“Ariel, I was serious when I said you need to be very careful with this research. We can’t risk being discovered. There are some very bad guys out there.”
Who was she trying to talk to about bad guys?
“Don’t worry, Momma. I’m being careful. The only people who know what I’m researching are Jill, Mr. Charles, Malia, and Bridge—and they all think it’s for my paper. And since Mr. Charles was the one who suggested I go with an occult theme, it was the perfect cover.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I dunno, Mom. Isn’t the ‘surprise, you’re a descendant of an evil vampire clan’ enough of a reason? It’s bad enough that I’m worried I could’ve killed Noah, but then, thanks to Auntie Tave’s vision, or lack thereof, it seems highly probable I did kill him. And you’re not full-blooded Serpentine, so the only thing you can do is give me more answerless questions. And Dad, well, he’s nowhere to be found, and I couldn’t trust him, anyway. So, that leaves me with two options: Find Dad and ask him these questions and risk everyone’s necks, or do some good old-fashioned research on my own.”
“About Noah,” Momma said, patting the bed beside her.
Uh-oh. I had to be really careful here. Mom couldn’t find out Noah was a dichamp. Not yet. He was very clear that he couldn’t touch me, but all bets were off when it came to my family. If I told Mom, I had no doubt he would suck them lifeless. I couldn’t risk that.
I sat next to Mom and she put her arm around me. “We got the test results back today. It definitely was not Serpentine venom.”
Relief crashed through me like a flash flood. I had tried not to dwell on the possibility that I had done that to Noah, but honestly, when you’re being stalked by the evil undead, it’s kinda hard not to think about it.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Serpentine venom is a lot like a fingerprint. It contains certain markers that are unique to the vampire it belongs to. It’s pretty much venomous DNA.”
“But if I didn’t kill Noah, what did?”
“Believe it or not—a snake. Actually, the venom in his system is extremely rare and hasn’t been seen in this area for a very long time. They have experts combing the O’Reily farm looking for the snake.”
I sighed. I knew for a fact that wasn’t true. But God knows I couldn’t tell Mom.
And I had to know about the prophecy; I had to try to understand what was in my history and how I was connected to these documents. After today’s episode, there was no doubt I was connected somehow.
Who had done that to Noah and why was he after me? Why me?
“Mom, will you be mad at me if I don’t stop my research?”
She smiled. It was warm, but touched with a little sadness. “Would you stop if I asked you to?”
“Honestly? No.”
“I didn’t think so. But please don’t trust anyone. You need to be very discreet. It’s way too important that we stay hidden.”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want the Serpentines to discover our location or the PTA to discover our fangs.”
She chuckled and kissed my forehead before she stood to leave. “AJ, we’ve tried to have a family dinner all week and have failed miserably. This has been a terrible week for everyone. So I need you to promise me you’ll be here tomorrow night.”
“I will. What time?”
“Seven.”
“Done. Mom, can I have permission to work with Mr. Charles while I’m suspended from school? I promise I’ll just go to his classroom and back home. He’s got some ancient texts that he’s helping me decipher for my thesis.”
“Okay. But please, please be careful. Don’t trust anyone.”
Careful was my middle name.
“One more question,” I said as she started to leave. “Is there any way possible that Noah could’ve been bitten by a non-Serpentine vampire? Could he have, you know, been turned?” Of course, I knew the answer to this, but I wanted to hear her theory.
“Honey, are you worried about that because his body is missing?” she asked.
I nodded.
“The evening news reported that the funeral home he was sent to is under investigation for cremating bodies when the family asked for closed casket services. Apparently they’re running a scam where they cremate the bodies, sell them multi-thousand-dollar coffins and plots, but bury empty pine boxes. They make a mint off their deception.”
“That’s terrible!” And convenient.
“Bad people are everywhere, not just in the vampire world,” she said.
Mom left, shutting the door behind her.
I was about to put on my pj’s when there was another knock at my door. “Did you forget something, Mom?” I asked as I opened it.
Ryan stood there with sad, puppy-dog eyes.
“Go away.” I tried to close the door, but he was way too quick with his foot.
“AJ, can we talk? Please?”
“No. We tried to talk earlier, but that turned into tongue ‘rasslin’. And since that is never gonna happen again, we can’t talk.”
“I promise I’ll keep my tongue to myself.”
“I don’t care where you keep your tongue,” I lied. I totally cared. I wanted him to keep his tongue in my mouth and away from that soul-sucking void of a human he was currently “not really dating.”
“Please, AJ?”
“What the hell do you have to say to me? I can’t be near you, Ryan. I let my guard down with you. I trusted you and then you chased after her? Acting like our kiss was a mistake? So I’m stopping it before it gets started again. Sorry, but I can’t be your friend right now. And I certainly can’t watch you be with her.”
“I just wanted to apologize. Again,” he said. “I miss you so much, and today in the kitchen, well, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Well, I hate that for ya, but from now on, resistance is not an option; it’s mandatory. Good night, Ryan.”
I kicked his shin. He jerked his leg back with a yelp, and I closed and locked the door.
