Beth_Fantaskey-Jessicas guide to dating the dark side.

by Jessica's Guide to Dating the Dark Side (lit)

  "Yeah?"

  "Are you going to the carnival?" My heart was thudding so hard that I was afraid I wouldn't catch his answer. "Because I was thinking maybe we could . . . you know, go together."

  He paused. "Well, I really wasn't sure—"

  Oh, no. Even half deaf, I heard the hesitation in his voice. He was turning me down. I knew it. It's the Chucks. It has to be the Chucks. Or the five pounds. . . "Oh, I understand," I inter­rupted, cheeks on fire. "It's no big deal."

  "No, wait—"

  "Hey, Packrat!" A heavy arm thumped down around my shoulders, and I found myself cheek-to-cheek with Frank Dormand, who was hanging on me, a slimy grin on his fat face. Horrified, I tried to slip free, but Frank held tight, giving me a little shake. "Did I just hear you asking Jake here to the carni­val? What's up with that?"

  "Stop it, Frank," I begged, clutching my books to my chest. "This is none of your business."

  "Yeah, Frank," Jake said. "Leave it alone."

  Frank rumpled my curls. "Oh, you crazy kids."

  I tried to push his hand away and smooth my hair, but I was so flustered that I dropped my books from my hot, wet hands. My homework crashed to the floor, my papers scatter­ing everywhere. "Get lost, Frank," I pleaded, furious. It was one thing to call out a quick taunt in the cafeteria, but he went too far this time. . . .

  Frank winked at Jake. "So what's it gonna be, Jake? Are you going to take the Packrat? Because rumor has it that she's get­ting it on with that foreign undertaker who lives in her garage. You are boffing him, right, Jess?"

  I twisted under Dormand's arm, trying again to pull away, when suddenly I was liberated. Because Frank was pinned against a locker, his throat in the grip of a calm but very deter­mined Romanian exchange student.

  Frank's heels banged metal. "Hey!"

  But Lucius only hoisted Frank a little higher. "Gentlemen don't ask women impertinent questions about delicate sub­jects." His voice was even, almost bored. "And they never, ever use crude expressions in mixed company. Not unless they're ready to face the consequences."

  "Lucius, no!" I cried.

  "Let go," Frank sputtered, his face turning as red as mine. He clawed futilely at Lucius's grip as a crowd gathered in the hall. "You're choking me, man."

  "Let him go, Lucius," I begged, watching Frank turn from red to blue. "He's suffocating!"

  Lucius eased his grip, allowing Frank to touch the floor with his toes but keeping him firmly contained. "Tell me what you want me do with him, Jessica," Lucius urged, over his shoulder. "Name the punishment. I shall deliver it."

  "Nothing, Lucius!" I said, face flaming even brighter. He isn't my bodyguard. "It's not your fight!"

  "No," Lucius agreed. "It is my pleasure." He turned his at­tention back to Frank, who had ceased struggling and remained flattened, motionless, against the locker, eyes bulging. "You will pick up the young lady's books, hand them to her nicely, and apologize," Lucius ordered. "Then we will go outside and con­clude our business."

  He dropped Frank, who slumped forward, gasping for air.

  "I'm not fighting you." Frank wheezed, rubbing his neck.

  "It will be a lesson, not a fight," Lucius promised. "And when I am finished, you will not bother Jessica again."

  I shared a worried glance with Jake, who stood by, silent, wary.

  "We were just goofing around," Frank complained.

  Lucius glared, drawn up to his full six-foot-plus height. He seemed to fill the hallway. "Where I come from, causing a woman distress isn't amusing. I should have made that clear the other day. I will not miss another opportunity."

  "Where do you. come from?" Frank challenged, puffing his chest, a little bolder now that he could breathe. "Some of us are starting to wonder."

  "I come from civilization," Lucius retorted. "You wouldn't be familiar with the territory. Now pick up the books."

  Frank must have heard the final warning in Lucius's low snarl, because he bent and did as he was told, muttering the whole time. He shoved the books into my hands and started to slink away. Lucius grabbed him again. "You forgot to apologize."

  "I'm sorry," Frank said through gritted teeth.

  Lucius gave Dormand a little shove. "Now let's go outside."

  "Lucius," I said, grabbing his arm. The muscles were rigid beneath my fingers. He'd destroy flabby Dormand, who couldn't do ten push-ups if his life depended on it. "Stop it. Now."

  Lucius stared down at me. "You are worth this, Jessica. He will not disrespect you. Not in my presence."

  "You can't do that here . . . not like that," I warned. "This isn't Romania." This isn't your family, with whatever brutal rules they enforced. "You've taken it too far."

  We stared at each other for a long moment. Then Lucius glanced at Frank. "Get out of here. And feel fortunate that you have a reprieve. Because you won't get another, no matter what Jessica wishes."

  "Freak," Frank muttered. But he hurried into the crowd, which melted away behind him, leaving only Lucius, Jake, and me. Jake started to backpedal, too, but Lucius wasn't quite finished.

  "I believe you two were engaged in conversation. Please. Finish."

