Rachel Caine & Kristin Cast & Claudia Gray & Nancy Holder & Tanith Lee & Richelle Mead & Cynthia Leitich Smith & P. C. Cast (17 page)

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Authors: Immortal_Love Stories,a Bite

Tags: #Young Adult Fiction, #Vampires, #Juvenile Fiction, #Paranormal, #Fantasy & Magic, #Fiction, #Interpersonal Relations, #Children's Stories; American, #Supernatural, #General, #Short Stories, #Horror, #Love Stories

BOOK: Rachel Caine & Kristin Cast & Claudia Gray & Nancy Holder & Tanith Lee & Richelle Mead & Cynthia Leitich Smith & P. C. Cast
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But after ten miserable minutes of silence passed, Nathan finally eyed the doorway with suspicion. He walked over to it and stuck his head in. “Pete?” No answer came, and Nathan ventured farther in. Thirty seconds later, he came tearing out of the room. He grabbed my arm and jerked me toward the main door. I was so surprised that I stumbled along with him. If I'd wanted to, my strength would have stopped him from even budging me.
“What's going on?” I asked as we stepped back outside.
“They're all gone. There was a TV on back there too. My guess is they saw the story, sold us out, and then took off.”
We slid into the car, and he started up the engine. Once we'd pulled away from the curb and were on the road, he handed me the fake badge. They'd apparently finished it and then abandoned it. It said my name was Sara Brown, that I was an eighteen-year-old human, and that I had work clearance to cross out of the city to the suburbs. Most intriguing of all was the picture. Donna had done a good job of diminishing some of my paleness. I wasn't fake-baked or anything, but there was definitely a human-like color to my face. And the eyes . . . the eyes were exquisite. They were a clear, pale blue. I was entranced.
“At least we didn't have to pay for it,” I pointed out.
“Not that it does us a lot of good. We can't cross over.”
“Why not?”
“Pete would have told the police I was with you. By now, they've pulled up everything there is to know about me—including my car and license plate. Every checkpoint knows we're coming and what we'll be in.”
The urge to cry returned, and I again shoved it back. I tried hard to be strong and think of a solution on my own.
“Can we steal a car?”
He cut me a look. “Do you know how to?”
“Well, no.”
“Do you think I know how to? You think that's something all lower class humans know how to do? That we're all criminals?”
“Well, no . . . of course not. I mean—”
“But,” he interrupted, “you might be on to something.” He abruptly pulled over to the curb and opened the car door. “Come on.”
I scurried out after him. “What are we doing?”
“Finding other transportation.”
We cut through a parking lot and ended up on a street that reminded me of the one Club Fathom was on. Only, much like in the tattoo parlor's neighborhood, everything here was dirtier and plainer. We stood off to the side, and Nathan studied the crowds. People who walked past us didn't give us a second glance. We were both just ordinary humans.
Finally, his eyes landed on two guys walking out of a bar. One held a set of keys and a bit of purple showed near his waist. Nathan took my hand, and we ran up to them. He turned the smile back on.
“Hey, man, are you guys going out of the city?” Nathan flashed them his purple badge.
One of the guys was clearly drunk, and the other (the driver, I hoped) looked like he was in a good mood. “Yeah, out to Evanston.”
“Our car broke down,” said Nathan. “And there's no way we can get it fixed before curfew. Can we bum a ride with you? Doesn't matter where you drop us off—just get us out, and then I'll call my friends.”
The two guys exchanged glances, then looked back at us. “Sure,” said the sober one. “No problem.” They must have decided we were harmless enough. Little did they know.
Once we were on the road, the two guys talked to each other, practically forgetting we were in the backseat.
“What did you want to study in college?” I asked Nathan, keeping my voice low. “Drama?”
He'd been staring out the window, face stormy, no doubt pondering how I'd ruined his life. “Huh?”
“You're doing a pretty good acting job with everyone,” I explained.
He gave me a bitter smile. “When you could potentially be killed by a vamp mob boss, you suddenly get really good at acting. But for the record? You're terrible. I never actually believed you were going to rip my throat out.”
