Overworld Chronicles Books 1-2: Sweet Blood of Mine & Dark Light of Mine (8 page)

"I know that, but—"

She put a finger to my lips and shook her head, so I shut my mouth. Sometimes the hardest part of asking for advice is actually taking it to heart. I'd done things my way for long enough and look where that got me: relying on a Goth chick for fashion advice.

Crye held my hair so it stood on end. She looked from Ash to Nyte to me and grunted like a doctor who'd just found a potentially hazardous anomaly in someone's brain scan. "You have coarse hair. I think you should cut it to about six inches and spike it."

"Spike my hair?"

"Her mom owns a fancy salon. I'd listen to her," Ash said.

Crye wore her long black hair straight with a simple part down the middle like the matriarch from the Addams Family. The day before she had worn it in pink-bowed pigtails. If it weren't for the shrapnel-like piercings all over her face and the deathly white makeup, she might actually look cute. I could almost stand everything except the nose and tongue studs. The hygiene issues those posed made me want to barf.

"I can get you a friend's discount," she said.

A lump formed in my throat. I couldn't understand what I'd done to deserve a friend's discount from people I'd more or less looked down upon until a day ago. I hadn't done a thing to deserve the kindness of these people except turn myself into a social outcast. I cleared my throat, but my reply still came out a little gravelly.

"Thanks," I said. "I'll do it." I gave her my number and went to class.

After school, I went to a gym I'd passed a million times before on the way home, and inquired about personal training.

"I want someone who will really whip me into shape," I told the short skinny guy who signed me up. I hoped he wasn't a trainer. His arms looked like noodles.

He pursed his lips and looked me over. "I know just the person."

I looked around the gym and spotted several people with the blue trainer shirts on. One was a stocky black guy with arms thicker than this guy's waist. "How about him?"

"George?" He tsked. "He's booked right now. I can put you on the waiting list."

I scanned the area but the other trainers looked just as out of shape as their trainees. I wasn't about to waste money or time. I needed results. "Yeah, put me on his list, please."

"In the meantime, I'll put you with one of our best. Vic."

Vic sounded like the name of a swarthy Italian guy from New Jersey. A guy who could teach me street smarts and help me get six-pack abs all at the same time.

"Sounds good, thanks." I paid for two months up front and hoped by then I would know what I was doing and wouldn't need a trainer anymore. I couldn't afford to keep one for long anyway. The cash I'd stolen from my parents wouldn't last forever, and since neither Dad nor I worked, we had zero income.

Come to think of it, I didn't know how he was paying for the house or utilities. He'd been buying enough beer to supply a frat house, and I didn't have a clue where the money was coming from. Things looked bleak. All my ambitions could come crashing to the ground if we got kicked into the streets. Being homeless seemed like the crown jewel on my mountain of fail. I would have to do something about his issues sooner or later.

After school the next day I had my first appointment with my trainer. I put on my gym shorts, a sleeveless T-shirt to show off my chubby arms, and examined myself in the mirror before I left. I pulled up my shirt and grabbed a roll of pale jelly belly. My belly button was deep enough to store a short stack of dimes. My man boobs sagged from lack of a man bra. Vic had his work cut out for him.

I went to the gym and looked for someone fitting the profile of a low-level thug from a New Jersey mafia family before giving up and going to the trainers' desk. A redhead with ripped abs and enough freckles to form constellations on her otherwise forgettable face looked up as I approached.

"I'm looking for Vic."

"That's me," she said. "Justin?"

"Yeah," I said, trying not to voice my disappointment. I needed someone like George to get me in shape, not an aerobics queen. I hoped George's waiting list wasn't too long. "How does a girl get a name like Vic?"

"Short for Victoria." She shrugged. "You can call me either. Just don't call me Vicky. Can't stand that name."

She hopped up and motioned me to follow. After the dreaded weigh-in, she calculated my body fat percentage first with calipers and then with an electronic device I held in my hands. I think I maxed it out. Then she measured my biceps, my chest, my waist, and my legs. By the time we finished, my thirty-minute session was halfway over and I was impatient to start pumping iron.

"What's all this for?" I asked.

"We're setting a baseline," she explained. "Otherwise we can't measure progress." She looked at the numbers she'd collected and shook her head. "Besides, you won't last more than ten minutes."

"Gee, thanks."

