Vampire Crush
Page 29
We hit the line of trees, plunging us into even deeper shadow. Devon and Ashley cut through the brush as though it is nothing, but branches whip across my face. Every so often my feet scrape hard against the ground, jarring my ankles and making me feel so shaken and battered that I don't register that we've reached the clearing until they throw me to the ground. I manage to catch myself two seconds before my nose hits the sopping layer of rotting leaves, but my hands sink beneath me. I tug them out of the mud and then scramble to my feet, whirling around just in time to see Devon and Ashley's eyes focus on a spot behind me.
"I am so pleased that you could join us, Sophochka," Vlad says. He is perched on the rotting picnic table, his black shirt molded to his chest. As I watch, he crosses his legs and brings his hands to rest on the bump of his knees.
"Where is Caroline?" I rasp, searching the clearing frantically. Nothing. I stand up and turn in a circle, peering through the gaps in the trees. The rain has turned everything misty, creating a wall of fog that prevents me from seeing beyond this tiny bubble of space. Vlad waits for me to stop twirling before casually leaning to the side to reveal Caroline's slumped figure tied to a tree with a bright pink neon cord. Her head hangs forward, her curly blond hair veiling her face.
"Is she . . . ," I start, the dawning horror feeling like ants crawling up my skin.
"Oh, she is not dead. I just did not want to listen to her for one more second - she knows quite a few curse words. What is a 'lametard'?"
"Let her go," I say. "She has nothing to do with this."
"She has everything to do with this," he snaps. "If you would have but given me a second chance to court you, I would not have needed to resort to such drastic measures. But you have made it clear that you have no intention of doing this the civil way, and I do not have time to overcome your stubbornness or endure your public insults. I have tired of this place," he says, springing off the picnic table with an agile hop. "Here is what I offer. You agree to become a vampire and marry me now, and I release her. She might wonder why she has a sore neck for a few days, but otherwise, she will remember nothing."
My eyes fly to Caroline. "You didn't . . . ," I start, but I see how his gray eyes are sparkling; I see how there is color in his cheeks.
"Oh, I did not make her a vampire. Just a beverage. After all, it has been such a very long time since I indulged in fresh human blood," he says. Reaching out, he runs one cold finger down my cheek and then traces the crescent of skin exposed above the collar of my T-shirt. "Usually I have difficulty pulling back. But then I remembered that I needed her to get to you."
I slap his hand away without thinking. How about we not antagonize the crazy vampire who holds your sister hostage, okay, Sophie? Swallowing, I try to keep my voice calm. "I thought that you needed witnesses."
"We have them," he insists.
"Who? Squirrels?"
"No, of course not," Vlad says. "Sometimes your humor is inappropriate. I was speaking of Devon and Ashley."
"They hardly talk!"
"I admit that they are not ideal, but you have left me with little option. Still, just to allay your worries . . ." Walking over, he pats one of them on the cheek. "Come, Ashley, say hello to Sophochka."
Ashley opens his mouth and emits a dusty grunt.
"A word," Vlad insists, but I don't hear whether or not Ashley speaks because Caroline is stirring. I need to distract him.
"Okay," I say, and then repeat it loudly to cover up her groan.
Vlad turns to face me. "'Okay' what?"
"Tell me more about what will happen when we are Danae," I say, moving to the side so that his back is completely toward Caroline, who is now blinking as though trying to focus.
He smiles. "I suspected that you were not nearly as indifferent as you claimed. I am sure that they will reward me handsomely. A real house, for a start - they are said to have thousands across the world. And then perhaps a position of some import."
Caroline is now fully awake and staring at us with wide, horrified eyes. Holding her gaze, I telepath a plea for her to stay still. It fails. She begins to wiggle, and while she may be tied to the tree with a jump rope, Vlad did not count on cheerleader flexibility. However, there is no such thing as cheerleader stealth. In order to mask the rasping sound of her movements, I step closer to Vlad, checking to see if Devon and Ashley have noticed her. Nope. Their expressions are still Grade-A vacant. Still . . .
