I turned in his arms and put a hand on his neck. The ache for his blood burned in my throat. “I watched you fight those awful boys, and one shot you.” His hands tightened. I continued. “I watched you become a vampire.”
He winced and pushed my head against his chest. “Shush. You’ve had a traumatizing day.”
I forced my head up. “No. Don’t shush me. I’m telling you I saw… her. The queen. She’s the one who changed you.” I wasn’t sure how I knew but the fact remained, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind I’d seen the face of the Vampire Queen.
He shook his head dismissively, his gorgeous hazel eyes hooded and his lips pursed in a smirk.
His attitude angered me, aroused me. I wanted him, his blood, the way the queen took it. And before I could think further I lunged at him, sinking my now extended, needle sharp teeth into his warm, inviting throat.
He moaned, his arms encircling me more tightly.
Chapter 9
“We can discuss it later. Right now you’re supposed to be at Adam Henry’s.” Christopher said. My face was cupped between his hands. He kissed me gently and continued, “I’ll wait here until you get back, okay?”
I nodded. “You’d better,” I returned.
We were standing in my kitchen. My body was back to normal, and my lust for blood satisfied.
“It’ll be my turn when you get back,” he said, his voice low, husky, his thumbs stroking my neck. My stomach quivered in anticipation.
“I’d like that.” I turned to leave, but remembered the wooden bear. Opening my hand, I was slightly shocked to see I still had it. Most of it was covered in burgundy, almost black. His dried blood.
“What are you doing? Why aren’t you—” He stopped and inhaled. “Where did you get that?”
I turned. “I told you I was there.”
He crumbled, sagging to his knees. “How?”
I kneeled in front of him. “I don’t know how or why, or even where I was, only that you were there and, after she and the others left with you, I picked this up.” I held my hand out. “For you.” He took it between his first finger and his thumb.
“Thank you,” he said, his eyes watery. Seconds later he’d pulled me into an embrace, his arms crushing me to him. “You have no idea what this means,” he whispered against my hair.
The force of his words, the ache and urgency, caused me to tremble. “You’re welcome, Christopher.”
As quickly as he hugged me he released me.
“Go. We have a lot to talk about when you get back.” He stood and pulled me with him.
“Okay, but… stay down here. No snooping.” I didn’t want him to see my child’s room.
“What don’t you want me to find?” he asked, planting a swift kiss on my mouth.
Gatsby made an appearance and started howling, winding between Christopher’s legs and then mine.
“Make yourself useful and feed my cat,” I said in mock irritation. He quirked a brow, and I added, “Just don’t go in my room.”
“Fine. No snooping.” He swatted my butt. “Hurry. The sooner you get there, the sooner you’ll be back.”
I yelped, my cheeks hot. “Alright.” I left, running at lightning speed over to Professor Pops’ house without tripping once.
Oh yeah, better than ever, I thought happily.
When I knocked on the door to Professor Pops’ house, Daniel answered immediately. “Bout time, Snow. Gabe’s been chomping at the bit.”
“Gabe?” I questioned, my voice not my own as fear clutched my chest. “I-I thought Dorian was training me today.”
“Change of plans. You better get down there.”
“Right, thanks Daniel.” I hurried past him, jogging down the stairs, past the Museum of the Supernatural and into the room filled with weapons. Gabe’s angry gaze found mine and slammed my feet to a stop.
“Where were you?”
“Hey, chill, bossy pants. I’m here now,” I giggled, releasing some nervous energy.
His expression softened. “Sorry. I was worried.” He held the longer sword—what had Professor Pops called it?—a katana, in one hand. Gabe came around and stood extra close so that his body hugged mine. “Let’s begin.” He took my right hand and placed the sword in it. I bit my cheek, nervous about his nearness.
He doesn’t want you. He doesn’t want you. He doesn’t want you, my inner voice chanted rudely.
“Your heart is beating so fast. Are you… craving my blood?” His face was so close to mine; I could feel his five o’clock shadow, not to mention the increased beating of his heart. And I realized he was scared.
Of me.