Six minutes later I was drenched in sweat and staggering around in a haze of breathless agony, ready to drop dead on the floor. Victoria made me walk back and forth until the incredible pain in my body faded. I had pretty much lived down to her expectations. On the bench press I'd struggled to lift a meager hundred pounds. For back, shoulders, and legs, I'd performed about as well as a person with no muscles.

"It's normal to do crappy your first day in the gym," she said in a not-so-reassuring way. "A month from now you'll be doing much better."

"A month from now I'll be dead," I said, feeling as though I would keel over at any moment.

"Drink two gallons of water between now and tomorrow," she said. "I prepared a list of foods you can have. Stay away from everything else."

I glanced at the list: chicken breasts, wild-caught fishes, whole grains, and all the green vegetables I wanted. "I can't cook."

"It's easy. Just broil chicken breasts. Google for recipes and you'll be okay."

I wondered if there was anything Google couldn't help me with. "What about fat-free microwave dinners?"

"Absolutely not. Anything processed is crap. You know all the agony you went through today?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want it to be for nothing? I'm not lying when I say eighty percent of body composition is what you eat. Exercise can only do so much. Garbage in, garbage out."

I sighed. "Okay. I'll do whatever it takes."

She smiled, revealing straight white teeth. "See you Wednesday. Rest well until then."

I gulped what felt like a gallon of water from the water fountain before I left and still felt thirsty. I turned to leave so my fat bottom wouldn't keep other parched souls from enjoying a drink and plowed into a cute girl in tight gym shorts and a yellow tank top that adhered to the kinds of curves men drooled over. "Sorry," I muttered, trying to get out of her way.

"You are rather hardcore," she said in a very proper British accent. "It is quite awesome, dude."

"That's me," I said. "Zero to hardcore in ten minutes." I wondered if she was making fun of me or if the British naturally had issues using the words "dude" and "awesome".

She laughed, deep throated, sexy, and hormone-sizzling. Compact but muscular and a little shorter than me, she wore her yellow blonde hair in a tight bun. Her skin was pale but slightly flushed. If she'd been working out, it didn't show. Not even a sheen of sweat glistened on her body.

"I'm Stacey." She held out her hand.

I took it, noticing how warm it felt. "I'm Justin."

"You are
quite
the handsome one," she said and ran a finger up my arm.

My hackles rose. My vision snapped like someone had put a picture on a rubber band, pulled it taut, and let it go. Two Staceys looked back at me and then my eyes lost focus. I massaged my forehead and rubbed my eyes under my glasses, trying to ward off the inevitable headache.

"Are you quite all right?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose and opened my eyes. The dizziness faded and my eyesight returned. I looked into her amber eyes. Her pupils weren't round. They were vertical slits. I massaged my eyelids again, convinced my eyesight had gone crazy. "Just a headache," I said. "Must be allergies."

"I was just about to depart," she said. "Would you be so kind as to walk me to my horseless—my auto-mobile?"

"Sure," I said in a very cool and experienced manner so as not to give away the sudden tidal wave of hormones threatening to overwhelm me on the spot. One workout and I already had a hottie after me! Things were looking up.

Okay, so I was probably counting my chickens way before hatching—and possibly before the eggs were even laid—but the rough workout combined with a sudden flush of testosterone made me dangerously full of myself. I grabbed my keys from the locker room, forcing myself to walk in a composed manner even though I had a sneaking suspicion she'd be gone by the time I came back out. When I returned, she was still there. Amazing. She flashed her pearly whites in a full-lipped smile that almost caused an accident in my pants. We stepped outside into the pleasantly chilly autumn night.

"This time of year is simply delightful," Stacey said. She took a deep sniff. I hoped she didn't get a whiff of my BO. She grabbed my arm and drew another deep breath. "You smell delicious."

I smiled and prayed my shirt was covering up my body's reaction to her touch. "Yep, it's a great time of year." We were walking toward the side parking lot of the building. I wondered if maybe I should ask her to go with me somewhere to grab a bite to eat when something like warm wet sandpaper rasped up my arm and to my shoulder. I snapped my focus to the aforementioned shoulder.

Stacey was licking it.

"What are you doing?" I asked and jerked away from her. It wasn't that I minded a girl licking me, but something was just plain wrong with the way she was doing it and the way her tongue felt.

Her eyes stared into mine. Her vertically-slit pupils widened into deep black swirling pools. I felt myself losing a grip on consciousness. My vision snapped again and I staggered backwards, thankfully breaking the hypnotic embrace of her eyes.

