And hunters didn’t giggle at vampires.
It was an unspoken rule.
“You’re cold,” he murmured when goosebumps lifted on my arms. I was really glad I was cold and didn’t have to wonder if his presence was making me shivery and ridiculous. He stepped closer to me, blocking the wind. Pretty much blocking everything. “Better?” he asked casually, the way Spencer talked to me. Still, he was really close.
“Oh my God, Quinn,” Lucy interrupted, causing us both to jump. “Could you stop flirting for three seconds and come on?”
Chapter 5
•
Hunter
Wednesday Morning
Chloe was far too cheerful.
“Am not,” she insisted, sipping root beer out of a straw as loudly as she could to annoy me. “You’re just grumpy.”
It was possible she was right. I hadn’t even realized I’d spoken out loud.
I hadn’t gotten back until four o’clock in the morning and it was only eight thirty now. We didn’t get up this early even when we had classes, because they ran from 1:00 to 4:00 P.M. and again from 8:00 P.M. to midnight. We had to be used to late hours in our line of work. And Chloe was usually the last one out of bed, grumbling the entire time. I didn’t know how or why she’d become a morning person over the summer but I suspected it was just to bug me.
I pulled my pillow over my head. “Too early.”
“Just taking my vitamins,” she said.
“You don’t take vitamins.”
“I do now. Mom gave them to me after my last report card. And these gross protein shakes, which I conveniently forgot to pack.” She slurped more root beer. Loudly.
“Don’t make me stake you.” I revealed just enough of one eyeball to glare at her menacingly.
She grinned. “Morning to you too, sunshine. Want a vitamin?”
“Who are you, evil pod person, and what have you done with Chloe?” I was too tired even to yawn. My eyes felt glued shut. I snuggled deeper into my warm blankets. Chloe finally finished her root beer and went back to her computers. The tapping of the keyboard lulled me to sleep.
For about five minutes. Until the phone rang.
I threw a stake at it.
The receiver clattered to the ground and Chloe jumped, knocking her chair over. She whirled around, pointing at me accusingly. “You scared the crap out of me.”
I wasn’t too tired to grin. “Sorry.”
“You will be, Wild.” She tossed the receiver back into the cradle. The academy was too cheap to spring for cordless phones like every other modern facility on the face of the planet. My cell phone trilled, vibrating across the surface of my night table. I grabbed it, frowning at the display.
I sat straight up in my bed, swearing.
“Who is it?” Chloe asked.
“Bellwood.”
Chloe’s eyes widened. “About last night? York already nailed you for being a good person.”
I swallowed, flicking my phone on.
“Hello?” I sounded hesitant, even to my own ears.
“Ms. Wild?”
“Yes.”
“This is Headmistress Bellwood. You will come to my office, please.”
“I … what’s this about?”
“Don’t play games, Miss Wild, I haven’t the time. You left school property last night, after the drill.”
“Uh …” I just stared helplessly at Chloe while the headmistress continued to lecture me in that stern, dry voice of hers.
“I will expect you in five minutes.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I hung up and closed my eyes briefly. Grandpa was going to kill me.
“What happened?” Chloe asked.
“She wants to see me.”
“That’s never good.”
“Tell me about it.” I kicked free of my blankets, grabbing for my cargos and a T-shirt with the Helios-Ra High School logo printed on the front.
“You can’t be getting busted that hard for helping a Niner? Before school even starts?”
“No. For sneaking off campus last night.”
“For sneaking—what? Hunter Wild, you went and had fun without me?” She sounded both stunned and hurt.
“Of course not.” I hastily tied my hair back. “I’ll tell you all about it later. I gotta go.”
“You snuck out.” She shook her head as I hurried out the door. “And I’m the pod person?”
•
I ran all the way to the main building where classes were held. Headmistress Bellwood’s office was on the ground floor overlooking a rose garden she rarely stopped to enjoy. The school felt hollow and eerie without the usual scuffle of shoes or locker doors slamming.
