Rest in Pieces (Barbie: The Vampire Hunter Book 1)

by Lucinda Dark

  “Then why, pray tell, are you talking to me?” I asked.

  “Boredom?”

  Behind my sealed lips, I shoved my tongue over my teeth and sucked in hard. “Lovely,” I finally said. “At least you’re honest.”

  “And so are you.” She beamed. “But besides that, do you want to know why no one else has talked to you yet?”

  “Not particularly,” I said, “but you’re going to tell me anyway, aren’t you?”

  She nodded vigorously, sending the cascade of her cherry locks over one shoulder. “It’s not because Rachel has deemed you undesirable. She can’t really give that edict. Drives her insane, but it’s true. Everyone here is rich, so that kinda evens the playing field. Though, she’d like to believe she’s her own little Regina George—movie deal included.”

  Mrs. Echolls, the teacher in charge of supervising study hall, paused between our desks. “Miss Jones, can you tell me why your textbook is out, but no work is being done?”

  I was almost thankful for the teacher, but instead of sinking down and turning back to her textbook, Olivia waved her fingers dismissively. “Because it’s all done,” she answered.

  Mrs. Echolls’ lips turned down, making the wrinkles lining the corners of her lips deepen into grooves. “Well, see that you don’t make Miss…” I could tell when the teacher swung towards me, pausing as her lips parted midsentence, that she had no clue who I was.

  I sighed. “Barbie,” I offered blandly. “Barbie Steele.”

  “Right.” She cleared her throat, looking back to Olivia over the rims of her glasses. “See that you don’t interrupt Miss Steele’s study time. You’re not the only one in here, Miss Jones.”

  “No worries, Mrs. E.” Olivia grinned. “I’m helping her out.” Mrs. Echolls hummed doubtfully as she strode off. I went back to calculus.

  Not even a minute went by before she started again. “So anyway…”—I slapped my pencil against my desk. If there was a devil, Redheaded McChatterbox was certainly a punishment from his domain. “People aren’t talking to you, but it’s not because they’re scared of Rachel. Half of the guys on the football team already think you’re hot. Standing up to her definitely gained you some cool points. I heard Calvin Wallace—”

  “Is there a point to this, or are you just going to keep talking until someone shuts you up?” I asked. “Because if you’re looking for someone to stop you, say the word. I know how to knock a bitch out in less than three seconds and I’m cheaper than duct tape or sleeping pills. In fact, I’ll do it for free.”

  “You’re unapproachable,” she said, not seeming the least bit put off by my threat. “That’s why people aren’t willing to talk to you.”

  “Well, I’m obviously not unapproachable enough,” I pointed out. “Since here you sit. What do you really want, Lindsey Lohan?”

  “I feel like I’m more of a Lucille Ball,” she countered. “The classic kind of pretty rather than the strung out on drugs kind.” I placed my hand on the desk and slowly but deliberately tapped my fingers, letting them click against the faux wood of the desktop one at a time—waiting. “Okay fine, I want gossip,” she said. “You’re living with Maverick McKnight. You’ve got access to the King and I want in.”

  My fingers stopped. That caught my attention. “King?” I repeated. “I thought Torin Priest was the ‘King’ of St. Marion?” I rolled my eyes even as I air quoted the title the girl who’d been my tour guide had given him.

  Olivia’s lips curved into a slow, seductive smile. She looked like a cat ready to eat the cream. “So, you have been paying attention to the school’s hierarchy,” she said knowingly.

  “No, I haven’t,” I snapped. “Some girl just told me—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” That damned grin of hers was still there and it was starting to piss me off. “But to answer your question, Torin is … was … well, it’s actually complicated. They used to be the Kings of St. Marion, like co-ruling monarchs or whatever.” She waved her hand nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t just proclaimed two teenage boys royalty. Was this what public school was like?

  I told myself to just let it go, to leave it at that. Torin Priest was none of my business. He was just another guy like any other. And Maverick McKnight was just an unfortunate jackass I had to spend the next year or so living in the room across from his. I had more important things to do—namely more important things to stake.