"Vlad," I say sweetly. "I do not like them watching us. It's creepy."
He looks over me to bark at the twins. "Turn away," he orders and they dutifully turn to face the trees. When he turns back to face me with a smug smile that says, "Look what I can do," I ask him what kind of position he could have.
"I do not know," he says. "I have always wanted to be a judge. High Examiner Vlad Mervaux. Yes, that has a nice ring to it."
"You would make a wonderful judge," I lie, noticing that Caroline is almost free. His face moves even closer, so close that I can see the darker ring of gray in his eyes.
Picking up my hand, he runs the pad of his thumb over my knuckles. "You know, you are not entirely without hope. We will work on the clothing."
Be still my beating heart. Now that Vlad is so close, I can no longer see Caroline. I hope that when she is free, she runs. Just runs. Then when I am sure she is safe, I will make my move with the spoon.
All this talk of social-climbing has made Vlad amorous. He moves forward, trying to press up against me, and I instinctively back up until I hit the hard trunk of a tree. His features have relaxed, and now he sizes me up with a gaze that lingers like a lazy drawl. The sound of the rain dribbling its way down through the canopy of leaves drowns out almost everything else. So many things are rustling that it's difficult to figure out if one of them is an escape rustle. I brace myself against the tree, digging my fingernails into the bark as I lift my heels to sneak a surreptitious look behind him.
But I am not stealthy enough. His eyebrows quirk downward, signaling suspicion, and his head begins to turn. I have to stop him. But how?
Darting forward, I grab his cheeks and pull him toward me. Before I can give him the kind of sexy, diverting, cheek kiss that will go down in the annals of seductress history, he turns his head, forcing his mouth against mine. His lips are cool, wet, and slightly . . . tangy. Oh. Oh. Gross. My fingers clutch his shirt, not because I'm in danger of melting into a puddle of goo, but because it helps keep me from slapping him away when his lips begin to move sluggishly. Caroline better be running like the wind right now, the wind.
Suddenly our teeth bump and scrape. He bites my lip, sharp as a bee sting, and I gasp. Rearing back, I dart to the side without thinking - not being familiar with the ins and outs of demonic make-out sessions, I am determined to evade whatever "move" this heralds. I turn, ready to defend myself or make excuses. For a few seconds my brain refuses to process the evidence in front of me. When it finally sinks in, I only wish that it were a hallucination.
Caroline has wrapped herself around his back, her tan legs clamping around his waist as she hits him over the head with a branch. Her hair sticks to her shoulders and back in long, wet strands, and I can see a raw, bloody gash on the left side of her neck. The rain has exposed patches of skin beneath her white T-shirt.
"Stay away from my sister," she shouts after a series of zinging swaps to his neck. "And never bite me again. Gross."
Vlad could toss her off him with very little effort - of that I'm sure - but right now he seems too stunned. The crook of Caroline's elbow is a surprisingly effective blindfold. He stumbles forward with his arms extended, Lurch-like, before hitting a tree. Growling, he reaches behind him, grabbing Caroline by the neck so hard that she actually squeaks.
"Hey! Let go of me. And cut your nails every once in a while, freak. You really are a - ," she begins, but then starts to choke. Vlad is squeezing.
Stealth and seduction have failed. Time to move on to plan B: a full-frontal, last-ditch, completely insane attack. As Vlad holds Caroline up like a chastised kitten, I grab the handle of the spoon and pull it out. He is not looking at me, just smiling as she squirms. With painful slowness, he begins to turn in a circle, showing off his catch. A crack of thunder splits the sky overhead as I rush forward, holding the spoon aloft with both hands and yelling nonsensical obscenities at a Braveheart decibel.
His eyes widen when he sees me pounding toward him, and he drops Caroline, who hits the ground rolling. I touch his arm for one whole second before he captures my wrists and rips the spoon from my grasp. I hear a snap and the vibrating zing of something lodging itself in a far tree.