That knowledge hurt.
“No, I’m nervous about being so close to the blade,” I lied.
He swallowed, a loud gulping of his fear. Why choose to train me if he was afraid?
Gabe might as well shove that pointy thing in your heart, my inner voice quipped snootily.
For once I agreed whole-heartedly.
Stepping away, I turned. “How about you demonstrate the correct way to hold it and I’ll copy you?”
I watched his jaws clench. He nodded. “Spread your feet shoulder’s width apart.”
I did as he said.
“Now bend your knees.”
As I bent them, he walked over and set the sword on the counter, then came over to me.
Yeah, it’s just me. Your best friend. Sheesh! Scowling, I said, “Like this?”
He smacked me on the butt. “Tuck that under, and hold in your lower abdomen.”
I tried to do as he said, but it felt weird.
“Come on, Snow. It’s not that difficult,” he growled.
Anger snapped to attention and bloomed like a rose in my chest. How dare he be so rude? “I’ve never done anything like this before, so forgive me if I’m not a pro in two point five seconds, Gabriel.”
“Well, hello there, Snowflake.” He smirked, and I realized he was goading me.
He picked up his sword and took another off the wall, handing it to me. I took it and glared.
“During battle anger is good, necessary in fact, but it must be controlled.” He’d started to circle me and my senses heightened. I copied the way he held his blade and followed him. “If you can learn to control your anger, you’ll be a force to reckon with.”
I snorted. “What about tripping over my feet?”
He stopped. “C’mon, Snow. This is serious. You’ve got to be prepared. The Hunter is working to make sure you become the next queen. And others,” he waved his unarmed hand upward, “are planning your demise.”
At his words the poisonous arrow Christopher pulled from my leg crossed my thoughts.
Gabe’s right, my inner voice scolded.
“Ugh. Fine,” I snapped. “Stop chitchatting and show me what to do!”
Chapter 10
After an hour and a half of training I finally started to get the hang of how to stand with my butt and stomach tucked in. I figured out how to hold the blade correctly—not too tight, not too soft—and how to move with more agility. I didn’t stumble or cut myself once. Even Gabe had been impressed.
By the time we finished Gabe lightened up, and though the training was intense I felt like, on a personal level, he and I were better. Maybe back to being friends.
“Good job, Snowflake,” he said, placing the blades on the wall. “You surprise me.”
“Gee, thanks,” I replied, my voice thick with sarcasm, but the compliment made me lightheaded.
He tossed a white hand towel at me. I caught it and patted my forehead. The front of Gabe’s grey shirt clung to his flat stomach. His arms and neck glistened with sweat. I’d worked just as hard as he had, but I hardly perspired.
You’re a revenant now. Get over yourself, my inner voice muttered.
The thought made me smile. Yes. I. Am!
Gabe lifted a brow, questioning my sudden, silly grin. He draped the towel around his neck and hung on. Even sweaty he was hot. “I’ve got to hit the books,
so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
My smile deflated. “Oh, okay. Later.”
As he walked by he patted my arm.
Great, back to awkward, I thought, containing my sigh. I followed him out and Gabe locked the door.
“I’ll be by to take you to school in the morning,” he said, sounding odd. I wanted to shake him, forcefully require him to get over his weirdness and bring back my best friend, Gabe. Instead I waved to his retreating back.
After he left, I browsed around the Museum of the Supernatural, casually checking out each creature, but I’d already decided which one I wanted to research first.
The Hunter.
I hadn’t forgotten the look on Christopher’s face when he saw the carved bear. It’d been filled with a mixture of excitement, fear, and joy. That had to mean something, didn’t it? I wanted to see if the answers to my questions, including my finding a token belonging to Christopher before he’d turned, could finally be available.
I opened the drawer next to the statue of a vampire Hunter, pulled out the book, and placed it on the strange podium in the center of the room.
“Chapter one,” I said, and the pages flipped until they reached the correct page. On the facing page was a fully colored picture of a young man. He looked to be of Asian descent, with deep olive skin, black eyes, and long, black hair. He posed regally in a navy blue robe decorated with intricate designs. He seemed familiar. Something about the eyes. Under the picture was a caption: Kenmei Yamata.
