Vampire Crush (7 page)

Voices echo in front of me. “Ingrate” cuts through the murmur, and I stop—individual words mean that I’m too close. We walk this way until the pale orange light shining out of the leaves in front of me suggests that they’ve reached the central clearing. I stretch my ears as far as they wil go. When it sounds like Vlad is no longer moving, I crouch behind the largest bush I can find, located about ten feet to the left of the makeshift trail. Trying not to make any noise, I peer through the branches.

Vlad is pacing back and forth, pausing every so often to kick at rocks and twigs on the ground. “Can you believe him?” he seethes. “He said that he wanted to help, and then what do I hear today? Maybe I should forget about the Danae and stay here because people like me, as if that is so difficult to believe.”

“I told you from the beginning that I thought he was weird,”

Marisabel says from where she’s stretched across a pitted picnic table.

“And I told you it was fine!” Vlad snaps.

Marisabel just shrugs, rol ing on her back to stare up at an open copy of
Twilight
. Her long brown hair cascades over the edge. It sways as she shakes her head back and forth.

“This is not right at al ,” she says. “Edward is dreamy, though. Maybe you could get some tips.”

“Oh, could I?” Vlad asks, playful, before stalking into view and twisting the book out of her hands. Pages flapping, it sails over her head and crashes into the trees behind her. Marisabel pushes herself up and frowns at the spot where it disappeared. “Hey! That was Jennifer Pierson’s.”

Vlad dips into a mocking bow. “Do offer her my condolences. Tel her I wil provide her with a new one should we ever achieve our main objective,” he says and then starts to pace. “Can you believe them? Nevil e does nothing but attach himself to any organization that wil have him, and Violet … yesterday Violet asked if I wanted to participate in a ‘quiz’ that wil tel me what my ‘best fal look’

is,” he says. “What does that even mean?”

“Mine is eggplant,” Marisabel offers absently. “And scarves.”

“So what if I need a little real refreshment?” Vlad continues. “It’s the least I deserve after everything I’ve done to make this work. Do you know how difficult it was to get everyone registered? How much power it took out of me?”

he insists. “Not to mention the constant questions from the attendance office. Despite the vacant expressions on their faces, the adults here are not nearly as dul as I would like. Today one of the old crones in the office started asking questions. I had to stare into her shriveled eyes for five minutes before she went back to her work.” He stops to kick a clod of dirt, hard enough that it shatters against a tree. “I felt drained al day. It took al of my wil power not to tear into that girl in English.”

My spine stiffens. He’s talking about me. He’s talking about tearing into me. As refreshment. I can’t tel if it’s my building sense of unease that’s making it hard to comprehend this, or if he’s real y saying what I think he’s saying. But that would mean … No. No more
Buffy
reruns. Ever. I try to force my mind back to the conversation, determined to come up with a non-insane explanation.

“What girl?” Marisabel asks. So far she’s been mostly silent, but now he has her ful attention.

“Oh, you know,” Vlad says. “The unadorned, forthright one who dresses like she is preparing to slaughter a pig.” After Marisabel’s blank look, he adds, “The one James trailed after al day. The one with al the ridiculous questions.”

The insult seems to appease her; she settles back on the table like a content tiger. “If the blond one isn’t it, who’s next?”

“I do not know,” Vlad says, kicking a stick this time.

“Perhaps one of the friends. I wil start again tomorrow. But for now—dinner!” he says, his voice suddenly bright. “Try that bush; I thought I saw something earlier.”

He claps his hands and fixes his gaze across the clearing. I peer around the lowest branch just in time to spot Devon and Ashley hefting two large branches from the scattered leaves. When they start to thrash the bushes, my stomach lurches; the chance that they’re beating the brush in the hopes that chicken nuggets wil emerge, screaming and running for their lives, is slim to none. It makes sense, my brain insists, and starts to fil in the pieces. The weirdness. The strange staring contests. The lack of parents. The wonder that is Violet. James’s warnings. The empty cooler. And the missing blood. Oh God, the missing blood. How could I be so stupid? They’re vampires, or at least under a number of severe delusions.

Jesus, Sophie, the guy’s name is Vlad.

I bite my tongue to stop from giving a hysterical little laugh, and tel myself that when I get home I’l be able to work out a far more rational explanation. But right now? I need to leave. Fast. Devon and Ashley are only a quarter of the way around the clearing, so there’s time. Boosting myself into a crouch, I glance backward. Twenty more feet and I’l be out of immediate hearing range, at which point I wil sprint back to my car.

