Bite Me! (14 page)

Yeah, it was like that, only I didn't feel a connection to just one person. It was like being tied to a collection of souls.

I threw myself into a pair of jeans, my favorite Ramones T-shirt, and jeweled flip-flops. After I rewrapped my palm, I ran downstairs to clear the fog from my brain with a hemoshake and a side of toast.

Aunt Doreen came in carrying a large basket overflowing with a rainbow of vegetables, including the prettiest, fattest, reddest tomatoes I had ever seen. “There ye are, dearie. I'll fix ye a proper meal if ye'll give me a moment.”

“Thanks, Aunt Doreen, but I'm about to head out. I'm working on a special project with one of my teachers.”

“It must be a verra special project for your teacher to miss work.”

“I think it is. We were researching one myth and we uncovered another. It's fascinating.”

“I bet it is. Would that book have anythin' to do with yer research?” she asked, pointing to the book Jill had sent me.

“Yes, ma'am.”

She dumped the basket into the sink and hung her wide-brimmed hat on the wall hook by the door. “Mind if I snitch a look?” she asked, taking the book from me. “Where's yer necklace? Grown tired of it already?” she asked.

“Oh, I forgot to put it back on after my shower.” Aunt Doreen flipped the book open as I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh, shi—I mean, crap. I'm gonna be late! Sorry, Aunt D. Can I show this to you later?”

“Of course,” she said, handing the book back. “Ariel, dear. Be careful digging up old bones. Sometimes they don't want to be uncovered.”

I slid off my barstool and bent to kiss Aunt Doreen on the cheek. She was really growing on me. “I'll be careful. We're just researching myths for a paper.”

“Sometimes there's a fair thin line betwixt fable and
fact, my dear. Old bones should rest in peace. Here,” she said as she slipped a small herb bouquet into my bag. “I just love the way these keep everything smelling so fresh, don't you?”

I laughed. “Are you suggesting I'm stinky?”

“Maybe a wee bit.”

Note to self: Switch deodorant.

M
r. Charles pulled into the parking lot about five seconds after I did. Jill met us on the front porch.

“Come on in!” she said, ushering us into the bookstore. “I've got the tables cleared off in the back, and you two can stay as long as you like.”

“Thanks for letting us intrude, Jill,” Mr. Charles said.

“Morris, friends are never an imposition. You know that.”

I snickered. I couldn't help myself. “Seriously, Morris?”

“I told you, it's a very respectable name,” Jill chastised me. “I'll bring y'all some tea and cookies in a little while.
If you need anything, Morris knows his way around.”

“Thanks, Jill. You're the best,” I said. “Now, where do we start?”

“This book is supposed to be a translation of the scrolls. It makes me wonder if there was ever a translation done of the runes,” Mr. Charles said. He slid his messenger bag off his shoulder and pulled out his Mac PowerBook.

He pulled up Google and entered his search words. Great, only two million possible matches. No problem.

“Okay, why don't you weed through some of these hits and see if you can narrow the search a little. I'll start comparing the scrolls to the text and see how closely they translate.”

He handed me the laptop and I started sifting through the pages and pages of website hits.

Four hours and one headache later, I finally pulled my eyes off the screen. “I think I've got something here,” I said. I placed the laptop on the table.

Mr. Charles put down the book, took off his reading glasses, and rubbed his eyes. “Just in time. I need a change of pace.”

“I found an obscure reference to the Frieceadans on a Wikipedia page that I followed to this site. Look at this.”

Mr. Charles put his glasses back on and started to read.
“Many believe the Frieceadans were victims of the genocidal Serpentines, but in the book
The Bloody Truth
we discover there was more to the story. Trouble started when the Serpentines learned of the runes' hidden power.”

“What do you think?” I asked.

“It's somewhere to start. It makes sense that the Serpentines would be after something powerful—especially if that power was somehow connected to the scrolls.”

“Mr. Charles, this is all just mythology. You act like there are really vampires walking among us.”

