Authors: Jennifer Knight

Tags: #Social Issues, #Love & Romance, #Vampires, #College Students, #Juvenile Fiction, #Paranormal, #General, #Romance, #Werewolves, #Dating & Sex, #Fiction, #Occult & Supernatural

Blood Crave 2 (32 page)

BOOK: Blood Crave 2

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“It’s about Derek, isn’t it?”

I swallowed. “He asked me if I wanted to go night skiing with him. It’s supposed to be really cool, and he said he missed skiing. And I do too, sort of. It was fun minus the face-plant into the tree. Anyway, I thought I’d make it nice for him and go with.”

It was sort of the truth. Derek and the vampires
were
going night skiing tomorrow night on Keystone Mountain. They were taking their private jet to some five-star resort in the mountains and spending the weekend on the slopes. Derek had been talking about it for days.

Lucas pursed his lips and regarded me critically. “You’re just going because Derek asked?”

“Well,” I said carefully. “I also thought it might be a good chance to really talk to him about the vampire uprising. He’s still skeptical, but I don’t know ... maybe going off alone together will clear his head—help him see clearly what they’re doing with him.”

Lucas was nodding throughout this, so I figured he was convinced. It also played in my favor that I wasn’t totally lying about that last part.

“The vampires won’t be there?” he asked.

“No,” I lied.

He narrowed his eyes at me, trying to see if I was lying, no doubt, and I looked away. I was such a bad liar.

“Okay. I guess I’m cool with it.” He grabbed my chin and made me look at him. “
No
biting. If I see even a scratch on your neck, I’ll pulverize that kid.”

I gulped. “No problems there.”

He kissed me briefly and then stood up. “Speaking of food, I’m starved. Let’s jet.”

T
he next phase of the mission was considerably easier, even though I was still surprised by how readily Lucas accepted my little lie. He must really trust me. Or maybe I was a better fibber than I thought. I hoped it was the latter because I was about to do a load of fibbing this coming weekend.

Just after dark on Friday night, I called Derek from right outside his room.

“Derek Turner at your service,” he said, when he picked up.

“I have a surprise for you,” I said.

I heard him yawn. “You dumped the dog?”

“No.” I made a face at his door. “Come outside.”

“Is that you I hear out there? What are you doing here?”

“Just come here!”

Derek whipped the door open with the phone still stuck to his ear and took me in, standing in his doorway with a suitcase and a parka slung over my arm.

“I’m coming with you!” I said.

Derek dropped the phone and pulled me into a backbreaking hug, saying something that sounded very much like, “ohmy-goshyay!”

T
hat was, by far, the simplest and most enjoyable phase of the mission. The next ones were entirely too dangerous and destined to fail miserably. As Derek and I stood on the airplane hangar, waiting for the vampires to show up, I let my foot tap against the asphalt—the only clue to my inner turmoil I let show. On the outside I remained calm, channeling my inner Lucas and repressing every wave of panic that bubbled up in my chest.

Derek didn’t seem to notice, which was somewhat disappointing, because Derek usually noticed everything when it came to me. He kept his eyes fixed into the distance, his face unreadable. His vibe was thrilling with excitement, but tinged with something else. Worry. I wondered what he was thinking.

“You’re early!” said a smooth voice from behind us. We both turned and saw a group of people sauntering toward us, their mountains of baggage being towed behind them by airport employees. Calvin walked in front wearing an all-black suit that showed off the slimness of his body in the best way.

Even I, who hated this slime bucket more than anything else in the world, had to admit he looked very much like a young Brad Pitt.

Silas and Melissa flanked him on either side, each one with a human on their arm. Their pets, I guessed.

Calvin clapped Derek on the shoulder.

“Ready, buddy?” he asked jovially. He turned to me and his eyebrows shot up. “The dog let you borrow his bitch?”

Derek shrugged Calvin’s hand off. “Don’t call her that.”

“Merely a jest, Derek. Merely a jest.” His violet eyes were striking as he surveyed me head to toe.

With a cocky smirk, he turned and waved everyone up to the jet.

The inside was like a really expensive hotel room. Luxurious leather armchairs lined the beige walls, where there was a small flat screen for each one. There was a bar in the back that glittered with champagne bottles and decanters of dark liquid that had to be blood. A plump flight attendant stood next to Calvin’s chair, pouring some into his wine glass. I wondered if all the humans were blood bitches or just oblivious.

Probably the former.

Calvin took a sip of his drink, and I gagged as his teeth glistened with wet blood. Color flowed into his cheeks.

“Ahhhh,” he sighed, smacking his lips. “Lovely. . . . The boys are so sweet this time of year.”

More gagging from me.

Derek squeezed my hand and led me to the armchair next to his. Melissa and Silas began conversing in something that sounded like Chinese and shot furtive glances at me several times. I swallowed hard and tried not to look as suspicious as I felt. Calvin and Derek began talking about something having to do with football, but I couldn’t concentrate. I was utterly terrified and wishing with every bone in my body that I hadn’t gone through with this. I wished Lucas was with me.

