Trifles of a Teenage Werevulture: Trilogy of a Teenage Werevulture, #2

Chapter 1: A Gigantic Needle

A re you sure about this? Kegan gulped, staring at the terrible weapon heading down towards my arm.  That’s a gigantic needle.

Don’t try to talk me out of it, I said, gritting my teeth.  Somebody has to do it, and I’m the only person who can.

And we thank you very much for it, the vampire nurse told me soothingly.

I flinched and tried not to look at the vial that was filling up with my blood.  It was hard to tear my eyes away from the sight, but I wished that I could.

If this had just been a Red Cross donation, I wouldn’t have done it.  I’d done that once, and the needle had freaked me out.  Never again, I’d decided, no matter how important it was to make sure draculas got enough to feed on during the full moon.  Other people could do it just as well as I could, so I could leave it to them.

But this was even more important than that.  This was something only I could do.  And people’s lives were at stake.  How could I not give it to them?

All done, the nurse said cheerfully, pulling out the needle.  Would you prefer vampire blood or band-aid?

Band-aid, I said immediately.  Vampire blood tasted disgusting.  Sure, it could heal almost any wound, but there was no way I was going to put myself through that for a little pinprick.

The nurse placed a cotton ball on my arm, strapped a band-aid around it, and helped me down from the chair.  Actually, it was more like she lifted me straight off the chair and effortlessly plopped me down on the floor.  Vampiric superstrength was really something.

Kegan must have been thinking the same thing, because as we left the room, she said, Sometimes I envy draculas.

Yeah, but they can only fly if they shift into bats, I said.  There’s usually not enough blood to go around for them to do that casually.

True, but I can’t fly, Kegan said.

In answer, I grinned and shifted into my half-form.  Gigantic brown wings sprouted out of my back, spreading behind me.

Show-off, she grumbled.

Do you mind? a woman’s voice said huffily from behind us.  You nearly got those things in my eye!

I turned around to see a cyclops woman waiting by the elevator that we’d just walked past.  Oh.  Sorry.

I’ll tell you what, Kegan whispered to me.  "I don’t envy cyclopes."

I giggled.

After my experience with Rarity Clan, not to mention becoming the only griffon werevulture in the country and quite possibly the world, I had a lot more sympathy for rare clans and people who chose to be weird things than I used to.  Still, I didn’t understand why anyone would choose to be a type of giant that had only one eye.  And no magical ability, either.  Cyclopes weren’t even rare!

We stepped out of the building and unchained our bicycles from the bike rack.  I would have liked to have flown, but I still only had a learner’s permit, and Kegan couldn’t fly at all.

Do you think it’ll work? Kegan asked, pocketing her bike lock.

I dunno, I said.  I hope so.  Otherwise I dealt with that gigantic needle for nothing.

I shuddered.

It should work, Kegan said confidently.  Vampire blood heals people, right?  And they said buzzard blood can make other people immune to taint.

Only other werebirds, I said.  Closely related ones, too.

Still.

"And it only works if they get a lot of buzzard blood, and it only works for a few seconds, and it can’t reverse taint."

Well, yeah, Kegan said.  Buzzards can’t cure taint.  Duh.

Well, neither can I, I said, rolling my bike out of the bike rack.  I can only fix turning stones.

That counts! she insisted.

I shook my head.  Honestly, I didn’t have that much hope that it would work.  Benedict Arnold had been tainted, and he hadn’t come back from it.  Since he’d presumably been full of werevulture blood, it didn’t seem likely that my blood would be able to cure anybody.

Still, you didn’t just not try something because you thought it wouldn’t work.  If it might save somebody, you had to try everything, even if it meant facing gigantic needles.

Wanna go to Mina Harker? Kegan asked hopefully.  That was her favorite shop at the mall.  They sold Gothic, spooky clothes in fashions aimed at vampires that Kegan liked to wear even though she was a banshee.

I shook my head, glad of the excuse.  Can’t.  I’ve got to untaint turning stones at the police station today.

Kegan groaned.  Seriously, it’s been two months.  How many are out there?

A lot, I said.  Apparently.

Rodrigo had made his way all across the country helping mermaids and infecting their turning stones, and most of the clans had not, as it turned out, turned them in to the police to be destroyed like they were supposed to.  Some of them had even tainted their turning stones on purpose and secretly paid other aswangs to help their children all turn properly the first time.

There are probably a lot of mermaid clans out there with tainted turning stones who won’t admit it, I had been told.  It’s hard to blame them, since they have the option to control their children’s turnings and not risk the turnings failing.  There’s even a push to legalize taint in three cities, now that the secret of what aswangs can do is out.

I had mixed feelings about that.  First of all — no more mermaid children ending up in orphanages because they couldn’t breathe underwater sure seemed like a good thing.  Yay!

