The Bloodlust

by L. J. Smith

  “But you don’t have to.” I avoided her eyes, so I knew I wasn’t compelling her.

  She stared at me carefully, as if my face were a cipher she could decode.

  “In two days,” she said, “meet me at midnight. That’s when Damon will be moved to our attic.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Thank you.” I cupped her cheeks with my hands and leaned forward, pressing my forehead to hers. And then I kissed her.

  As we stood, palm to palm, chest to chest, I could have sworn I felt my heart come back to life, beating in perfect sync with hers.

  Chapter 25

  When I got back to the vampire house, the moon was hanging high in the sky. Lexi was sprawled on the sofa, her eyes closed as she listened to Hugo play the piano. The piano was so out of tune that the music he pounded out, which was supposed to be a rousing revolutionary march, sounded more like a funeral dirge. Still, I couldn’t help but pull Lexi up, whirling her around in an impromptu dance.

  “You’re late,” Lexi said, ducking out of the twirl. “Or were you on another date?”

  “Or killing more humans?” Buxton asked, entering the room.

  “Are you in love?” Percy asked, leaning his elbows on his knees and glancing up at me jealously from the corner table, where he was playing a game of solitaire. Percy clearly loved women, but his childlike face made him look like a boy of fifteen, and often the women he was most attracted to assumed Lexi was his mother. I was thankful I’d been turned into a vampire at the age I had been.

  I shook my head. “I’m not in love,” I said, wondering if I was saying it to convince myself. “But I’m settling into the routine at the freak show. I think I’m learning to like New Orleans.”

  “That’s great news,” Buxton breathed sarcastically.

  “Buxton.” Lexi glanced at him reproachfully before turning her attention back to me. “Did you forget our plans?”

  I racked my brain, but finally shook my head. “I’m sorry.”

  Lexi sighed. “Remember—I’m taking you shopping. I may be a vampire, but I still have a woman’s vanity, and it simply doesn’t suit me to be surrounded by men in ill-fitting clothing. What would the neighbors think?” She laughed, amused by her own joke.

  “Oh, right.” I inched toward the stairway. “Maybe we could go tomorrow? I’m exhausted.”

  “I’m serious, Stefan,” Lexi said, taking my arm. “You need clothes, and it’s a tradition of sorts. I took those two gentlemen in for fittings, and look at them now,” she said, nodding toward Buxton and Hugo as if exceptionally pleased with her work. It was true. From Buxton’s high-collared blue coat to Hugo’s well-tailored britches, they did look handsome. “Besides, you don’t have a choice,” she said mischievously.

  “I don’t?”

  “No.” Lexi opened the door with a flourish. “Boys, we’re off. When we come back, you won’t even recognize Stefan, he’ll look so handsome!”

  “Bye, handsome!” Buxton yelled sarcastically as the door clicked closed. Lexi shook her head, but I didn’t mind. In an odd way, I’d gotten used to Buxton. He was like a brother of sorts. A brother with a potentially fatal short temper, but one I’d gotten used to managing.

  Together, Lexi and I walked companionably into the cool night air. I saw Lexi looking at me out of the corner of her eye, and I wondered what she saw.

  I felt I was living three distinct lives: In one, I was a loyal brother, in another I was a new member of a club I didn’t quite understand, and in the third I was a young man placing my trust in a human woman—a woman whom I had staked my own flesh and blood to save. The trouble was, I wasn’t sure how to seamlessly live all three lives.

  “You’re quiet,” Lexi said in midstep. “And”—she sniffed the air—“you haven’t been drinking human blood. I’m proud of you, Stefan.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured. I knew she wouldn’t be proud of me if I told her about the conversation Callie and I had shared. She’d say that I was too impulsive, too naïve, that I’d made a huge mistake telling Callie my secret. Although I hadn’t told as much as confirmed her remarkably accurate suspicions.

  “Here we are,” Lexi said, stopping at a nondescript wooden door on Dauphine Street. She took a slim metal hook from her pocket and jiggled it in the lock of the front door. After a moment, it clicked open.

  “And now, the shop is open for business.” Lexi spread her hands wide, perching on a stiff leather ottoman. “Take your pick.”