As soon as we were in the air, the flight attendant approached me.

“A drink?” she inquired. She was a curvy lady with a tiny red-painted mouth and piggish eyes. She tilted her head to the side, and I realized she meant from her.

“No,” I squeaked.

Melissa giggled hideously from the armchair next to Calvin’s. She was pointing at me. Silas’s mouth ripped into a sneer as well.

They were playing a joke on me.

Nice.

Calvin looked up and said, “Now, now. Be nice to our guest or I’ll have the pilot turn this plane around!”

Derek’s smile was apologetic as he held his arms out, inviting me to sit on his lap. Normally, I would have refused, but I was too freaked out to worry about leading him on. I clambered over and leaned my head against his glacial chest. I shivered, and Derek looked up, snapping his fingers. The flight attendant hurried over with a thick woolen blanket, and Derek wrapped it tightly around me so that I felt like a baby kangaroo, all warm and safe in my pouch.

Except that it was possible that I might be eaten at any moment.

“How did they do that?” I asked, gesturing to the flight attendant.

“Make her offer herself to you?”

“That sounds so nasty,” I whispered. “But yeah. How do they mess with our minds? Is it magic?”

“It’s like hypnotics. They can make you see stuff or do stuff. Only the really old ones can do it. It takes a lot of practice.”

“So if they can use hypnotics, why do they bother with all the blood bitch stuff?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “It figures you’d call them that.”

“That’s what they are, aren’t they?”

“The ‘blood bitches’ aren’t like what Lucas says. They’re not all crazy drug addicts. Most bloodies—”

“
Bloodies?
” I spurted.

“Blood buddies,” Derek said smiling. “Not bitches.”

I recomposed myself. “Same difference. They’re drug whores.”

“No, no,” Derek said. “That’s just some of them—the radicals. Most bloodies use the stuff inconsistently and only in small doses. They know how ... ah, temperamental some of the vampires can get, so they don’t stick around for long.”

“You mean they know that the vampires will eventually kill them?”

Derek just shrugged. “Anyway,” he said. “The vampires don’t like using hypnotics unless it’s unavoidable. It takes a lot of their strength when they do it, so it leaves them vulnerable to attack.”

“So why’d they just use it for me?”

“Because who’s going to attack them here?”

“True,” I said. “So can you do it, too?”

“Nope. Not yet, at least.” His eyes twinkled at me, but I wasn’t impressed.

“What about Calvin?”

Derek frowned. “I don’t know. But I know Silas can do it. He’s almost three hundred years old, can you believe that?”

“Yes,” I said, thinking he was younger than Lucas was. “I wonder if it works on me.”

This last statement was a lie—my first of many. I knew hypnotics worked on me. Vincent had made me see Derek bleeding that night in the woods. I’d told Derek about it when I’d given him the Vincent rundown many weeks earlier. So, I fake-wondered this aloud to get Derek to bring up Vincent, which would, in turn, allow me to bring up the murders without looking suspicious. But he didn’t bring Vincent up.

Instead he gave me a funny look and said, “Why wouldn’t it work on you?”

This threw me. “Be-because I’m special. Maybe hypnotics don’t work on me.”

Derek sighed like I was being difficult on purpose.

“Calvin said I was,” I argued. I didn’t want to go into what Yvette and Lucas knew about my power, so I just stuck to what Derek knew.

Calvin’s voice rang through the cabin, “What did Calvin say?”

I blinked and he was sitting on my armrest. “You said I was special,” I muttered. “Like Paula.”

“Ah, yes. Indeed, you are!”

“Derek doesn’t believe me,” I said, sounding too much like a sullen child.

Calvin gasped and threw his hand to his chest. “Derek, how could you debate such a thing, when she is so obviously unique?”

“Come on,” he said. “Quit playing around and tell her the truth. There’s nothing special about her.”

Ouch . . . that was a tad harsh.

He must have seen my face and said, exasperated, “You know what I mean. You don’t have powers or whatever.”

“Oh, but she does,” Calvin said. He turned to me. “What exactly is your little gift, Faith Reynolds?”

For a moment, I debated over telling them the truth, but my “little gift,” as they were calling it, was useless around them, since I couldn’t control their emotions. They’d supposedly killed the last person with this gift, but I had Derek with me so I felt sure they’d never try anything. Besides, I didn’t have to tell them I could control the werewolves.

“I feel emotions,” I said. “Like vibes rolling off of people.”

Derek snorted derisively.

“Don’t laugh,” Calvin admonished. “This is a serious matter. You must help her to hone her skills. As her master it is your duty.” Then he paused as if remembering something. “But, oh . . . she isn’t your pet at all, is she? She belongs to the dogs.”

Derek’s body tensed.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” I said hotly.

Calvin snickered. “Yes, you keep saying that, but sooner or later, darling, you’re going to have to pick a side.”

BOOK: Blood Crave 2

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