Suddenly I hear a rustle, fol owed by an excited cry. The leaves crunch as a smal bal of fur makes a startled beeline for my bush. The rabbit bursts between the leaves and then crouches at its base, terrified and trembling. Before I can react, I hear the sound of two very large men barreling in my direction. If I run now, they wil see me. No question. I stare into the rabbit’s glassy eyes, hypnotized by fear. Think, think, think. “Here’s my contact!” I wil say. “That wil teach me to stop making out so much after school.” Insert nervous chuckle; try not to faint dead at their feet.

Devon and Ashley bend down to peer under the hanging leaves of the bush, and the rabbit darts to the side, running for better cover. Their shadows move, and I hear a shril squeak, fol owed by a sickening snap and Vlad’s shout that he wasn’t supposed to kil it yet. Even though I want to vomit, the rabbit’s flight has given me my chance to escape. I ready my legs to launch myself forward just as a swish of footsteps sounds to my right.

“Hel o?”

Lindsay’s voice echoes in the startled silence. Launching myself back at the bush, I frantical y shove branches out of the way so I can see clearly. Crap, crap, crap. What is she doing here?

Lindsay stands in the center of the clearing, clutching a blue binder to her chest like it’s the last life vest on the
Titanic
. Next to Vlad and the two giants, she appears even tinier than usual. Her auburn hair catches the last glimmers of sunlight, throwing her pale face into even sharper contrast. She looks nervous, and very, very vulnerable. Al except for the determined jut of her chin.

“I’m looking for James,” Lindsay says, hugging the binder tighter and moving back a few steps when Vlad starts to approach. “Wel , information about James, real y. I heard you mention him earlier in the hal s, and I wondered if you could tel me a little bit about him.” She takes a deep breath. “Just a few things. It’s important.”

Vlad looks almost jovial. “Important?” He moves closer, forcing Lindsay to retreat to the edge of the trees, before he throws a playful look at Marisabel. “I fear I know very little. James is a private soul. How about the rest of you?”

Devon and Ashley shake their heads, their most communicative gesture to date. They’re standing rigidly, hands behind their backs. Marisabel doesn’t answer at first, just looks at him for a few long seconds.

“Vlad, don’t do anything you wil regret,” she says softly.

“I am only trying to assist a fel ow schoolmate,” he says with grating innocence and then leans over so he’s more on Lindsay’s level. “So,” he purrs. “What is your name?”

“Lindsay Al en,” she says weakly, having now completed what appears to be a total body meld with her binder.

“And tel me, Lindsay Al en, do you have any

distinguishing marks on your person?”

Disarmed, Lindsay’s wariness evaporates. “What?”

Vlad waves a hand in the air. “Any birthmarks, moles, rashes that spel out your mother’s maiden name … you know, marks!” He frowns down at her uncomprehending face. “How do you say it? Ah, yes, ‘work with me here.’ “

Lindsay pushes her shoulders back and pul s herself up to her ful height. “This was a bad idea. I’m going now. Sorry to bother you. Please let James know that I am looking for him.”

“I wil take that as a ‘no,’” Vlad says and then grabs her arm before she can move. “Not so hasty. I have a final question for you.”

Lindsay orders him to let her go, her voice high, her cool composure cracking. She tugs against his grip, but Vlad just pul s her closer. Leaning down, he acts like he’s about just pul s her closer. Leaning down, he acts like he’s about to whisper in her ear, but his next question rings out clear and strong.

“Do you think that anyone wil miss you?”

There’s a stil moment, and then everyone’s moving at once. Marisabel springs off the picnic table and runs over to Vlad, latching onto his bicep and yel ing that it’s time to leave. She might as wel be a gnat; Vlad shrugs her off, continuing to smirk as Lindsay struggles against his grip. Devon and Ashley push in closer, putting themselves between her and the beaten-down path. Lindsay’s gaze bangs about wildly, searching for an escape until Vlad jerks her close and grabs her chin, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. Her wrist goes limp.

Through the shock, the panic, and the guilt, the thought that has been running through my mind final y takes shape.
This is bad. You have to do something. Snap out of it.
I don’t think long about what to do—I can’t think long. After al , stupidity got me into this, maybe stupidity wil get me out. I push my way through the bushes.
Eyes. Avoid the
eyes.

“Here you are!” I say, brushing lingering leaves off my arm as I aim the biggest smile I can manage at Vlad’s chest.

“I’ve been looking al over! I thought you said to meet in the parking lot. Thank God I heard your voice.”