And almost as creepy was the headmistress, who belonged in a Victorian gothic novel, scaring the children in an orphanage. Her hair was pulled back tightly, without a single strand daring to escape. She wore the same black suit she always wore and the same pearl earrings. If she’d had glasses, she would have been glaring at me over their rims. At least I was in proper school attire, but I hadn’t had time to brush my teeth or wash my face.
“Ms. Wild, have a seat,” she said when she saw me hovering in the doorway.
I swallowed and stepped inside her office, which was scrupulously neat, as expected. There were no mementos on her oak desk, no family photographs—even though I knew she had two daughters.
But she did have York cluttering up her office.
He’d been standing in the corner by the window and file cabinet, no doubt hiding to take me by surprise. I stopped in the middle of the room, standing at attention. Mostly so I wouldn’t give in to the temptation to throw something at his head.
“The headmistress asked you to sit down,” he said.
I sat down.
She put her pen down and looked at me, abandoning her paperwork. “I should tell you, Ms. Wild, that we installed new surveillance cameras on campus over the summer.”
I was so totally busted.
And it was worth it. I’d been to a vampire coronation. Surely that was worth a lecture and some detention. I schooled my expression so that I looked properly chastised. If York thought for one second that I wasn’t suffering enough, he’d try harder to have me punished.
“You were caught on video sneaking off school property in the middle of the night. I hardly need to tell you this kind of behavior is inappropriate. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Uh …” Hart, who is technically your boss, invited me to see Helena Drake get crowned in the woods? Headmistress Bellwood would never believe me. And I wasn’t entirely sure if it had been a clandestine assignment. I hadn’t thought to ask, and no one had said. I’d have to call Kieran. “I—”
“You’re not going to tell me that you were running laps or practicing drills, are you?” she interrupted drily. “Because I can assure you, there isn’t a single excuse you could give me that I haven’t heard before or that would exonerate you.”
Damn it, and I totally had one.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Ms. Wild, I am very disappointed in you. You have been a model student these last three years. I would hate for that to change,” she added pointedly. If her tone had been a weapon, it would have been a fencing rapier that drew blood with barely a scratch. York’s would have been a cudgel.
“Yes, ma’am.” I tried not to squirm or fidget.
She leaned back in her chair. “Two months’ detention, one month of kitchen duty, and three demerits.”
Crap.
“Three?” I gaped. We were allowed five per year; the sixth got us expelled. I’d never even had one. York looked smug.
“And we’ll have to call your grandfather, of course,” he added.
Double crap.
“But …” I had no idea how to talk my way out of this one. I wasn’t prepared. Another rule broken. I was always prepared.
So not fair.
“You may go.”
I stood up and went to the door, avoiding eye contact with
York. It would just piss me off even more to see him looking so pleased. He really did hate me. Weren’t teachers supposed to like everyone? Or at least fake it?
“Oh, Ms. Wild,” the headmistress stopped me at the door, one step away from freedom.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I don’t want to see you here again.”
“No, ma’am.”
I dialed Kieran’s cell the minute I was outside. The last of August’s sweltering heat pressed all around me. I was sweating by the time I reached the barn, which had been converted into the school gym. I got his voice mail. I swore for a good long minute before adding, “Was last night a covert op? Because I want my demerit points wiped. And you suck as an undercover agent. Didn’t you know there were new cameras?” And then I swore some more.
I stomped through the locker room, pulling on my workout clothes with enough force to stretch the fabric. The locker door had a satisfying slam and metallic reverberation when I kicked it shut. I was going to kick the stuffing right out of my favorite punching bag. Twice.
Except that Chloe was already using it.
“Okay, now you’re just freaking me out,” I said, stopping to watch her roundhouse kick. It was still a little sloppy, lacking power. Her thick curls were damp and tied back in a messy knot. Her gym shorts and sneakers were brand new.
“If you’re on York’s radar, then so am I,” she grunted. “And if I fail his class this year my mom will kill me. Over and over again.”
