Evernight (12 page)

I wished I could sink into the floor.
Then Balthazar gave me an encouraging smile, the way he used to, and I knew
that even if we weren't hanging out any longer, at least we were still friends.
In fact, none of the Evernight types were looking down their noses at me like
they used to. Even if I wasn't really a vampire yet, I'd proved something to
them. Maybe I was "in the club."
In some ways, it felt like I'd gotten away with something—that I'd pulled off a
trick of some kind—closed my eyes and said abracadabra and turned the whole
world upside down. When I was holding hands with Lucas, laughing after class at
one of his jokes, I could believe that everything was going to be better from now
on.
That wasn't true, though. It couldn't be true as long as I was deceiving Lucas.
Before, I'd never thought of keeping my family's secret from Lucas as lying;
I'd been taught to keep that secret since I was a tiny child, drinking blood
from the butcher shop out of my bottle. Now I knew how close I'd come to
hurting him, and my secret didn't seem innocent any longer.
Lucas and I kissed constantly—all the time, before breakfast in the morning, as
we went to our different dorm areas at night, and basically pretty much any
other time we could be alone together for an instant. However, I always stopped
us before we got carried away. Sometimes I wanted more, and I could tell Lucas
did too from the way he watched me, paying attention to how I moved or the way
my fingers wrapped around his wrist. He never pushed me, though. When I lay
alone at night, my fantasies became even wilder and more desperate. Now I knew
what Lucas's mouth felt like on mine, and I could imagine his touch against my
bare skin with a clarity that startled me.
But when I had those fantasies now, the same image always bubbled up: my teeth
sinking into Lucas's throat.
There were times I thought I would do anything to taste Lucas's blood again.
That was when I was the most frightened.

* * *

"What do you think?" I modeled the old-fashioned
velvet hat for Lucas, thinking that he would laugh; surely the deep purple of
the fabric looked bizarre next to my red hair.
Instead he smiled at me in a way that made me feel warm all over. "You're
beautiful."
We were in a secondhand clothing shop in Riverton, enjoying our second weekend
in town together much more than the first. My parents had taken chaperone duty
at the theater again, so we'd decided to skip our chance to see
The Maltese
Falcon
. Instead we ran in and out of the shops that were still open,
looking at posters and books, and dealing with some eye rolling from the clerks
behind the counter, who were clearly sick of teenagers from "that
school" running amuck. Too bad for them, because we were having a great
time.
I took a white fur stole from a shelf and draped it around my shoulders.
"What do you think?"
"Fur is dead." Lucas said it sort of wryly, but maybe he didn't think
people should wear fur at all. I personally felt like vintage things ought to
be okay; the animals had died decades and decades ago, so it wasn't like you
were doing any more harm. All the same, I hastily took the stole off.
Lucas, meanwhile, tried on a gray tweed overcoat he'd dug out of an overstuffed
rack in the back. Like the rest of the shop, it smelled sort of musty, but in a
good way, and the coat looked amazing on him. "That's sort of Sherlock
Holmesy," I said. "If Sherlock Holmes were sexy."
He laughed. "Some girls go for the intellectual type, you know."
"Aren't you lucky I'm not one of them?"
Fortunately, he liked it when I teased him. He grabbed me, arms around my arms
so that I couldn't even hug him back, and kissed me soundly on the forehead.
"You're impossible," he murmured. "But you're worth it."
The way he held me, my face was buried in the curve of his neck; all I could
see were the faint pink lines on his throat, the scars of my own bite.
"I'm glad you think so."
"I know so."
I wasn't going to argue with him. There was no reason my one terrible mistake
couldn't remain just that—one mistake, never to be repeated.
Lucas's finger brushed along my cheek, a gentle touch like the soft tip of a
paintbrush. Klimt's
Kiss
flickered in my mind, gold and gauzy, and for a
moment it was as though Lucas and I really had been drawn into the painting
with all its beauty and its need. Hidden behind the racks as we were, lost in a
maze of old, cracked leather and wrinkled satin and rhinestone buckles dulled
with time, Lucas and I could've kissed for hours without being found. I imagined
it for a moment—Lucas placing a black fur coat on the floor, laying me atop it,
lowering himself over me—
I pressed my lips against his neck, right on the scars, the way my mother used
to kiss a bruise or scrape to make it better. His pulse was strong. Lucas
tensed, and I thought maybe I'd gone too far.
It can't be easy for him either,
I told myself.
Sometimes I think I'm
going to go crazy if I don't touch him, so how much worse must it be for Lucas?
Especially since he can't know the reasons why.
The jingling of bells jolted us out of our trance. We both peeked around the
corner to see who had come in. "Vic!" Lucas shook his head. "I
should've known you'd show up here."
Vic sauntered toward us, thumbs beneath the lapels of the striped blazer he
wore beneath his winter coat. "This style doesn't put itself together, you
know. It takes effort to look this good." He then groaned as he looked
longingly at Lucas's tweed overcoat. "You tall guys get all the best
stuff, man."
