Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side (38 page)

"I was born to
rule
that world. You know it! You taught me that!"

But Lucius laughed at me, releasing my hair. "Indeed? You can barely utter the words, let alone take the throne."

"You're just hurt, Lucius," I pleaded. "Don't throw away your"—
Life? Undeath?
—"existence over a fight with your uncle."

"Get out." He bared his teeth like an animal, breathing heavily, and I saw his fangs.

But I wasn't afraid. My own teeth ached. My throat felt parched, too. "No."

"Don't push me," Lucius snarled, grabbing my shoulders. "You have no idea what I'm capable of. Didn't you see what they did to me? That blood is in me."

"You won't hurt me." Wrenching free, I raked the room with my gaze, searching for something. How could I prove that I was the one not just to save him, but to seal our destiny? And then I saw it. The cup. The cup from Orange Julius that I knew would have warm, crimson liquid inside. It was on his night-stand, and I darted for it, knowing that he was quicker than me. But I had the element of surprise on my side, and I snatched it up, tearing off the lid, half disgusted, half mad with craving.

"Jessica, don't," Lucius yelled, lunging for me.

I sidestepped and tipped the cup to my lips, pouring the thick, slippery, clotted blood into my mouth. It slid over my tongue, down my throat, and I poured so fast that it drenched my chin and my neck and seeped across my shirt. It was sticky and salty and sweet and tasted like life, on the brink of death. I drank it all, overcome by the taste, the smell. . . the pungent smell, now inside me, filling me, satisfying me.

Lucius stood transfixed as I finished, dragging my arm across my mouth. He said nothing as I shoved the cup against his chest, forcing him to accept it.

"There," I growled, feeling more powerful than I'd ever felt in my life. Powerful and sated and half sick. "Don't ever tell me that I'm not ready to rule."

Still, Lucius didn't say a word. He just stood, still and rigid as a corpse, clutching the bloodied cup against his chest. I marched past him and made it down the stairs and out the door before I started shaking. I stood in the small circle of light at the entrance to the garage, letting the cold wind calm me. My shirt was sodden, but the blood, in the frozen winter air, was already clotting, freezing, hardening into scarlet ice. I wiped my chin again with a sticky arm. I wanted to throw up—and drink again. So I just waited a moment, trying to calm down, to figure out what to do. What if my parents saw me covered in blood?

I glanced toward the house. And that's when I saw Faith Crosse, standing about five feet away from me, staring.

"I was just coming back ... I forgot my cell phone," she stammered, clutching her red purse to her chest, so we looked a little like mirror images. Except her torso was covered by red leather, and mine was covered in gore. Her blue eyes were huge. "What. . . what the hell happened to you?"

I started to say something—anything—but I couldn't think of a single lie. As if a lie could explain why my face and throat and chest were covered with coagulating blood.

It didn't matter. Faith turned on her heel and ran to her car. I was still standing there, shaking with the cold and with emotion, when the sound of her squealing tires disappeared into the night.

I knew that I had done something I could never undo. I had altered not just myself but the future. Something had been
set
in motion the instant I'd tilted that cup to my lips, and I was sharply aware that Lucius and I didn't have just angry old un-dead Elders to fear anymore. I had poured bloody grist into an American high school rumor mill—the only thing perhaps more dangerous than legions of warring vampires lusting for power.

Chapter 50

"JESS, WHAT HAPPENED to you in the apartment?" Mindy asked, clutching my arm, holding me back as I started up the stairs, headed for advanced chemistry. Her eyes were wide, imploring me to reassure her that everything was okay. "You can tell me. I'm your best friend."

"Nothing happened," I lied.

I wanted to tell Mindy everything. The whole crazy story. I was so tired of carrying the entire burden myself. But I couldn't. She would never believe it, and if she did, what would she think of me if I told her I drank blood? That I wanted to drink
more
blood? I resumed climbing the steps. "We're going to be late for class."

Mindy kept her hand on my arm, still holding me back. "I don't care about class. I just need to know what's up with you. There's a rumor going around that you had
blood
on your
mouth,
Jess. That you were coming out of Lucius's apartment, and you were covered in blood."

"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard," I said.
Lies piling upon lies.

Mindy slid her hand down my arm, grasping my hand, squeezing it. "Is it Lucius, Jess? Is he abusing you? You can tell me. We could get help!"

Oh, god. . . that's what she thinks. . . .
"No, Min. I swear. If that was it, I'd tell you. I promise. Lucius has never laid a hand on me."
Not in a way I didn't want. . . didn't long for. . . .
"It's not what you think."

She stared at me, and I realized Id said too much. "But it is
something,
Jess. You just admitted it."