"Your kind is so luscious," Stacey said in a low purr. "So sweet. But so hard to convince."

"My kind of what?" I said backing away as tendrils of cold fear spread through my stomach and into my chest. "Sweaty fat boys?"

She bared her teeth like a lion about to pounce.

I ran.

Chapter 9

Usually I wouldn't flee from cute girls, but this time I was willing to make an exception. Something was seriously wrong with this chick. I huffed and puffed and made a frantic beeline for my car near the back of the dark parking lot. I looked behind me. Stacey was nowhere to be seen. I stopped and doubled over as an acute hitch stabbed into my side.

My legs felt like molten rubber. I cursed Victoria and her hardcore workout. I cursed my terrible physical state. As I panted like a dog in a heat wave, I scanned the gym parking lot for any sign of Stacey. Was this a joke? Was one of Katie or Brad's friends punking me? Anger scoured the fear from me. I clenched my teeth. I was willing to bet by the time I got home, there'd be a YouTube video of chubby me fleeing from a girl.
Those butt sphincters!
I looked around one last time but Stacey—if that was her real name—had vanished. I clutched at the stitch in my side and hobbled for my car.

A warm hand touched my neck. I shrieked like a little girl in a helium factory. Stacey stood behind me. Just great. Now they'd have video of me screaming too.

"You think this is funny?" I yelled. "Who put you up to this? Katie? Brad? Harry? Nathan?"

Stacey's full scarlet lips stretched into a languorous smile. Her pupils resembled vertical black slits in a sea of sparkling amber. Whoever had done her makeup had done a great job. I really needed to get them to help me out for Halloween.

"I am unacquainted with these people of whom you speak. Perhaps we could continue this conversation at a more comfortable location." Her British accent was even more clipped and proper than before, making her all the creepier.

"Ha, ha," I said, using the full brunt of my extreme wit. "Nice act, but you're not fooling me anymore." I turned to walk away.

Something like hot steel clamped onto my arm and spun me around. Stacey opened her mouth in a broad grin. Correction: She bared her teeth. She pressed me against a black SUV. I struggled uselessly in her iron grip. This wasn't right. Her smile widened to reveal long sharp canines. Was she a vampire? She sure as hell wasn't a mermaid.

Also, I was almost a hundred-percent sure someone wasn't punking me now. This chick was for real and I was about to die or become fatally anemic.

"You smell divine," Stacey said. "A pity I couldn't convince you to accompany me to my home. I would so enjoy taking my time with you. Your kind is exceptional, so much better than ordinary kine. So raw and emotional."

I didn't know what in the world "kine" meant. It wouldn't matter shortly. My track record with women was about to get markedly worse. Or maybe being sucked dry by a vampiric hottie was a decent way to go. Except I wouldn't be around to brag about it, which was kind of depressing.

Stacey pressed both my shoulders against the van. I struggled like a mouse under a cat's paw, but might as well have been clamped in place by steel bands. She pressed her pert nose to my neck and inhaled deeply.

"Such a young tender fledgling." She licked me with her sandpaper tongue again. I wondered if this was the same as sniffing a warm apple pie before chomping it.

"Maybe it's my Axe body spray," I said. My voice trembled and my body started to shake. I drew upon every bit of willpower I had left and rammed my knee into her stomach. My knee met a plate of steel. I yelped. The girl must do serious ab workouts.

She laughed. "Such spirit. Such fear." Her nose nuzzled my ear playfully. The faster my heart thudded in my chest, the louder she purred with happiness.

"What are you? A vampire?"

She let out a deep-throated laugh. "My little lamb, you are so precocious." Her hot lips pressed against my neck and traced up to my ear, leaving a hot trail on my skin. She nibbled my earlobe. I expected the sharp sting of those fangs at any moment. She faced me with half-lidded eyes. Her purring grew louder and her eyes widened until she seemed to gaze into my very soul with those luminous amber moons. Something tugged at my fear as though it were a large fish swimming in my sea of emotions. A part of me resisted the pull, jerking and flailing. Another part of me rejoiced in the sheer ecstasy of the moment. But the numbing warmth only increased the terror slamming my heart against its ribcage. I fought harder but my will faltered. Those eyes had the gravity of stars and I was a helpless planet about to be sucked into oblivion.