He was still there, on the other side. I could feel him. I leaned my cheek and my palm against the cool wood and closed my eyes and listened to him breathe. I allowed myself to imagine he was mirroring me, and then I felt him—his warmth, his heart—reach out through the solid door and flow into me.
In that moment, he wasn’t my stepbrother—he was just the boy I loved.
Too bad that moment couldn’t last forever.
Chapter 19
Dear AJ,
I thought you might find this book of significance to your research. It’s an old English interpretation of the Serpentine Scrolls and something called the Frieceadan Runes of Destiny. I think you’ll find the text very interesting. I had never heard of the Runes before, but it seems they are intimately connected with the Scrolls. The Guardians of the Runes were eradicated two centuries ago by the Serpentines. Anyway, read this. Maybe you’ll find another path to take for your paper.
Good luck,
Jill
She was right. It was totally interesting. So much so that I stayed up all night reading it.
According to the text, there was once a group of magical people known as Frieceadan Druids. The women were “Mother Earth.” They were gardeners, cooks, midwives, and healers. They had a talent for potions; they could manipulate the elements and had the greenest thumbs in the world, and though they had some use of magic, they couldn’t cast spells. That wasn’t the case for the men in the clan. They had all the power (isn’t that always the way?). They not only had the earthly and elemental abilities the women had, they also could cast spells, do incantations, and, according to the lore, some could see into the future. Crescent moon birthmarks signified their magical status and no Frieceadan woman had ever been born with the mark. (What is it with birthmarks and paranormal beings, anyway?)
It was the “seeing into the future” part that got them into trouble. At one time, the Serpentines were allied with the Frieceadans, but it wasn’t long before a small group of Serpen
tines began to make noise about tainted blood and losing power to the warlocks. This was all because one of the Frieceadan seers predicted the birth of a mixed-blood child whose blood would be the anti-serum for the Serpentine venom. This child would bear the mark of both clans and its blood would effectively render the Serpentines powerless.
The seer inscribed his predictions into what is now known as the Serpentine Scrolls and the Runes of Destiny. I guess he was the warlock version of Nostradamus.
But the druids had very firm laws against recording their predictions in writing. It was considered an unhallowed practice, so it was strictly forbidden. So once the prophecy passed from oral to written, many in the Serpentine clan became fearful. A small, noisy group ousted the leaders and created their own laws.
In order to protect the prediction, and ultimately their destinies, the leaders of both races formed a high council and placed the runes under the protection of the Frieceadans, and the scrolls with the Serpentines.
The new clan elders did everything in their power to prevent the birth of this prophesied child, which meant not only killing off all the Frieceadan Warlocks but eliminating those who tried to leave the clan. And if anyone bearing the mark of the Serpentine couldn’t be brought into the folds of the clan, they would meet a fate worse than death: They would be turned.
It almost made me understand why Dad went back to them. I shuddered.
Being bitten by another vamp was the absolute worst punishment a genetically born vampire could face. It basically drains you of your human side, turning you into a dichampyr. Once turned, you’re under the command of your creator until you become strong enough to release yourself or he deems you worthy of freedom. But there’s nothing freeing about living a dichamp’s powerless and feral existence.
The fact that the Serpentines would do this to their own kind told me more than I ever wanted to know about my family tree.
This family history of mine was not looking so swell. These were not stories I would want to tell my grandkids one day. “Don’t worry, kids, we can’t help that we’re evil. We were just born that way.”
The book went on to say that annihilating the Frieceadans to block the child prophecy actually worked against the Serpentines because the runes held a key to something greater than the prediction in the scrolls. When the elders learned this, they wanted the runes, but the secret hiding place had died with the last guardian. Seems the Serpentines had cut off their own nose to spite their face.
I rubbed my temples, trying to absorb all the information. A dull pain worked its way from my head down to my neck. I needed a massage. Preferably one given by a big, bulky dude name Sven with a penchant for necks.
Not biting them—rubbing them. Sheesh.
It was five A.M. and I hadn’t slept a wink. I was totally amped up on caffeine, bloodsicles, and wicked family history. I lifted the shade to allow the sunrise to filter in. Noah was still out there. I’d felt him all night, though he never seemed to come near the house. He stayed on the perimeter of our property, prowling and sneering and generally trying to get into my head. Yet for once, I never felt unsafe, only uneasy.
I was dying to call Bridget, but since (a) it was too early to call anyone and (b) I wasn’t talking to Bridget right now, there was no reason to.
But I had to talk to someone.
I decided to throw on a pair of shorts, a tank, and running shoes, grab my iPod, and hit the pavement until it was a decent hour. Then I’d call Malia.
I left a note in the kitchen in case Mom thought I was skipping out on my house arrest. All I was missing was an ankle bracelet. Hell, it probably wouldn’t be too long before those things became part of a mandatory parenting kit.
This morning, I took the route I would’ve driven to school. I jogged past Bridget’s house, which was still dark inside. All the while, Noah kept pace with me, sometimes running, sometimes jumping from tree to tree. His laughter echoed through my headphones, so I pumped up the volume and kept on running. I didn’t know exactly why he was keeping his distance, but I had my suspicions that he wasn’t allowed too close to me. Whoever had turned him controlled him. Noah was a youngling in the vampire world—he wasn’t strong enough yet to break free.