  A dozen mannequins with puffed-out chests held court in the store. One in a tweed jacket lifted its arm in a wave, while another in a sailor’s cap had a hand above its eyes, as though staring straight out to sea. Bolts of fine fabrics were propped up against the back wall, and a row of cuff-links glistened under glass. Stacks of ready-made shirts kept silent watch over the darkened shop, and a few cravats spilled out of a drawer.

  Lexi crossed her ankles beneath her skirts and gazed at me, a look of pride on her face as I pulled a camel-hair coat off a mannequin and draped it around my shoulders.

  I stood stiffly, waiting for approval, as I had done when my mother had taken me shopping.

  “Well, I can’t tell when you stand there as wooden as a mannequin. Walk around a bit. See what you think,” Lexi said with an impatient wave of her hand.

  I rolled my eyes but took a turn around the room, acting like the rich men Callie and I’d seen at the burlesque show. I held out my hand to Lexi with a flourish. “Care to dance?” I said in an exaggerated British accent.

  Lexi shook her head, amusement evident in her eyes.

  “Okay, I get it. It’s a little too dandy. How about that one?” She angled her chin at a mannequin in black trousers and a gray coat with red piping. I removed my jacket and pulled the coat around my shoulders.

  Lexi nodded, her eyes taking on a faraway look.

  “What are you thinking about?” I asked.

  “My brother,” she said.

  I thought of the boy in the portrait, his eyes so much like Lexi’s. “What about him?”

  Lexi picked up a silk cravat and laced it between her fingers. She didn’t look at me as she spoke. “After our parents died, I started taking walks with a boy who was a vampire. He asked if I wanted to live forever. And of course I did, because I was young, and who wouldn’t want to always be young and beautiful? Also, if I turned, it meant I’d never have to leave Colin. He’d already lost so much, and I thought, well, at least he could know that he’d never lose me.”

  “Was Colin a vampire?”

  Lexi pulled the cravat through her fingers and cracked it like a whip. “I’d never do that to someone I loved.”

  The image of me forcing Damon to drink from Alice, the barmaid in the tavern back home, flashed through my mind. I looked down, not wanting Lexi to sense what I’d done to someone I loved. “So what happened?”

  “People got suspicious. I didn’t know then how careful we needed to be. My brother was growing up, and I was staying the same. People wondered. And there was a siege, and our house was torched. And the irony is, I escaped and Colin didn’t. And he was the innocent one. He was only sixteen.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said finally. I tried to imagine Lexi as a human, leaning on the arm of the man who had promised the world to her, just as Katherine had promised the world to me. I pictured him spiriting her away to a dark alley, taking just a little blood at first, asking her to drink his, then stabbing her through the heart to complete the transformation.

  Lexi waved her hand, wiping away the image of herself as a young girl. “Don’t be sorry. It was more than a century ago. He’d be dead anyway by now.” She appraised me. “That jacket looks good on you.”

  “Thank you,” I said. Suddenly the weight of my discussion with Callie felt heavy in my stomach. “I have a plan to save Damon,” I blurted out.

  Lexi’s head jerked up, her eyes flashing. “What?”

  “Tomorrow night. Callie’s helping me.” I
allowed my eyes to meet Lexi’s. “Damon’s back at Laurel Street. Her father will be out of the house at a card game, so we’ll free Damon then.”

  “Did you tell Callie what you are?” she asked, her voice low and hard.

  I chewed on my thumb. “No.”

  “Stefan!”

  “She guessed,” I said defensively. “And I trust her.”

  “Trust!” Lexi spat. She stood up so abruptly the ottoman toppled over. “You don’t know the meaning of the word. Callie is the daughter of Patrick Gallagher, who just forced your brother to fight a mountain lion to the death. How do you know this isn’t some elaborate plan to imprison you, too?”

  “How stupid do you think I am?” I challenged, stepping closer to Lexi. “I may be young, but I have good instincts.”

  Lexi gave a derisive snort. “You mean the same instincts that landed you backed up in a butcher shop with three vampires surrounding you? The same instincts that led you to murder that woman on the train?”

