Seconds before I lunge forward and tear her throat out with my teeth, five sabers erupt some six or more inches out from the middle of her chest. All the fight leaves her at once; I fling her limp arms aside, but she doesn’t fall over. Stunned, Petra gazes down at the bloom of spikes protruding from her body, gurgling in agony as she rises off her feet, all her weight hanging on the claws impaling her.
Glim fades into view behind her, appearing as if out of thin air. He pivots, easily holding her up with one arm, and throws her aside like he’s flinging a bit of steak off a fork. Petra hits the floor with a wet slap, laying on her side, arms limp, one knee slightly bent. The glow has left her eyes, but her jaw continues moving. Her far-off stare tells me she’s in an amazing amount of pain.
I stare at Glim, who turns his hand side to side, admiring the blood smeared on the ten-inch-long daggers attached to his fingers. Dalton said something about Shadows having wicked claws, but eek!
Wow. Are you happy to see me, or did the manicurist screw up? I ask, telepathically.
He chuckles, slinging his hand a few times in an effort to clean them of blood, then retracts his claws back to their mere three-inch normality.
“…” I say.
“Your throat has a rather large, painful looking opening that should not be there. Give it a moment,” says Glim. “Perhaps feed a little?”
I glance at the nearest man and cringe. Yeah right. Not only is it so creepy to keep people like pets, Petra’s touched him.
“Perhaps I misunderstood the outcasts. I thought they disliked politics.” Glim strides across the room, picks up the abandoned cape, and uses it to cover Petra’s nakedness. “And this one in particular should probably have a date with the sun.”
Petra closes her eyes and forces out a breath. “This isn’t politics. She interfered with my art.”
“… …!” I yell. Argh. I sound like an inflatable raft with a leak. Oh, screw it. I stomp over to the healthiest looking guy and take a few mouthfuls of blood from his neck. He’s covered in body oil and some obnoxious perfume. His blood winds up tasting like one of those weird candies they have at Japanese restaurants. Something vaguely fruity with an unrecognizable twang.
My first sip spills straight out the front of my neck, so I clamp a hand over the hole so the blood goes where it’s supposed to. Ugh. Vampirism brings catfight to a whole new level. The claw wounds on my side burn like mad, and my throat? Yeah, that I don’t really feel at all—since I pass out.
I regain consciousness flat on my back, peering up at Glim. He smiles his toothy mess of a mouth at me. Two dull points of pain throb in my shoulder from where she bit me.
“You should have your voice back now.”
“How,” I croak. “How long was I out?”
“Only a moment.”
“It’s wrong,” wheezes Petra. “You don’t interfere with a Sybarite’s art! Don’t you understand?”
I roll to my knees, stand, and trudge over to her. “Can’t you just leave me the hell alone? I had no idea Alex was your project or anything. His dead grandfather asked me for help.”
She struggles to lift her head off the floor, peering up at me. “You would’ve left him alone if you knew you were messing with my art?”
“No.” I fold my arms. “I couldn’t leave anyone to suffer like that when it’s not his fault. What you did to him is not art. What I mean is, I didn’t fix Alex to deliberately screw with you. You are a really sick, twisted person. Did you forget how to really be an artist? What happened to you that you lost the urge to create? Art is not destruction.”
Petra chuckles, spitting out a glop of thick, dark blood. “You’re so naïve. You think you’re simply going to say a few noble words and I’m going to be like”—She puts on a fake innocent high voice—“Gasp! You’re right! I’m evil and I need to change?”
I shrug. “Well, yeah… I was kind of hoping I could monologue you into an epiphany.”
She squints at me. “Are you for real?”
“Stupid claw wounds hurt so damn much.” I attempt to rub my side, but ooh. No touchie.
Glim steps around to stand at my side, his heavy boot hitting the floor near her face with a thump. He raises a hand, examining his claws. “Perhaps you should regard the matter as settled. I consider this girl a dear friend.”
Petra shies away from looking at him. She shivers, clutching her hands to her chest. The gossamer cape has soaked through with blood, clinging to her chest and hip. “All right. Fine. I will forget she exists.”
