Pure Blood (The Pure Blood Series Book 1)

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Pure Blood (The Pure Blood Series Book 1) Page 3

by Katie Dunn


  I still wish I could humiliate him though—in defense of the guy in front of me. Someone needs to make Dean pay for all the embarrassment and hurt he has caused over the years. I imagine the water bottle in his hand, exploding and soaking his face and hair. I imagine him trying to make sense of how it mysteriously combusted. I jump when it actually happens.

  The bottle erupts, sending water all over Dean. Our teacher and a couple of students scramble to clean it up. Dean watches, dazed and confused. Water drips from his face to the floor. "Are you all right?" his friend asks.

  "I don't know what happened. Well, how it happened. I just…"

  Our teacher tries to calm him. "It's okay. It's okay. Just sit down for a minute."

  A sense of fear and heroism sweep over me. Fear because I don't know how or why my daydream came to life. Heroism because the boy in front of me is now smiling to his friends. "I guess miracles do come true," he says.

  I smile. I don't think I've ever seen Dean Lyle scared.

  I watch as Tom enters the classroom. He walks over and sits at the desk beside me. He notices Dean's wet appearance. "What'd I miss?"

  "Oh, only the most awesome thing ever," Riley says.

  THREE

  AFTER SCHOOL, my mom drives Riley and me to my dad's shop.

  Almost immediately he asks me to put the wheels on a motorcycle he is finishing up.

  Riley holds the tire in place as I fasten the bolts. "Your dad is so cool."

  I pause. That came out of nowhere. "Why?" I ask, concerned about the answer. A surprised look crosses her face. "Why? Your dad is much cooler than my dad. My dad owns an antique shop—your dad owns a motorcycle shop. My dad thinks ATV's are dangerous—your dad lets us drive them through mud."

  Riley is right. My dad is pretty cool. But I wouldn't care if he were lame. I would still love my dad.

  The thought of Riley and Derek runs across my mind again. I don't want to stick my nose where it doesn't belong. I know I shouldn't. But I do anyway. "So, um, what's going on with you and Derek?"

  She gazes up at me, obviously shocked I would ask. "What? Because I said he was cute?"

  We get the rear wheel on. "Am I wrong?" I ask.

  I put the ratchet in the toolbox and then meet her gaze. She gapes. "Brittany Thompson, I can't believe you'd ask that!"

  I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes. "I can't believe you think my brother is cute."

  I walk up to her and attempt to put a serious look on my face. But I can feel a smile trying to break through during this small interrogation. I have to aggravate Riley about this, but I am concerned at the same time. I mean, my brother and my best friend? Awkward. Riley puts her hands on my shoulders. "Britt, I promise you. I would never go after Derek." She says that, but she is going to have do better than that to persuade me. Something tells me that there's more here. Or there will be.

  Later on, I sit down at the counter in the front. Riley stands over me, watching as I fill out the rest of the paperwork for the motorcycle. My dad checks up on us, before he takes the motorcycle out for a test drive. "You about got it done, Britt?"

  My eyes remain on the paperwork. "Yes, sir. And please be careful," I add.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see him smile. "I will. Love you, baby girl."

  I know he will try to be careful, but I worry anyway. There are a number of different things that could happen on a test drive, and only so many things he could do to prevent them.

  I return my attention to the paperwork, trying not to worry about him too much. Riley leans on the desk beside me. "So, how are things going with you and Tom?"

  I'm not one to talk about my romantic life. Not even the kissing, or the dating, or my feelings. I keep it all to myself. Tom and I have been dating for a few months now. I'm not sure if I love him, but I do know that I really like him.

  Tom really is a nice guy. He's always been kind to me, looked out for me, been there when I needed him, and listened when I needed to talk about something. He's never pressured me or acted as if something else were more important. He's treated me well—much to my dad's liking. He truly is a good boyfriend. I only hope that I am just as good of a girlfriend to him.

  "Things are good," I reply. "It's just…" I trail off, unsure that I should share my romantic complications with her. But when she pushes the subject, I fold. "It's what?"

  "We've been running out of things to talk about."