  “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

  “Because of me! And the boys back at the house. But I will not allow you to drag us into confronting Patrick Gallagher, of all people.”

  “No one’s dragging you into anything!” I yelled in frustration. “Just because you let your brother die doesn’t mean I’m going to let mine! I owe him that much.”

  “You ungrateful child!” she spat, pushing me with all her force against a gold-framed mirror. I fell as the mirror shattered around me. One large shard cut a large gash across my arm, but it barely hurt. Instead, I was shocked by Lexi’s strength. I’d seen it before, but I’d never been on the receiving end.

  Lexi towered above me, her eyes glittering. “You need to learn your place, and you need to learn it fast. You’re a vampire. And vampires do not consort with humans.”

  I leaped to my feet and pushed her away from me. She flew across the store and landed against the bolts of fabric.

  “This one does, if it means saving Damon,” I growled. Then I stalked out of the shop and into the blackness of the night.

  Chapter 26

  I spent the night at the lake again, but this time I didn’t sleep. Instead I sat along the bank, listening to the world hum around me as though I was an audience member at a musical show. Frogs croaked melodically, blowing out their chests with proud puffs. Fish swam to the lake’s surface to gulp down the water bugs that hovered there, then dived back down to the depths with soft flips of their tails. Birds flew overhead in V formation, and small animals rustled through the reeds, chasing one another as they ferreted out their next meal.

  Then came the grand finale as the sun, an enormous, watery orb, rose to its place of prominence in the sky, signaling that it was the all-powerful king and Earth was its subject.

  As I sat there, watching the one thing that could kill me in an instant if it weren’t for the ring Katherine gave me, a sense of calm rippled through my body. The world was beautiful and magical and I was lucky to still have a place in it.

  Grabbing a perfectly round, flat stone, I stood and looked out over the water. I closed my eyes. If it skips four times, everything will be okay. Then I let the stone soar. It skipped once . . . twice . . . three times . . .

  “Four skips! Impressive!” a voice cheered, followed by enthusiastic clapping.

  I turned around just as Callie leaped into my arms.

  “Good morning!” I laughed, spinning her around.

  “You’re in a good mood,” she said with a smile.

  “I am. And it’s all thanks to you.”

  She tucked her arm through mine. “In that case, I know just how you can thank me!”

  I felt her pulse beating through my coat, and her blood smelled nearly irresistible. But the stone had skipped four times, so I bent down to kiss her.

  Callie and I spent all day together, and then I slept at the lake again. When I arrived home the following day at dusk, I found a pile of clothes, including the black trousers and gray coat I’d modeled for Lexi, on the floor outside my room. On top of the pile was a note, written in block handwriting.

  Follow your heart. You’re lucky you still have one.

  I scooped the bundle up into my arms, touched, relieved, and a little bit sad all at once.

  I changed into a blue chambray shirt and white trousers and slicked my hair back in the mirror. I looked like any young man preparing for a rendezvous with a pretty girl. I just wished it were that simple.

  I crept down the stairs, waiting for someone to jump out of the shadows to stop me—to tell me my plan would never work. But I made it all the way down and then through the kitchen and out the backdoor without that happening.

  Once outside, I walked the two miles to Laurel Street with my hands in my pockets, whistling the strains of “God Save the South.” I paused to pick a white magnolia from a bush in front of a peach-colored mansion at the bottom of Callie’s street.

  “Stefan!” an urgent whisper came from behind the tree at the bottom of the Gallagher driveway.

  Callie stepped into view. Her hair was loose and flowing down her back, and she was wearing a white nightdress trimmed in eyelet lace, just like the first time I’d seen her, except that this time she was standing close enough to me that I could see that although she was wearing a heavy gray woolen shawl, she wasn’t wearing a petticoat. I turned away, suddenly shy.

  “Stefan,” Callie murmured, brushing my arm with her fingers. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” I said. I took the flower and tucked it behind her ear.

  She smiled. “You’re such a gentleman.”

  “And you’re beautiful,” I responded, reaching out to push a strand of hair behind her ear. Her tresses were as soft as rose petals and smelled of honey. I wanted to stay there forever, watching her breath form puffs of air in front of me.