But on the other hand, the thought of a wide network of pink turning stones everywhere seemed incredibly dangerous.  There was no cure for taint, and if you touched a pink turning stone without an aswang controlling it, you’d go crazy and die.

Okay, so you could just have aswangs control all the turnings.  Except then no one would be able to use their own turning stones without an aswang helping them.  Which seemed sorta like . . . blackmail?  Extortion?

Either way, I hadn’t forgotten what Rodrigo had said about having a boss, and neither had the police.  Every time I went over to the police station to untaint more stones people had sent in through the armored car, it was all they could talk about there.

Who was Rodrigo’s boss?  What was he really after?  Was he making a play to control the entire country behind the scenes?

If it turned out that my vulture blood could heal people who were tainted, that would make it way more likely that tainted turning stones would end up legal in some places.  But it also meant that if it was going to happen anyway, it would be way less dangerous.

All things considered, I didn’t want taint to be legalized.  The thought of some shadowy aswangs with unknown plans that were probably not best for everyone else controlling the country made me shudder.  But I had to hope my blood would work, even if it might lead to that future.

You know what you need? Kegan said.  You need more vultures.  Then you wouldn’t have to do all the untainting, and you wouldn’t be the only person donating blood, either.

You said it, I agreed.  After months of waiting, the paperwork had finally gone through to give me permanent possession of the turning stone, which meant I could start using it to turn humans into people.  Since I was sick of not having a clan, I couldn’t wait.

When are you going to start? Kegan asked.

I dunno, I shrugged.  I posted on Wereconnection yesterday.  I haven’t gotten any messages yet.

You’ll get some, Kegan said.  Werevultures are awesome.  Everybody’s going to want to be one.

Thanks, I grinned.

While I was thinking about it, I sent quick texts to two of my cousins who were fifteen and sixteen.  They were planning to be werehawks when they got turned, so this wouldn’t be all that different, right?

Then Kegan and I got on our bikes and rode together until we got to the point where we had to go opposite ways.

Chapter 2: No, You Can't

"B ut why can’t I?" my little sister complained, sounding close to whining.

Because you’re fourteen, Mom said.  Much too young for turning.

"But I want to be turned!  Lisette’s allowed to turn people!  I want to be the first one she turns!"

I did tell her she could join my clan, I said.

Collette, our older sister, helped herself to mouse casserole from the dish at the center of the table.  Kegan had informed me before that she thought eating mice was disgusting, but I thought the same thing about the asparagus pie her mother made.

Annette, Mom said, it’s not safe until you’re seventeen.

The difference in safety is almost completely negligible! Annette argued.  If I turn now, there’s a point eight percent chance higher that turning will fail.  If I wait until I’m seventeen, there’s a point seven percent chance higher that it’ll go wrong instead!

Better to have your turning go wrong than to fail outright, Mom said firmly.  If you end up human, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.

Besides, you’re forgetting the obvious, Collette said, scooping mouse meat and eggs and cheese onto her plate.  With an untested turning stone, there’s an eighty-seven percent chance of things going wrong.

I swallowed.  Was it really that high?  I’d known the chances of things going would be over sixty the first time I tried to turn somebody, but . . .

It is not over eighty percent, Annette said, glaring.  With somebody holding the turning stone, it gives me better-than-even odds of turning into what they are.

"Yeah, with a turning stone that’s properly programmed, Collette said.  We have no idea what clan Lisette’s turning stone used to be programmed for!  With only one werevulture to tell the turning what form to take, the chances of the stone reverting to its old programming are well over seventy percent.  Plus the sixteen percent chance of it going randomly wrong anyway with just one person telling it what form to give you!"

So what? Annette said hotly.  Somebody has to be the first, and I’m willing to take the risk!

"But I’m not willing to let you take the risk," Mom said sharply.

It’s not your decision! Annette shouted.  It’s Lisette’s!  She’s the leader of the clan!

Mom, Dad, Collette, and Annette all looked at me.

I wriggled uncomfortably.  I hadn’t realized the odds were that bad when I’d agreed to let Annette be the first one.  It wasn’t that I didn’t want her in my werevulture clan, but what if she turned into something random, like a . . . a . . . a cyclops instead?  I’d feel guilty for the rest of my life for doing that to my sister.  At least if it happened to a stranger, I wouldn’t have to look at them across the dinner table for the next few years.

Maybe we should wait until the odds are better, I said.  Once we have five werevultures, the chances of it going right will be over fifty percent, won’t they?

More like forty-seven, given that the stone won’t be completely reprogrammed to turn people to vultures, Collette said.  But yeah, that would be much better.

But someone has to take the risk at the start! Annette cried.  I want to do it!  Let me!

I looked at Mom.  I looked at Dad.  I looked at Annette.