Grabbing my neck with one hand, he pins me to the ground, my head twisted to the side at an odd and painful angle. I watch as his other hand darts out and captures Caroline's ankle. He drags her across the wet ground, turning her so he is holding us side by side so we are facing each other. For a few seconds she coughs and splutters, her eyes closed. When she opens them, they are a bright, feverish blue.
Vlad pinches our chins and jerks them upward so we are forced to stare into his enraged face. My legs are trapped beneath his body, and my hip begins to throb. When I struggle, he presses down until I cry out in pain.
"You thought that you could trick me?" he asks.
Caroline starts to cry. Our hands are trapped between our bodies. I wiggle a pinkie finger, trying to find hers to tell her that I am here, that I understand. That I know what I have to do.
"Let her go and I will become a vampire," I say. At least then I will be an even match for him.
"And?" he says.
"And I will marry you. You will be a Mer - " I pause as something strikes me. "Wait a second, if you turn me into a vampire won't I be an Unnamed? So then when we marry you will just be Unnaming yourself again," I say, and then I realize that all I'm really doing is undermining the only reason he has not to kill us.
The eagerness in his eyes dims a little, and I start to worry. It's occurred to him, too. "You are human but you are already Mervaux," he says tightly. "The Danae will understand that you are an exception to the rule. A wormhole of sorts."
Caroline suddenly stops sobbing. "It's a loophole, idiot," she sniffles. I have never been more proud of her in my life.
"Shut up!" Vlad hisses. "If you say one more word then I will - "
"Do we have a deal?" I ask to draw his attention back to me.
His eyes narrow, and I feel a surge of hope - and a surge of fear. Oh God, I am going to have to go through with this. I shut my eyes, ignoring the rain on my face as I try to think of the best strategy. Just because I give in now, it does not mean that I have to give in forever. I will still be me, just fangy. I can still fight him. I can still stop him. And if not, I will stake myself.
When I open my eyes, Vlad is tilting his head to the side as if weighing his options. "Fine," he says and then releases our necks. "But if you do not keep your word, I will find her and kill her. And everyone else that you love."
We struggle to our feet, Vlad watching me warily all the while, as if I might bolt. Even if I was free to, I don't think that I could. My legs are shaking so violently that I nearly collapse. Caroline is now standing with one hand to her wounded neck. Something is sticking out from beneath her foot, angled up from the pressure. It is half of the broken wooden spoon.
Caroline and I have never seen eye-to-eye on anything, have never been able to read each other's minds, but now I imagine little brain waves wiggling their way from my mind to hers, telling her to find a way to give me the piece of wood beneath her foot.
"You need to go," I tell her. "But give me a hug first."
Beside me, Vlad rolls his eyes and then sets to studying his fingernails. "Make it quick. I am eager to be done with this," he says as Caroline starts to step forward. I lift my fingers to tell her to stop and then make a point of flicking my gaze down. She stops, her mouth forming a little "O." Before her face can give anything away, I wrap my arms around her shoulders. Suddenly she lets out a wail and drags us to the ground.
"Oh, stop. You are always so overdramatic," Vlad says as Caroline fakes heaving sobs, all the while wiggling the spoon out from beneath her foot. She yells at him to shut up, even while she's tucking it in my waistband. The point where it snapped is sharp, shardlike. After she is sure that it is concealed by my shirt, she stands up and backs away.
"I'm sorry for not believing you," she says and starts to cry anew. "I'll come back."
"Don't. Please."
"But what will I say?"
"You'll think of something." I manage to offer her a grim smile. "You're good at that. It's okay, Caroline," I say. "I swear. Go."
She remains still for one final second and then takes one step backward, and then another, and another. I watch her vanish into the wall of woods, listening to her footsteps dwindle as she gets farther and farther away. The tip of my makeshift stake digs into my side, but I don't mind the pain. The pain is hope.
"Now," Vlad says. "Where were we?"
Chapter Nineteen
He advances toward me, and I instinctively take a step back. It's difficult not to lunge at him again with the stake, but I know that a frontal attack is doomed to repeat failure. My only chance of success is if I wait until he is distracted.