  “Callie . . .” I began, when the bells of a distant church chimed suddenly into the frosty air. Twelve bells. Midnight. The witching hour.

  “It’s time,” Callie said. “Jasper’s shift lasts until twelve thirty, but I can tell him you’re there to relieve him early. That will buy us some time. Once the second guard shows up, you’ll be long gone. But we have to hurry.” She sounded very sure of herself, but her trembling lip gave away her emotions. I wanted to throw my arms around her, tuck her into bed, and whisper “sweet dreams” in her ear. But I, a vampire, was relying on this child to protect me.

  Callie knit her fingers together as if in silent prayer. Then she nodded and gave me a wan smile. “Don’t be scared,” she said, pressing her palm into mine. But I could feel her heart thumping at a gallop from the pulse points in her palm.

  She led me through the iron gates and around the gravel driveway, and opened a nondescript door on the side of the house.

  “Be quiet,” Callie commanded, as my eyes adjusted to the dark. Unlike the rest of the house, with its polished marble and gleaming oak, this entrance was strictly utilitarian, designed for servants to have easy access to the storage space in the attic without disturbing the residents of the house. A steep staircase, made of unfinished walnut beams, loomed in front of us. Callie cocked her head, listening for something. I followed suit, although my thoughts were buzzing too loudly for me to hear specific words.

  Suddenly, I heard a scraping sound from the floor above us. Callie glanced at me; she’d heard it as well.

  “Jasper,” Callie explained. “We should go up.” She walked up the rickety steps, as I followed quickly behind her. Once we got to the cracked, whitewashed door, she knocked—two quick raps followed by a pause, then a longer one.

  A lock clicked, and then we heard the scratch of metal against metal as Jasper undid the bolt. Finally, he opened the door, wedging his body next to the edge so we couldn’t see inside.

  “Well, well, well. Callie and the man who staked the vampire, then ran for his life. To what do we owe the pleasure?” Jasper leered. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to get a glimpse inside the room.

  “Hello
, Jasper,” Callie said, brushing past him and motioning for me to follow. In the darkness, I could just make out a sizable cage in the corner. A large, unmoving lump lay inside. “Father needs you in the study. Stefan will take over until the next shift arrives.”

  “Meet Jasper in the study?” a loud voice boomed. “But I’m right here.”

  I froze. Gallagher.

  Callie’s father was perched at a rickety table behind the door, a hand of cards laid out in front of him. In the center of the table, a single candle flickered.

  “Oh, Father.” Callie giggled. The sound felt forced, out of place. “I must have been confused. I know you’d wanted to play cards tonight, and I suppose I thought you’d be more comfortable in the study or . . .” she began, her voice wavering. She licked her lips and sat down at the table across from Gallagher.

  “You’re kind to think of me, girl,” Gallagher said gruffly.

  “Mr. Gallagher,” I said, bowing slightly. “I was told to report for duty, but perhaps I’m mistaken?” The confusion wasn’t hard to feign. Callie had sworn her father would be out of the house.

  “Is that right, Jasper?” Gallagher asked.

  “Guess it is. He ain’t bad, that one. A little nervous, but when he sticks ’em, he sticks ’em good.”

  Gallagher nodded, taking in the information.

  “And this is that boy you trust, Miss Callie?” Gallagher asked his daughter.

  Callie nodded, her cheeks reddening under her freckles. Then finally, thankfully, Gallagher stood up, his chair scraping against the floor.

  “Well, then, I’ll leave you boys to it,” he said, taking his whiskey and following his daughter downstairs.

  “So you’re Gallagher’s guy now, ain’t you?” Jasper asked, shoving a vervain-soaked stake in my hands. My skin burned, and pain shot through my arms. I fought the urge to growl and clamped down on my tongue. Tensing, I felt the stake with only two fingers, trying to minimize the contact the poisoned wood had with my body.

  “Well, I ain’t going to stick around,” Jasper continued. “The vampire’s hungry tonight. Hope he eats you. And while he does that, I’m going to spend some time with Miss Callie and her daddy. Show ’em you’re not the only man who can be all friendly and genteel-like,” Jasper said. His movements were loose, and I could smell whiskey on his breath.