  "So," Riley says. "Lots of couples go through a silent faze."

  I don't share Riley's optimism. The silence that takes place between Tom and me isn't at all comfortable silence. It would be fine if it was, but it isn't. It makes me worry that we may be heading down a path leading to our break up.

  "Look, Britt," Riley says. "If you're that worried about it, then you should talk to Tom over the matter."

  I gaze at her. "You think I should?"

  She nods. "Yes. It's the only way you two are gonna get through it."

  I return my gaze to the computer screen. "Okay. I'll talk to him about it. But let's just keep this between us."

  "All right. But you have to talk to him eventually," Riley chastises. She shoots me a knowing look. "That would be a great start for conversation. I'm sure you guys will talk about this for quite a while."

  I roll my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

  When my dad gets back, we close up the shop for the day and go home. When I walk through the door, I find Troy waiting in the kitchen. I kneel down and scratch behind his ears. "Hey, boy." He seems more than happy that I'm home.

  Riley also greets him by patting the top of his head. "Who's a good boy? You're a good boy. Yes, you are." We both sound like we're talking to a baby.

  I get a scoop of food and put it in Troy's bowl. I notice that Lenny hasn't eaten his food—again. Lenny doesn't like to eat his food. We've tried different brands, but he still won't eat his food. He's more picky than Troy.

  "All right, boy. Go eat your food." Troy listens and hurries to his food bowl.

  My dad shakes his head. "We'll never have another dog that listens so well."

  "Troy is pretty well-behaved. So is Lenny," Riley agrees.

  "Lenny's more particular than Troy though," I point out.

  "Yeah, but he's still a good boy," Riley says.

  When pizza arrives, we sit at the dining room table. After we pray, we talk about the day's events. It's not difficult for us to make conversation. That is, until Riley unknowingly sells me out. "Dean's water bottle exploded all over him. It was hysterical."

  My brothers laugh, and my parents smile, but they know I did it. I know they know, and I am fully aware of the fact that there's going to be a lecture in my future.

  Troy sits on the floor beside my chair, and Lenny lies down under the table. I'm guessing he's waiting for someone to drop something. Troy doesn't do that. He doesn't beg or eat the food we drop. He simply waits for us to just clean it up. Lenny isn't as disciplined.

  I grab my second slice of pizza and a piece of sausage falls off onto the floor. Sitting in my seat, I bend down to pick it up. Across the table, I notice Lenny eating a few pieces of pepperoni out of Derek's hand. That's why he won't eat his dog food. Derek's been feeding him our food.

  After dinner, the boys offer to put the clean dishes up in the cabinet and the dirty ones in the dishwasher. But my dad knows better. He knows the boys will do a haphazard job of it and he winds up helping them.

  Riley and I decide to go feed the horses, before it's too dark out. As we walk to the door, my dad tells us to bring Troy along for protection. Brighton is a pretty safe town, but my dad doesn't like for anyone to go outside this late in the evening all alone.

  As soon as his name is heard, Troy comes running into the room.

  I gaze at Riley. "Ready?"

  "If you are," she answers.

  We head out to the barn. I unlock the barn doors, and we head inside. I turn on the lights. Almost instantly, the horses start to go crazy. They rear and whimper and ba
ck away from us.

  I glance around the room, trying to see what's making them nervous, but can't find anything. I slowly walk over to one of the stalls and gently stroke the horse's head, trying to calm him. Riley does the same to another horse.

  Why do they keep freaking out? What's setting them off? Who knows? I don't see anything out of place.

  I feed the horses in hopes they'll calm down. Once they each have been fed, I go upstairs to the barn's loft to make sure nothing is up there. Troy decides to tag along. Because we have actual stairs and not a ladder leading up to the loft, Troy can easily make his way up.

  The room is almost completely dark. The moonlight shines through the one window in the loft. Hay bales stacked on top of each other cover the loft's floor. A small path lies from the stairs around to the corner closest to the window.

  I step around the hay bales to the dark corner. I can't make out anything hiding in the shadows. I guess there is nothing up here. I start to walk back toward the stairs, but Troy begins barking and growling.

