I turned on my own laptop and set it on the bed. While it booted up, I reached for a small metal suitcase I’d carefully packed but never expected to use. “Can you go get me some water? Quickly?”
Jill hesitated only a moment before nodding. “Be right back,” she said, jumping off her bed.
While she was gone, I unlocked the case with a key I always kept on me. Inside it were small amounts of dozens of Alchemist compounds, the kinds of substances we mixed together and used as part of our jobs. Some ingredients—like the ones I used to dissolve Strigoi bodies—I had lots of. Others, I had only a sampling of. My laptop finished booting up, and I logged onto the Alchemist database. A few searches and I soon had the formula for anti-tattoo treatment pulled up.
Jill returned then, carrying a cup brimming with water. “Is this enough? If we were in any other climate, I could’ve pulled it straight from the air.”
“It’s fine,” I said, glad the climate had kept her from magic.
I scanned the formula, analyzing which ingredients did what. I mentally deleted the ones I was certain were specific to gold. A couple I didn’t even have, but I was pretty sure they were simply for skin comfort and weren’t requisite. I began pulling out ingredients from my kit, carefully measuring them—though still moving as quickly as possible—into another cup. I made substitutions where necessary and added an ingredient I was certain would break down copper, though the amount required was only a guess on my part. When I finished, I took the water from Jill and added the same amount that was in the original instructions. The final result was a liquid that reminded me of iodine.
I lifted it up and felt a little like a mad scientist. Jill had watched me without comment the entire time, sensing the urgency. Her face was filled with concern, but she was biting back all the questions I knew she had. She followed me when I left the room and headed back to Kristin’s. More girls were there than before, and it was honestly a wonder Mrs. Weathers didn’t just hear the racket. For a group so intent on protecting their precious tattoos, they weren’t being particularly covert.
I returned to Kristin’s bedside, finding her unchanged. “Expose her wrist again, and hold her arm as still as possible for me.” I didn’t direct the command to anyone but put enough force into it that I felt certain someone would obey. I was right. “If this doesn’t work, we get a doctor.” My voice left no room for argument.
Julia looked paler than Jill but gave a weak a nod of acceptance. I took the washcloth she’d been using and dipped it into my cup. I’d never actually seen this done and had to guess about how to apply it. I made a silent prayer and then pressed the washcloth against the tattoo on Kristin’s wrist.
She let out a strangled cry, and her whole body bucked up. A couple nearby girls instinctively helped hold her down. Tendrils of smoke curled up from where I was holding the washcloth against her, and I smelled a sharp, acrid odor. Waiting what I hoped was an acceptable amount of time, I finally removed the washcloth.
The pretty little daisy was mutating before our eyes. Its clean lines began to run and blur. The coppery color began to shift, darkening into a bluish green. Before long, the design was unrecognizable. It was an amorphous blob. Around it, red welts appeared on her skin, though they seemed to be more of a superficial irritation than anything dire.
Still, the whole thing looked terrible, and I stared in horror. What had I done?
Everyone else was silent, no one knowing what to do. A couple minutes passed, but they felt like hours. Abruptly, Kristin stopped twitching. Her breathing still seemed labored, but she blinked, her eyes focusing as though suddenly seeing the world for the first time. Her pupils were still huge, but she managed to look around and at last focus on me.
“Sydney,” gasped out Kristin. “Thank you.”
CHAPTER 16
I EXPLAINED AWAY my chemistry experiment by saying that it was just a substance I had on hand from when I received my tattoo, in the event I had an allergic reaction. I certainly didn’t let on that I’d mixed it myself. I think they would’ve bought that cover story, if not for the fact that a few days later, I was able to get ahold of a formula that helped treat the chemical burns on Kristin’s skin. The mixture did nothing for the ink stain—that seemed to be permanent, barring some tattoo laser removal—but her welts did fade a little bit.