  "We're done," I promised, pushing Lucius away. He held his ground, without taking his eyes off Jake.

  "Is that true?" Lucius asked Jake. "Were you finished?"

  "I . . . we were talking about. .." Jake shuffled, glancing at his feet. "Look, Jess, I'll talk to you later."

  "It's okay, Jake, I understand. Please—you don't have to say anything else." The tears that had been forming in my eyes for about five minutes started to spill over.

  "Why is she crying?" Lucius demanded. "Did you say something to her?"

  Jake put up his hands. "No. I swear."

  "Just go, Lucius," I insisted.

  Lucius hesitated.

  "Please."

  He met my eyes. I saw sympathy in his gaze, and that was probably the worst part of the whole day. A total outcast feeling sorry for me. "As you wish," he said, and stepped back. But not before adding, "I'm watching you, too, Zinn."

  "Hey," Jake soothed when Lucius was out of earshot. "That was intense, huh?"

  I sniffled, wiping at my eyes. "Which part? When Lucius nearly killed Frank or threatened you?"

  "The whole thing."

  "I'm really sorry."

  "No, it's okay. Frank's a jerk. He deserved it."

  "The whole thing is so embarrassing."

  "Yeah. It kind of was."

  "Don't worry about the carnival," I said. "It was stupid of me to ask."

  "No, I was going to say yes." Jake stared down the hallway in the direction Lucius had departed. "Unless you guys are . . . together or something. I mean, that's the rumor. And Lucius seemed sort of. . . possessive, right there."

  "No," I kind of barked. "Lucius is not my boyfriend. More like a ... an overprotective big brother."

  "Well, he wouldn't try to plaster me against a locker if we go, would he? Because I could take him, but having seen him in action, I think it would be a hell of a fight," Jake said, only half joking, it seemed.

  "No, Lucius is harmless," I fibbed. If you don't count the fact that he thinks he's a warrior prince representing a semi-cannibalistic race of undead bat people.

  "Then I'll call you, okay?" Jake promised.

  "Great." I smiled then, almost forgetting that I'd just been crying.

  Jake started to walk away, then hesitated. "Jess?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I'm glad you asked me."

  "Me, too," I said, silently thanking Mindy and her faith in Cosmo and horoscopes as I turned away, grinning.

  -----------------------------

  Lucius was waiting for me outside the school, sitting on a low brick wall near the entrance. When he saw me, he hopped down and held out his hands for my books like he always did when he managed to track me down after school.

  "We missed the bus," Lucius pointed out. He didn't sound disappointed.

  "We can walk to Mom's office. She'l
l give us a ride." Grantley College was just a few minutes from the school.

  "Excellent idea." Lucius fell in step with me, and we headed toward the campus in the cool mid-autumn late afternoon. After a few moments of silence, he pulled a crisp linen monogrammed handkerchief from an inner pocket in his coat, hand­ing it to me. "Your face is tearstained."

  "Thanks," I said, accepting the handkerchief. I wiped at my cheeks and blew my nose. "Here," I said, handing it back.

  Lucius held up a hand, cringing. "You keep it. I beg you. I have others."

  "Thanks." I wadded up the handkerchief, trying to stuff it in my pocket.

  "My pleasure, Jessica." Lucius's gaze was trained far-off, his tone distracted. About a block later, he advanced slightly ahead of me, walking backward, bent over, searching my face. "That boy. . . that squatty Zinn ..."

  "What about Jake?" It was my turn to look away, focusing down the oak-lined street.

  "He's . . . he's someone you're honestly attracted to?"

  I crossed my arms over my chest, shrugging, kicking at a fallen acorn. "Oh, I don't know. I mean . . ."

  "Well, you're accompanying him to this gala everyone's talking about—"

  "It's a carnival. Like a party in the gym. Not a 'gala.' No­body says 'gala.' At least nobody at Woodrow Wilson."

  Lucius frowned. "Gala, carnival . . . regardless. You're courting?"

  Is that hurt in Lucius's eyes? Or just the usual darkness? "It's just one date, but yeah, I guess so," I admitted, not sure why I suddenly felt guilty. I had no reason to feel guilty. Just because Lucius believed we were engaged didn't make me a cheater, for crying out loud. But he kept staring, so I added lamely, "I hope that's not a problem. What with the pact and all."

  "I just find it hard to understand."

  "What?" This I had to hear. "I thought you knew everything."

  "He didn't even defend you." Lucius rubbed his chin, gen­uinely confused.

  I got a little defensive myself, on Jake's behalf. "Here, women defend themselves. Men don't have to fight for us. I told you—I can handle Dormand."

  "Not the way I can on your behalf. Not the way Zinn should have. Like it or not, you are bound by gender. You can swat at the fly, but I could crush him. Any honorable male would have stepped up."

  "Hey," I protested. "Jake has honor."

  "Not enough to protect you."

  "Oh, Lucius," I groaned. "Jake thinks you went totally overboard—and he's right."

  Lucius shook his head. "Then he didn't see your face."

  I didn't quite know what to say to that.

  We resumed walking in silence, Lucius reining in his big stride to match mine. He seemed even more distracted than before, a big frown on his face.