“Kenmei,” I murmured, and started to read.
Before the time of man, vampires ruled the earth. They lived in harmony with all creatures both great and small: the trolls, and the goblins, the pixies, and the pixilettes. The dragons of the air and of the sea. The griffin and the mermaid. The elf and the dwarf.
After a thousand years, one vampire rose up from the rest, her magic more powerful than all others. She was beautiful, the most beautiful in the land. Creatures fell at her feet to worship her.
She was also greedy, hungry for power, her heart filled with enmity. She subjected others to her authority and became the Vampire Queen.
But there were those who resisted, and war broke out. Both sides suffered abundant losses. In the end the Vampire Queen and her followers were forced into hiding.
Then came the time of man.
Discovering their usefulness, the queen created the first Hunter.
“Kenmei was the first Hunter,” I whispered, remembering the conversation between Professor Pops, Kenmei, and me.
“That’s right,” Professor Pops said, and I jumped. I hadn’t heard him come in.
Recovering, I closed the book. “So vampires lived before humans?” I asked, swallowing. “They didn’t start out human?”
“If by human you mean like we are now, then no.” He shook his head, moving closer to the book. “Appendix A,” he said. The book quietly flipped toward the back, its pages stirring the air with the smell of old paper. When it stopped, I unconsciously withered away from the pictures on the page, finding it difficult to grasp what I saw.
“What are those things?” I finally asked. The creatures had dark and hairy bodies. Their arms and legs were the same length, similar in proportion to an ape. Large, pointy claws extended from their appendages and spreading from their backs were sets of glittering, web-like wings. That wasn’t even the oddest part. Their heads were human, covered in smooth skin the color of a baby fawn.
Cherubic, my inner voice said.
Yes. That was the word, cherubic. The faces of angels. Each one seemed more attractive, more exquisite than the one before. The eye colors ranged from blue, to violet, to yellow, to orange. The hair growing from their heads matched their eye color, as did their lips.
“Those, Snow, are what vampires looked like in the beginning.”
“They’re creepy, yet somehow… regal. It’s weird.”
Professor Pops chuckled, and the warmth of his laugh calmed me. “I understand.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “That’s enough for today. Why don’t you head on home? Gabe said you did well during training.”
“He did?” Maybe he was more comfortable with me than I thought.
“Yes, he did. Now get some rest and I’ll see you after school.”
“Okay. Plus, I’ve got a lot of homework to do.” Christopher flashed across my mind and my legs turned to mush. I wanted him. Jogging toward the door, I stopped before heading up the stairs and said, “See ya, Professor Pops.”
“One moment.”
“Yes,” I said, turning.
His countenance changed to sadness, or maybe it was concern. “As your Protector, I’m here for you. No matter what. You understand that, right?”
Did he somehow know what I was doing with my Hunter? I hoped not. How humiliating. I didn’t want to discuss that—my feelings—with him or anyone else.
Thankful for the low lighting in the room, I gulped. “Yes, thank you. It’s good to hear the words. I’ll remember.”
His tense face calmed. “Good.” He rubbed his fingers against his jawline, making a scratching sound. “And…” he paused, and I stopped breathing. Did he expect us to talk now? I couldn’t. No way.
But I didn’t need to worry. His uneasiness was replaced with joy. “Have you had a chance to look through the dresses? Did you notice the red one near the back? That’s the one I’d pick for you.”
Confused, I racked my brain to figure out what he meant. Then I remembered the book of dresses from Vera Wang. Ohhhhhh. I hadn’t spotted a red dress, but then I hadn’t gone through the entire book yet. I wanted to tell him the red dress would be perfect just to get the whole ordeal over with. I did not understand fashion. But, if Cindy found out I’d had an exclusive book full of couture dresses and hadn’t let her look through it, well, my life would be over.
“Near the back?” I repeated, placing a foot on the bottom step.
“That’s right.”
“I’ll be sure to check it out and let you know in the next couple of days. Will that be okay?”