"Once it is done, how will we contact the Danae?"
Vlad sneers. "For all of their 'secrecy,' it is not difficult to figure out who among the families is a part. I will contact them with word that I have information on Neville and then use that to explain - " He stops. "You do not care. I will not let you stall any longer."
"I am so pleased that you could join us, Sophochka," Vlad says. He is perched on the rotting picnic table, his black shirt molded to his chest. As I watch, he crosses his legs and brings his hands to rest on the bump of his knees.
"Where is Caroline?" I rasp, searching the clearing frantically. Nothing. I stand up and turn in a circle, peering through the gaps in the trees. The rain has turned everything misty, creating a wall of fog that prevents me from seeing beyond this tiny bubble of space. Vlad waits for me to stop twirling before casually leaning to the side to reveal Caroline's slumped figure tied to a tree with a bright pink neon cord. Her head hangs forward, her curly blond hair veiling her face.
"Is she . . . ," I start, the dawning horror feeling like ants crawling up my skin.
"Oh, she is not dead. I just did not want to listen to her for one more second - she knows quite a few curse words. What is a 'lametard'?"
"Let her go," I say. "She has nothing to do with this."
"She has everything to do with this," he snaps. "If you would have but given me a second chance to court you, I would not have needed to resort to such drastic measures. But you have made it clear that you have no intention of doing this the civil way, and I do not have time to overcome your stubbornness or endure your public insults. I have tired of this place," he says, springing off the picnic table with an agile hop. "Here is what I offer. You agree to become a vampire and marry me now, and I release her. She might wonder why she has a sore neck for a few days, but otherwise, she will remember nothing."
My eyes fly to Caroline. "You didn't . . . ," I start, but I see how his gray eyes are sparkling; I see how there is color in his cheeks.
"Oh, I did not make her a vampire. Just a beverage. After all, it has been such a very long time since I indulged in fresh human blood," he says. Reaching out, he runs one cold finger down my cheek and then traces the crescent of skin exposed above the collar of my T-shirt. "Usually I have difficulty pulling back. But then I remembered that I needed her to get to you."
I slap his hand away without thinking. How about we not antagonize the crazy vampire who holds your sister hostage, okay, Sophie? Swallowing, I try to keep my voice calm. "I thought that you needed witnesses."
"We have them," he insists.
"Who? Squirrels?"
"No, of course not," Vlad says. "Sometimes your humor is inappropriate. I was speaking of Devon and Ashley."
"They hardly talk!"
"I admit that they are not ideal, but you have left me with little option. Still, just to allay your worries . . ." Walking over, he pats one of them on the cheek. "Come, Ashley, say hello to Sophochka."
Ashley opens his mouth and emits a dusty grunt.
"A word," Vlad insists, but I don't hear whether or not Ashley speaks because Caroline is stirring. I need to distract him.
"Okay," I say, and then repeat it loudly to cover up her groan.
Vlad turns to face me. "'Okay' what?"
"Tell me more about what will happen when we are Danae," I say, moving to the side so that his back is completely toward Caroline, who is now blinking as though trying to focus.
He smiles. "I suspected that you were not nearly as indifferent as you claimed. I am sure that they will reward me handsomely. A real house, for a start - they are said to have thousands across the world. And then perhaps a position of some import."
Caroline is now fully awake and staring at us with wide, horrified eyes. Holding her gaze, I telepath a plea for her to stay still. It fails. She begins to wiggle, and while she may be tied to the tree with a jump rope, Vlad did not count on cheerleader flexibility. However, there is no such thing as cheerleader stealth. In order to mask the rasping sound of her movements, I step closer to Vlad, checking to see if Devon and Ashley have noticed her. Nope. Their expressions are still Grade-A vacant. Still . . .
"Vlad," I say sweetly. "I do not like them watching us. It's creepy."
He looks over me to bark at the twins. "Turn away," he orders and they dutifully turn to face the trees. When he turns back to face me with a smug smile that says, "Look what I can do," I ask him what kind of position he could have.