After that, word got around that Sydney Melrose was the new on-site pharmacist. Because I had extra left over from Kristin, I gave the remainder of the skin cream to a girl with severe acne since it worked on that as well. That probably didn’t do me any favors. People approached me for all sorts of things and even offered to pay me. Some requests were pointless, like cures for headaches. Those people I simply told to buy some aspirin. Other requests were out of my power and nothing I wanted to deal with, like birth control.
Aside from the weird requests, I actually didn’t mind the increase in my daily social interaction. I was used to people needing things from me, so that was familiar territory. Some people just wanted to know more about me as a person, which was new and more enjoyable than I’d expected. And still others wanted . . . different things from me.
“Sydney.”
I was waiting for my English class to start and was startled to see one of Greg Slade’s friends standing over my desk. His name was Bryan, and although I didn’t know much about him, he’d never come across as obnoxious as Slade, which was a point in Bryan’s favor.
“Yes?” I asked, wondering if he wanted to borrow notes from me.
He had shaggy brown hair that seemed to be purposely grown unkempt and was actually kind of cute. He ran a hand over it as he picked his words. “Do you know anything about silent films?”
“Sure,” I said. “The first ones were developed in the late nineteenth century and sometimes had live musical accompaniment, though it wasn’t until the 1920s that sound become truly incorporated into films, eventually making silent ones obsolete in cinema.”
Bryan gaped, as though that was more than he’d been expecting. “Oh. Okay. Well, um, there’s a silent film festival downtown next week. Do you think you’d want to go?”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. I respect it as an art form but really don’t get much out of watching them.”
“Huh. Okay.” He smoothed his hair back again, and I could almost see him groping for thoughts. Why on earth was he asking me about silent films? “What about Starship 30? It opens Friday. Do you want to see that?”
“I don’t really like sci-fi either,” I said. It was true, I found it completely implausible.
Bryan looked ready to rip that shaggy hair out. “Is there any movie out there you want to see?”
I ran through a mental list of current entertainment. “No. Not really.” The bell rang, and with a shake of his head, Bryan slunk back to his desk. “That was weird,” I muttered. “He has bad taste in movies.” Glancing beside me, I was startled to see Julia with her head down on her desk while she shook with silent laughter. “What?”
“That,” she gasped. “That was hilarious.”
“What?” I said again. “Why?”
“Sydney, he was asking you out!”
I replayed the conversation. “No, he wasn’t. He was asking me about cinema.”
She was laughing so hard that she had to wipe away a tear. “So he could find out what you wanted to see and take you out!”
“Well, why didn’t he just say that?”
“You are so adorably oblivious,” she said. “I hope I’m around the day you actually notice someone is interested in you.” I continued to be mystified, and she spent the rest of class bursting out with spontaneous giggles.
While I became an object of fascination, Jill’s popularity fell. Part of it was her own shyness. She was still so conscious and worried about being different that she assumed everyone else was aware of her otherness too. She continued holding back from connecting with people out of fear, making her come across as aloof. Surprisingly making this worse, Jill’s �
��doctor’s note” had finally come through from the Alchemists. The school wouldn’t put her into a different elective that was already in progress. Freshmen weren’t allowed to be teacher’s aides like Trey. After consultation with Miss Carson, they’d finally decided that Jill would participate in all indoor PE activities and do “alternate assignments” when we were outdoors. This usually meant writing reports on things like the history of softball. Unfortunately, sitting out half the time only managed to isolate Jill more.
Micah continued to dote on her, even in the face of adversity.
“Lee texted me this morning,” she told me at lunch one day. “He wants to take me out to dinner this weekend. Do you think . . . I mean, I know you guys would have to go too . . .” She glanced uncertainly between Eddie and me.
“Who’s Lee?” asked Micah. He had just sat down with our group.
A few moments of awkward silence fell. “Oh,” said Jill, averting her eyes. “He’s this, um, guy we know. He doesn’t go here. He goes to college. In Los Angeles.”
Micah processed this. “He asked you on a date?”
“Yeah . . . we actually went out before. I guess we’re, well, kind of dating.”