  I turn my attention back to the shadowed corner. I stand behind Troy and squint my eyes. I am now certain that something is there. But I can't see anything in this light.

  I slowly and carefully inch closer, deliberately trying not to get too close. Whatever it is could attack Troy or even me, if I do.

  "Britt! You find anything?" Riley asks, as she walks up the stairs. I don't answer her. Instead, I kneel down to see better. A silhouette of a small animal comes into focus.

  A cat.

  I grab Troy's collar and pull him back. Riley steps into the shadow and scoops the cat up into her arms. "Aw, the little guy is shaking."

  "Aw, poor thing."

  Troy continues to growl at the cat. I put my arm around him and stroke the top of his head. If he notices, he doesn't show it.

  "Britt? Riley?" My dad's voice echoes throughout the barn.

  I follow Riley to the stairs, holding onto Troy by his collar. I don't want him to hurt Riley, trying to get to the cat. I seriously do think he would try to kill the poor little thing if I didn't hold him back.

  My dad waits for us at the bottom of stairs. "What are y'all doing up there?"

  "We found this little guy." I incline my head, gesturing to the cat. My dad's attention shifts from the cat to Troy. He still growls at the cat. His attention hasn't left the critter.

  My dad advises us it's time to get back to the house. We carefully step outside and the cat leaps from Riley's arms. He runs off in the vicinity of the woods and disappears into the night.

  Troy relaxes, and I let go of his collar. He sticks near me, alert and ready to take on any danger. But there isn't any more for tonight. We have no trouble as we advance to the house.

  Everything settles down for the night as we get ready for bed. Lenny climbs the stairs with my brothers. He usually sleeps in the twins' room. I guess he feels that he needs to protect them more, because they're little. Lenny might not be the best-behaved dog, but he means well.

  Before Riley and I head up, I remind my dad that he needs to take Troy and Lenny to the vet before he opens the shop in the morning. It's about time for them to receive their shots. And of course Lenny always tries to fight it. Troy, on the other hand, knows it's inevitable.

  Riley climbs into bed, and I attempt to cushion my palette on the floor. Anytime I've ever spent the night at her house, she has always slept on the floor and let me have the bed. Tonight, I do the same for her. Most girls just share a bed, but Riley and I have never done that. And we don't intend to start.

  We pray, and pretty soon her breathing steadies, and I realize that she's asleep.

  Troy lies on the floor beside me. I extend my hand and scratch behind his ear. He slowly closes his eyes and falls asleep much sooner than I do. I stop scratching so he can rest.

  I turn over on my side and close my eyes, but sleep doesn't come so easily tonight. It seems like I lie there forever, before I finally drift off. Sleep wraps around me like a blanket. It comes slowly, but surely.

  ͠

  "Britt. Britt. Brittany!" I wake to the sound of Riley's whispered voice. She kneels beside me with her hands on my shoulders.

  I sit up. "What is it?"

  Her face grows discontent. "You were right," she mumbles.

  "What? What are you talking about?" My mind is completely blank.

  She rolls her eyes. "Listen."

  Footsteps.

  They come from the stairs. You can barely hear them. It sounds like bare feet slightly sticking then pulling from the hardwood floor. Which brings me to my next question. How did Riley hear them? They didn't wake me up. They never wake me up. The only way you can ever hear them is if you are already up.

  There must be a puzzled look on my face, because Riley explains. "I was already up. I had to get some water and heard them."

  I can't take it anymore. I'm gonna find out what the heck is going on once and for all. I stand up. I walk over to my closet and reach for the metal bat that's right inside the door. But it's missing, so I decide to bring Troy, instead.

  Riley watches in curiosity. "What're you doing?"

  "I'm gonna give whoever or whatever it is a piece of my mind." I walk toward the door, and Troy gives a loud bark. I turn to him and put my finger over my lips. "Shh, Troy."

  I turn back to the door. Riley comes to stand right behind me as I carefully and quietly put my hand on the doorknob. I slowly turn it. I can feel the tension ramping up with each millimeter the knob turns. The knob stops, going as far as it can go.

