Vampire Addiction (8 page)

“No, I guess I don’t.” She looked up at him. “Go ahead and ask your question.”

“But I didn’t finish answering yours.”

“That’s okay.”

He held her hand. His was cold and made her shiver.

“Why do your parents ignore you?” he asked.

She hadn’t expected tears to flood her eyes. She bit hard on her lip. “I suppose they’re busy.”

“Is that it?” He caressed her hand with his.

“They don’t have to be busy,” she said. “They have family money. They don’t need to work. If they wanted to spend time with me, they could.”

“So why don’t they?”

Because they don’t love me
, she thought. She couldn’t say it out loud.

“And why don’t they love you?” he asked.

Because I’m not what they wanted. Because I’m not lovable. Because I read too much. Because I’m boring. Because, because
, she broke down in tears.

He held her in his arms and said, “This is what I meant. You take it personally, but it’s not your fault. Maybe they don’t know how to be parents. Maybe no one showed them.”

She threw her arms around his neck and cried her eyes out. He held her close and let her cry. The wind blew through their hair, the lights twinkled from both the city and the sky, and the quiet night held them.

Chapter Twelve: The American School

Gertie awoke the next morning to Mamá’s voice calling through the bedroom door. She stretched and yawned. Then she bolted upright.

She couldn’t recall how she had gotten back to the apartment.

Swiftly, she stole from the room to the hall bathroom and studied her reflection in the mirror. No bites on her neck. None on her wrists. The last thing she could recall was crying on Jeno’s shoulder. Apparently he hadn’t bitten her. So why couldn’t she remember what had happened next?

Everyone in the house was excited about going to school. Gertie hadn’t realized before that morning that Klaus, Nikita, and Phoebe would be attending with her, and that they would be new students, too.

“Families that host international students get preferential treatment in admissions,” Klaus said at the breakfast table.

Nikita gave Klaus a dirty look.

“What?” he asked. “What did I say?”

Nikita turned to Gertie. “Mamá is hoping the new school will be better for Phoebe.”

Gertie’s mouth dropped open. She felt a little like the old man Jeno had mentioned—part of a mutually beneficial relationship. The Angelis family had
needed
Gertie. So much for wanting to educate a young, impressionable American about Greece.

She supposed she couldn’t blame Mamá and Babá for wanting the best for their children.

A car horn blasted from the street.

“That’s Hector,” Mamá said. “Better hurry, glyká ta paidiá mou.” She rushed around the table and gave each one of them a kiss on the cheek.

“Hector is driving us to school?” Gertie whispered to Nikita as they crossed the living area to the front door. “My mother said a bus would take me.”

“Come on,” she said.

This time, Klaus took the front seat beside Hector, and the three girls squeezed into the back. Hector said good morning to no one in particular. Gertie wondered if his greeting had been meant for her, too, or if he still wasn’t speaking to her.

When they arrived, everyone was directed to the theater for a school-wide assembly, but they were organized by grade, so Phoebe had to go up front with the third-graders, and Hector and Klaus to the back with the seniors. Nikita and Gertie were near the back, too, with the juniors. Gertie was glad to have Nikita there with her. She hadn’t expected such a large student body at an American school in Athens.

“You think Phoebe is okay by herself?” she whispered to Nikita.

Nikita frowned. “I’m praying for her.”

Gertie was surprised to see that the student body was internationally diverse, and, as the first speaker addressed the students and faculty, she came to realize that, even though this was an American school, it served students from countries all over the world.

“There’s a lot of people here,” Gertie whispered.

“That’s just because all three schools are combined, I think,” Nikita replied. “The classes aren’t that big.”

“I get why you and your brother and sister are starting here, but why Hector?” Gertie asked.

“Mamá and Babá talked him into it,” Nikita said. “He’s sort of our protector.”

“Protector?” This made no sense to Gertie.

“Don’t ask. It’s a long story.”

After the school-wide assembly, the elementary and middle grades were led out of the theater, with only the high school students left behind. Nikita had been right. There were less than two hundred high school students, and only about fifty juniors. Gertie sighed with relief.

Hector, Klaus, Nikita, and Gertie were then taken on a tour, with three other new students, led by two seniors, both tall and lanky—Dimos and Joy.

They were shown the main office, the library, the cafeteria, the gymnasium, the sports fields, and the band and orchestra halls. As they stopped for Dimos to point out the journalism room—he was the editor of the school newspaper—Gertie heard Hector’s voice softly behind her.