"I do not know," he says. "I have always wanted to be a judge. High Examiner Vlad Mervaux. Yes, that has a nice ring to it."
"You would make a wonderful judge," I lie, noticing that Caroline is almost free. His face moves even closer, so close that I can see the darker ring of gray in his eyes.
Picking up my hand, he runs the pad of his thumb over my knuckles. "You know, you are not entirely without hope. We will work on the clothing."
Be still my beating heart. Now that Vlad is so close, I can no longer see Caroline. I hope that when she is free, she runs. Just runs. Then when I am sure she is safe, I will make my move with the spoon.
All this talk of social-climbing has made Vlad amorous. He moves forward, trying to press up against me, and I instinctively back up until I hit the hard trunk of a tree. His features have relaxed, and now he sizes me up with a gaze that lingers like a lazy drawl. The sound of the rain dribbling its way down through the canopy of leaves drowns out almost everything else. So many things are rustling that it's difficult to figure out if one of them is an escape rustle. I brace myself against the tree, digging my fingernails into the bark as I lift my heels to sneak a surreptitious look behind him.
But I am not stealthy enough. His eyebrows quirk downward, signaling suspicion, and his head begins to turn. I have to stop him. But how?
Darting forward, I grab his cheeks and pull him toward me. Before I can give him the kind of sexy, diverting, cheek kiss that will go down in the annals of seductress history, he turns his head, forcing his mouth against mine. His lips are cool, wet, and slightly . . . tangy. Oh. Oh. Gross. My fingers clutch his shirt, not because I'm in danger of melting into a puddle of goo, but because it helps keep me from slapping him away when his lips begin to move sluggishly. Caroline better be running like the wind right now, the wind.
Suddenly our teeth bump and scrape. He bites my lip, sharp as a bee sting, and I gasp. Rearing back, I dart to the side without thinking - not being familiar with the ins and outs of demonic make-out sessions, I am determined to evade whatever "move" this heralds. I turn, ready to defend myself or make excuses. For a few seconds my brain refuses to process the evidence in front of me. When it finally sinks in, I only wish that it were a hallucination.
Caroline has wrapped herself around his back, her tan legs clamping around his waist as she hits him over the head with a branch. Her hair sticks to her shoulders and back in long, wet strands, and I can see a raw, bloody gash on the left side of her neck. The rain has exposed patches of skin beneath her white T-shirt.
"Stay away from my sister," she shouts after a series of zinging swaps to his neck. "And never bite me again. Gross."
Vlad could toss her off him with very little effort - of that I'm sure - but right now he seems too stunned. The crook of Caroline's elbow is a surprisingly effective blindfold. He stumbles forward with his arms extended, Lurch-like, before hitting a tree. Growling, he reaches behind him, grabbing Caroline by the neck so hard that she actually squeaks.
"Hey! Let go of me. And cut your nails every once in a while, freak. You really are a - ," she begins, but then starts to choke. Vlad is squeezing.
Stealth and seduction have failed. Time to move on to plan B: a full-frontal, last-ditch, completely insane attack. As Vlad holds Caroline up like a chastised kitten, I grab the handle of the spoon and pull it out. He is not looking at me, just smiling as she squirms. With painful slowness, he begins to turn in a circle, showing off his catch. A crack of thunder splits the sky overhead as I rush forward, holding the spoon aloft with both hands and yelling nonsensical obscenities at a Braveheart decibel.
His eyes widen when he sees me pounding toward him, and he drops Caroline, who hits the ground rolling. I touch his arm for one whole second before he captures my wrists and rips the spoon from my grasp. I hear a snap and the vibrating zing of something lodging itself in a far tree.
Grabbing my neck with one hand, he pins me to the ground, my head twisted to the side at an odd and painful angle. I watch as his other hand darts out and captures Caroline's ankle. He drags her across the wet ground, turning her so he is holding us side by side so we are facing each other. For a few seconds she coughs and splutters, her eyes closed. When she opens them, they are a bright, feverish blue.