Mom’s very worried face decided me.

Not until the odds are better, I said.

NGH! Annette let out an incoherent yell of frustration.

It’s not like it has to take that long, Annette, Collette said calmly.  There might very well be dozens of werevultures in a few weeks.  This will give you the best chance of being what you want to be.

"But I want to be the first one!"

Collette snorted.  Good luck with that.  Lisette is already the first one.  Best you could manage would be second.

Annette glared at her.

I caught Mom looking at me.  She mouthed thank you.

I thought about mouthing you’re welcome, but then I decided that if Annette saw me, she would be furious.  So I just nodded slightly and reached for the dish of mouse casserole to serve myself food.

When I looked over at Dad, he smiled and nodded at me.

I made the right decision, I told myself.  Let somebody else take the risk who’d be okay if it went wrong horribly.

After dinner, I got on the computer in the kitchen and checked my messages on Wereconnection.  Still nothing.

Sometimes these things take time, Mom told me, looking over my shoulder.  Don’t worry.  The interested people will come.

I sure hoped so.  I’d just told the only interested person so far that she had to wait until we had more.  If she was the only human who decided they wanted to be a vulture, I would remain alone.

I was so sick of being alone.

I think the problem is that nobody knows what your turning stone might turn them into if it goes wrong, Collette said.  They wouldn’t want to be . . . like, I don’t know . . .

A vampire pumpkin? I asked.

Yeah, something like that.

But I had a sinking feeling in my stomach.  It might be a lot more than that.  If somebody had asked me if I wanted to be a werevulture last year, would I have said yes?  No, I wouldn’t.  I’d have said no.  I’d wanted to be a member of the same clan as the rest of my family.  And speaking of which . . .

One of my cousins had texted me and said no.  The other one’s mother had texted me a long, angry message about trying to poach members of the werehawk clan and how I should be ashamed of myself for treating family that way.

I showed that text to Collette, my head drooping.

It’s Aunt Agony, Collette said, shrugging.  She’s always like that.  Ignore her.

Is she right, though? I asked anxiously.  Am I trying to poach people from their families’ clans?

If they decide they want to be part of your clan, that’s their decision, Collette said firmly.  Who cares if it’s poaching?

Maybe she was right.  I hoped she was right.  It wasn’t just me who needed more werevultures in Sky City, after all.  It was for the good of the whole city.  The whole country.  The whole world!

I had one message when I woke up, and I was super excited.  But it turned out to be spam.

I wanted to cry.

No takers so far? Kegan asked as we flipped through lacy black dresses on a circular rack at Mina Harker.

I nodded gloomily.

Maybe people just haven’t noticed yet, she said.  It’s only been four days.

Maybe no one’s ever going to notice, I said.  They must know the risks.  No one wants to take them!

Annette does.  Kegan pulled a dress off the rack and held it up to her body, posing in front of a mirror.  She went insubstantial, checking to see how the dress looked while she was in her ghostly pallor with the hollow black eyes.

I can’t start with Annette, I said.

Kegan turned substantial again so that she could talk.  You can.  She wants you to.  It doesn’t matter if the risks are bad.

I can’t, I said, because I said I wouldn’t.  Now it’s a question of keeping my word.

Kegan gave an exasperated sigh and draped the dress over her arm.  Come on.  You can just say you changed your mind.

But I didn’t change my mind, I said.  That would be lying.  I still want to wait until it’s safe to turn my sister.  If I turned her now, that wouldn’t be because I thought it was a better idea; it would only be because I was desperate.

So you’re desperate, Kegan shrugged.  So what?

So my sister deserves better than to have her turning go wrong because I was desperate.

I flipped through several dresses on the rack moodily.  There was a white shredded one with a dark crimson corset that was rather pretty.  It was not my style at all, but it was definitely Kegan’s.  I held it up for her to see.

Kegan didn’t seem to notice.  She looked lost in thought.  You know what you need?

A turning stone that’s programmed, and ten other werevultures to spend full moon with?

No, a vacation, Kegan said.  My dad’s planning to go to New Yeti City for a business trip next week.  Why don’t we ask if we can go with him?

I shrugged.  What difference would that make?

Hello? Kegan said.  "New Yeti City?  The only other place in the world that has werevultures?"

I gasped.  I forgot they have a werevulture clan there!

I’m always right, Kegan said smugly.

And if we go next week, we’ll be there during full moon! I squealed.  Even if they’re turkey vultures, I could spend the full moon with werevultures!  I won’t have to be alone!  I mean, they’re New World vultures, so they have a different power, or actually I think they have no power at all.  But still . . .!

See? Kegan said.  I told you that was what you needed.

Yes! I cried, jumping up and down.  "Yes, yes, yes!  We have to do that!