“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 1800’s, 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 Disney. 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?”
“I—” I didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t like I could spill about becoming a revenant. Viv, especially, would freak, and talk my dad into sending me to an asylum. Don’t get me wrong. Dad had a backbone. For some reason though, he always bent to her will.
“That’s enough,” my dad growled, his eyes flashing with anger. I would’ve cheered, except he immediately turned contrite. “I’m sure Snow is doing a fine job in track. Aren’t you Snow-Angel?”
I brushed my bangs out of my eyes. “Doing great,” I replied with a nod.
Viv held in her hands a formal, lavender dress. I had no idea what the materials were called, but the spaghetti strapped bodice was shiny, and the bottom half reminded me of a fluffy, lavender cloud. The dress sparkled, as though diamonds frolicked within the layers. A large grin spread over Viv’s face. “Happy birthday, Snow.”
Tentative, I stepped forward, touching the little lavender rose belt cinched around the waist. “It’s beautiful.” I didn’t want to overly encourage Viv. “Where am I going to wear this?”
She huffed, exasperated. “Mr. Henry told us about the birthday party he’s planned for you.” She turned and walked back to the table. From a bag she pulled out something wrapped in tissue paper. “Hold this,” she said, handing my dad the dress. After he took it, Viv carefully removed the white paper, producing a stunning mask. Decorated in glittering beading, their colors lilac, teal, and fuchsia, as were several soft-looking feathers that protruded from one side. The beading around the eyes was black. “Mr. Henry said the party theme was a masked ball.” She touched a delicate feather. “This mask is from Milan, and cost more than most people make in a year.”
My dad shuffled his feet, uncomfortable.
Viv added, “You’ll look lovely. The black beading will bring out your stunning blue eyes.”
I reached out, drawn to the colorful beading. Viv slapped my hand away. “Wash your hands first.” She took the dress from my dad. “I hope this fits you. It’s hard to tell under all those baggy clothes.”
As I dried my hands on a towel, I asked, “What size is it?”
“Tut. Tut. Go try it on.” I took the dress and went upstairs. There wasn’t a tag in the dress, or a size. Viv probably didn’t know.
When I entered my room, I casually peeked around. Closing the door, I whispered, “Christopher. Charming. Are you here?” I checked my bathroom, the shower, my closet, even under my bed. He wasn’t there. My stomach sank. I figured he’d left when my dad and stepmother showed up. I hoped he’d come back later—after they went to bed.
“Snow! Hurry up,” Viv shouted.
“Okay.” I threw off my clothes, and cautiously stepped into the dress, zipping up the side.
I went over to the full-length mirror, and twirled side to side, watching the dress glimmer. It fit perfectly.
“Snow,” Viv hollered again.
“Keep your hair on,” I muttered, opening the door. At the top of the stairs I paused. Viv clutched her throat, and she gasped. That made me smile. A part of me wondered if Viv had hoped the dress wouldn’t fit. But she said, “Snow, you look amazing.”
“Yes, you do. Like royalty,” Dad chimed in.
Viv gave him a dark glance. Then she scowled in my direction. “Come down. Let me see you.”
I walked down the stairs. Before I reached the bottom her hands were on me, pulling and tugging. I hoped she didn’t rip any of the material. After several minutes, she said, “It isn’t perfect, but you’ll do.”
I wiped the grin off my face and nodded. “Well I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” Giving Viv an uncomfortable hug, I continued, “Thank you for the dress. It’s gorgeous. I love it.”
She patted my arm. “Of course.” Viv moved back over to the bags, rifling through them again.
Dad pressed me to him.
“Thank you, Dad.”
“You’re welcome, Snow-Angel. Good night.”
“Night.” Before I started up, Viv brought over a hanger nestled in a garment bag, and a bag that held the mask. “Here, put the dress in the garment bag, and put the mask somewhere safe.” She pressed them into my outstretched hands.
“Thank you.”
Chapter 2
Gatsby followed me upstairs and jumped on my bed. He curled himself into a ball and lay down, his blue-grey eyes watching. “Do you think you’re under fed?” He licked his mouth. “Of course not. You’re the perfect size. Quite handsome.”
I hung up the garment bag and placed the sack holding the mask on the shelf above my clothes. Carefully I stepped out of the dress and hung it up inside the garment bag.
After pulling on a cherry tank and a black pair of PJ pants, I bushed my teeth, washed my face, and climbed into bed. I tucked my hands under my pillow. My fingers brushed against… something. Rolling to my stomach, I lifted the pillow. There was a red gem in the shape of a teardrop attached to a long, sliver chain. It wasn’t too big or too small, about the size of my thumb.
Underneath the necklace rested a piece of paper. I flipped on the lamp next to my bed and read:
Frosty,
I’d intended to wait until your birthday to give you the necklace, but I may not be able to make it. So I’ve giving it to you now. The gem is filled with magic, like you. Wear it always, please. It’ll keep you safe. I’ll see you soon.