Vlad pinches our chins and jerks them upward so we are forced to stare into his enraged face. My legs are trapped beneath his body, and my hip begins to throb. When I struggle, he presses down until I cry out in pain.
"You thought that you could trick me?" he asks.
Caroline starts to cry. Our hands are trapped between our bodies. I wiggle a pinkie finger, trying to find hers to tell her that I am here, that I understand. That I know what I have to do.
"Let her go and I will become a vampire," I say. At least then I will be an even match for him.
"And?" he says.
"And I will marry you. You will be a Mer - " I pause as something strikes me. "Wait a second, if you turn me into a vampire won't I be an Unnamed? So then when we marry you will just be Unnaming yourself again," I say, and then I realize that all I'm really doing is undermining the only reason he has not to kill us.
The eagerness in his eyes dims a little, and I start to worry. It's occurred to him, too. "You are human but you are already Mervaux," he says tightly. "The Danae will understand that you are an exception to the rule. A wormhole of sorts."
Caroline suddenly stops sobbing. "It's a loophole, idiot," she sniffles. I have never been more proud of her in my life.
"Shut up!" Vlad hisses. "If you say one more word then I will - "
"Do we have a deal?" I ask to draw his attention back to me.
His eyes narrow, and I feel a surge of hope - and a surge of fear. Oh God, I am going to have to go through with this. I shut my eyes, ignoring the rain on my face as I try to think of the best strategy. Just because I give in now, it does not mean that I have to give in forever. I will still be me, just fangy. I can still fight him. I can still stop him. And if not, I will stake myself.
When I open my eyes, Vlad is tilting his head to the side as if weighing his options. "Fine," he says and then releases our necks. "But if you do not keep your word, I will find her and kill her. And everyone else that you love."
We struggle to our feet, Vlad watching me warily all the while, as if I might bolt. Even if I was free to, I don't think that I could. My legs are shaking so violently that I nearly collapse. Caroline is now standing with one hand to her wounded neck. Something is sticking out from beneath her foot, angled up from the pressure. It is half of the broken wooden spoon.
Caroline and I have never seen eye-to-eye on anything, have never been able to read each other's minds, but now I imagine little brain waves wiggling their way from my mind to hers, telling her to find a way to give me the piece of wood beneath her foot.
"You need to go," I tell her. "But give me a hug first."
Beside me, Vlad rolls his eyes and then sets to studying his fingernails. "Make it quick. I am eager to be done with this," he says as Caroline starts to step forward. I lift my fingers to tell her to stop and then make a point of flicking my gaze down. She stops, her mouth forming a little "O." Before her face can give anything away, I wrap my arms around her shoulders. Suddenly she lets out a wail and drags us to the ground.
"Oh, stop. You are always so overdramatic," Vlad says as Caroline fakes heaving sobs, all the while wiggling the spoon out from beneath her foot. She yells at him to shut up, even while she's tucking it in my waistband. The point where it snapped is sharp, shardlike. After she is sure that it is concealed by my shirt, she stands up and backs away.
"I'm sorry for not believing you," she says and starts to cry anew. "I'll come back."
"Don't. Please."
"But what will I say?"
"You'll think of something." I manage to offer her a grim smile. "You're good at that. It's okay, Caroline," I say. "I swear. Go."
She remains still for one final second and then takes one step backward, and then another, and another. I watch her vanish into the wall of woods, listening to her footsteps dwindle as she gets farther and farther away. The tip of my makeshift stake digs into my side, but I don't mind the pain. The pain is hope.
"Now," Vlad says. "Where were we?"
Chapter Nineteen
He advances toward me, and I instinctively take a step back. It's difficult not to lunge at him again with the stake, but I know that a frontal attack is doomed to repeat failure. My only chance of success is if I wait until he is distracted.
"Once it is done, how will we contact the Danae?"
Vlad sneers. "For all of their 'secrecy,' it is not difficult to figure out who among the families is a part. I will contact them with word that I have information on Neville and then use that to explain - " He stops. "You do not care. I will not let you stall any longer."