“That's because I believe there are. But people are so afraid of the monsters in the past that they can't see the humans they've become.”

“I've just never met anyone who was so open-minded about this stuff.”

He smiled and went back to reading. Mom's warning bounced around in my head, reminding me not to trust anyone with our secret. But it was so tempting. I had lived a lie my whole life, and here was someone who would be willing to listen and not judge me for being different.

I stood and stretched.

There are two paths to your fate. Which road will you travel down?

My knees buckled. Where was the voice coming from?

I had been trying very hard to deny my connection to the scrolls and anything with my Serpentine history. I lived so much in denial of my vampire side that I had almost convinced myself all this really was for a paper and not for me. The fact was, I knew I hadn't killed Noah now, so why was I so hell-bent on continuing this research?

Do not deny your destiny. Do not ignore your history. Embrace both parts of your soul.

“I know why the Serpentines are after the Runes of Destiny!” Mr. Charles suddenly exclaimed, showing me the screen. “Apparently they believe the runes control time. With all the runes in place, one could travel into the past to change the future. Imagine how different the world would be today if the runes fell into the wrong hands. The high council was formed to protect both the scrolls and the runes. Each member of the council became a key holder. Guardianship was passed down through the generations. Only those bearing the mark of a key holder would be granted access to the secrets of the runes and the scrolls.”

Mr. Charles put the computer down and looked at
me with excitement-laced eyes. “Do you know what this means?” Mr. Charles asked.

“Not a clue.”

“It means,” he said with an exasperated sigh, “that if there is one shred of truth to this, then you, my friend, could be a key holder.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny, Mr. Charles,” I said, not thinking it funny at all.

“I've seen your reaction to the scrolls, AJ. There's not a doubt in my mind. You are linked to them—by blood.”

“Fine. I've had a reaction. But how on earth does that make me a key holder?”

“The text says the key holders are drawn to and marked by the scrolls. I think you need to tell me the truth now, AJ.”

“There's nothing to tell,” I said, nervously playing with the bandage on my palm.

“I think there is.” Mr. Charles stood, walked over to me, and took my bandaged hand in his. He gently pulled the tape off and, just before he pulled the cotton pad off to reveal my scar, I closed my fist.

“I'm thirsty. Want a Coke?” I turned to walk away, but he pulled me back.

“AJ, don't be frightened.” He pushed my hair behind
my ear and smiled. “It's okay. You can tell me anything. I will not reject you. I promise.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

Be careful where you put your trust. What does your heart say?

Dammit! As much as my gut screamed to trust him, that voice kept telling me no. And I felt compelled to listen.

“I need to go home,” I said. “I promised Mom I wouldn't be late for dinner, and it's already five o'clock.”

Mr. Charles pulled me into a hug, which was just the incentive my tears needed to fall. Fine. I'm a big ol' titty-baby. Whatever.

“Whenever you're ready,” he said, ending the hug and wiping my tears away with his thumb. “I'm here. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Let me talk to Jill real quick about this new information. I'm betting she can help us find this book. Then I'll take you home.”

“No. That's okay. I can drive.” My cell phone rang as I packed up. I left the scrolls on the table, refusing to touch them again, then walked to my car and answered.

“Hello,” I said without looking at the caller ID.

“Hey. Can we talk?”

I sighed. It was Bridget.

“It's a free country. Talk away,” I said.

“Will you promise you won't hang up?”

“I won't promise you anything.”

“I'm so sorry, AJ. I saw Malia today and she told me you were really mad at me.”

“I am.” How did Malia know? I hadn't told her that.

“I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“Well, you did. You laughed at me, and you're supposed to be my best friend. I've needed you all week and you've totally tossed me to the side for Grady.”

“I know. But you're acting all weird and stuff. And I don't get what it is you need from me. Am I really supposed to believe you could hear voices coming to you from those scrolls?”

“Yes. You are. Because why would I lie about that?”

“I don't think you're lying, exactly.”

“But you don't believe me. See, that's what I need from you, to believe me.” I said.