“Of course.” Professor Pops waved me away and I took the remaining stairs two at a time.
On my way out of the house I said good-bye to five of the seven brothers. Dorian and Gabe weren’t around, which reminded me that I hadn’t heard from Cindy since chemistry. I really hoped she was okay.
In the brisk night air I glanced at the stars, each one so bright, like the moon. Inhaling, I tried to calm myself. The thought of being alone with Christopher did things to me—to my heart and low in my belly. Without thought I started to cross our yards, hurrying through the thick trees and brush. When I reached the stairs leading up to my back porch, I noticed several lights in the house turned on—upstairs, too. He’d snooped.
What are you up to? I thought, my heart skipping several beats.
Flinging open the door, I hollered, “I’m back, Chri—”
For a moment, I think my heart stopped. Sitting at the dining room table were my dad and stepmother.
“Hello, dear,” my stepmother said, a cruel smile lifting her lips. “Surprise.”
Blood Soaked Promises 1.4
Chapter 1
“Dad. Vivianne. You’re home.” I wanted to rush over and hug my dad, but my stepmother’s scowl held me in place.
“Hi, Snow-Angel,” dad said slowly, clearing his throat. He looked good, more in shape, though he still dressed like an undercover TV cop—Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and socks with sandals. He was tan with natural blond streaks in his otherwise dark hair. His face crinkled near his eyes from smiling. He and my stepmother sat across the dining table from each other, dozens of bags piled between them.
Gatsby darted from under the table and wound around my legs, yowling for his dinner.
“Don’t you feed him? He’s too skinny,” Vivianne said. She wore a pair of white shorts and a light blue tank. One tanned leg was crossed over the other, and her wedge-sandaled foot bounced rhythmically. She seemed a lot younger than my dad, closer
to my age than his. Not a single wrinkle marred her perfect complexion. Each dark brown hair on her head rested in place.
“Of course I do: twice a day, every day.” I grabbed Gatsby’s kibble from under the sink and poured some into his bowl, then filled his water. Finished, I went over to my dad, who shuffled his feet awkwardly near the counter, and hugged him. “How was your trip?” I asked, stepping back.
Vivianne came over and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Good. We’re only here a short time. Then it’s back to work.” She hooked a finger in my shirt. “Why do you insist on wearing boy clothes?” She’d said boy as though it tasted like acid on her tongue.
I pulled away. “They’re comfortable.”
She balked, walking over to the table. As she dug through the bags, I eyed my dad. “You have to leave again so soon?”
“Not for a few weeks. By the time we go, you’ll be sick of us.” He hugged me again and I inhaled his sandalwood aftershave, the fragrance filling me with comfort.
Dad was sort of a mogul, I guess. Cindy said our family had more money than God. I’d done an Internet search on my dad once and discovered he owned a private jet, kept a building in Boston, and owned several vacation resorts all over the world. But I’d never seen his offices, been to one of his resorts, flown on one of his planes, or, well… felt rich. Dad didn’t act like a wealthy man. Didn’t dress like one either.
Our house, hidden by trees, resided in a pretentious neighborhood. Built in the early eighteen hundreds, it was one of the smallest on the block. Mansions, like Professor Pops’ house, were built up around our little cottage. And then there was my stepmother’s strange love of all things fairytale. The inside could be mistaken for a gift shop rather than a multimillionaire’s residence.
Dad had been around more before my mom died. Now he rarely stayed home longer than a few weeks at a time.
“I could never get sick of you. I miss you when you’re gone,” I whispered. No doubt I’d be sick of Vivianne, but certainly not my dad. I loved him. When he was around I felt content and happy. Hugging him tighter, I swallowed a sigh.
Vivianne cleared her throat. “How’s track going? Won any races yet?” Her expression was one of amusement and I bit back a retort.
“Not yet, maybe soon.” I shrugged. My dad and stepmother weren’t around enough to know whether I’d grown less klutzy or not.
“Really? You’ve figured out how to put one foot in front of the other without tripping?”
Blood and Snow 1 Page 12