I went to the bag next to hers. I stretched for a few minutes and then taped my hands.
“So are you doing time or what?” she asked, trying an uppercut. The bag swung back and nearly batted her across the room.
“Two months’ detention, kitchen cleanup, and demerits.”
She paused. “You got demerits?” The bag swung again, hitting her in the hip and shoulder. She stumbled. “You’ve never gotten a demerit.”
“I know,” I said grimly. “If you let your hip pivot just a little when you do that punch, it’ll be stronger. And use your first two knuckles for your jab.”
I flicked on the ancient stereo in the corner with the toe of my shoe and turned up the volume until the windows rattled slightly. We stood side by side and punched and kicked the punching bags for a good half hour without talking. My lungs were burning and my face felt red and sweaty when I finally stopped. Chloe was bent over, panting and gagging. I handed her a bottle of water.
“Thanks,” she croaked.
“You’re overdoing it,” I croaked back. “I’ve never seen you work out that hard.”
She wiped her face with a towel and shrugged. “Then I guess I’m due. I can’t fail the year, Hunter.”
“You’re not going to,” I assured her. I’d never heard her this worried. She did so well in all of her computer classes and was already assigned to the Tech department. Her combat skills wouldn’t hold her back from any of that.
She sighed. “You know I’m not very good at this stuff.”
I finished my water and threw the bottle into the recycling bin. “Well, I am, so no worries. Listen, we can practice together. It’ll be fine.”
“Yeah?” she asked hopefully.
“Of course.”
She grinned, looking slightly less panicked. Then she hiccuped and grimaced. “Good, ’cause that protein powder tastes like crap. Mom sent me a new tub.” She scowled. “And if it makes me fat, I’m wiping her hard drive.”
Chapter 6
•
Quinn
Thursday evening
“God, Quinn, how many freaking girls’ phone numbers do you have on this thing?” Connor shook his head, scrolling through my cell phone address book.
I shrugged, grinning. “I can’t help it if I’m irresistible.” Sitting on the edge of his bed, I leaned back against the wall. Moonlight filtered through the open window. The wind tasted like pine needles and smoke. “You’d get more girls if you ever actually left your computer.”
He didn’t even look up. “If I didn’t spend so much time on that computer, you’d never get your phone working again. Or your laptop. I keep telling you not to open e-mail attachments from people you don’t know.”
“She was really hot.”
“And now your computer’s down.”
I grimaced. “And my phone. Is that a virus too?”
“No, genius. It’s just so crammed full of texts from girls sending you smiley faces and x’s and o’s that it’s clogged up and buggy.”
“Can you unbug it?”
Now he did look at me, all affronted techie. “Of course I can debug it. Question is, can you stop getting girls’ phone numbers?”
“Hell, no. And why would I want to?”
He did whatever it was he did, hitting buttons, muttering curses, taking the innards of any technological implement personally until it bowed to his will. And then he grinned smugly, reaching for one of the bottles of blood in the bar fridge by his bed. He opened one for himself and then tossed me one, along with my phone.
“There. It’ll work but it won’t be completely reliable until you delete some of those contacts.”
I scrolled through the names regretfully. “You’re cruel, man.”
“I prefer Evil Genius.” He turned back to his computer.
“You should have more fun, twin of mine,” I suggested.
“Or you could have less fun and leave some for the rest of us.”
“There’s no such thing.” I left him to his machinations and went downstairs, trying to remember who Karin was and why she’d sent me a sonnet about my hair. The lamps were dim, the dogs snoring in the foyer. The front door opened and Logan and Isabeau came in, Isabeau’s wolfhound trotting at her side.
I waved at them but didn’t stop. I could hear someone’s heartbeat in the back corner where the library joined the living room and the kitchen. It was going a little too fast for my liking.
I went straight into the living room, narrowing my eyes at Solange’s back. Her arms were twined around Kieran’s neck. His hands were a little too clever.
