Rancor: Vampyre Hunter (Rancor Chronicles) Read Online Free PDF Page A

took forever to bring up a response, which added to the frustration when it came up with nothing. She tried just “Rellik,” but even after the longest twenty seconds of her life it came up dry. Should she try just his surname? Alix sighed. She was ready to give up.
    Then, as the wind outside rattled the pane behind her, Alix absently tried “FAHLCHOO”. It came up with zero hits . . . except for the inquiry: “Did you mean FAOLCHÚ?” Clicking on the link, she waited almost sixty seconds for sixty thousand hits.
    “Useless,” she whispered, as she clicked on the third link down that brought her to an Irish mythology site. On the cover page she read:
    “Rancor, son of Faolchú, was kidnapped by the Alsandair, a nomadic tribe, after they slaughtered his clan of shapeshifters. He was raised with no knowledge of his heritage.
    “The Alsandair were famous for their war-like ways, and they believed that Rancor would breed his supernatural abilities into their race . . .”
    And blah, blah, blah, so it went. What kind of geek would write a website like this? Alix wondered.
    She looked about to make sure no one was around. When she was satisfied no one was close enough to peer over her shoulder, she brought up her journal. It wasn’t so much that she wanted to record her daily musings, but that her therapist thought it a good idea. Her journal was password protected and not open to the public–except to the therapist.
    Clicking on the icon for new entry , she began to type:
    “Weird day. Carl still hasn’t asked me out, but Betty keeps hinting he will soon. I think he’s waiting for the dance. I’m hoping he’s going to ask me to it.”
    Suddenly, that strange sensation came over her again, the same one that had encircled her outside of Mr. Pausron’s class when she was standing with Rellik.
    She typed:
    “My parents have both died from a terrible illness. The townsfolk took them away today, to burn their bodies so they don’t spread the disease. I fear it may be too late. My brother has started a terrible cough, and twice now he has woken with blood on his lips.”
    The school clock buzzed as the large hand struck twelve in the afternoon. But in Alix’s world the sound went unnoticed. She continued to write, until someone threw a book on the table next to her.
    “Hi, Alix.” It was Fred. “Working through lunch? Want me to leave you alone?”
    “No, don’t be silly. I’ll work on this later.” She scrambled to get it off the screen.
    “You sure?” He sat in a chair across the table from her. “Hey, that’s cool. Writing assignment for English class?”
    “Uh, no. I wasn’t working on school stuff.” Alix looked at him, smiling in the hope he’d just forget about it. And he would, just like always.
    That’s why Fred was so comfortable to be around: his predictability. He was still wearing last year’s outfit, which made her wonder if his closet was all just one set of shirts and pants like that Einstein guy. She knew Fred wasn’t at fault for wearing the same clothes, nor was he at fault for his matching grey slacks and black shoes that looked like two little mirrors. His parents controlled whatever he wore, all the way from his tie clip to the haircut that screamed future banker !
    Fred’s apparel was a major reason why she had never spoken to him before this past summer. Fred had his own unique charm she had to get used to, just like Mr. Chips’s burgers. But now that they were friends, Alix never let Fred’s freak status bother her.
    “So, why are you here, anyway? Don’t you ever eat?” she asked.
    “I can both study and eat. You, uh, hear about the fight?”
    “Yeah. I take it you heard.”
    “Hard not to. I heard the new guy beat up both Derrick and Carl.”
    “Why, Fred! Is that pleasure in your voice?”
    He blushed. “You know I abhor violence–but those two sure need an ego check.”
    “Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but only Derrick got his ego checked.”
    Fred