Chapter 20
As soon as I unlocked the door Gatsby was there, weaving between my feet and meowing like he was mortally wounded. “Hi, kitty. I know you’re hungry. Sorry, boy.” I scooped him up and scratched behind his ears the way he liked. Today he squirmed in my arms, unhappy. I put him down. “Okay. Okay.”
Grabbing his bowl, I filled it with kitty kibble and set it on the floor. He rushed over and started eating. I poured him some water, washed my hands, and snatched some almonds from the refrigerator to snack on while I did my homework.
In quick succession I got my math assignments done, conjugated my Spanish verbs, and studied for my chemistry and social studies quizzes. Then I made myself some whole-wheat pasta and watched the latest episode of Survivor. Gatsby jumped on the couch and into my lap. I was glad he’d forgiven me for ignoring him the last few days.
Around ten o’clock I went to my room, washed my face, and changed into my flowered flannel pajamas. Once I was in bed and Gatsby had situated himself near my feet, I turned off the light and closed my eyes.
Immediately I was whisked away into the other realm. Her realm. I stood on a balcony in a large white castle. From my position I could see the beautiful countryside. It was dusk. The descending sun bathed the landscape in twinkling light. I wore a long deep burgundy dress with dark grey ribbing, its skirts so abundant that they swished when I moved. The sleeves were short and the bodice tight. The shoes I wore pinched as I made my way into the room.
Back inside, the first thing I noticed was a large headboard attached to an enormous bed. Lush gold bed coverings and pillows covered it. The windows on either side were stained glass. In one corner of the room was a large round mirror. I gasped at its familiarity. This was the mirror, the one the Wicked Queen used in Snow White. I stepped in front of the glass, studying my reflection.
The person looking back was stunning, her black hair piled high, her lips blood red and skin luminescent as the moon. I turned, and she copied. I lifted my hand, and she did the same.
“It’s me,” I said, awed.
“My beautiful queen. You truly are the fairest in the land.”
My hand froze in midair. The voice was Christopher’s. I noticed him now, seated in a chair, dressed in lavish clothing: black pants, black boots that extended over his knees, and a burgundy jacket that matched my dress. As before, a dark cloud blurred out his face. No matter how many times I blinked or stared, the features of his face wouldn’t become clear. And I remembered he’d said before that the queen’s magic wouldn’t allow me to know who he was until I drank his blood.
“What’s going on?” I asked, watching him through the mirror’s reflection. He rose and my breath hitched. His blond hair had been combed off his forehead, making his hazel eyes vibrant against his tanned skin. Excitement fluttered along my skin. More than his incredible looks were the fireworks bombarding my heart. We belonged together, it whispered with each beat.
“Why can I see your face?” I asked as I turned away from the mirror. Immediately his features blurred behind a thick darkness so I could only see his red eyes. I returned my gaze to the mirror, checking him out in the reflection.
He smiled. “The mirror reveals the truth, Snow.” He came toward me, stalking me. I wondered if there’d ever been more willing prey.
I wanted to taste him, try his blood. Professor Pops’ words came into my mind: “Never drink from the same human twice. Never more than ten seconds.”
Christopher took my hands and led me to the bed. I didn’t like that his face was hidden from me again, but my longing for him rocked strong enough that I dismissed it. He laid me down and then he lay down next to me so we were eye to eye. “You want me, don’t you?” It was a question, but he knew the answer. I heard it in his voice.
“Yes.”
He tilted his neck in my direction and my fangs grew. Running my tongue over the sharp ends, I moved forward, grabbing hold of him and pressing my lips against his warm throat. I sank my fangs into his skin, enjoying the sensation of his skin parting. Tentative, I sucked. When the first drops touched my tongue, I panted, sucking harder. I had nothing to compare the pleasure I experienced as his blood filled my mouth, ran down my throat, and filled me in ways I never believed existed. To my mind there wasn’t anything better than that moment, which was saying something, since I was a fruit and veggie girl.
After a time, Christopher spoke my name. “Snow.” I felt drunk with his bewitching blood as I lifted my lips from his neck. He smiled, his hazel eyes shimmering with hunger. They were no longer red. “Can you see my face now?”