"I'm not buying this." Lucas shrugged it off, ready to leave.
Probably he wanted to give us a few more moments of privacy; it was almost time
to return to the bus. I knew how he felt. As much as I liked Vic, I didn't
really want him tagging around.
"You're crazy, Lucas. Something like that fit me? I'd snap it up."
Vic sighed. He looked dangerously close to accompanying us out to the bus.
I thought fast. "You know, in the back of the store, I think I saw some
ties painted with hula girls."
"Seriously?" Just like that, Vic was gone, pushing his way through
the clothes display in search of hula ties.
"Good work." Lucas pulled the hat from my head, then took my hand.
"Let's go."
We were almost to the door when we walked past the jewelry rack, and a dark,
glittering object caught my eye. A brooch, carved of something that was as
black as the night sky but shone brilliantly: I realized that it was a pair of
flowers, exotic and sharp petaled, just like the one in my dream. The brooch
was small enough to fit in my palm and intricately carved, but what amazed me
the most was how much it looked like a flower that I had started to think only
existed in my imagination. I had stopped in my tracks to stare at it.
"Look, Lucas. It's so beautiful."
"That's genuine Whitby jet. Victorian-era mourning jewelry." The
saleslady peered at us over the lenses of her blue-rimmed reading glasses,
trying to evaluate whether we were potential customers or kids who needed to be
scared off. Probably she decided on the latter, because she added, "Very
expensive."
Lucas didn't like being challenged. "How expensive?" he said coolly,
like his last name was Rockefeller instead of Ross.
"Two hundred dollars."
My eyes probably bugged out. When your parents are schoolteachers, you don't
get the biggest allowance in the world. The only thing I'd ever bought that
cost more than two hundred dollars was my telescope, and my parents had chipped
in for that. I laughed a little, trying to disguise my embarrassment and the
sadness I felt at having to leave the brooch behind. Each black petal was more
beautiful than the last.
Lucas simply pulled out his wallet and offered the clerk a credit card.
"We'll take it."
She raised an eyebrow but took the card and started ringing up the purchase.
"Lucas!" I grabbed his arm and tried to speak under my breath.
"You can't."
"Can, too."
"But it's two hundred dollars!"
"You love it," he said quietly. "I can tell by the look in your
eyes. If you love it, you should have it."
The brooch still sat in the display case. I stared down at it, trying to
imagine anything so beautiful belonging to me. "I do—love it, I mean,
but—Lucas, I don't want you in debt because of me."
"Since when do poor people attend Evernight?"
Okay, he had a point there. For some reason, I'd never really thought about the
fact that Lucas must be wealthy. Vic, too, probably. Raquel was a scholarship
kid, but there were only a handful of those. Most of the human students were
actually paying through the nose for the chance to be surrounded by
vampires—though, of course, they didn't realize that last part. They didn't
come across like snobs, probably because they didn't have a chance. The ones
who
really
acted like entitled rich kids were the ones who'd been saving
money for centuries or who bought IBM stock back when the typewriter was a
newfangled invention. The hierarchy at Evernight was so strict—vampires on top,
humans hardly worthy of notice—that I hadn't realized that most of the human
kids came from money, too.
Then I remembered that Lucas had tried to tell me once about his mother and how
controlling she could be. They'd traveled all around, even lived in Europe, and
he'd said that his grandfather or great-grandfather or somebody had attended
Evernight as well, at least until he got expelled for dueling. I should've
realized he wasn't poor.
Not that this was a bad surprise. In my opinion, all boyfriends should turn out
to be secretly wealthy. But it reminded me that, as much as I adored Lucas, we
were still only beginning to learn about each other.
And that made me remember the secrets I kept.
The saleslady offered to wrap up the brooch, but Lucas took it and pinned it on
my winter coat. I kept tracing the sharp-carved petals with one finger as we
walked out into the town square, hand in hand. "Thank you. This is the
best gift anyone's ever bought for me."
"Then it's the best money I ever spent."
I ducked my head, bashful and happy. We would've gone on being mushy for a
while if we hadn't walked into the town square and found the students milling
around the bus, talking animatedly with each other with absolutely no teachers
around. "Why is everybody standing around like that? How come they aren't
boarding the bus yet?"
Lucas blinked, obviously thrown off by the sudden change in subject. "Uh,
I don't know." Then, more focused, he continued, "You're right. They
should've started calling us by now."
We walked down into the crowd of students. "What's going on?" I asked
Rodney, a guy I knew from chemistry.
"It's Raquel. She's taken off."
That couldn't be right. I insisted, "She wouldn't leave by herself. She
gets scared easily."
