Blood and Snow Volumes 1-4: Blood and Snow, Revenant in Training, The Vampire Christopher, Blood Soaked Promises (22 page)

“Near the back?” I repeated, placing a foot on the bottom step.

“That’s right.”

“I’ll be sure to check it out, and let you know in the next couple of days. Will that be okay?”

“Of course.” Professor Pops waved me away, and I took the remaining stairs two at a time.

On my way out
of the house
, I said good-bye to five of the seven brothers. Dorian and Gabe weren’t around, which reminded me that I hadn’t heard from Cindy since
chemistry
. I really hoped she was okay.

In the brisk night air, I glanced at the stars, each one so bright, like the moon. Inhaling, I tried to calm myself. The thought of being alone with Christopher did things to me—to my heart, low in my belly. Without thought, I started to cross
our
yards, hurrying
through the thick trees and brush.
When I reached the stairs leading up to my back porch,
I noticed several lights
in the house turned
on—upstairs too. He’d snooped.

What are you up to, I thought, my heart skipping several beats.

Flinging open the door, I hollered, “I’m back,
Chri
—”

For a moment, I think my heart stopped. Sitti
ng at the dining room table was
my dad, and stepmother.

“Hello, dear,” my stepmother said
, a cruel smile lifting her lips
. “Surprise.”

Blood and Snow 4: Blood Soaked Promises

Chapter 1

“D
ad. Vivianne. You’re home.” I wanted to rush over and hug my dad, but my stepmother’s scowl held me in place.

“Hi Snow-Angel,” dad said slowly, clearing his throat. He looked good, more in shape, though he still dressed like an undercover TV cop—Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and socks with sandals.
He was tan with
natural blond streaks in his otherwise dark hair. His face crinkled near his eyes from smiling.
He and my stepmother
sat
across the dining table from each other. Dozens of bags piled between them
.

Gats
by darted from under the table
and wound around my legs, yowling for his dinner.

“Don’t you feed him? He’s
too skinny,” Vivianne said. Sh
e wore a pair of white shorts
and a light blue tank. One tanned leg was crosse
d over the other, and her wedge-
sandaled foot bounced rhythmically.
She seemed a lot younger than my dad, closer to my age than his. Not a single wrinkle marred her perfect complexion. Each dark brown hair on her head rested in place.

“Of course I do
.
Twice a day.
Every day.” I grabbed Gatsby’s
kibble from under the sink and poured some into his bowl, then filled his water. F
inished
,
I went over to my dad, who
shuffled his feet
awkwardly near the counter, and hugged him. “How was your trip?” I asked, stepping back.

Vivianne
came over
and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“G
ood. We’re only here
a short time
. Then it’s back to work.” She hooked a finger in my shirt. “Why do you insist on wearing boy clothes?” She’d
said boy as though it tasted like acid on her tongue
.

I pulled away. “They’re comfortable.”

She balked, walking over to the table. As she dug through the bags, I eyed my dad. “You have to leave again
so soon
?”

“Not for a few weeks. By the time we go, you’ll be sick of us.” He h
ugged me again, and I inhaled
his
sandalwood
aftershave
, the fragrance filling
me with comfort.

Dad was sort of a mogul, I guess. Cindy said
our family
had more money than God. I’d done an
Internet search on my dad
once, and discovered he owned a private jet, kept a building in Boston, and owned several vacation res
orts all over the world. But
I’d never seen his offices, been to one of his resorts, flown on one of his planes, or, well… felt rich. Dad didn’t act like a wealthy man.
Didn’t dress like one either.

Our house,
hidden by trees, resided
in
a pretentious
neighborhood
. Built in the early 1800’s, it was
one of the smallest on the block
. Mansions, like Professor Pops’ house, were built up around our little cottage. A
nd
then there was my stepmother’s strange love of all things Disney. The inside could be mistaken for a
gift
shop
rather than a multimillionaire
’
s residence.

Dad had been around more
before my mom died
. Now, he rarely stayed home longer than a few weeks
at a time
.

