Bleeding Hearts
Page 5
She snorted so loudly I was surprised there wasn’t a small tornado. “Lucy, I’ve only known you for a few weeks, but careful is one thing you’re not.”
“Yeah, yeah. You all need to get a new speech.” The engine sputtered a little but eventually turned over. Frankly, it was a miracle every time it started. I should so use that on my dad to convince him to buy me a new car. You know, for safety’s sake.
I waved at Hunter and sped off down the driveway, stopping to punch in my number code so the security gate lifted. Despite the events of the last few weeks, the drive home was uneventful. I passed the usual farms and pumpkin patches and apple orchards. The mountains loomed impressively, the snowcaps looking almost purple at this time of night. Speaking of which, twilight was hitting fast and hard tonight. I dialed home on my cell phone. Christabel answered.
“I’m just down the street,” I told her. “Tell my parents not to freak out.”
“They just called,” she said. “They’re in town. Your mom’s making your dad go to some Buddhist relaxation meditation thing.”
“Did you tell them I was home?” I turned onto our street.
“I told them I saw your headlights in the driveway.”
“Thanks, Christa. Be there in five.” I switched off and counted to three out loud. “One … two … three.” The phone rang, right on cue. I answered it, rolling my eyes. “I’m in the driveway, Mom,” I said, pulling up to the garage. “Tell Dad to stop hyperventilating.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I learned how to punch someone’s jugular.”
“I’m so proud.” Her tone was as dry as stale crackers. “Look after your cousin.”
“Mom, she’s two years older than I am. She can take care of herself.”
“She’s going through a hard time, Lucky.” Even the phone crackled disapprovingly at her use of that hated nickname.
“I know,” I said quickly. “I only meant that I’m sure she’s fine.”
“Okay. We won’t be home too late. Don’t eat ice cream for dinner.”
“I won’t,” I promised. I meant it, too, but only because Mom bought us tofu ice cream. Yuck. Even more gross than drinking blood, if you asked me.
The porch light was on and I could see Christabel behind the living room curtain, curled up on the couch with a book. The girl read more than anyone I’d ever met. Even when we were little, she preferred the library to the beach. The slamming of the car door echoed, disturbing old man Jeffries’s incontinent poodle across the road. She barked at me through the window. Gandhi barked back once from inside our house; the poodle whined and fell silent.
I glanced around before heading toward the house. I hated that all of a sudden the night felt dangerous, suspicious. I used to love sitting out in the garden and watching the stars, but now I had to worry about being mauled to death by Hel-Blar. A shudder in one of the bushes made me pause. My heart hammered loudly, slowly. I sniffed but couldn’t smell mushrooms or mold. Still, maybe the Hel-Blar had learned to use cologne. I couldn’t smell that either, though. I reached for the vial of Hypnos Solange’s uncle Geoffrey had given me. It wasn’t inside my sleeve. It was in my bag. I’d forgotten to reattach it after my class with Hunter. Stupid.
I reached for another weapon. At least my purse was handy and well stocked.
I nearly staked a stray cat.
He hissed at me, back arching, fur like iron spikes. I stumbled back, swearing.
“Sorry!” I told him. “Life is probably hard enough, living out of garbage cans and hiding from dogs, without some girl waving a pointy stick at you. I promise I’ll leave you some milk, okay?” He hissed again, then sat back and licked his butt. Charming. “I don’t know if that means I’m forgiven, but could you do that somewhere else?”
I turned away, my palms damp from the adrenaline surge. All this fear was contagious and I didn’t like it one bit. I wiped my hands on my leggings.
“Were you just apologizing to a cat?”
I didn’t have time to recognize the voice. I only heard noise where there shouldn’t have been any. More adrenaline sparked through me and I felt like my insides had just been electrocuted. I leaped off the porch, somersaulted in the grass, and jumped to my feet, slightly dizzy.
Right in front of my smirking boyfriend.
I didn’t lower my stake. Instead I waved it menacingly. “You scared the crap out of me, Nicholas.”
“And that was your gut reaction?” he teased, arching an eyebrow. “Gymnastics?”
“Shut up,” I grumbled. He just grinned. He was wearing dark jeans and a black shirt with a black tie. He looked good, as always. The adrenaline turned into a much more interesting chemical reaction. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He closed the distance between us, avoiding the pointy end of the stake still clutched in my hand. “Are your parents home?”
“No.”
His grin turned seriously delicious. “Good.”
And then he leaned in to kiss me. I met him halfway, with a grin of my own. His lips were gentle, soft. His arms slid around me, one hand digging into my hair, the other resting on my hip. I leaned in closer, nibbling at his lower lip. He sucked in a breath that made me feel wild and beautiful even though I was still kind of flushed and sweaty from the gym. Vampires didn’t need to breathe; they just did it out of habit, especially young ones like Nicholas. Whenever he made that strangled sound, I knew I was doing something right.
