Sucks to Be Moi (Prelude) by Kimberly Pauley

 
    Sucks to Be Moi:
More All-True Confessions of Mina Hamilton Smith, Teen Vampire (Prelude)
     
    Published by Kimberly Pauley
    Copyright 2011 Kimberly Pauley
    Smashwords Edition
     
     
    Smashwords Edition, License Notes
    Thank you for downloading this free short story. You
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provided the book remains in its complete original form.
     
    If you enjoyed this story, please visit my website at www.kimberlypauley.com to learn more about the first two books in this series ( Sucks to
Be Me and Still Sucks to Be Me and this ongoing
serialized continuation: Sucks to Be Moi ). Thank you for
your support.
     
     
    Sucks to Be Moi Prelude
     
    Myth: Vampires keep to themselves.
    Truth: Hey, we’re as friendly as the next
fanged bloodsucker.
     
    I hate airports. Actually, I hate airport
security. I especially hate that point where you have to empty your
pockets of everything, step through some weird time-machine looking
contraption, and smile politely or risk being frisked by total
strangers. But mostly I hate the part where everyone takes off his
or her shoes.
    Having a vampire-ized supersniffer really,
really, really sucks sometimes.
    “Whew!” wheezes Uncle Mortie in my ear. “Do I
sense a touch of brie there? Or some Camembert?” He elbows me and
wiggles his eyebrows at a guy standing in front of us in purple and
blue argyle socks with a hole in the heel.
    “You’ve just got France on the brain,” I
whisper back a lot more quietly. It’s not like it’s the guy’s fault
we can smell his feet so clearly. “Besides, smells more like Fritos
to me.”
    “Oh, I don’t know. I think I detect a whiff
of something cheesy,” says George, bumping me with his hip. I grin
at him and tilt my head up for a quick kiss.
    “Yeah, the two of you,” says Uncle Mortie,
holding his nose. “Total cheese, as you would say, Mina.”
    “You’re just jealous,” I say, grinning at
him. There’s no way Uncle Mortie is going to spoil my day. After
all, I’m on the way to Paris, France, city of love—with my
boyfriend. Okay, and my family too and ye olde vampire
historian, Dr. Jonas, aka Dr. Musty. But I’ll take what I can
get.
    On a scale of one to ten, Paris was so
freaking far above Cartville, Louisiana (our last Vampire
Relocation Agency (VRA) selected location) that I couldn’t even
imagine a number high enough. Like a bazillionty times better.
Squared. Quadrupled.
    And I actually had dad’s crusty old boss to
thank.
    Dr. Jonas had been invited by the
International High Council to continue his research (or, more
likely, his hunt for John and Wayne Carter, the leaders of the evil
human-hating Black Talons) in France, since that was where the
Talons had their roots. Or John and Wayne did. Whatever. I didn’t
really care. I was going to Paris!
    “Miss, you can step through now,” says a
uniformed security guy. By the look on his face, it wasn’t the
first time he’d said it. Well, hey, it was Paris. A girl was
entitled to daydream a little, wasn’t she? I’d triple-checked our
tickets and everything. There was no way the VRA was going to mess
up my life this time.
    “Sorry,” I say, stepping through and almost
running into a girl with some slightly retro black framed glasses
and shoulder length brown hair in front of me. “I’m going to
Paris!”
    The guy doesn’t even crack a hint of a grin.
Obviously he’s taking the continuous orange security level thing a
little too seriously. He motions me forward and then waves for
Uncle Mortie to come through behind me.
    “You’re going to Paris too?” The girl smiles
at me. “Me too! I’m going to study abroad this semester!”
    I smile back. Take that, touchy security
dude. Some people understand the allure of Paris. “That sounds
awesome!”
    “Yeah, my friend Alexander is already there
with our host family. We’ve been planning this for years! I