“I could never get sick of you. I miss you
when you’re gone
,” I whispered. No doubt I’d be sick of Vivianne, but certainly not my dad. I loved him. When he was around I felt
content
and happy. Hugging him tighter, I swallowed a sigh.

Vivianne cleared her throat.
“How’s track going? Won any races yet?” Her expression was one of amusement, and I bit back a retort.

“Not yet, maybe soon.” I shrugged. My dad and stepmother weren’t around enough to know whether I’d grown less klutzy or not.

“Really? You’ve figured out how to put one foot in front of the other without tripping?”

“I—” I didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t like I could spill about becoming a revenant. Viv, especially, would freak, and talk my dad into sending me to an asylum. Don’t get me wrong. Dad had a backbone. For some reason though, he always bent to her will. 

“That’s enough,” my dad growled, his eyes flashing with anger. I would’ve cheered, except he immediately turned contrite. “I’m sure Snow is doing a fine job in track. Aren’t you Snow-Angel?”

I brushed my bangs out of my eyes. “Doing great,” I replied with a nod.

Viv held
in her hands a formal, lavender dress. I had no idea what the materials were called, but the spaghetti strapped bodice
was shiny, and the bottom half reminded me of
a
fluffy,
lavender cloud.
The dress
sparkled, as though diamonds frolicked within the layers. A large grin spread over Viv’s face. “Happy birthday, Snow.”

Tentative, I stepped forward, touching the little lavender rose belt cinched around the waist. “It’s beautiful.” I didn’t want to overly encourage Viv. “Where am I going to wear this?”

She huffed, exasperated. “Mr. Henry told us about the birthday party he’s planned for you.” She turned and walked back to the table. From a bag she pulled out something wrapped in tissue paper. “Hold this,” she said, handing my dad the dress.
After he
took it
, Viv carefully
removed
the white paper, producing
a stunning mask. Decorated in glittering beading, their colors lilac, teal, and fuchsia, as were several soft-looking feathers
that protruded from one side
. The
beading around the eyes was
black.
“Mr. Henry said the party theme
was a masked ball.
” She touched a delicate feather. “
This mask is from Milan, and cost more than most people make in a year.”

My dad shuffled his feet, uncomfortable.

Viv added, “You’ll look lovely.
The black beading will
bring out your stunning blue eyes.”

I reached out, drawn to the colorful beading. V
iv slapped my hand away. “Wash your hands first.” She took the dress from my dad. “I hope this fits you. It’s hard to tell under all those baggy clothes.”

As I dried my hands on a towel, I asked, “What size is it?”

“Tut. Tut. Go try it on.” I took the dress and went upstairs. There wasn’t a tag in the dress, or a
size. Viv probably didn’t know
.

When I entered my room, I casually peeked around. Closing the door, I whispered, “Christopher. Charming. Are you here?” I checked my bathroom, the shower, my closet, even under my bed. He wasn’t there. My stomach sank. I figured he’d left when my dad and stepmother showed up. I hoped he’d come back later—after they went to bed.

“Snow! Hurry up,” Viv shouted.

“Okay.” I threw off my clothes, and cautiously ste
pped into the dress, zipping
up the side.

I went over to the full-length mirror, and twirled side to side, watching the dress glimmer.
It fit perfectly.

“Snow,” Viv hollered again.

“Keep your hair on,” I muttered, opening the door. At the top of the stairs I paused. Viv clutched her throat, and she gasped. That made me smile
. A part of me
wondered if Viv had hoped the dress
wouldn’t fit. But she said, “Snow, you look amazing.”

“Yes, you do. Like
royalty
,” D
ad chimed in.

Viv gave him a dark glance. Then she scowled
in my direction
. “Come down. Let me see you.”

I walked down the stairs. Before I reached th
e bottom her hands were on me, p
ulling and tugging. I hoped she didn’t rip any of the material. After several minutes, she said, “It isn’t perfect, but you’ll do.”

I wiped the grin off my face
and nodded. “Well I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” Giving
Viv an uncomfortable hug, I continued
, “Thank you for the dress. It’s gorgeous. I love it.”