“So your mind could accept flying across the city with a vampire, but not across the sea with me?”

She gasped without looking back at him. Was he suggesting that they really had flown across the sea in the claws of a bird?

Saying nothing in reply (what could she say?), she followed the group back to the main office, where a counselor gave them each a schedule. Before the group parted ways, they all compared classes. Gertie’s schedule was

Beginning Photography

English III AP

Algebra II AP

Chemistry AP

Lunch

World History AP

PE

Journalism

Gertie was glad that she and Nikita shared most of their classes. The only periods they didn’t have together were first and last. Last period, Nikita, Klaus, and Hector had choir, while Gertie had journalism. First period, Nikita and Klaus had art. Gertie was caught off guard to see that Hector had photography with her.

Nikita hugged her goodbye and followed Klaus in the opposite direction, leaving Gertie and Hector alone. The silence between them was awkward as they walked side by side down the hall.

Finally, Hector said, “What made you choose photography?”

Gertie shrugged. “I guess I like being an observer. I’ve never taken any pictures, though—except with my phone. I hope I won’t suck at it.”

Hector grinned. “I highly doubt you would suck at anything.”

So he wasn’t angry with her. She met his smile with her own. “Why did
you
pick it?”

“I already know how to do everything else,” he said.

“Aren’t
you
modest?” she teased.

The class was in progress when the two entered. The teacher welcomed them and invited them to take a seat. They sat at a back table together near a window. After the lecture, the students filled out a paper assessing their experiences with photography. Hector and Gertie laughed as they both repeatedly checked “none.” Once the papers were handed back, the students were allowed to talk quietly among themselves.

“So how did you know about my flight with Jeno?” Gertie whispered, sure he would say Nikita or Klaus had told him all about her trouble in Omonoia Square.

His brows furled. “What do you mean? I was there last night. Don’t you remember?”

Gertie looked back at him in shock.

The bell rang. Gertie was glad. Maybe before the end of the day, she would recall what had happened.

Chapter Thirteen: Hector

Dimos walked with Gertie from her last period to the front of the elementary school building, where Nikita, Klaus, and Hector were already waiting. Hector wore Phoebe on his back like a backpack, her legs dangling from his waist. She was smiling.

Hector looked stinking adorable.

“Good first day?” Gertie asked Phoebe.

Phoebe buried her face in Hector’s back.

“I think it was,” Hector answered for her. “She seems in a good mood.” He bounced Phoebe and made her laugh.

It was the first time Gertie had ever heard Phoebe’s voice.

“What about you, Gertie?” Nikita asked. “Good day?”

Gertie nodded. So far, none of the other students seemed like jerks.

“And you guys?” Gertie asked.

“My day was sweet,” Klaus said, showing his dimples. “There’s a chick in my history class already crushing on me.”

Nikita punched his arm. “It’s all in your head.”

“I’m serious,” Klaus said. “No, I mean really. I can tell.”

“I believe you, man,” Hector said.

They all laughed.

“What about you?” Gertie asked Nikita.

“I thought I’d know more people. I really don’t know anyone.”

“It won’t take you long,” Klaus said. “You’re a social butterfly.”

“Race to the car!” Hector shouted as he took off for the parking lot with Phoebe in tow.

Nikita and Klaus scrambled after Hector, who was already way ahead of them. Gertie turned to Dimos and said goodbye, and then she ran for the Mini, too.

In the car, Hector turned on the radio, and he, Klaus, and Nikita sang out loud to whatever Greek song was playing. Gertie and Phoebe exchanged glances and snickered. It was nice having Hector back to his usual happy-go-lucky self.

Once Hector pulled the Mini Cooper up in front of their apartment building, Gertie sat forward in her seat and murmured, just at Hector’s ear, “We need to talk.”

He climbed out and opened the door for her. “Are you free tonight?”

She briefly wondered how disappointed Jeno would be if he called to her and she was with Hector.

“Early?” she asked. “It
is
a school night, after all.”

He arched a brow. “I’ll pick you up in an hour. We can have dinner. I’ll bring you back at nine. Sound good?”

Gertie nodded. “I’ll ask Mamá.”

Gertie changed into a simple straight dress that stopped a few inches above her knees. Her mother had once said that the blue brought out the blue in her eyes. Since she got few compliments from her mom, that one had stuck. She pulled her hair down from its ponytail and brushed it out. Then she added a little bit of powder and lip gloss, and she was ready to go.