“Yeah, yeah. You all need to get a new speech.” The engine sputtered a little but eventually turned over. Frankly, it was a miracle every time it started. I should so use that on my dad to convince him to buy me a new car. You know, for safety’s sake.
I waved at Hunter and sped off down the driveway, stopping to punch in my number code so the security gate lifted. Despite the events of the last few weeks, the drive home was uneventful. I passed the usual farms and pumpkin patches and apple orchards. The mountains loomed impressively, the snowcaps looking almost purple at this time of night. Speaking of which, twilight was hitting fast and hard tonight. I dialed home on my cell phone. Christabel answered.
“I’m just down the street,” I told her. “Tell my parents not to freak out.”
“They just called,” she said. “They’re in town. Your mom’s making your dad go to some Buddhist relaxation meditation thing.”
“Did you tell them I was home?” I turned onto our street.
“I told them I saw your headlights in the driveway.”
“Thanks, Christa. Be there in five.” I switched off and counted to three out loud. “One … two … three.” The phone rang, right on cue. I answered it, rolling my eyes. “I’m in the driveway, Mom,” I said, pulling up to the garage. “Tell Dad to stop hyperventilating.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I learned how to punch someone’s jugular.”
“I’m so proud.” Her tone was as dry as stale crackers. “Look after your cousin.”
“Mom, she’s two years older than I am. She can take care of herself.”
“She’s going through a hard time, Lucky.” Even the phone crackled disapprovingly at her use of that hated nickname.
“I know,” I said quickly. “I only meant that I’m sure she’s fine.”
“Okay. We won’t be home too late. Don’t eat ice cream for dinner.”
“I won’t,” I promised. I meant it, too, but only because Mom bought us tofu ice cream. Yuck. Even more gross than drinking blood, if you asked me.
The porch light was on and I could see Christabel behind the living room curtain, curled up on the couch with a book. The girl read more than anyone I’d ever met. Even when we were little, she preferred the library to the beach. The slamming of the car door echoed, disturbing old man Jeffries’s incontinent poodle across the road. She barked at me through the window. Gandhi barked back once from inside our house; the poodle whined and fell silent.
I glanced around before heading toward the house. I hated that all of a sudden the night felt dangerous, suspicious. I used to love sitting out in the garden and watching the stars, but now I had to worry about being mauled to death by Hel-Blar. A shudder in one of the bushes made me pause. My heart hammered loudly, slowly. I sniffed but couldn’t smell mushrooms or mold. Still, maybe the Hel-Blar had learned to use cologne. I couldn’t smell that either, though. I reached for the vial of Hypnos Solange’s uncle Geoffrey had given me. It wasn’t inside my sleeve. It was in my bag. I’d forgotten to reattach it after my class with Hunter. Stupid.
I reached for another weapon. At least my purse was handy and well stocked.
I nearly staked a stray cat.
He hissed at me, back arching, fur like iron spikes. I stumbled back, swearing.
“Sorry!” I told him. “Life is probably hard enough, living out of garbage cans and hiding from dogs, without some girl waving a pointy stick at you. I promise I’ll leave you some milk, okay?” He hissed again, then sat back and licked his butt. Charming. “I don’t know if that means I’m forgiven, but could you do that somewhere else?”
I turned away, my palms damp from the adrenaline surge. All this fear was contagious and I didn’t like it one bit. I wiped my hands on my leggings.
“Were you just apologizing to a cat?”
I didn’t have time to recognize the voice. I only heard noise where there shouldn’t have been any. More adrenaline sparked through me and I felt like my insides had just been electrocuted. I leaped off the porch, somersaulted in the grass, and jumped to my feet, slightly dizzy.
Right in front of my smirking boyfriend.
I didn’t lower my stake. Instead I waved it menacingly. “You scared the crap out of me, Nicholas.”
“And that was your gut reaction?” he teased, arching an eyebrow. “Gymnastics?”
“Shut up,” I grumbled. He just grinned. He was wearing dark jeans and a black shirt with a black tie. He looked good, as always. The adrenaline turned into a much more interesting chemical reaction. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He closed the distance between us, avoiding the pointy end of the stake still clutched in my hand. “Are your parents home?”
“No.”
His grin turned seriously delicious. “Good.”
And then he leaned in to kiss me. I met him halfway, with a grin of my own. His lips were gentle, soft. His arms slid around me, one hand digging into my hair, the other resting on my hip. I leaned in closer, nibbling at his lower lip. He sucked in a breath that made me feel wild and beautiful even though I was still kind of flushed and sweaty from the gym. Vampires didn’t need to breathe; they just did it out of habit, especially young ones like Nicholas. Whenever he made that strangled sound, I knew I was doing something right.
