Aurora Sky Vampire Hunter - By Nikki Jefford

Chapter 1 Life Ends On A Curse
I was outnumbered six to one... at least that's how it felt.

My supposed teammates stood by uselessly as the volleyball hurtled over the net and whopped me in the shoulder.

The beautiful Brooke Harris high fived the boy beside her before switching corners. It didn't matter if she served from the right or the left. The ball flew at me - again.

I ground my teeth together and tried to pelt the ball back, but launched it into the net instead. God, I sucked at team sports.

"Come on, Aurora!" Clayton Wilcox snapped beside me.

I grimaced. A junior the size of Napoleon shouldn't be speaking to a senior that way, but that was just my opinion.

One of my teammates bent down for the ball and tossed it back to Brooke, who smiled as though auditioning for a teeth whitening ad. Brooke served again, and the volleyball sailed over the net once more - toward me, of course.

Clayton's patience had apparently worn out. He stepped in and bumped into me, but managed to smack the ball back. Fine. Whatever. My teammates should get in the game.

Behind Brooke and her team of Olympians the bleacher crowd slouched against the benches like sloths while the rest of us got wrist burns. I'd tried everything from flu symptoms to a twisted ankle to get out of participating, but Mr. Mooney saw me as an active member of the student body, unlike the loafers who regularly got out of gym.

Fane Donado and Valerie Ward, the reigning king and queen of gym exemption, seemed to believe that making out substituted for physical ed.

Valerie was gorgeous, in a classical sixteenth century courtesan sort of way. Curves graced her hips and hair, which fell in thick waves of strawberry-brown down her back.

Fane had The Worst Hair: ink black and buzzed on the sides with a mass of blond on top. Combing it back was a big mistake. It drew further attention to his long forehead and wide set eyes. He had one of those disastrous looks that captured my attention - like Edward Scissorhands.

Every day Fane dressed in head to toe black and a long leather jacket which he wore at all times, like a second skin. Maybe he was packing...or dealing. Neither would surprise me.

I usually had a thing for tall, skinny guys, but I made exceptions, especially when the guy in question had trouble keeping his tongue inside his own mouth.

I wanted my first kiss to be a pleasant experience, not pornographic.

Mr. Mooney's whistle announced the end of gym at the same time Brooke slammed the ball over. This one hit me in the chest.


I know guys are sensitive between the legs, but a woman's breasts aren't exactly made out of sponge cake.

My classmates pattered across the gym floor toward the locker rooms. The bleacher crowd rose slowly and stretched their arms.

Yeah, try not to exert yourselves or anything.

I leaned down for the volleyball and walked it over to the roll out cart. As I nestled the ball into place, three more toppled off and rolled in opposite directions.

Groan. I spent enough time chasing balls around during gym, never mind running after them when I needed to change and book it to Algebra II.

By the time I retrieved each ball and set them on the cart, everyone had cleared out of the locker room, leaving hairspray fumes in their wake. Gag. My hair tumbled down my back as I freed it from its ponytail.

As I yanked the zipper up my jeans I heard a snicker and stopped. All was quiet and then I heard it again. Resisting the urge to call out a feeble "Hello?" I finished securing my pants then rounded a wall of lockers.

Valerie straddled Fane on the locker room bench in her corset top and black lace-up boots. Her arms circled his neck.

As she leaned back to look at me, Fane's face emerged.

I would not blush. Not in front of Fane Donado. Too late. My cheeks flamed rouge.

From this close up I could see that among Fane's aforementioned defects, his lips were mismatched; the top one smaller than the bottom.

Those lips curled back as Fane took note of my presence. I swear I heard him make a sound of disgust from deep within his throat, like I'd crashed a private party or barged into their hotel suite.

I stood staring like an idiot waiting to be dismissed.

When our eyes met, Fane smiled. Not a friendly 'hello' smile or the