I focused and immediately could. “Charming?” It’d been him all along?
He smirked and pulled me on top of him. “My turn,” he said. I tilted my neck back, giving him full access, and let out a moan as his teeth parted my flesh and he drank. Uneasiness formed in my belly, knowing the hunter was none other than Chace Charming, Salem Academy’s newest hottie. Professor Pops had said Christopher was a master manipulator. Plus he’d mentioned that a hunter’s magic could alter parts of himself, including the way he looked. Chace-slash-Christopher must’ve sensed my apprehension. He rolled us, placing me under him, his lips never leaving my neck. I sighed, giving in to the immeasurable pleasure of the moment.
I didn’t care one way or the other. This moment, in his arms, drinking from him and him drinking from me was bliss and I never wanted it to end. “Christopher,” I whispered, running my fingers through his hair and pulling him ever closer.
Chapter 21
After a long time, we lay beside each other, my head resting against his chest. He played with my hair. I tried to sleep, but I was too buzzed.
“Do good and evil exist?” Christopher asked.
That was out of the blue. I lifted myself up and searched his face for a hint of humor. He was serious. “I believe so,” I answered, nodding.
He kissed my forehead and sat up, crossing his well-defined legs. I wasn’t ready to be done, but I wanted to know where he was going with his question. Reluctantly I positioned myself so that I sat opposite him on the bed.
We were still in the castle in another realm. Lush throw pillows littered the floor and surrounded us like piranha swarming their food.
Until a few moments ago, I’d been too busy enjoying Chace, aka Christopher, aka my hunter, and hadn’t cared about anything else. Now that he’d spoken, lots of unanswered questions surfaced and guilt pounded within my breast. Like, what was the name of this realm? Why did he keep bringing me here, and where exactly was here?
Christopher seized my hand. “Sweet, beautiful Snow,” he said, caressing my knuckles. “In my years serving the queen, I’ve learned one thing. Words like good and evil are relative terms.”
“What do you mean? To kill someone is evil.” I crossed my arms, waiting to hear how he’d BS his way out of that.
“What if that someone is the enemy in a war? It’s kill or be killed. Would he be considered evil for protecting himself, his loved ones, his home, his country?” He grinned sweetly, running his fingers up my arm. It was distracting.
My mouth fell open at his question. I wanted to say yes, but Professor Pops had explained I would be learning how to kill supernatural creatures, that we were on the brink of war. If I killed to protect myself, would that make me evil?
“Ugh, okay. Where are you going with this?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
He chuckled and climbed off the bed, adjusting his clothes. When he finished, he lifted me onto my feet. “In Buddhism,” he began, “good and evil don’t exist, per se. Instead there is kusala and akusala. Kusala is considered to be intelligence, contentment, beneficial, and a remover of affliction. Akusala is, quite simply, the opposite, or ignorance, causer of affliction, and so on. Which boils down to this: what is evil to one person may be good to another. Life and everything in it is about your perception.”
Christopher’s words echoed in my mind. I wanted him to explain further, but a sudden and infuria
ting beeping interrupted.
My alarm clock.
Upon opening my eyes, my hunter and the other realm vanished. With a sigh I reached over, shut off the clock, and rolled onto my back. I hadn’t slept. At least I didn’t think so. The entire night was spent with Christopher; we hadn’t done more than talk, kiss, and bite each other’s necks, but the experience left me breathless.
I tried to imagine bringing Christopher into my silly little girl’s room and snorted. Lavender walls held up posters of bunnies, kittens, and puppies. Across from me was my chest of drawers, also lavender, and atop it sat unused perfume bottles. Above them hung a corkboard filled with pictures of Cindy and me, as well as pictures of my best friends—the guys. To the left of my dresser was my bathroom and, next to that on the same wall, lived my closet.
“Ugh, I’m so over purple,” I muttered, climbing out of bed and heading into the bathroom where bright purple towels hung on a rack next to a bright purple shower curtain. I turned on the water and undressed while the water warmed. Stepping in, I let the spray soothe away my tension.