Klaus whistled when she walked from the hallway bathroom into the living area.

“Hot date with Hector,” he said.

“It’s not a date.” Gertie glanced at Nikita, where she sat on the couch.

“Then why weren’t the rest of us invited?” Nikita asked.

Mamá shouted from the stove, where she was making supper, “Leave her alone, glyká ta paidiá mou. She’s entitled to spend time with other people, no? Don’t be so jealous.”

Gertie sat on the chair by the door, waiting awkwardly. She stared at the television, but the show was in Greek.

After a few minutes, the door opened. Gertie looked up expectantly, only to see Babá walking in from work. He patted everyone’s head, including Gertie’s, and asked about their first day of school. Klaus and Nikita both spoke at the same time. Babá lifted Phoebe in his arms, and when Klaus and Nikita had finished, Babá asked Phoebe, “And what about you, koreetsi mou? Did
you
have a good first day?”

Phoebe nodded, wearing a big smile. Babá hugged her neck. Gertie noticed tears in his eyes.

“So maybe this was a good idea, going to the American school, no?” Babá asked Mamá.

She nodded, too. “I think so, Babáki mou.”

Babá turned to Gertie. “And what did our little American think of the school? Was it as good as the one back home in New York City?”

“Better,” Gertie said. “I really liked it.”

Gertie couldn’t recall her own father asking her once how her day at school had been.

“We should celebrate!” Babá said. “I’ll bake a special cake, no?”

“Gertie has a date with Hector,” Klaus said.

“It’s not a date!” Gertie insisted.

“Ooo, lala,” Babá teased. “A date already. And you’ve only been here, what, six days, no?”

“Babá, it’s not a date,” Gertie said again.

“It’s not
Hector
she likes,” Nikita said. “It’s
Jeno
.”

Mamá dropped a plate in the kitchen, and it shattered on the tile floor.

Klaus and Babá rushed to help clean up. Gertie and Nikita glared at one another.

The doorbell rang, but no one moved to answer it. It rang a second time, so Nikita crossed the room and opened the door.

Hector looked and smelled amazing. Everyone greeted him. Gertie expected them to embarrass her by calling it a date, but no one did—not even Nikita.

“We are going to celebrate a good first day of school with a special cake,” Babá said to Hector from the kitchen. “Come back around 8:30 and celebrate with us, yes?”

“Thank you, Kyrios Angelis,” Hector said. “We’ll be here.”

Hector walked Gertie out to the Mini and drove her away from downtown Athens.

“Where are we going?” Gertie asked after a while.

“My house. Dinner is waiting for us.”

“So I’ll be meeting your mom?” A ripple of nerves moved down her back.

“I hope so. She said she’ll be home late from the hospital.”

“Hospital?”

“She’s a doctor.”

“Ah.”

They were quiet for a few minutes. Hector broke the silence by asking if she wanted to listen to some music. She said she’d rather talk.

“Okay,” he said.

“So…” she began.

“Yes?”

“I have so many questions about last night and about the night on the ferry.”

“I see.” He exited the highway.

“I’m so confused. The last thing I meant to do was offend you,” she added. “But what the heck happened? I dreamed of a bird.”

“That wasn’t a dream,” Hector said as he turned right into a very nice subdivision. “The crane was my father, Hephaestus.”

Gertie stopped breathing.

“So, you can believe in vampires but not in gods?” Hector asked, noticing the shock on her face.

He pulled into a long winding driveway of a beautiful two-story house.

“I’m just surprised, that’s all,” she finally said. “I’ve never met the son of a god before.”

“We’re all sons and daughters of gods,” he said. “Some are just many more generations removed than others.”

“It took me time to believe Jeno, too,” she said. “You have to understand how crazy this all sounds.”

“I know, especially to an American.”

“Over the past couple of days, I’ve been wondering if I’m lying in a hospital somewhere in a coma, dreaming all of these impossible things.”

“Not impossible.”

He parked the Mini in a detached garage. Then, together, they walked toward the house along the beautifully landscaped lawn. When he touched the small of her back, every part of her body came to attention.

“What a beautiful home,” she said once they were inside. Her eyes were drawn above the fireplace mantle to a painting of the big, white crane.

“Mamá painted that.”

“Nikita’s Mamá?”