  “Torin and Maverick used to be best friends,” she admitted.

  I frowned, trying to picture a scowling Maverick in all his football finery being best friends with pretty boy Torin Priest in his boots and t-shirts. One made me want to shove a baseball bat down his throat and the other … unsettled me.

  “Why used to be?” I found myself asking.

  As if sensing someone willing to listen to her gossip, Olivia crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward. “Torin and Maverick were friends back in pre-school and up until two years ago, they were as close as two guys who aren’t boning could get. And if the rumor mill on their sex lives is anything to go by, those guys are anything but gay. Besides, Maverick had a girlfriend up until about two years ago.”

  I bit my lip. Don’t ask, Barbie. It’s not important, I said to myself. Learning about Torin or Maverick won’t help you find vampires or kill them.

  While my brain definitely got the memo, my mouth did not. “What happened?” I asked.

  Olivia smiled, showcasing two rows of teeth that had been perfectly bleached of any stains. Did the girl even eat or drink anything? “Well, no one actually knows for sure,” she started. “But one day they both came to school and Maverick kept trying to talk to Torin and Torin cut him off completely. He changed out of all the classes he shared with Maverick and quit the football team.”

  “Torin was on the football team?” Huh. For some reason, I couldn’t picture it. To be honest, if I hadn’t seen how well Maverick filled out a uniform, I wouldn’t have believed he was a football player either. I always pictured football players as these huge, hulking guys with thick necks and shoulders so wide they had to shimmy sideways into doorways. And while both Maverick and Torin were large guys, they were also fairly normal. You know, if you ignored the penetrating intensity from both, the asshole behavior of one, and the searing sarcasm from the other. Totally normal. Maybe. Ish.

  In response to my question, Olivia jerked her head up and down in a quick nod. “Oh yeah. They were, like, the best players. Torin was the quarterback before he quit. He didn’t even give a reason. It was so weird. But then there was the whole thing with Maryanne, and after that, I knew their friendship was well and truly over. I mean, some people can survive that but it’s pretty rare.”

  I pressed my lips together and when she didn’t elaborate, choosing to drone on about friendships and the loss of theirs, I stopped her. “Who is Maryanne?”

  “Oh, right!” Olivia shook her head. “I forgot you didn’t know about her. Maryanne was Maverick’s girlfriend.”

  “Was?” I clarified.

  “Yeah.” Olivia’s eyes brightened. “They’d been together since freshman year. She was on the cheer squad. Maryanne had it all, girl. You have no idea. But not long after Torin and Maverick stopped being friends—Maryanne was trying to get them to talk it out—Torin came to school on this black—get this—motorcycle!” I failed to see the importance of the motorcycle, but I nodded so that she would continue. “It was so hot. And guess who was on the back of it with him?”

  “I await with bated breath,” I said dryly.

  “Maryanne!” she exclaimed, earning a hissed shush from Mrs. Echolls from the front of the room. “Oops.” Olivia grimaced and then shrugged, going right back to her story, though she lowered her voice as she did. “Anyway, apparently, he gave her a ride to school or so she said. But I talked to Stella Grant, and she said that Rex Dorphin’s mom saw them—”

  “The human body has something like seven trillion nerves,” I said through gritted teeth, “and somehow, you’re man
aging to get on every single one of mine. Get to the point, Red.”

  “Right, well, suffice it to say that there were some pretty nasty rumors about Maryanne jumping from Maverick to Torin. Personally, I think that was just the thing to seal the deal between them. If Maryanne did sleep with Torin, I don’t think Torin cared about her. She ended up moving not long afterwards. That wasn’t the start of the end for them.” She bit her lip and leaned forward a bit more conspiratorial. “Apparently, in all their years of friendship, Maverick never met Torin’s dad and I heard that the senior Priest was in town the weekend before Torin quit football and cut Maverick off. Maryanne wasn’t the beginning, she was the end.”

  My lips parted as I narrowed my eyes on her. “What does Torin’s father have to do with anything?”