  I slowly open the door and peer into the hallway. Nothing. I don't see anything in the dim hall. I don't hear anything either.

  I quietly slip down the hall and to the stairs. Riley and Troy follow. Riley copies me, tiptoeing as quiet as she possibly can. Troy, on the other hand, makes some noise. Not a lot, just the clickety-clack of his nails meeting the hardwood floor.

  When we make it to the bottom of the stairs, I glance through the open doorway into the living room. Still nothing. The house, completely silent. The living room, dim.

  I step into the living room, and Troy gives another bark. I pause, frozen at the ear-splitting noise. Riley glares at Troy, after I glare at him.

  We continue through the house, hoping for the element of surprise. That is, if Troy doesn't let everyone in the neighborhood know what we're doing first.

  Once we creep closer to the dining room, I make out a tapping noise coming from the kitchen.

  An animal's paws.

  My heart races. My breathing seems so loud, yet it isn't. It's silent.

  I stand in outside the kitchen doorway, trying to calm myself down. I slow my breathing. With that, my heartbeat slows. I realize that it's now or never.

  I take a deep breath and slowly walk into the kitchen. My eyes catch everything. My brain registers anything being in or out of place. But nothing is.

  I shake my head in disbelief at what I find behind the island.

  This is completely mental. Eerie is another word to describe it. And the part that doesn't escape me, is how it's even remotely possible.

  It makes no sense whatsoever. First I heard human footsteps, then animal footsteps. It can't be right. Unless, it's just that coincidental. Maybe the house is haunted. Maybe we've just been hearing ghost footsteps or something. But honestly, I don't know which makes more sense to me.

  Especially because Lenny sits on the floor in front of me.

  "What an amazing guard dog, you are," Riley says to Troy. "What if it was a robber?" He stares at her like he doesn't understand a word she's saying.

  I hate to admit that Riley is probably right. For a German Shepherd, Troy would probably be pretty useless if anything ever happened to us. Unless a cat was trying to attack us.

  I scratch my head. Did Troy know that Lenny was in here? Is that why he kept barking at me? Because he didn't want me to know that Lenny was down here? But what was Lenny doing down here in the first place? The answer: I have no freaking
clue.

  When we go back upstairs, I notice that Kendall and Casey's bedroom door is slightly open. Maybe they didn't close the door all the way and Lenny slipped through. The problem with that theory is that I thought the door was closed tight earlier.

  Deciding that I'm too tired to ponder it anymore, I wave it off and go back to bed.

  Riley takes her spot back on the bed, and I try to make the floor as comfortable as possible. Again.

  I make Lenny sleep in here, so I can keep an eye on him. The curious little rascal. He sleeps at Riley's feet, trying to make it seem as if he's a little angel. Suck up.

  I close my eyes. Today has been a long day. Tomorrow will probably be just as bad. I try not to worry about it too much. Instead, I think of nothing. And before I know it, I fall asleep.

  FOUR

  RILEY AND I sit down at the dining room table. I'm completely exhausted from lack of sleep. I notice by the droopy expression on Riley's face, that she's pretty tired as well.

  "You two look like you were hit by a bus or something," Derek says.

  "We didn't get much sleep last night," I reply.

  Derek shrugs and goes back to eating his pancakes.

  I remember why we were up in the first place. "Hey, when y'all go to bed tonight, please make sure that y'all close the door good," I tell the twins.

  They look at me like I'm weird. "Why?" Casey asks.

  "So, Lenny won't be running around the house in the middle of the night."

  Kendall gets defensive. "Why are you telling us this? We close the door every night when we go to bed."

  "I know you do. I'm just saying, to make sure the door is closed good."

  Kendall gives up on arguing with me. "Okay. We will. But why?"

  "Because last night y'all didn't, and Lenny was in the kitchen. I guess he was looking for food."

  My dad finishes his coffee and gazes down at the dogs. "Alright, boys. I'm gonna go retrieve my keys and then we're leaving."

  I kneel in front of Troy and stroke the top of his head. "I'm sorry, boy. I know you don't wanna go to the vet, but you have to." He looks at me like he understands every word I'm saying. But of course, I know he doesn't.

 

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