This time she sighed. It was a heavy, sad sound and it told me all I needed to hear.

“I've gotta go, Bridge.”

“AJ—” I heard her say as I clicked my phone shut, cutting her off.

My heart weighed a ton, and more tears welled up in a knot in my throat. I started the car, and to avoid having a pity party I got lost in thought on the drive home.

I had wanted to tell Mr. Charles everything, but at the risk of losing the only ally I really had right now, I couldn't open up. Mom's warning to be careful nagged at me. Right now, it had to be enough that Mr. Charles accepted I might have vampire lineage somewhere in my family. That was more than even my supposed BFF could do.

I really couldn't trust anyone because there was another vampire out there—and the product of his work was unbreathing down my neck. And using my family's safety to keep me in check. I had to be very careful. Probably taking that run this morning hadn't been such a great idea. Duh.

Of course, if I were to believe the information we found today, then the runes would be worth killing for. They could travel back in time to change the future. What a great way to ensure the fate of your clan. But according to the lore, you'd need one Frieceadan and one Serpentine key holder to access the location of the runes. And by all accounts, the Frieceadans had been wiped out.

By my ancestors.

Good God. I didn't know what to believe anymore. Hell, I know for a fact I'm a vampire, and I'm having a hard time believing
I'm
real.

I walked into the kitchen to find Oz and the twins digging through Ryan's backpack.

“What are y'all into now?” I asked.

“Nothing,” they said in unison.

“Whatever it is, just stay away from my stuff, got it?”

They all nodded and went back to their snooping. I was walking through the kitchen toward the stairs when I overheard Ryan and Rayden whispering.

“You seriously haven't found it?” Rayden asked.

“Seriously. It's pissing me off, too,” Ryan said. “I should have it because I have the, um, other stuff that goes with it.”

“Have you looked everywhere? You know, maybe in a not so obvious place. Like where I found mine.”

“Duh. Ya think? I've looked everywhere. And I do mean
everywhere
.”

“I don't know what it is you're looking for, but if it's in your backpack, the twins will find it before you do,” I said loudly as I walked up the stairs.

“Dammit!” Ryan yelled. “Oz, where did the girls go? They were just here!”

I laughed all the way to my room. Boy, that felt good.

I opened the door and jumped when I saw Malia sitting on my bed. “You scared the crap outta me. I didn't know you were here. Where's your car?”

“I felt like taking a walk and the twins let me in. So, tell me what happened today.”

“I'll do you one better—I'll show ya.”

I grabbed my laptop off my bedside table and noticed the window box had fallen to the ground. “Aw. My pretty new window box must've come loose. Gotta remember to tell Aunt Doreen.” Sitting on the bed next to Malia, I pulled up the website Mr. Charles and I had found.

“Time travel? Really?” Malia asked skeptically while reading the website.

“It seems the Serpentines thought so. Not sure what I believe. But I guess all that matters is what they believed and what they were willing to do to find the runes.”

“I talked to Bridget today. She seems really upset,” Malia said.

“Yeah. She's upset, but not enough to believe me.”

“You don't need friends like that.”

My heart sank with that statement. “I miss us. We were three peas in a pod.”

“Sometimes people change.” Malia's cell phone
beeped. She pulled it off her hip and flipped it open to read the message.

Her mouth dropped open. “No way.”

“What?” I asked.

“Go to your Facebook page,” Malia said.

“Okay, but why? I haven't been there all week.”

I typed in the address and nearly passed out when my site came up. New pictures of me and Mr. Charles had been uploaded to my profile. Lots of them. Pics of us hugging, of him touching my face, of my head on his shoulder. Most of them were from today, but some looked like they had been poorly Photoshopped. There was even a picture that looked like we were kissing.

“We didn't…I don't…Who? Why?” I couldn't speak because there wasn't a coherent thought in my brain.

“I don't know, but this isn't good. Crap. If I'm getting a text, then that means everyone has seen it by now.”

The house phone and my cell phone rang simultaneously, and for about the hundredth time this week all hell seemed to break loose in my world.