I blink and peer at Glim. Wow, that was fast.
He indicates the door out with a nod. “Sarah, your business here is concluded.”
“Yeah.” I glance at the captive men. “Glim?”
“Yes?”
“Will you do me one small favor?”
“Hmm?”
“Carry me out of here and hold on. I can’t bring myself to leave those guys captive. I’m gonna try to break them out. That’ll probably piss her off and start this whole mess again.”
“As you wish.”
I turn and let him grab me from behind. He carries me out, despite me genuinely trying to get away from him. Everything flashes pitch dark, even to my vampire eyes, and freezing. Like wow. I haven’t truly felt cold since waking up as a not-quite-dead girl. The change stuns me motionless. A sense of weightlessness lingers for a while, and the next thing I know, we’re standing in the woods.
“Whoa.” I gaze around. “Did we just like… teleport?”
He chuckles and releases his grip. “No. I flew with you, similar to the way you fly, only we traversed the Shadow.”
“That’s pretty damn awesome. So, umm. Do you think she’s going to really stop coming after me?”
“Most likely.” Glim nods. “Vampires who wind up on our bad side tend to vanish quietly. One thing about Shadows, we are viewed as legion. When one of us speaks, it is assumed that carries the weight of all.”
I swallow hard. “Umm. Wow. Thank you. I don’t know what to say that you’ve committed all your friends to a blood feud over me.”
He smiles. “It is not as significant an undertaking as you are making it out to be. Petra would simply cease to exist, and none, even elders, would be able to determine what happened.”
Remind me never to piss off the Shadows.
“Thank you.” I hug him, clinging tight. “Thought I was about to lose that one.”
“I believe you had the upper hand at the moment I arrived.” His posture stiffens, but not as much as the last time I hugged him.
It doesn’t matter what he looks like. I don’t see that part of him at all. He’s a true friend, and one I hope to have for a really long time.
“Are you all right?” he asks after a few minutes.
“Yeah.” I release the hug and take a step back to check myself over. Aside from a new ventilation flap on the left side of my T-shirt, my clothes are surprisingly intact. Blood will wash out, but the shirt’s too ripped up to save. “Amazing! I still have clothes.”
He chuckles. “The same cannot be said for her.”
“Yeah, well, she went into that fight with almost nothing on. I don’t think she was expecting ‘fight’ to be the word starting with f for tonight’s activity.”
“Indeed. Are you sure you’re well enough to get home?”
“Yeah. I’ll probably spend the next two days in hiding until I don’t look like I got run over by a train, though.”
He bows. “Consider feeding on the way. Drink until the thought of one more droplet makes you ill.”
“Okay. Will do.”
Glim smiles, and vanishes into a cloud of black smoke, starting from the feet up.
That is a neat trick. Okay, gorge myself on blood and then go home to bed. That, I can do.
That, I can definitely do.
28
Loyalty
Four days later, I stop hiding in my room.
Well, more accurately, I stop wearing a turtleneck sweater to co
nceal the hideous purple marks on my throat and shoulder. She didn’t get me in the face, so the high neck with long sleeves conceals everything. I still stay in the house though.
But yeah, four days later, I’m back to normal. Petra’s fear of Glim appears true, as nothing else has happened to my siblings or friends. Besides, if what Dalton said is true, she’s probably going to enjoy a few months of agony before Glim’s claw marks are healed. I’ll call that payback for what she did to my siblings and Ashley.
Maybe it counts as me giving up, considering she’s still out there doing shitty things to people, but she’s leaving my family alone, so I’ll pretend she doesn’t exist. Maybe Ashley’s right and I do have an overdeveloped ‘help people’ complex. I mean, Petra existed for decades before I was even born, doing the same stuff. If I’d never met Alex’s grandfather, she’d still exist doing the same stuff. Not like it’s my cosmic responsibility to ‘punish evil’ or anything.