I couldn’t help thinking about the past four days. In that time, I’d managed to become a revenant—not quite human, not quite vampire. I’d slept in the same bed with Gabe, one of my best friends on whom I’d developed a crush. Nearly bitten Dorian. And kissed, drank from, and kissed some more my hunter, Christopher.
Sheesh!
I wasn’t that kind of girl; well, I hadn’t been for the past fifteen years. Sure, I’d had sleepovers with all seven brothers in the past, but still… I’d never felt such lustful cravings or been so wanton as I was with Chace, aka Christopher. He brought out feelings in me, needs I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. At the thought of him touching me, kissing me, whispering tenderly to me, my belly fluttered.
“I don’t have time for this,” I grumbled, rinsing off and getting out of the shower.
I dressed in faded jeans, a red Ed Hardy tee shirt with a dragon slithering across the front, and my Converse. In the full-length mirror near my closet I noticed several bruises on my neck and stepped closer for a better look. In the center of the bruises were twin marks closed over by scar tissue. It seemed I hadn’t changed as much as I’d hoped.
No one had been able to see marks after Christopher bit me the first time, but I wasn’t so sure about these bruises. Going to my dresser, I pulled open the top drawer, and took out a silk and cashmere scarf in baby blue. My dad and stepmother had given it to me for Christmas last year because they said it matched my eyes. After pulling off the tag, I wrapped it around my neck several times so the bruises were hidden.
“Today is going to be a regular day.” I grunted, catching my reflection in the full-length mirror beside my dresser. It couldn’t get any weirder. I’d become a blood drinking supernatural creature, for crying out loud. “Ugh! Come on, kitty,” I complained, opening my bedroom door. Gatsby stretched, jumped off my bed, and followed me downstairs.
As soon as I entered the kitchen a brief knock sounded at the back door, followed by Heathcliff, Bart, Gabe, and Dorian. They were a breath of fresh air, full of exuberance and raw energy.
“Hey, Snow,” Dorian said, closing the door behind him.
Gabe carried a large book. He held it like its contents were leprous, and I had to grin. “Hi, guys.”
Heathcliff and Bart returned my greeting as they made themselves at home, rummaging through my fridge and cupboards, grumbling about how I had nothing good to eat. Bart started a pot of coffee and Heathcliff, ever the responsible one, put some water on for my tea.
I quickly got Gatsby his kibble and some water. When the cat was happily eating, I turned my attention to Gabe. “What ya got there?” I sat on a bar stool and swiveled closer.
He glanced around sheepishly before heaving the book on the counter. Moments before I saw the cover up close, I’d imagined it to be a book from Professor Pops’ Museum of the Supernatural, and worried Gabe stole it. No one was to touch those pages. Turned out to be nothing mystical, just a book of dresses by the designer Vera Wang.
I was most definitely not a fashionista. On the contrary, I didn’t even really know what the word meant, only that Cindy used it a lot when showing me clothes from her magazines; but I had heard of Vera Wang and knew she was a big-time designer.
Whoa!
“Professor Pops asked me to bring this to you so you could go through it and pick out a dress.”
I laughed, uncomfortable. “I don’t do dresses.”
The guys paused what they were doing, as though they were shocked I wouldn’t want a dress by the incredibly talented Vera Wang.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. A dress for what?”
Everyone resumed what they were doing. Goofballs!
“Your birthday party, silly,” Bart said, pulling my hair.
“Dude,” Gabe yelled.
“Boys, chill,” I said, putting a hand on each of their chests. The individual beating of their hearts momentarily distracted me. It didn’t make my mouth water, just caused me to pause. That was an interesting new twist. I focused my attention on Bart. “Why do I need a fancy dress for my party?”
He snickered as he pulled an envelope from his back pocket and handed it to me. “You’ve created a monster by allowing Pops to be in charge of your party, and there’s no turning back. Salvatore is taking three hundred of these to the post office as we speak.”