Your Hunter,
Christopher
I read the note several times. Each pass caused my heart to constrict in pain. He wouldn’t be able to make it to my birthday? It was more than a month away. Would he be gone that long? I eased the fine chain over my head, watching the gem glint against the filtered
light.
It’s beautiful, I thought.
Gatsby came over and rubbed his head against my hand, purring. I scratched him behind the ears. “I’ll be fine, kitty.” Folding the note, I tucked it under the lamp stand and turned off the light. Gatsby nudged me, a not so subtle hint that he still wanted to be petted. With a sigh, I accommodated, and thought about the last time I’d seen Christopher. We’d been in my kitchen. He was excited, happy even, but there’d been another emotion, barely under the surface. It had to do with the wooden bear. “What’s going on?”
Weary, I closed my eyes. My mind wandered back through my day. I hadn’t done any homework. Not good. Hopefully I’d be able to get it done tomorrow, during classes.
***
“Snow White. Come closer.” Her voice seemed to whisper inside my mind.
The room was circular with walls made of rectangular rocks. A darkened window prevented any light from entering. The Vampire Queen sat on a large throne. It was decorated in jewels that twinkled in the light from the candle chandeliers. All around the room sat others—women. They seemed angry, barely contained. Their eyes gleamed a golden yellow like the sun.
Did she bring me here? “Is this Sharra?”
The Queen smiled, flashing her sharpened canines. She was so beautiful it hurt. The images I saw in the book at the Museum of the Supernatural invaded my mind. She looked like that at one point. I wondered if those kinds of vampires still existed or if they all died.
“I see Christopher has been enlightening. Yes, this is Sharra, a realm of my creation.” A long, old-fashioned gown hugged her curvy body and spread out around her in tones of emerald and pine. Black ribbing crisscrossed the bodice. Her thick, raven black hair was done up in hundreds of curls, a diamond tiara peeking out in front. An emerald choker captured her neck. Thick black lashes framed iridescent blue eyes. Her lips shone red as blood, as did her long, manicured nails. “Come closer so that I can look at you.”
My body responded to her alluring voice, stepping forward. Would she take me now?
You aren’t ready yet, my inner voice whispered.
Right! I had to drink my true love’s blood first. Gathering confidence, I lifted my chin. “What do you want?” The women, probably Worker Vampires, began moving toward me, fangs bared. “No. Stop,” I shouted. It dawned on me suddenly that I was still in my PJ’s. But I didn’t have time to be embarrassed. I threw my hands up, hoping to keep them at bay, and a red light exploded from my palms into the woman nearest me. She burst into flames.
“Whoa!”
Those closest to her screamed and ran when some of the flames touched them, their bodies blackening. The others stopped, their beautifully fanged faces filled with apprehension.
“No. Don’t hurt them,” the Vampire Queen shrieked.
***
I bolted upright, throwing off the covers, frightening Gatsby. “Sorry, boy,” I whispered trying to calm my racing heart. Heading into the bathroom, I filled a cup with water and took a sip. A movement from behind startled me. My heart raced. Something was in my room, near the window. Like an idiot, I moved closer. It was a squat creature, like a big blob of mud with yellow cat eyes. “Are you real?”
It opened its mouth. A bright pink tongue licked two slits that I figured could be its nose. “She sees me,” it said in a raspy voice.
“Of course I see you. Is there someone else here?” I quickly scanned the room. Gatsby stood on my bed, his back arched, and he hissed.
“Magic, my Queen. The girl possesses magic.” Moving more rapidly than I believed possible for the pudgy little thing, it opened my window and jumped.
“Wait,” I called. When I reached the window I peered out. It bounded across my back lawn like a giant toad, and disappeared into the thick brush that lined the property.
Chapter 3
The next morning, after I got up, showered, and dressed. I went downstairs, surprised to find Vivianne in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. She had on a pair of sweatpants with the word SEXY in bold letters across the butt, and a matching hot pink hoodie. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
“Pancakes sound okay?” Vivianne asked, smiling. She seemed so young.
“Um, sure.” I’d been vegan since Viv and my dad married. I wondered if she’d made the pancakes vegan friendly, or if she’d made them regular. Something told me she’d fixed them her way. And, really, did it matter anymore? All I wanted was blood. Christopher’s blood. Regular food no longer appealed to me in any form.
At the thought of Christopher, aka Chace, aka my Hunter, my heart clenched in my chest, and my fingers touched the gem teardrop under my shirt. A darkened expression darted across Vivianne’s features as she gave my clothes the once over—faded jeans and a sky blue t-shirt. The Pillsbury Dough Boy winked from my chest. It took a giant effort not to comment. This was one of my favorite shirts.
“Have a seat.” She indicated a stool under the counter with the spatula in her hand.