I step out of Michelle’s downstairs bathroom in my bathing suit, a little purple bikini, and pad down the hall to the kitchen and the patio doors leading to their deck. Did I mention Michelle’s parents have a ridiculously nice house?
“Good grief, Crystal,” says Mr. Gerard as I enter the kitchen. “Why is that girl naked?”
I blush.
“Oh, stop it, Will.” Michelle’s mother swats at him. “These are the sort of swimsuits they wear these days. And the girls are eighteen now.”
“Damn girl,” says Mrs. Gerard. “Are you feeling okay? You look so pale?”
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
“If you’re so alarmed by what she’s wearing, why do you keep staring at her?” asks Mrs. Gerard with a smile.
Mr. Gerard huffs and looks away, making a show of being embarrassed. The guy’s sweet and funny, but he’s not the sort of man I’d ever want angry with me. Ex-Army, muscular to the point he almost doesn’t have a neck, and okay, a little bit of a beer gut. He is, after all, old. Forty-one I think.
When Michelle walks by out on the deck in a black bikini that’s only slightly more modest than mine, Mr. Gerard feigns heart palpitations. That must be a dad thing… Ashley’s already in the pool, so pale she looks like someone dropped an iceberg in the water after wrapping it in a green bathing suit. Heh. We have something in common.
Hunter and Corey, both in swim trunks, sit next to each other by the patio table, sipping tea and talking about something football related. While Hunter’s not that into sports, he can hold his ground in a conversation about it. I make my way outside, still amazed that Michelle’s parents don’t find anything strange about our having a swim party on such an overcast day. Hey, we’re already in the pool, what’s more water if it starts raining?
Did I mention they have an awesome house? In-ground pool with connected hot tub.
We hang out, swim, and have fun for a while. Eventually, Hunter takes my hand and pulls me over to the hot tub. The warm water is amazing, and sucks all the energy straight out of me. I partially float, neck deep, savoring the tranquility. He threads his arms around my middle and pulls me back against him.
Ashley swims over the barrier separating the pool from the hot water, and glides with the grace of a mermaid to sit opposite us, a big grin on her face. A few minutes later, Michelle and Corey join us, gasping and oohing as they adjust to the heat. Ashley’s without a date, but she doesn’t seem to care. In fact, she’s rather chipper for flying solo.
Random conversation about the future, mostly school, drifts in and out with talk of movies, music, and idiots from their respective jobs.
“Back in a sec. Need to use the facilities.” Corey grabs the rim behind his back and pulls himself up out of the hot tub.
Ash and I both watch him walk around the pool.
“Wow,” says Ashley, once he disappears into the house.
“Hmm?” I ask.
“I just realized, Sarah doesn’t have to breathe.”
“You just realized that?” I chuckle.
“Umm?” asks Hunter. “That’s kinda random.”
“Well, I was thinking that skill could come in handy when in a hot tub with your boyfriend.” She wags her eyebrows at me. “If I’m doing the third wheel thing, I can give you some space.”
“Eww.” I cringe.
Ashley perks up, wide eyed. “Eww? You wouldn’t?”
Hunter fidgets. Keeping wisely silent.
“No. Yuck.” I stick my tongue out.
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” says Michelle.
Ashley scrunches her face. “Chelle, that’s a little strong isn’t it? It’s not that much fun to give.”
Michelle examines her fingernails, overacting her ‘street voice.’ “I ain’t talkin’ about no givin’.”
I giggle. “Corey would shatter into tiny pieces of embarrassment if he heard you say that.”
“Give me time.” Michelle leans back, smiling. “I will loosen that boy up eventually.”
“Hunter,” calls Mr. Gerard from the deck. “Mind giving me a hand with the food?”
“Yeah, no problem.” Hunter eases me to his left, stands, and climbs out of the hot tub.
Ashley glances after him, admiring the view.
I lean back and stare up at the heavy clouds before she sees my face, not trusting myself as to what might be written on it. A war starts up in my head. Would I be selfish for going all territorial on her over Hunter? I know her well enough to trust that she would never try to steal him from me. Not for a second do I even worry about that. But she’s also alive. So is he. Am I being crappy to him? What if he wanted kids or a normal family life? He hasn’t given me any reason to doubt he’s completely at ease with my vampire nature, but he is shy and awkward. Would he say anything even if he felt that way?