“Oh,” I said, hearing the disappointment in my own voice.
“You aren't eighteen yet, are you?”
“No.”
“How much longer until you are?”
“Less than a year.”
A bit of worry crossed his features. “Oh. You could still make a kill now.”
“I won't. I'm . . . I'm going to wait.”
All vampires had to have their first feeding by the time they turned eighteen, and there were times I felt that desire for blood waking up, even though the thought of actually killing someone in cold blood terrified me. That was why I was in no rush for the kill—that and I had a few other things on my mind, like staying alive. My mom wouldn't get to throw her big first-kill party for me. Of course, if Bryan and the others caught me soon, maybe my parents could just use the decorations and caterers for my funeral.
I moved the subject back. “So, what would you study in college?”
“Mmm. I don't know. Something different. Something with meaning. Something that could change the world.” There was an inspired, almost wistful look on his face. A moment later, he seemed to replay his words and grow embarrassed at having admitted something so idealist and vulnerable. His face darkened. “Something that isn't a bartender.”
“Well, even if you can't go to college . . . maybe you could do some other kind of work?”
He shook his head, expression darkening once more. “There you go again, Lucy. You still don't see what it's like, not from your position.”
“Why is it so hard? You're smart and nice and obviously resourceful. Why can't you do something else?”
He seemed a little surprised at the compliments, but that didn't sidetrack him. “You're a vampire. You're at the top of the food chain. Our master.
You
can do anything you want. You can kill us if you want, and really, there are no consequences.”
“The lottery—”
“Oh, come on. Even you can't be naïve enough to believe that the lottery is
always
followed.”
To ration our food supply, we'd instituted an annual feeding system. Certain populations of humans—criminals, the poor, other undesirables—were put into a pool and when each vampire's feeding time came, he or she drew a name. It was why the border between the city and the suburbs was so
strictly regulated. It made it easier to track down the “winners.” Who got put into the pool was sketchy sometimes, and as he had pointed out, the system wasn't always followed. Plenty of vampires indulged in non-regulatory snacks, even if it was technically illegal. But when humans disappeared, few people asked questions.
“I can see why you hate us,” I said feebly.
He turned back to the window. “No. You really can't.”
“Do you hate me?”
“I don't know what I think of you. You've probably destroyed my life. I should turn you in at the border . . . and yet. . . .”
“What?”
He sighed. “I don't know. There's something weird about you. Something . . . well, I can't explain it. It's like I've known you for a long time. God, that sounds so stupid.”
Not entirely stupid. I knew exactly what he meant, though I still didn't understand it either.
For the rest of the drive, I just sat back and thought. My whole life had changed. Everything I'd expected to do with it seemed impossible now. In my mind's eye, I could still see the disc, that beautiful circle embossed with gold and silver, covered in swirls and shapes that everyone assumed were nonsensical designs created by a long-dead vampire artisan. But when I'd looked at it, the symbols had spoken to me. Looking at them was like reading a billboard. The message had come through to me loud and clear—and everyone had realized it. My father and Bryan had acted quickly, and I'd barely managed to escape.
“Here we are,” said Nathan, interrupting my thoughts.
The car slowed down, and ahead, I recognized the signs of a border checkpoint. Long stretches of cruel, barbed fences. Towering, blinding lamp posts. My heart raced as I recalled what Nathan had said about random checks.
He and I handed our badges to the driver. A moment later, a vampire in a uniform peered through the open window. He looked bored, probably at the end of his shift and tired of inspecting cars. He skimmed through the stack of badges, hardly even looking at them. Hope surged in me. Pete would have tipped the authorities off to my fake badge name, but border security was probably paying a lot more attention to cars with just a guy and a girl. The vampire handed the badges back and then shone a flashlight on all of our faces. It lingered on mine, and suddenly, he looked a little less bored. After a few moments of studying me, the guard said, “Pull through to the holding area.” He stepped back, pointing to a spot off to the side of the wooden gate that admitted traffic.
“Damn it,” said the guy driving. He didn't sound scared so much as annoyed. “I just want to get home.”
