slammed my palms against the metal sides of the bed. Memory cut off complete, I hopped off the bed and left my quarters for another aimless walk around the ship.
    Free time stunk. I didn’t want to be in touch with my thoughts and feelings. Most of them were of the useless variety, such as I hate the color gray . It’s such a wishy-washy color. So middle of the road, like it’s too lazy to be either black or white.
    Of all the colors in the universe, the ship had to be decked out in many shades of gray. Light gray walls in the Mess, dark gray for the hallways, giving them a gloomy Gus look. And silver gray in the ship’s quarters. Okay, I kind of liked the silver because it at least seemed cheery.
    My other major gripe about the ship was its coffin-like interior. No windows, no bright lights and a maze of endless corridors.
    The size and scale of the place was unidentifiable. For the first few days, Jay had shaken his head in amazement, muttering about the known Laws of Physics and other scientific gobbity-goop.
    If I were being honest, the fixation with the ship was my way of coping with Jonathan’s loss. Maybe my grief stricken eyes weren’t capable of seeing any color other than gray. There was a dull ache in my psyche. The place formerly occupied by my sire had hung out a big vacancy sign. I wondered if I was defective or if everyone in the family would feel it. I was guessing not, since my bond filled the space previously occupied by