Vlad lets go of Lindsay, more from surprise than fear. Jogging over, I loop my arm through her elbow. Her arm tightens around mine like a boa constrictor; the rest of her is stil catatonic.

“We’d better get. But y’al have a nice night,” I say. Apparently, fear turns me Texan. A startling personality insight that I’l jot down later if I’m not dead in a ditch. I try to pivot us both around, but Lindsay’s not offering much in the way of forward motion. It’s a slow, bumbling turn. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Vlad nod over our heads. We turn right into the twin chests of Devon and Ashley. I try to move us to the side, but Lindsay’s legs are tangled up with mine, causing me to step on one of their toes. I make the mistake of looking up at their faces. They don’t smirk, they don’t glower, and in the second before I veer my gaze away, their eyes are as dead as a flat-lining heart patient. They just … exist, like two towering chess pieces. The left one is stil clutching the dead rabbit. It hangs there limply, like a warning.

The good news is that Lindsay is starting to show signs of life. Her eyes are glassy but there, and I can feel her fingers tapping my upper arm. She stumbles a bit to the side, of her own accord, and I do everything I can to encourage the momentum in that direction. At least until the two brick wal s move to block our way.

Vlad’s thighs slink into view. He is wearing black boots with tips that curl up at the ends like two little devil horns. I concentrate on the embroidered patterns on their toes, wil ing my head to stay down, wil ing my heart to stay in my chest.

“This night is shaping up to be better than I could have ever imagined,” he says. “Two for one! Bingo!”

“Vlad, this is destructive behavior,” Marisabel says sternly before her voice starts to wobble. “Let’s just go home. Please, let’s just go home.”

“Be quiet!” Vlad roars. When Marisabel continues to plead for them to leave, he stalks toward her and begins to yel . “Always tel ing me not to kil when you should keep your mouth shut!” he roars. “If I have to hear your voice for one more second I am going to put a stake through your heart. And then you’l be dust.
Dust
.”

While he’s distracted, I grab the smal dome of Lindsay’s shoulder and shake it. “Lindsay, I think we should make a break for it.”

She swings her head toward me, and even though her eyes are worried, her face is stil slack. “Legs. Problem,”

she says simply, just as I realize that the clearing has gone deathly silent.

A rough hand scrapes at my chin. Vlad yanks my face up to meet his gaze, his gray eyes dancing with the thril of what he’s about to do. He lowers his mouth to my ear. It smel s sweet, but where I expect to feel the ghosting of breath on my cheek, there is none. I clutch Lindsay tighter.

“You are probably wondering what is happening, and why it is happening to you,” Vlad says smoothly. “I suppose I can invite you into our little world now, Sophie, considering you’re about to exit yours.”

“You’re vampires,” I manage to choke out. I swear to God, I wil not leave this world to a lecture by Vlad. For a moment he looks nonplussed. “That saves time, I suppose,” he says, right before his fingers clamp down on my chin like tiny vises, imprisoning my mouth and strangling my scream before it even starts. He begins to maneuver us backward, pushing forward until we hit the scratchy trunk of a tree. I launch an awkward kick at his legs. The next thing I know his foot is grinding down on my toes, shooting a bolt of searing pain zipping up to my knee. One of my arms is trapped in Lindsay’s; he pins the other to my side. I can barely see the trees anymore around his amused face. There is no hope of escape. My breathing turns ragged, a change that makes Vlad’s face light up with amusement. He gives a sympathetic
tsk
.

“It wil not last for long,” he assures me, his voice light and informative as though this is a theme park. “After a few minutes your vision wil start to fade and then you wil just be

… no more.” He presses his face forward until al I can see are his blond brows and dark eyes. “Look into them. It wil be better for you in the end.”

I know that I need to turn away, but I can’t. It’s easier to do what he says, to give in. I look into his eyes, studying the darker rings of gray as I wait to be hypnotized, to see flashing lights or feel a ripping sensation tear through my head. I feel a light breeze on my skin … I feel my toes throbbing from where Vlad’s foot stil presses down … I feel a cramp in my arm where Lindsay’s weight sits heavy and immobile … but nothing else.

It takes me a few moments to realize that Vlad is no longer pinning me to tree. Instead he is looking at me with an incredulous expression that lasts three seconds before his face transforms into a snarl and he lunges for my neck. Squeezing my eyes shut, I scream into Vlad’s hand. There are two slivers of glass in my neck, buried so deep that there is no hope of ever digging them out.