I took the envelope. Glancing at each of the boys, my emotions spiraled from curious to concerned to downright freaked. “What is it?” I asked, though I figured it was an invitation to my birthday party. My hands shook as I turned the envelope over. Sealed with red wax with SW stamped in it. “Cool,” I mumbled, breaking the seal and removing the thick white cardstock. Embossed in black and lined with silver were these words:
You are cordially invited to attend
A Masquerade Ball
Honoring the sixteenth birthday of
Snow White
November 17th beginning at 7:30 pm.
There will be dinner and dancing.
Formal dress required.
Chapter 22
My mind couldn’t get over it. “A masquerade ball. Is he serious?”
See, I didn’t dance. The last time I tried I tripped over my partner’s feet and ended up breaking his wrist. Needless to say, we still weren’t speaking, and the not-so-graceful event happened in junior high.
At the idea of dancing in front of a bunch of people, terror caused my upper lip to tremble. “What is Professor Pops thinking?”
“We tried to talk him out of it,” Bart said, and I could tell by the looks on their faces that he was serious.
The rest muttered incoherent words that I took to mean they weren’t excited about the party concept either. With pouts and irritated glares, they shuffled around, getting mugs for the coffee along with creamer and sugar. The kitchen smelled divine—not that I was ever a big coffee drinker, more of a hot cocoa girl. But the aroma filled me with nostalgic memories of my mom, making me miss her all the more.
“Here you go,” Heathcliff said, setting a mug of murky liquid in front of me.
I was about to decline but got a whiff of it. It wasn’t coffee, but tea. My bloodlust tea.
“Thanks.” I smiled. Their blood wasn’t a distraction this morning. I wondered if that had something to do with me drinking Christopher’s blood last night. Self-consciously I tugged the scarf farther up my neck and caught Dorian watching me, his eyes flickering to my neck, the scarf, and my mouth. His examination told me what he thought. A slow tendril of heat started in my belly and worked its way up. I silently prayed he wouldn’t say anything, at least not in front of his brothers.
“No prob, Snow,” Heathcliff said. He went over and poured himself a cup of coffee.
Gabe cleared his throat and I turned my attention to him, taking a sip of tea.
“So you need to pick out a dress in the next couple of days and let Pops know,” he said.
“If it’s
any consolation, we’ll be wearing tuxes,” Heathcliff said, irritated, reading the terrified look I was sure coated my face.
I giggled at his agitation, swallowed some tea. “You’ll look amazing in a tuxedo.” I rotated to include Bart, Dorian, and Gabe. “You all will.” I pulled the book closer and flipped through the pages. All of the dresses were beautiful, airy and light. I couldn’t imagine trying to move around in something so elegant.
The guys crowded around, each commenting on which one they thought would suit me best. I cringed at wearing any of the dresses and considered speaking to Professor Pops. Gatsby jumped onto a chair and onto the counter, rubbing his body along one of my arms.
“Hey, boy. What do you think of all this?” I set him on the ground. The guys were still occupied with dresses—well, probably the models inside the dresses—and I smiled. “I love you guys,” I blurted. They looked over; their expressions amused. I laughed, mortified by my sudden outburst.
“Love you too, Snow,” Bart and Heathcliff returned.
Gabe gave me a curious look. Dorian came over and stage whispered as he tugged on my scarf: “Love you, too.” I shoved him away, trying to keep my heated cheeks from showing. I didn’t want Gabe thinking it was Dorian’s comment that made me redden, and I certainly didn’t want to tell them it was because of what I’d hidden under my scarf. Casually I fixed it so the soft blue scarf better covered my neck. I’d sooner die than explain the bruises they would think were hickeys. And technically they were.
“Love your shirt, too,” Dorian added, poking his pointer finger into my chest. I looked down, and he flicked me in the nose.
“You’re such a,” I paused and watched his eyes dance, “total tease,” I finished.
He grinned from ear to ear. “It’s all part of my charm.”
“We’d better get to school,” Bart said, tugging my hair again.
“Right, you need another tardy like you need a punch in the face,” Dorian said, slapping him upside the head.
Blood and Snow: Snow White Reimagined with Vampires and Magic (Seven Magics Academy Book 1) Page 9