"Really? She always seemed kinda standoffish to me." Vic joined us in
the crowd, holding a clear plastic bag stuffed with garish ties. Then Rodney
paused, like he realized it might not be good manners to speak badly about the
missing person. "I saw her earlier at the diner. Some townie kid was
trying to talk to her and striking out. I didn't run into her after that."
I grabbed Lucas's hand. "Do you think that guy's done something to
her?"
"She could just be running late." Lucas was trying to be reassuring,
but he wasn't doing a very good job.
Vic shrugged. "Hey, maybe he finally said the right thing and she's making
out with him right now."
Raquel wouldn't ever do that. She was too cautious and too distrustful to ever
impulsively hook up with a guy she didn't know. Guiltily, I wished that I'd
asked her to hang out with Lucas and me instead of leaving her on her own.
My father walked into the town square, his forehead furrowed. I realized that
he was even more concerned than I was. Dad said only, "Everyone, get on
the bus and head back. We'll find Raquel, so don't worry."
"I'll stay and look for her, too." I stepped toward my father and
away from Lucas. "We're friends. I can think of a few places she might
have gone."
"Okay." Dad nodded. "Everybody else, get going."
Lucas put one hand on my shoulder. This wasn't the romantic farewell I'd
planned earlier. He wasn't selfishly disappointed, however. All I saw was
concern for Raquel and for me. "I ought to stay behind, too, help you guys
out."
"They won't let you. I'm sort of surprised they let me."
"It's dangerous," he said quietly.
My heart went out to him—desperate to protect me, completely unaware how well I
could protect myself. I said the only thing that I thought might reassure him.
"My father will look out for me." I went up on tiptoe to kiss Lucas's
cheek, then brushed my fingers across the brooch again. "Thank you. So
much."
Lucas didn't like leaving me behind, but mentioning my dad had done the trick.
He kissed me quickly. "I'll see you tomorrow."
As the bus pulled away, my father and I began hurrying toward the outskirts of
town. Dad said, "Do you really know where she might've gone?"
"Not a clue," I admitted. "But you need every searcher you can
get. Besides, what if you need somebody to cross the river?" Vampires
don't like running water. It didn't bother me at all—at least, not yet—but it
drove my parents crazy to cross even a small stream or brook.
"My girl can take care of herself." Dad's pride caught me off guard,
but in a good way. "You're really growing up here, Bianca. Your time at
Evernight—it's changing you for the better."
I rolled my eyes, tired of the father-knows-best routine already. "That's
what happens when you survive adversity."
"News flash: that's high school."
"You act like you actually went to high school."
"Trust me, adolescence was lousy in the eleventh century, too. Humanity
changes all the time, but there are a few constants. People get stupid when
they're in love; people want what they can't have; and the years between ages
twelve and eighteen always, always suck." Dad became serious again as we
left the main road. "We don't have anyone on the west side of the river.
Stay close to the bank if you're worried about losing your way."
"I can't get lost." I pointed upward at the bright, starry sky, where
all the constellations waited to guide me. "See you later."
Although we hadn't yet seen our first snowfall, winter had claimed the countryside.
The earth beneath my feet was crisp with frost, and dead grasses and leafless
shrubs scraped against my jeans legs as I made my way along the riverbank. Pale
beech trunks stood out from the other trees like lightning bolts in a stormy
sky. I ended up staying fairly close to the water, not because I was worried
about getting lost but because Raquel might be—and if she'd wandered this way,
she'd have wanted the river to give her some direction.
She wouldn't have wandered off. If Raquel came this way, it isn't as simple
as her being lost.
My overactive imagination, always quick to supply worst-case scenarios, kept
flashing terrible scenes in my mind: Raquel robbed by some townie who wanted to
steal from one of the "rich kids" at that school. Raquel trying to
run from the drunken construction workers I'd seen in the pizza place,
transformed by my fear from protectors of women to predators. Raquel overcome
by whatever sadness it was that haunted her, walking into the icy waters of the
river and being sucked down by its powerful current.
A swift, rushing sound above me made me jump, but it was only a crow, flapping
from branch to branch. I breathed out in relief—then realized that, further to
the west, there was a spot of brightness in the bushes.
I hurried in that direction, running as quickly as I could. Once, I opened my
mouth to call Raquel's name, then shut it again without calling. If it was
Raquel ahead, I'd find out soon enough. If it wasn't, I might not want to draw
attention.
As I got closer, my breathing now heavy from exertion, I heard Raquel's voice.
Whatever gladness I might've felt was destroyed by her frightened words:
"Leave me alone!"
"Hey, what's the problem?" I knew that voice—too confident, slyly
mocking. "You keep acting like we'd never met before."
It was Erich. He hadn't come into town on the school trip. None of the
"Evernight types" had. They seemed to consider it boring—or, more
likely, they were simply eager for some time to hang out and be themselves
without having to hide their true natures. At the moment, though, Erich looked
like he was way too close to his true nature. Apparently he'd followed us into
Riverton and waited to find somebody who walked off alone—and that was Raquel.