The Red Winter

Chapter One - P2

A/N Oooh hello aren't I good with an update the next day. Please tell me what you think in the comments and don't forget the all important VOTE, your guys support really helps me bring my story to more readers eyes. Enjoy!

"Myra!" I turned to my right trying to locate the sound but nobody was there, just luscious green fields all around me.

"Over here Myra!" I turned again still not seeing who was apparently stood there, my vision a blur.

"Myra Elizabeth, are you blind?" My vision suddenly cleared, a boy with tousled blond hair stood in front of me. He had a young handsome face and wore brown slacks, a clean white shirt, and a brown jacket, his name was Christian. The son of a rich mill owner in London, he was in Yorkshire for the summer of 1868, his parents' house conveniently next to mine.

"It's not correct for a lady to run around in muddy fields after a boy, especially when that boy is to be married when he goes back to the city," I said playfully, turning so my dark blue dress swished around my feet.

I gathered up my skirts and ran towards the woods; he was behind me as always. My hair fell out its clip and flew around me in the strong moor winds. We were just a boy and a girl. Neither of us allowed to love, I because of my immortal status and him because of his future marriage to a woman he didn't love. My laugh was loud, joyous and for them few precious seconds I was truly happy. If every day was like this maybe I could have learned to love my immortal existence and not just appreciate it.

Suddenly the heavens opened, a loud thunderclap sounded followed by the flash of lightening in the distance, I squealed loudly and ran for the cover of the ferns. Christian followed closely behind, a smile across his face. He took off his jacket and placed it over my head, keeping me dry. I placed my hands on it so he could let go and for several seconds we just stared at each other, my blue eyes met his green.

I awoke with a start, the memory felt so real and my stupid vampire memory meant I forgot nothing. Every word was exactly the same, his accent. The selfless way he let himself get soaked to the bone just so I, a person who felt no effect of the cold, would stay dry. Christian Crewe was selfless, honest and dead. I need to stop dwelling on the past because I know for certain one cannot change it.

My curtain was still open and outside the sky was dark and brooding, there were no stars, no moon casting its eerie glow, just clouds of misery grey. I checked my phone, four o'clock on the dot. Carefully trying not to wake Wesley as he softly snored next to me, I climbed out of bed and switched on the lamp, casting a soft ambient light over the spacious room.

My feet patted lightly on the wooden floor as I headed to the shower, ten minutes later and I was back out, not feeling the need to waste time on washing my hair when I didn't produce natural oils anyway. Not that I'd ever tell Nat that, she'd probably be horrified that I washed my hair every fortnight.

Standing in front of my mirror in denim shorts and a red halter, I pushed my ringlets out of my face, having my hair naturally curly was thought as a blessing in disguise when I was younger. Now however my loose cascading hair wasn't as in fashion but it was a part of me I would never change, Nat would just have to cope with not being allowed to cut it. Quickly I grabbed a jacket and my bag from the side, a part of me praised Nat while the other cursed her.

I wandered down the stairs my fingernails tapping against the rail, an odd habit of mine that father had often reprimanded me for. I wandered into the kitchen and Nat appeared to be working even at this hour; she had a laptop on the island and a spotted blue porcelain plate in front of her, those nimble fingers typing furiously with a piece of toast between her less than straight teeth.

I picked an apple out the fruit bowl; she didn't look up at me. It was often like this in the early mornings. In fact, come to think of it, it was constantly like this. I looked at the apple that I had no need for once more before throwing it back in the bowl, there was only one thing that I wanted now and that was blood... though caffeine might suffice the cravings for the time being. I sighed; no coffee to make coffee, the only human drink that actually does anything for a vampire.

For an hour, I sat idly on my mobile, occasionally helping Nat out. I wonder what my followers would think if they knew it was humans that ran their business. I'm sure ingenious delight wouldn't be among their expressions.

"I'm going, not sure when I'll be back. Text me any details that come up with Reagan but other than that don't irritate me."

Her perfect eyebrows rose, "Do everyone a favor and just feed already, you've been in a mood for too long."

"I'm...abstaining?" It was a statement, but it came out as a question.

She looked up from her laptop, "That's a thing?"

I shrugged in response, "It's a Myra thing."

I walked through to the garage; four cars were parked side by side. I looked longingly at my top of the range sports cars before my common sense kicked in and I had to get in the sensible four by four. At least I kept some dignity with it being classy and not going for some hot pink ancient convertible. I turned on the engine and the garage doors automatically opened; I left going in the direction I had gone yesterday whilst shopping.

The road was busier today with lots of other teen drivers, bad teen drivers might I add. Parent's turning around to check on small kids their eyes off the road or seniors looking too pissed for it to be legal. It was a strange town, some kids had fancy SUV's like mine and others were driving piles of rust though nobody seemed to care.

I mentally scolded myself; it was natural that they didn't care, not everyone was a bitch like me. I needed to fit in not act like a stuck up rich orphan, which was, by the way, the cover I was going for. Parents died in a fire, from England and previously homeschooled. I had also made myself a year older or else I wouldn't have been able to drive here and in some way's I wanted the year to be real.

I pulled into the car park and checked myself in the rear view mirror before deeming myself good to go, my rules surfaced in my brain.

1. No stealing other people's men.

2. No one night stands.

3. Friends are not food, even in the most serious of occasions.

Those were my three rules, I lived by them, worshipped them and they are what stops the summer of 1868 from repeating. I needed to go along with them; it doesn't matter if it means keeping my distance with hot sandy blonde Jax. These rules were what stopped me from falling apart. I inhaled a sharp intake of breath and looked in the mirror one last time; I've been in wars, I can handle high school.