“Black, don’t make me kill you,” I told him pleasantly. He jumped and pulled back, his ears going red. Solange sighed.
“Thanks, Quinn,” she said. “Way to ruin the moment.”
“I try,” I said, unrepentant.
“Someday, I’ll actually get to kiss you without one of my nosy annoying brothers barging in,” she whispered to Kieran.
“Don’t count on it,” Logan said as he and Isabeau followed me. Kieran’s phone rang inside his jacket. He looked relieved to answer it.
“You kiss girls all the time,” Solange pointed out to me. Lately the only girl Logan kissed was Isabeau.
“Flattery will get you nowhere.” I made myself more comfortable.
“You’re not going away, are you?”
“Nope.”
Solange folded her arms. “Lucy and Nicholas are making out in the solarium. Go bug them.”
“But I like bugging you.”
“Quinn.”
“Solange, look at your eyes,” I said softly, too softly for Kieran to hear me. She frowned, then glanced into the art nouveau mirror on one of the shelves. A bronze woman in a flowing dress held up the reflection of Solange’s pupils, ringed in red. The dark pupils all but swallowed up her usually blue irises. She froze, shooting me a horrified look. Her fingers trembled slightly when she reached up to touch the tips of her fangs. They were completely extended, in full hunger mode.
She tilted her head down and stepped into the shadows.
“I have to go,” she told Kieran abruptly, and then bolted upstairs before he could answer. He flicked his phone off and frowned at me.
“Is she okay?”
“She’ll be fine.” She just needed more blood and less human temptation. The hunger wasn’t easily explained, or easily controlled. Kieran would know that as a vampire hunter. But as her boyfriend, I wasn’t sure how much he really got it. He took a step, as if he was about to f
ollow her. “Just leave her be,” I advised him quietly as Isabeau moved up the stairs, light as smoke.
He didn’t look convinced but he nodded once. “I have to go anyway. Duty calls.”
“Yeah? Who are we staking?” There was only a faint sarcastic edge to my voice. He was a vampire hunter, after all. And I was a vampire.
“Hel-Blar,” he replied, heading toward the front door. “Got an all-call alarm. They’re getting a little too close to town tonight.”
“Yeah?” I grabbed my coat, even though I rarely felt the cold. I had stakes and various supplies in the inside pocket. There was a dagger strapped around my ankle, under the ragged bottom of my jeans. “Sounds like fun,” I said, showing my fangs. “Let’s go.”
•
We were in the woods when the smell hit: mushrooms and mildew and wet, ancient decay.
Hel-Blar.
“Incoming,” I warned Kieran. He flipped a UV gun out of its hidden holster. I filled my hands with stakes, nostrils flaring as I tried to pinpoint which direction the stench was coming from. It was so thick and gag-inducing that it seemed to be everywhere. Kieran slipped on a pair of nose plugs. I knew what that meant and it had nothing to do with the miasma of rotting mushrooms and stagnant pond water.
“If you hit me with any of that Hypnos, I really will kill you,” I said darkly.
He didn’t have time to answer.
We were surrounded.
I didn’t know what they looked like to Kieran’s human eyes, but to me, even in the dark, they were bruise-blue and gangrene-black and utterly unnatural. Their teeth were all fangs, all contagious saliva, all feral, savage hunger. They even fed off other vampires, which no other vamp did. It wasn’t nutritious like straight human or animal blood. It was about the kill, not the feeding.
And it was just rude.
I staked the first one after he swung down from a tree and knocked Kieran off his feet. He howled, jarring his wounded arm. The Hel-Blar burst into a cloud of blue-tinged dust that made us both gag. Kieran rolled to his feet. I was already leaping for another Hel-Blar.
There were four more that I could see, or hear, scuttling through the undergrowth. There was a pop from Kieran’s gun and the bullet capsule of UV-injected water dug into a Hel-Blar chest and exploded. He screamed, smoked as if there was fire burning him from the inside out, and then he disintegrated.
Out for Blood Page 4