  Olivia blinked at me. “Isn’t it obvious?” she asked. “Maverick and Torin knew each other for years and Maverick never met his dad. Years, girl. Yeah, Mr. Priest apparently travels a lot, but from what I hear, Torin’s real guardian is his sister.” She paused, tightening her fingers into a fist over her jean clad thigh. “But it’s Katalin’s friends that are the chicks you don’t want to piss off—I’ve only seen them at the parties Torin used to throw, but I wouldn’t want to be alone in a room with them if you know what I mean. Eloise just seems so ethereal, you know? Like nothing can touch her. Delia, though, she’s the one to watch out for. At one of the last Priest parties, I saw her toss this guy into their pool.”

  “Okay?” I squinted, not understanding.

  “He hit his head,” Olivia confessed, biting down on her lower lip. “There was a lot of blood, and he had to get stitches. She just laughed.”

  I hummed. “That is crazy.” It was downright incriminating.

  “She’s just got this look in her eyes. You know—like crazy eyes.” Olivia paused with a shudder. “But don’t worry, you don’t have to worry about seeing any of them out and about, though. I’ve heard they’ve all got this allergy to the sun or whatever. No one ever sees them out before dark and whenever there’s a parent teacher conference or something, his sister has to schedule it after the sun goes down. To my knowledge, they don’t work—just sponge off Mr. Priest, not like he can’t afford it, but anyway—Maverick and Torin.” She shifted her legs again, switching which one was on top and scooted to the edge of her seat. “So anyway, like I said, around the time Maverick and Torin stopped talking to one another, Mr. Priest was in town. Candace Roloson saw a limo at their mansion and there was a whole bunch of security. You know, guys in suits and leather, sunglasses. The whole shebang. Next thing you know, Torin and Maverick are on the outs. Major weird.”

  “That is weird,” I admitted. My mind was churning. Maybe learning about Torin Priest was going to help me find vampires. A sister and friends with an allergy to the sun? Was that even a real thing?

  “Yeah, totes weird. I think it’s Mr. Priest. He didn’t want them hanging out or Maverick said something to piss him off—”

  “He does seem to be able to rub someone the wrong way,” I remarked.

  “Yeah, well after Maverick and Torin had their split or whatever, Torin stopped throwing those parties too. Which was a major bummer. They were killer ragers. Mr. Priest is never around and Katalin didn’t care if there was underage drinking or anything. The cops never got called. Even if parents found out about them, they didn’t dare try to come after the Priests. No one would.”

  “Because they’re rich?” I clarified.

  “Well, yeah, that and they’re totally scary. My bet is that Torin is actually the heir to some overseas mafia or something.” She laughed as if the idea was ludicrous. “But Torin’s finally come out of his shell again. Apparently, there’s going to be another party tomorrow night after the football game. First one in two years,” she said. “Everyone’s going to be there. People are starved for a Priest party.”

  A part of me actually kind of hoped she was right in guessing that Torin Priest was the son of some mysterious foreign mafia. Because if what I was thinking was true, then what was a human doing living with a vampire? Whatever the case. I had to find out.

  “So,” I finally said, “are you going to this Priest Party?”

  Olivia lowered her lashes and looked up at me through the thin veil of spiderweb thin curled black lines. “Maybe.”

  And there it was. The kicker. Sticking the tip of my tongue between my teeth, I couldn’t help but laugh. She’d done it. Drawn me in and hooked me like a damn fish. I leaned back and flicked my Calculus book closed. “Alright, out with it,” I said. “What’s it going to take to find out where this party is?”

  “I want you to invite me over to your house,” she said.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because, like I said, you live with Maverick McKnight. The Maverick McKnight.”

  More like the pain in my ass. “Fine,” I said. “When?”

  “You invite me over today,”—my right eyeball twitched—“and not only will I tell you where the Priest Party is being held, I’ll drive you there myself,” she offered.

  What else could I do? I needed to get to that party. I needed to find out if Katalin Priest was just an unusual human living like a vampire or an even more unusual vampire who needed to get herself staked and baked by none other than little ol’ me.

  “I think you’ve got yourself a deal, Merida.”