“Thanks Viv. You didn’t need to do this. I could’ve made myself something.” Like my tea. I’d put the bloodlust mixture in a white stoneware canister with the words Brown Sugar across the front, and left it on the counter. I moved a loaf of bread, and a mustard yellow bowl filled with red apples. “Have you seen the brown sugar canister?” I asked, opening the cupboards.
She didn’t answer, and I turned to catch her staring, her face unreadable.
“Yes, dear. I threw the contents in the sink, and tossed out the canister. It stunk.” Viv shrugged. “Whatever you had in there couldn’t have been any good. I know you’re a health nut, and I’m fine with that, but I won’t have you doing drugs in this house.”
How did she get to drugs? “They were herbs for a tea. A-a tea I need.” I ran over to the sink, but it was empty. Fear swallowed me. I didn’t know if my lack of lust for blood was because I drank from Christopher or the tea, and I didn’t want to find out. Come to think of it I hadn’t had any of his blood or the tea in over twenty-four hours. I breathed in, and was relieved to realize that though I could smell her blood it didn’t cause a craving.
“Sorry, Snow. Why don’t you sit and have a pancake?” She flipped a couple from the griddle onto a plate.
“No, thanks. I’ve got to get to school.” I grabbed my backpack from the dining table, and ran out the back door. At the bottom of the stairs I remembered I hadn’t fed Gatsby. No way was I going back in there though. He’d be okay. Maybe my dad was right, I’d be glad to see him to go because it meant he’d take her.
I crossed the yard, making my way to Professor Pops’ house. I hoped he was home. I needed to explain the tea situation. Hopefully he could get some more from Kenmei.
Seconds after I knocked on the door, Bart answered. He wore dark jeans, and a white button down shirt. His blond hair was still a little damp, probably from a shower.
“Hey, Snow. Come on in.”
“Thanks, Bart.” I stepped into the high ceilinged foyer, admiring the enormous sparkling chandelier, and he closed the door. “Is Professor Pops around? I need to talk to him.”
“Yep, in the kitchen. Don’t freak out, but there’s a meat extravaganza in there. We didn’t know you were coming.” He looked guilty.
I laughed. “It’s okay. I know you guys eat meat.” Then I leaned in, trying to ignore his beating heart. “Besides, with me being a revenant and everything, I probably shouldn’t worry about the whole vegan thing anymore. Ya know?”
“True. I forgot.” He sauntered into the kitchen and I followed him.
The smell of cooking meat—bacon, sausage, and eggs—pummeled my senses, and I bit back nausea.
“Look who it is,” Bart said, taking a seat at the sleek table filled with food.
Eight sets of eyes bore into me.
“Hi guys.” I raised my hand, giving them an embarrassed wave.
“Snow,” Professor Pops rose, and placed his napkin on the table. “Is everything okay?”
I shook my head. “Can I talk to yo
u privately a second?” I didn’t want to worry the guys, have them thinking I’d become a blood-sucking crazy pants, and try to bite them, or worse.
“Sure,” he said, glancing back at the boys. “There’d better be two slices of bacon left when I get back. To me he said, “Let’s go into my study.”
I followed him down the narrow hall. Once he’d closed the door to his study, he asked, “What’s happened?”
“Nothing. Yet.” I absently stroked the old wooden desk we stood in front of. “It’s just my dad and stepmother came home last night.”
Professor Pops let out a frustrated huff.
“Viv threw away my bloodlust tea.” I looked up at him, worried he’d be mad, but I could only see warmth, and a slight irritation in his features.
“That woman.” He went around to the business side of his desk, and sat in a large camel-colored leather chair. “Have a seat,” he said.
I obeyed, and watched him dial a number on his cell phone.
“Kenmei-sensai. It’s Adam.” There was a pause and a smile flitted across his lips. “I’m well, old friend.” Another pause. “It seems we’re in need of some more of your special tea.” Pause. His lips pressed together in a thin line. “Yes.” Pause. “Great. I’ll send one of the boys by to pick it up later today.” A longer pause. “Are you sure?” Pause. “Great, I’ll see you then.” He hung up the phone, rested his hands on the large calendar on his desk, and gave me a wary look. “Kenmei-sensai will bring the tea by later today. He’s also asked that he be the one to train you this afternoon. Will you be alright at school?”
Nervous flutters pirouetted in my tummy. “Yes. I think so. Thank you Professor Pops.” For some reason Christopher’s face appeared in my mind. He wouldn’t be in chemistry or at lunch or track practice. I swallowed sadly. He’d become my ally, my friend, the only person I wanted to be around.
Yeah, there’s something wrong with that, my inner voice shouted.
“Of course.” He stood, and I followed. Rubbing my shoulders, he said, “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. I’m sure of it.”
Blood and Snow Volumes 1-4: Blood and Snow, Revenant in Training, The Vampire Christopher, Blood Soaked Promises Page 13