If anything starts up between them, should I step back and let things happen as they may? Hunter would be good to her. He’d definitely treat her properly. And they’re both caring, nice people. Every way I mentally approach the scenario, I keep coming back to being so tight with Ashley since we were little. I’ve only known Hunter for two months. I mean, sure we went to the same school for four years, but we barely said ten words to each other the whole time.
My death would’ve shattered Ashley, forever changing who she was. I’m sure had I been dating him when I was alive, my death would’ve messed him up for a while, but not to the same degree. Shit. I gotta stop being so morbid.
And no, I’m not going to push him away or try to set them up. But if a conflict starts, my loyalty lies with my best friend-slash-third-sister. I suppose that would also be giving Hunter what’s best for him, too. He deserves a mortal girl if that’s what he wants. Maybe they should be together.
I want them both to be as happy as possible. He doesn’t deserve this weird half-life he’s got with me. But, he loves me, and he’s been in love with me for years. He didn’t even care when I told him I was basically dead. Hey, if we get married someday, how does that whole ‘until death do you part’ thing work if one of us a vampire?
My mood shifts from gloom to giggling.
“Hey guys. Food,” says Hunter. He waves a hamburger at us.
Michelle and Ashley scramble out of the water like a pair of wild dogs smelling meat.
I’m alone with the water jets massaging my toes. Hunter barely waits a full minute before he gives me the ‘hey get over here’ wave, his mouth full.
Reluctantly, I climb up out of the wonderful hot water and stand there dripping on the concrete. I should eat something, too. Her parents don’t know about me and I need to keep up the illusion. Dealing with Petra’s claws was painful enough.
I am not going to mention the V word to Mr. Gerard.
Besides… this house is way too nice.
Wouldn’t want any blood on the walls.
29
Road Trip
Friday brings another annoying bright day. It’s not so bad I can’t go upstairs, but I am avoiding moving within five feet of any windows on the
ground floor. It’s nice enough weather that even Sierra is out back jumping around in the sprinklers. Either that or Dad demanded she get some ‘outside time’ or the PlayStation would vanish for a week.
I flop sideways on the living room sofa, watching the kids through the sliding glass door and vicariously playing in water with them. My parents could’ve afforded a pool, at least I think so, but we never got one. Not sure if it had something to do with the property, or the town, or merely them not wanting to blow through that much money. I’ve spent many past summers running around that backyard in lawn sprinklers.
But, I’m not a little kid anymore. Even if nothing supernatural had happened to me, I doubt I’d be frolicking with them. No, had I not died, I’d probably be off somewhere with Michelle and Ashley now, ignoring my siblings. Or at some lame summer job, anxious as hell about going to USC. It’s weird and paradoxical, but my mother’s dark thought had a lot of truth to it. My death might really have been the best thing that happened to our family. We wouldn’t be anywhere near this close otherwise. Not that we fought or anything, but still.
It’s kinda nice being so tight knit.
Dad wanders in. He stops at the end of the couch, lifts my feet up, sits, and rests my legs across his lap. “Hey, Sarah.”
“Hey, Dad.” I smile. “What’s up?”
“Well, I was just thinking. It’s the middle of July already and we haven’t even brought up the subject of the family road trip.”
Oh. My smile dies. “Hey, Dad, It’s fine. You guys go. Enjoy yourselves. I’m too old for that anyway. I don’t want the rest of the family to miss that because of me.”
“Dad,” says Sierra, creeping in from the kitchen. She’s in a bathing suit and soaked, shivering at the air-conditioning. “We don’t have to go. I’m okay staying home this summer.”
The fridge closes with a whump. Sofia and Sam, both holding juice boxes, walk in. They’re equally wet, but only Sophia is shivering.
Vampire Innocent_Book 3_The Artist of Ruin Page 27