“Not seriously,” piped in Eddie. I wasn’t sure if he was saying this to spare Micah’s feelings or if it was some protective way to stop Jill from getting too close to anyone.
Micah was good at hiding his emotions, I’d give him that. After a bit more thought, he finally gave Jill a smile that only seemed slightly forced. “Well, that’s great. I hope I can meet him.” After that, the conversation turned to the upcoming football game, and no one mentioned Lee again.
Finding out about Lee changed how Micah acted around Jill, but he still hung out with us all the time. Maybe it was in the hopes that Lee and Jill would break up. Or it could’ve simply been because Micah and Eddie spent a lot of time together, and Eddie was one of Jill’s few friends. But the problem wasn’t Micah. It was Laurel.
I didn’t think Micah would’ve been interested in Laurel even if Jill hadn’t been in the picture, but Laurel still saw Jill as a threat—and went out of her way to make her miserable. Laurel spread rumors about her and made pointed comments in the halls and during class about Jill’s pale skin, height, and skinniness—Jill’s biggest insecurities.
Once or twice, I heard the name vampire girl whispered in the halls. It made my blood run cold, no matter how many times I reminded myself it was a joke.
“Jill isn’t what’s keeping Laurel and Micah apart,” I remarked to Julia and Kristin one day. They were amused by my continued efforts to apply logic and rationality to social behaviors in the school. “I don’t understand. He just doesn’t like Laurel.”
“Yeah, but it’s easier for her to think Jill’s the problem, when really, Laurel’s just a bitch and Micah knows it,” explained Julia. Ever since the awkward encounter with Bryan, she and Kristin had taken it upon themselves to try to educate me in the ways “normal” humans behaved.
“Plus, Laurel just likes having someone to pick on,” said Kristin. She rarely spoke about the tattoo but had been serious and sober ever since.
“Okay,” I said, trying to follow the logic, “but I was the one who called her out about dying her hair. She’s hardly said a word to me.”
Kristin smiled. “No fun picking on you. You talk back. Jill doesn’t defend herself much and doesn’t have many people to stick up for her either. She’s an easy target.”
One positive thing did happen, at least. Adrian was staying on good behavior after the Los Angeles mishap, though I had to wonder how long it would last. Based on what I gathered from Jill, he was still bored and unhappy. Lee’s schedule was erratic, and it wasn’t his job to look after Adrian anyway. There didn’t seem to be any good solution for her, really. If Adrian gave in to his vices, she suffered the effects of his hangovers and “romantic interludes.” If he didn’t, then he was miserable, and that attitude slowly trickled into her as well. The only hope they had was that Jill would eventually learn the control to block him out of her mind, but from what Rose had told her, that could take a very long time.
When the next feeding came around, I was disappointed to see Keith’s car parked in Clarence’s driveway. If he wasn’t going to actually do anything active to help this assignment, I kind of wished he’d just stay away from it altogether. He apparently thought these “supervising” visits counted as work and continued to justify his presence. Except when we met up with Adrian in the living room, Keith was nowhere in sight. Neither was Clarence.
“Where are they?” I asked Adrian.
Adrian was lounging on the couch and put down a book he’d been reading. I had a feeling reading was a rare activity for him and almost felt bad for the interruption. He stifled a yawn. There was no alcohol in sight, but I did see what looked like three empty cans of energy drink.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Off talking somewhere. Your friend’s got a sick sense of humor. I think he’s feeding Clarence’s paranoia about vampire hunters.”
I glanced uneasily at Lee, who had immediately begun talking to Jill. Both were so caught up in each other, they didn’t even realize what the rest of us were discussing. I knew how much the vampire hunter talk bothered Lee. He wouldn’t appreciate Keith encouraging it.
“Does Clarence know about the killing in LA?” asked Eddie. There was no reason Keith wouldn’t, since it was open Alchemist knowledge, but I wasn’t sure if he would’ve made the connection to Clarence or not.
