SHANNON ♦ WINTERS Sometimes he wished he could sleep. Being stuck in a permanent state of hyperactive consciousness and sensory overload could grow tiresome after a while. Sometimes Shannon loved it, and other times he wished he could take a break from the scents and the noises and the colours. Shannon could not remember what it was like to sleep, but he often envied the oblivious children he was surrounded by every day. This was one of those times. He walked through the halls of Witham Secondary College like Moses had walked through the Red Sea; people parted for him and his sister, Evangeline, who stood by his side. Shannon and Evangeline had differing opinions as to why people did this when they walked through the halls. Evangeline thought it was because they were both very attractive and the closest thing this small town had to models or celebrities. Shannon was less vain and thought that the humans had a natural instinct to shy away from predators. Also, Shannon had a reputation for tripping people who annoyed him too much. The Winters siblings reached their lockers, which were next to each other because the school organised its students lockers by alphabetical order. Shannon busied himself by extracting the textbooks he needed for the first two periods of the day while Evangeline blabbed on about some TV show he did not care about. Shannon often wondered how Evangeline so easily managed to adjust to modern life. Despite both of them being from the late nineteenth century, Evangeline had an iPhone, blogged and acted like a normal teenager. Shannon, on the other hand, barely knew how to use his flip phone and busied himself with actual, physical books. The only remotely modern thing he enjoyed was music. Evangeline froze and actually stopped talking, causing Shannon to frown and look down at her. "What's wrong?" he asked in a low voice, his smooth, regal accent sounding like something out of a turn-of-the-century movie. "Do you smell that?" Evangeline whispered, her eyes staring into space. "Smell what?" Shannon snapped impatiently. He inhaled deeply. He smelled linoleum and cheap paint, a sickening amount of Axe body spray and perfume ... and a deep, woodsy, musky scent that stood in stark comparison to the rich, meaty aroma of human blood. Shannon whirled around just as the werewolves walked past he and Evangeline. A boy and a girl. The boy looked sensible and kind of boring; the girl had violent pink hair and was startlingly pretty. They made eye contact; he knew what she was and she knew what he was. They were being showed around by the vice principal, his mother's second-in-command. Shannon watched them until they turned the corner. He turned to face Evangeline. "Well, shit."