“No. Mine. She’s a daughter to Apollo and shares his affinity with healing and the arts.”

“So your mother is a god, too?”

“Demigod, like me. Her mother was mortal.”

“Was?”

“My grandmother passed a few months ago.”

She laid her hand on her heart. “I’m so sorry.” Then she added. “Mine did, too.”

“My condolences.”

“Thank you.” She wondered if he had been close to his grandmother.

“Artemis was angry with her brother, Apollo. To hurt him, she tricked Hephaestus into sleeping with my mother. My mother fell in love with Hephaestus, but he never loved her in that way.”

“How sad,” Gertie said. “I’m sorry.”

“My mother gave birth to me in my father’s temple, to force him to claim me.”

“And did he?”

“Once he learned of Artemis’s trick,” Hector said. “My mother waited in the temple for three days after she delivered me. It was hard on her. On the third night, he came to her as a crane, and he spoke to her, promising to help her to raise me.”

“Do you see him often?” she asked

“Rarely. That night with you was my third time.”

Gertie let that sink in. On the one hand, she was honored to have been with Hector on one of the rare occasions when he was with his father. On the other hand, what would they have done that night in the sea if Hephaestus hadn’t helped them? She shuddered to think of it.

“Do Nikita and Klaus know?” she asked.

“Their whole family knows.”

“Nikita said you’re their protector.”

“That’s a story for another time.”

He took her hand and led her to the dining room, where the table was set for three. The drinks and salad had been laid out.

“Let’s get started,” he said. “Mamá said not to wait.”

“It looks delicious.” She sat down. He’d gone to a lot of trouble for her—unless he did this for his mother on a regular basis. “Do you always eat like this?”

“No. Oh, hold on,” he left the room and returned with a basket of rolls. “I had them in the warming drawer.”

The salad greens were sprinkled with nuts and feta cheese and a delicious sweet dressing. After Gertie finished, she told him it was very good.

“Did you make this?” she asked.

“It’s just chopping and assembling. Now for the main course,” he said, about to get up from his chair.

“Wait,” she said.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve tried and tried to remember what happened last night, and I come up with nothing.  The last thing I remember is crying on Jeno’s shoulder. Can you please tell me when you showed up and what happened? How did I get back to my bed?”

“I heard you scream,” Hector said.

Gertie’s eyes widened. She had no recollection. “You must have excellent hearing.”

“I could tell it was coming from the acropolis,” he continued. “So I jumped in my car and drove as far as I could. Then I ran—I’m very fast, by the way. I saw Jeno fighting with his sister over you. She wanted to feed from you, but he wouldn’t let her.”

“So Jeno was protecting me from his sister?” she asked.

Hector frowned. “Or keeping you for himself.”

“So then what?”

“I fought them off and took you home.”

“Was anyone hurt?” she asked.

“No.” The muscles near his jaw tensed.

“Did you carry me to my bed?”

He blushed. “I would have, had you needed me to. But, no, you walked.”

“Why can’t I remember?” she was stumped.

“Vampires have mind-controlling abilities,” Hector said.

Gertie chewed on her bottom lip, wondering why Jeno would erase her memory.

“How did you end up with him last night in the first place?” Hector asked.

Gertie blushed. “He came to see me. He’d saved my life the night before.”

“I heard about that,” Hector said. “Though I doubt he saved your life. He just prevented you from getting bit. You would have lived.”

Gertie said nothing.

“Let me get the kabobs. I hope you like them.”

He left the dining room and returned in a moment with a large platter filled with food. Over a bed of white rice were laid several skewers of chunks of beef, covered in sauce. Hector moved some of the food onto a plate for Gertie. Then he served himself. Steam rose in curls from both their plates, and the aroma was tangy and appetizing.

“I’m so impressed,” Gertie said as she finished her first bite. “This is wonderful. What kind of sauce is this?”

“Yogurt, tomato sauce, paprika, and cayenne pepper.”

“You should work with Babá! Yum!”

“I’m glad you like it.”

For the rest of the evening, they talked about school and books they had read. When they’d finished, he showed her his rooms upstairs. He had a library filled with books, and he said she could borrow any she wanted. Next door to the library was an armory with swords, knives, shields, and daggers hanging on the walls and up on shelves.

“Gifts from my father,” he said.

On the other side of the armory was the music room. It was filled with stringed instruments, a baby grand piano, and drums of different shapes and sizes. He had a name for each of them.