A shout cuts through the pain, and then I’m fal ing onto the ground and pul ing Lindsay along with me. We col apse into a pile. Lindsay’s knee jabs into the curve of my hip, and I’m staring up at the sky, ful of airplane trails and the shadowy suggestion of stars just starting to pop out. I find my hand in our tangle of limbs and bring it to my neck. Hot, sticky liquid covers my fingers.

From my left come the sounds of a fight. I rol my head to the side to see if I’m in danger of being trampled, but it causes my head to spin, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut until it stops. When I open them again I see Vlad, on his back, fangs bared. And James—wonderful, wonderful James—is on top of him, fangs also bared.

Hal ucinating, I’m hal ucinating. I blink my eyes three or four times to get the crazy out of them. Before I can look again, I feel Lindsay sit up to my right, and then her hands beneath my back, lifting me up. My neck feels too weak to support my head, and it thuds onto her shoulder.
Bobble-
head Sophie,
I think, and giggle. Her palm smacks my cheek several times before she succeeds in pushing my head back up.

“Stop giggling like an idiot and look,” she whispers, amazement coloring her voice as she grabs my chin and pivots my head toward what’s happening on my other side. Amazement with a heaping side dish of terror.

James and Vlad are now on their feet, glaring at each other.

“Leave them alone, Vlad.”

“I fear it’s too late for that,” Vlad says cheerful y. “They know.”

“Think. This wil jeopardize your search. Two missing girls wil draw a lot of attention. People wil be scared, panicked.”

“I do not care about people,” Vlad scoffs.

“You should. They wil be looking for you while you’re looking for her. And then you wil never find her. And then there wil be no Danae.”

This gives Vlad pause. Folding his arms across his chest, he tilts his head to the side and wipes at the corners of his mouth in a way that I might have cal ed fastidious if he hadn’t just been chewing on my neck.

“Perhaps you are right,” he says cautiously, studying his fingers, which glisten with blood in the low evening light. He waves a hand toward where Lindsay and I huddle on the ground. “But how do you propose I clean up this …

misunderstanding? I suppose I can wipe their minds, but that wil make me even more drained, which is the reason I was going to risk eating them in the first place!” he finishes, shaking his head as if to say, “What conundrums I get myself into!”

“I’l do it,” James says quickly. “I’l take care of it.”

Vlad’s eyebrows arch in surprise. “Real y? You had given me the impression that you felt yourself above this … How did you say it? Ah yes, ‘vampire stuff.’”

Even though I’ve seen the fangs, I stil gasp. Or more appropriately, I suck in a large amount of air that leaves me coughing and sputtering. When I raise my eyes, James is looking at me with an emotion I can’t place.

He turns back to Vlad. “I said I’l take care of it.”

For a second Vlad seems appeased, like we’re a set of problems he’s just been told won’t be on the pop quiz. But then his eyes narrow. “You like that one.”

“Which one?”

“Sophie. The black-haired one.”

James’s expression is unreadable. “Are you kidding?

She’s a pain in the neck. I just want to make sure nothing gets in the way of you finding your girl,” he says. “Then I stay here, and you go, just like we said.”

“We also said that you would help search if I al owed you to wander off and live on your own,” Vlad says, “and yet I believe this is the first day you’ve appeared.”

“I’m here now,” he insists. “Let me prove that I want to help.”

Vlad purses his lips, debating the merits of letting us go.

“Very wel , then,” he says final y. “You may have another chance to prove yourself. But when I reintroduce myself, I expect them not to know who I am.”

“Understood,” James says, walking over to yank us onto our feet. We might as wel be made out of Styrofoam for the amount of effort it costs him. He pushes us in front of him and tel s us to march forward.

It takes forever for us to reach my Jeep, or at least it feels like it does. No one speaks for several seconds until Lindsay says, weakly, that she doesn’t think she should drive. The whole time we’ve been standing here, she hasn’t moved her eyes from James.

James turns to me. “Can you drive?” he asks, eyeing my neck, which is stil bleeding. Is it my imagination or do I see a flicker of interest in his gaze? With every second I don’t respond, James’s face grows more concerned. “Sophie—”

“I can drive,” I say.

He gives a sharp nod. “Then take Lindsay and go home, lock your doors, and stay inside. I’m going to stay here until Vlad leaves.”

“But—”

“Please. He doesn’t always keep his word. I want to tel him that I’ve already done it, so he doesn’t think about it tonight.”

I know I’ve been dismissed, but there’s something that I need to say. “Thank you.”

For a second I think he looks hopeful, like he’s relieved that things haven’t changed that much, before his expression becomes inscrutable once again. “We’l talk later,” he says before turning to face the wal of trees.