  We passed through the gates to the Grantley campus, head­ing toward Schreyer Hall, where Mom's office was. Suddenly Lucius brightened. "You do drive, don't you? Have a license?"

  "Well, yeah, sure. Why? Where do you want to go?" The blood bank?

  "I think I would like to buy some jeans," Lucius an­nounced. "Perhaps a T-shirt. And they're very rigid about wear­ing certain shoes in the gym. My Romanian soles break some sort of rule. Apparently I need shoes with a 'swoosh' on the side if I'm to continue playing basketball."

  I stopped in my tracks. "You want to buy regular clothes?"

  "No, I want to update my wardrobe in line with cultural norms," he corrected. "You do know how to get to these fa­mous 'outlets' I hear so much about, right?"

  I gasped, jamming one finger against Lucius's chest. "Wait right here. Don't move. I'll ask Mom if we can borrow the van." This I have to see.

  What in the world would Lucius Vladescu deem normal? And more importantly, how would a tall, imperious Romanian accustomed to wearing tailor-made black pants look in a pair of jeans?

  Chapter 16

  "HONESTLY, I DON'T KNOW how some of these stories got started," Lucius complained, adjusting the van's radio, probably looking for Croatian folk music but settling for clas­sical on the public station. "Hollywood, I suppose."

  I flipped to a pop station, just to irritate him. "So you don't think you can change into a bat?"

  Lucius turned down the music and shot me a look that said he was insulted. "Please. A bat? What self-respecting vampire would transfigure into a flying rodent? Would you become a skunk, even if you had the ability?"

  "No, I guess not." I braked for a traffic light. "Maybe once, just to see what it was like."

  "Well, vampires cannot transform into anything."

  "How about garlic? Does it repulse you?"

  "Only on someone's breath."

  "And stakes? Can you be killed with a stake?"

  "Anyone can be killed with a stake. But yes—that one is true. In fact, a stake through the heart is the only effective way to destroy a vampire."

  "Uh, yeah. Sure."

  "To save you time, I will add that we do not sleep in coffins. We do not sleep upside down. We, quite obviously, don't dis­integrate in sunlight. How could one live a practical, useful life that way?"

  "So far, being a vampire sounds pretty dull if you ask me."

  "At the risk of raising a bad subject—and again, my apologies—you didn't seem to think my fangs were dull the other evening. In fact, you reacted quite strongly to their sharpness."

  And to the feel of his hands, his body. . . Don't go there, Jess. "How did you do that? Did you have, like, a set of plastic teeth in your mouth?"

  Lucius shot me an incredulous look. "Plastic teeth? Did they look plastic?"

  "No," I admitted. "But dentures look real."

  "Dentures." He snorted. "Don't be absurd. Those were— are—my teeth. That is what vampires do. We grow fangs."

  "Do it now then." I steered the van onto Route 30, navi­gating traffic.

  "Oh, Jessica ... I don't think that's wise while you're driv­ing on a busy road. You quite panicked the other night."

  "You can't do it, can you?" I challenged. "Because it was a stupid trick, and you don't have your props."

  "Don't provoke me, Jessica. Not unless you really want me to do as you ask. Because I can, and I will."

  "Do it."

  "As you wish." Lucius turned toward me, bared his teeth, and I nearly ran off the road. Lucius grabbed the wheel, swerv­ing us back into place.

  "Holy shit." He'd done it again. He really had. I slid my gaze over, cautiously. The pointy teeth were gone. It's a trick. A trick. I wouldn't fall for it. Teeth were covered with enamel, one of the hardest substances in the body. Enamel couldn't shift or change. It was impossible, at the molecular level.

  "You really must get used to that," Lucius chided.

  "Do you buy the trick at, like, a magic shop?"

  "It's not a trick. Please stop using that word." Lucius drummed his fingers on the VW's vinyl passenger seat. I could tell he was getting frustrated again. "Vampiric transformation is a phenomenon. If you'd read the book I provided—"

  I groaned. "Oh, god, that thing." My unwanted copy of Growing Up Undead was still under my bed. I kept meaning to throw it out but somehow never got around to it. I didn't want to think about why.

  "Yes, 'that thing,'" Lucius said. "If you'd read the guide as you should you would know that male vampires gain the abil­ity to grow fangs at puberty. It happens when we're exceedingly angry. Or . . . aroused."

  "So you're saying 'fangs' are like an—" I started to say "erec­tion" like I said it every day of my life. But the truth was, I had never said that word out loud, and discovered that I couldn't do it then. But Lucius understood.

  "Yes. That. Precisely. Often kind of a tandem effect, if you understand my meaning. But it gets easy to control with prac­tice. And women can grow fangs, too, of course."

  "So why can't I do it if I'm supposedly such a big-time vam­pire?" Sooner or later, I would confound him with logic.

  But Lucius shot right back, "Women have to be bitten first, I need to bite you. It's a great privilege for a man to be his be­trothed's first bite
."

  "Don't start that betrothal talk again," I said seriously. Spot­ting the first entrance to the outlet mall, I made a quick turn. "Not even joking. We're done with that."