“He hasn’t mentioned it,” said Adrian. “I swear Keith’s just doing it because he’s bored or something. Even I haven’t sunk that low.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing instead?” I asked. I sat down across from him and pointed at the energy drinks.
“Hey, it’s not vodka or brandy or . . . well, anything good.” Adrian sighed and upended one can, drinking the last few drops. “So give me some credit.”
Eddie glanced at the cans. “Didn’t Jill say she had trouble sleeping last night?”
“Adrian,” I said with a groan. Eddie was right. I’d noticed Jill tossing and turning constantly. Vicarious caffeine would certainly explain it.
“Hey, I’m trying,” Adrian said. “If you could get me out of here, Sage, then I wouldn’t be forced to drown my sorrows in taurine and ginseng.”
“She can’t, Adrian, and you know it,” said Eddie. “Can’t you . . . I don’t know. Find a hobby or something?”
“Being charming is my hobby,” said Adrian obstinately. “I’m the life of a party—even without drinking. I wasn’t meant to be alone.”
“You could get a job,” said Eddie, settling into a corner chair. He smiled, amused by his own wit. “Solve both your problems—make some money and be around people.”
Adrian scowled. “Careful, Castile. There’s only one comedian in this family.”
I straightened up. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”
“It’s a terrible idea,” said Adrian, glancing between me and Eddie.
“Why?” I asked. “Is this the part where you tell us your hands don’t do manual labor?”
“It’s more like the part where I don’t have anything to offer society,” he countered.
“I could help you,” I offered.
“Are you going to do the work and give me the paycheck?” Adrian asked hopefully. “Because that actually could help.”
“I can give you a ride to your interviews,” I said. “And I can make you a resume that would get you any job.” I eyed him and reconsidered. “Well, within reason.”
Adrian stretched back out. “Sorry, Sage. Just not feeling it.”
Clarence and Keith entered just then. Clarence’s face was exuberant. “Thank you, thank you,” he was saying. “It’s so nice to talk to someone who understands my concerns about the hunters.”
I hadn’t been aware that Keith understood anything except his own self-serving nature. Lee’s face darkened when he realized Keith was furthering the old
man’s irrationality. Nonetheless, the Moroi withheld the comments he undoubtedly wanted to make. It was the first time I’d seen any sort of dark emotion on Lee’s face. Looked like Keith could bring down even the most cheerful person.
Clarence was happy to see us, as was Dorothy. Humans who gave blood to vampires weren’t just disgusting because of the act itself. What was also appalling was the addiction that resulted. Vampires released endorphins into those they drank from, endorphins that created a pleasurable sort of high. Human feeders who lived among Moroi spent their entire days in that high, becoming heavily dependent on it. Someone like Dorothy, who had lived only with Clarence for years, hadn’t experienced enough bites to really get addicted. Now, with Jill and Adrian around, Dorothy was getting an increased amount of endorphins in her daily life. Her eyes lit up when she saw Jill, showing she was eager for more.
“Hey, Sage,” said Adrian. “I don’t want an interview, but do you think you could give me a ride to get some cigarettes?”
I started to tell him I wasn’t going to help with such a filthy habit and then noticed him looking meaningfully at Dorothy. Was he trying to get me out of here? I wondered. Give me an excuse to not be around for the feeding? From what I understood, Moroi normally didn’t hide their feedings from each other. Jill and Dorothy just usually left the room for my comfort. I knew they’d probably do it again but decided I’d take the opportunity to get away. Of course, I glanced at Keith for confirmation, expecting him to protest. He merely shrugged. It looked like I was the last thing on his mind.
“Okay,” I said, standing up. “Let’s go.”
In the car, Adrian turned to me.
“I changed my mind,” he said. “I’ll take you up on helping me get a job.”
I almost swerved into oncoming traffic. Few things from him could have surprised me more—and he said pretty surprising things on a regular basis. “That was fast. Are you serious?”
“As much as I ever am. Will you still help me?”
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