"It's nothing," I insisted, trying to smile. "You're getting carried away."

Mindy released my hand abruptly, as if I'd betrayed her. Which I had. I'd lied to my best friend, and she knew it. "I don't believe you, Jess. And I can't believe you don't trust me." There was a catch in her voice as she said that, and she ran up the stairs, away from me.

I sank down in the empty stairwell, lonelier than I'd ever been in my life. I'd lost Lucius, and Jake, and now Mindy. Even my parents seemed almost like strangers living in a simpler world that I'd left behind. My only friend was an old vampire who loved cappuccino.

And, of course, I was gaining enemies.

"Well, well, well. The Packrat."

The vile voice came from above me. I glanced up and over my shoulder to see Frank Dormand and Ethan Strausser standing on the landing.

"Get lost," I said.

They stomped down the stairs, looming over me. "Whatcha doin,' freak?" Frank sneered, kicking my shin.

I stood, ready, almost eager to confront them. "What do you want?"

"We want to know what's going on in that garage at your parents' freak farm," Ethan said. I'd never noticed how literally thick his skull looked under his fuzzy, fair buzz cut.

"You two use the word 'freak' a lot," I noted. "You should check out a thesaurus. They have one in the library. You do know where the library is, right?"

"Ooh, the Packrat has a smart mouth today," Frank mocked me.

I tried to push past them, but they blocked my way.

"Not so fast," Frank said.

"Yeah," Ethan grunted. "We want to know what the freak—"

"Seriously, find a synonym."

"What the freak who lives at your house is doing to my girlfriend."

His
girlfriend? That was a laugh. "I think Faith has a new boyfriend. In case you haven't noticed."

Ethan scowled. His pinkish face was downright ugly when he got angry. "That guy ... he did something to Faith. He's not normal. He ... he, like, hypnotized her."

"I don't know what you're talking about. And don't be a sore loser. Didn't football teach you anything?"

Frank flicked my ear. "Don't talk to Ethan like that."

I gave Frank a warning shove. "I'll talk to him any way I want. And don't
you
ever touch
me
again."

"Or what? You'll sic your bodyguard on me?" Frank taunted. "Because I say bring it on."

"We know about him," Ethan added ominously.

"You don't know anything."

"We know about the blood on you," Frank said. "And we know about Vladescu. We checked him out on the Internet. That dude thinks he's a vampire."

It was the first time I'd heard anyone, outside of Lucius and my immediate family, use the V-word. My blood froze. "What?"

"A vampire," Ethan repeated.

"And you know about it," Frank added, twisting a finger into my shoulder.

"You two are crazy. Do you even hear yourselves?"

"There's a whole website about Luc's family—the ones in Romania," Ethan said.

Frank smirked. "And do you know what they do in Romania? To vampires?"

I swallowed thickly.
Yes, I know.

Frank made a motion like jamming a stake into his chest. "They've done it. For real. They've done it to old Luc's family.
His parents."

"We don't like weird people around here, either," Dormand added.

There was something really menacing in the way he said that. I forced myself to laugh. But my laugh sounded hollow and frightened. "You're both nuts."

"Oh, I don't think so—"

Frank was interrupted by the slam of a door above us, and the rapid clip-clop of shoes against steps. "There you are," Faith Crosse cried, throwing herself into Ethan's arms, nearly knocking me down the last few stairs.

She started sobbing, clutching Ethan. He held her loosely, confusion on his bland, dumb face. "What's wrong, babe?"

"He broke up with me," she wailed. "That freak—"

Okay, I was seriously buying them all thesauri for graduation.

"He dumped me." She pulled away, jabbing a finger at her chest. "Me! Faith Crosse!"

She suddenly realized I was there, and turned her wrath on me, stabbing the finger in my direction. "You . . . you two . . . you're both ..."

"Freaks?" I ventured.

"Yes! I hate you two." She turned back to Ethan, clutching him. "I don't know why I ever broke up with you. It's like he put me under a spell. But now it all seems so weird."

She started crying, clinging to Ethan. It seemed a little over the top to me, but Ethan was buying the act. He patted her back with his beefy hand.

"I just missed you so much." Faith sobbed. "Why did I ever go out with that guy?"

A part of me was hugely relieved. Lucius had sobered up. He had ditched Faith.
Maybe, just maybe, he's going to honor the pact. . . .

My exultation was short-lived. Loosening her grip on Ethan, Faith whipped back around to face me, eyes narrowed to slits, mouth twisted with rage. She stabbed that finger at me again, talking through gritted teeth and tears. "You tell your precious Lucius Vladescu that nobody—nobody—dumps Faith Crosse. He
will
be
sorry."