  She flicked another strand of hair off her shoulder and grinned. “I always knew people thought I was a princess.”

  Eleven

  Barbie

  Olivia, as it turned out, was true to her word. Despite her request, I didn’t let her come over the same day. We exchanged numbers and she met me after school in the stands of St. Marion’s football stadium the following day. The school’s football field was college level professional. It was mowed to perfection with bleachers cleaner than I’d ever seen on TV. A dozen or so players ran the length of the immaculate football field in their gear, and even though the day had a breezy chill to it, I could imagine that they must have already been sweating up a storm.

  “Look, there’s Maverick,” Olivia said, pointing across the field.

  I followed Olivia’s finger and grimaced when I saw that Maverick had already been made aware of my arrival. Unlike the others, Maverick stood on the sidelines, his hair drenched in what I could only assume was sweat. It looked like I’d missed his round of practice. Maverick’s scowl deepened when our gazes locked. Unfortunately for him, I didn’t scare so easily. Lifting my fingers, I wiggled them at him with a smug grin. His upper lip curled back and he whirled around and stomped away.

  “Awww, trouble in paradise?” Olivia grinned, unperturbed by Maverick’s hasty retreat.

  “If this is what you think paradise is,” I replied, “I’d hate to see your idea of Hell.”

  Together, we headed off the bleachers as the coach called in his remaining players. My guess, they’d be allowed to chill before the big game that night. Personally, I didn’t care about the game. My entire focus was on the party that would follow and what information I could glean from it. There was just something about Torin Priest that rubbed me the wrong way.

  I said nothing as Olivia took me to her white Porsche. She hadn’t been kidding when she said she was an heiress. If she wasn’t, then I had good reason to believe that my new friend was into some pretty illegal shit—shit that could afford her the nicest of everything, including cars and the diamond encrusted Rolex that hung from her rearview mirror.

  We drove to the McKnight house in relative peace. I considered it relative because as I sat back and listened to her drone on about the school and what so-and-so said to who, I somehow managed to block most of it out. The more she talked, the less I heard. She was skilled at managing to hold an entire one-sided conversation by herself without much more than a few grunts of acknowledgment from me. When we pulled up to the house, I nearly tripped getting out of the damn car just to get away from her incessant chatter.

  Olivia’s slow whistle
drew my eyes. “What?” I asked as I led her up the staircase. We bypassed the hallway and headed straight for my bedroom.

  “This place is adorable.” She whirled around as I stopped at my door and pushed it open. Olivia twisted right by me and turned, landing on her back in the center of my mattress. “I bet you never lived in anything so cute,” she gushed. “You’re living the high life now, girl, and you don’t even know it!”

  “Oh, believe me,” I replied. “I know exactly what kind of life I’m living.” I dropped my backpack by the desk and kicked it out of sight. Hopefully, the age old saying of out of sight and out of mind was true for this girl because she seemed like the snooping type and I really didn’t need a wannabe gossip going through my shit.

  Why had I allowed her to come over again? I asked myself. In the next minute, I answered my silent question. Because a) she was my key to getting to the Priest party and b) having someone who knew all of the latest gossip on the Priest family was probably going to come in handy—especially if it turned out that one or more of them were vampires. I had no clue what vampires would have to do with a human guy like Torin—because there was no way he could be a vampire. He had walked through sunlight and eaten real food. I would just have to suffer through Olivia’s attempt at a makeover.

  “Okay, Cinderella,” Olivia said, sitting up as she clapped her hands. “Hair.” She looked me up and down. “I’m thinking side-braid, a fishtail. Then makeup. Do you have any?”

  I gave her an unimpressed look. “What do you think?”

  She shrugged. “Can’t judge a book by its cover,” she countered. “Now, do you want to go to the party or not?”

  Touché.

  “I’ve got a few things in my desk,” I said, spinning the chair and opening drawers. “But don’t hold out hope for the good stuff.” I pulled out an old dollar store pallet along with a singular brush, a tube of chapstick, and an eyeliner pencil. The sound of shifting sheets behind me caused me to look back. Olivia left the bed and moved closer, peeking over my shoulder.