He can’t hurt you. They need you.
When the words popped into my head, I stopped short.
This voice was different. It wasn’t like the voices in the scrolls—it felt safe, familiar in a way. And frankly, while I was being stalked by the undead, I would take any reassurance I could get. I figured if the voice was wrong and Noah broke away from his master, then I’d have to protect myself the old-fashioned way—fighting fang-to-fang.
Strangely, now that I knew Noah was not a product of my imagination or guilt, I wasn’t nearly as frightened. Plus, my voice told me he couldn’t hurt me. People always tell you to go with your gut, right?
Okay, maybe I was just being stupid. Whatever. He was keeping his distance and that was really all that mattered.
At this hour, most houses were still dark, except for the few inhabited by old people who got up at four to read the paper and drink their first gallon of coffee.
As I ran, I pondered the new information that Jill had sent me. According to the book, the Serpentines were scared of losing their power. They had done everything they could to prevent the birth of the child whose blood would be their Kryptonite. But blocking the prophecy hadn’t been enough. Now they needed the runes because they held the key to something bigger.
If all the Frieceadans had been eliminated, then how could the Serpentines find the runes? Were they actively searching for them and, if so, why now? I suppose it was possible that the Frieceadans hadn’t been wiped out, but then wouldn’t there be some mention of them somewhere? Surely there would at least be a rumor of their existence?
As I rounded the corner by the school, the sun peeked over the horizon and the sky began to fade to that unnamable shade of grayish purple. I kicked up my pace through the parking lot, down the alley behind the science building, and crossed over to Lake Drive, which would take me past Malia’s house on my way back to mine. Maybe she’d be up and at it when I jogged by.
Or maybe not.
I sighed and slowed as I approached the lifeless house. I thought grandmothers were always up early. There goes my theory that the mandatory four A.M. rise time came automatically with your first grandchild.
Suddenly the air around me seemed to get lighter and I knew Noah was gone again. I was getting used to his angry and persistent presence, so it was quite noticeable when he wasn’t around. It was like having a boulder lifted off my shoulders.
I stood on the small porch. Well, I could just knock on the door. It was six o’clock, and Malia would have to get up for school pretty soon, anyway. What difference would thirty minutes make?
I lightly rapped on the screen door. I don’t know why I was so nervous. I guess it was probably because I hadn’t seen Grandma Gervase since she took Malia away from us after her parents died. Grandma G. had always been a crotchety old woman; maybe knocking this early hadn’t been such a great idea.
Just when I had talked myself into walking away, the door creaked open until the chain caught.
“Who’s there?” an old woman barked.
“Um, Grandma Gervase? It’s AJ Ashe, Malia’s friend?”
“The roosters ain’t up yet and you’re knocking on my door? What’s wrong with you, girl?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll call Malia later.”
“Never mind now,” she said. “Damage is already done. I’ll send her out.”
I sat down on the stoop with my head in my hands. I had let my excitement over this Frieceadan stuff wash away any common sense I once owned.
The door opened behind me, but I didn’t even want to turn and look. Malia carried out two cups of coffee, handed me one, and sat beside me.
“You’re an idiot,” she said with a laugh. “And what’s that smell?” She sniffed and scooted away from me.
I took a drink. “Mmmm. God, I needed this.” Then I sniffed my pits. “I don’t smell that bad.”
“Whatever. So what’s going on? I’m assuming there’s a reason you’re here at this forsaken hour, risking life and limb in waking up the dead?”
“Oh, yeah. There’s a reason. You won’t believe what I discovered last night.”
I told her everything (leaving out the detail that Noah isn’t quite dead). As I delved deeper into the tale, her face changed from sleepy but tolerant to total fascination.
“AJ, you have to tell Mr. Charles!” she said.
“I will. I figured you could just give him an update at school today and then afterward we could meet.”
“No way. We’re telling him now.” She jumped up and opened the door. “I’m gonna run in, change, and brush the funk from my mouth, then we’re going to drive straight to Mr. Charles’s place.”
“Malia, we can’t do that.” I mean, technically, we could. Mr. Charles lived just a couple of blocks away. But still, just because we could didn’t mean we should.
“Oh yes we can. This is important. I’ll be right back. I’d invite you in, but given Grandma’s current mood…” she said.
“Fine, I’ll wait. But if he gets pissy with us, you’re taking all the blame.”
It was six-thirty when Malia pulled into Mr. Charles’s driveway.
“This is not a good idea,” I said for the umpteenth time.
“What are you afraid of?” Malia asked as she rang the doorbell.
“First of all, what if he had an overnight guest? We would be interrupting.”
“Then we’d have some good gossip,” she said.
“Malia, you’re impossible.”
Mr. Charles answered the door wearing a pair of running shorts and a short-sleeved Under Armour shirt. Yum.
“Ladies, what are you doing here? This is highly unusual. It had better be important.”
“It’s very important,” Malia said. “AJ made a really cool discovery last night, Mr. Charles. Apparently the Serpentine Scrolls are somehow connected to the Fri—what were they called?” she asked, turning to me.
Bite Me! Page 13