I shot Nathan a panicked look. He placed a reassuring hand on mine, seemed surprised, and took it back. “This happens. It's random.”
We got out of the car, and a bored-looking uniformed woman searched it. Meanwhile, the guy who'd looked in the window searched us. He had everyone turn out their pockets, and then he felt each of us down. I was the last one he came to. I tensed, fearing recognition, and then suddenly realized that wasn't what I needed to be afraid of.
He pushed me up against the passenger side of the car, standing so close that there was almost no space between us. I felt trapped, suffocated. Then, when his hands began running up and down my body, I thought I would scream. He spent much longer ‘searching' me than he had the others, far more interested in my body itself than anything I might be hiding on it. Beyond him, I saw Nathan glowering.
“Will you hurry up?” asked the other guard, clearly annoyed.
“Hang on,” said my guard. “She seems dangerous.”
I knew I was trembling and hated myself for it, even though it was what a human would probably do. A human girl would stand there, afraid, and take this humiliation. That was all I had to do. It'd be over soon if I could just be patient.
But when his hands slid under my shirt and up to the bottom edge of my bra, I snapped. Anger burst up inside of me. Before he realized what was happening, I lashed out and grabbed him, throwing him as far and as hard as I could into the small brick building that stood at the border. We both had the same vampiric strength and reflexes, but I'd caught him totally unprepared. He hit the wall with a
thwack
and slumped to the ground, unmoving. His face was dazed and blank, but I knew I hadn't killed him. He would heal soon, just like all vampires did.
The woman stood there, stunned for a moment. Then her eyes widened with recognition. “Lucy Wade,” she exclaimed, just before leaping out at me.
I blocked her attack as best I could. We were close in size, but she'd been trained to fight, and I hadn't. I hit the
side of the car with a jolt, rattling my teeth. She came at me again while yelling for back-up. I swung at her with a very bad punch. I missed her face but hit her shoulder, which made her stagger a little. Any minute now, reinforcements would show up or the guy I'd thrown was going to get up.
Suddenly, I heard a car door slam. From the driver's side window, I heard Nathan yell, “Lucy, get in!” The engine started up.
I dodged a punch. Eyeing the woman carefully, I waited for her next swing. It came, and I dropped to the ground and scrambled away. I made it to the other side of the car, but she was only footsteps behind. I slid into the backseat on the driver's side. She reached for me, and I slammed the door on her hand. She screamed in pain and jerked back. I shut the door.
She beat on the side of the car, but Nathan hit the gas, heading straight toward the wooden gate. We hit it. The impact pushed my head sharply against the backseat, but we kept on going through a shower of splinters. I suspected the car's front didn't look so good.
I righted myself from my sprawl. “You're insane,” I said. Peering around him, I saw that we were going about eighty. I glanced back, half-expecting to see flashing lights. There were none yet, but it could only be a matter of time.
“Me? You're the one who decided to take on the border patrol.”
“That guy was a pervert.”
“They're all like that,” said Nathan. “Well, okay. They're not all the girl-molesting types, but that kind of stuff goes on all the time—and things a lot worse than that too.”
“Thanks for another lesson on how terrible vampires are.”
I couldn't see his face, but I had a feeling he looked sheepish. “Are . . . are you okay?”
“Yeah. He didn't do much.” Something warm swirled in me at the thought that Nathan might actually be worried about me.
The car suddenly swerved off onto an angling road, and I slid to the side, just barely putting my hands out in time to brace myself.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“You still want to go to Lakemont?”
Did I?
We can help you. We'll protect you.
The words echoed in my mind.
“Yeah.”
“Then we can't take the main road. There's going to be an army coming after us.”
Even off the freeway, Nathan kept up an aggressive speed. We rode in silence for a long time, and finally, I asked, “What happened?”
“Hmm?”
“Something happened to you. It's why you hate vampires.”
“What, you haven't seen enough tonight to figure out why I'd hate you guys?”
Yes, I certainly had. And it was bothering me. I'd played human for less than two hours and learned more than I wanted to about the interactions between our races. And yet, that strange sense I had about Nathan told me there was something more that I needed to hear.

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