Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side (22 page)

Damn.
She was good.

"Mom . . ."

"Yes, Jessica?"

"I saw Lucius drink blood. And I saw his teeth. Again."

Mom took my hand and squeezed it. "Welcome to the world of the mysterious, Jessica." A shadow crossed her face. "Please be careful there. It's very, very tricky territory. Completely untamed. The mysterious can be beautiful—and dangerous."

I knew what she meant. Lucius. "I'll be careful, Mom."

"The Vladescu family has a certain reputation for ruthless-ness," she added, more directly. "You know your father and I like Lucius very much, and he is charming, but we must also keep in mind that his upbringing was no doubt very different from yours. And not just in terms of material possessions."

"I know, Mom. He's told me a little bit. Besides, I keep telling you—I don't feel like that about him."

Liar.

"Well, just so you know, I'm always here to talk. So is your father."

"Thanks, Mom." I tossed aside the blanket and stood to go, kissing her cheek. "For now, I just need to think."

"Of course." Mom spun back around to her journals. "I love you, Jessica," she added over her shoulder as I pulled her door shut. In spite of her warnings, in spite of her obvious concerns for me, I swore I heard the faintest hint of a smile in her voice.

Chapter
26

DEAR VASILE,

I continue to await your response to my concerns regarding Jessicas near-certain fate, should she take the throne. Have you nothing to say?

What am I to read from your silence?

Honestly, Vasile, I tire of navigating this situation with little guidance, thousands of miles from home. I am fatigued by com-peting, unsuccessfully, with a peasant. I am drained by bodily injury. I grow impatient for . . . for what? Something I cannot even name. I grow weary of my own nature, my own thoughts, my past, and my future, lying here.

In the absence of constructive comment, I will proceed as my instinct currently dictates regarding Antanasia. I doubt that you will agree with my course of action, but I feel, of late, frustrated
and restive and recklessly willful. I chafe at the bit you've kept in my mouth for so long.

Yours,

Lucius

Chapter
27

"WELL, YOU'RE FINALLY out of the garage like you wanted," I teased.

"I can't believe you live like this," Lucius smirked, propped against my pink satin pillows. In my bedroom. Mom had insisted Lucius move inside until his leg healed. His cast was propped up on the oversized stuffed hot dog. "It's like living in a frothy cocoon of cotton candy." He made a face. "So much pink."

"I like pink."

Lucius sniffed. "It's just red's sorry, weak cousin."

"Well, it's not forever. You'll be back in your gloomy dungeon with your rusty weapons before long." I glanced around my room. "Have you seen my iPod?"

"This?" Lucius located my MP3 player in a jumble of sheets and held it up.

"Yes." I held out my hand. "Give."

"Oh, can't I keep it? It's so boring being confined here, and I'm enjoying exploring your musical preferences."

Here we go.
"Why don't you buy your own?"

"But yours is already loaded with the Black Eyed Peas." He was mocking me.

"Don't be a jerk."

"I like them. Honestly." A devilish grin crossed his face. "My humps, my humps! What's not to like?"

I swiped the iPod from his hands and he laughed. I grinned, too. "If you weren't already broken all to pieces . . ."

"What?" He grabbed my wrist with lightning speed for someone with broken ribs. "You'd beat me into submission? Right. In your dreams."

Yes.

Sometimes, lately. In my dreams.
I mean, I wasn't dreaming about beating him up. But lately, Lucius had been making more guest appearances in my sleep. At weddings. In dark caves. By flickering candlelight.

He released me, growing serious. "Jessica, I've consumed so many pain medications. I really can't thank your local physician, Dr. Zsoldos, enough. Why suffer?"

"You're rambling."

"Oh, yes. Well, I've never properly thanked you." He pushed himself up a little straighter, wincing as his ribs shifted. "Catching Hell's Belle, staying with me. You were very brave."

I shifted my weight, trying not to jostle his leg. "I'm sorry they put her down."

Lucius looked out the window, mouth drawn down. "You did your best. But some things are just too dangerous to live, I suppose."

"You tried to tame her," I added lamely. "It worked for a while."

"It wasn't in her nature to be tamed. In the end, we are all true to our natures. Our upbringings."

We sat in silence for a second, and I wondered what Lucius was thinking about. The horse—or himself?

"Congratulations on second place," he finally said.

I followed his gaze to the corkboard on my wall, where I'd hung my red ribbon next to a bunch of blue ones I'd won for math competitions. Of course, Faith Crosse had won the blue ribbon. My performance had been good, but not good enough. "You deserved the blue," I told Lucius, meaning it.

"How odd that I received a 'lifetime ban' from 4-H, then," he noted wryly. "They created a whole new rule, you know. Just for me. 'Prohibition against knowingly bringing a vicious animal to a public event.' I was the first violator, retroactively. A pioneer in lawlessness, so to speak." He laughed, coughed sharply, and clutched his ribs. "Damn."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I just
slay
myself, at times." He smiled. "Literally."

I fidgeted with my iPod. "Lucius?"

"Yes, Jessica?"

I met his black eyes. "I was there. That night."

"I know."

"You do?"

"You came to me late at night. Took my hand."

I resumed my study of my iPod, embarrassed. "Oh ... I thought you were asleep."

"Don't fidget while conversing." Lucius plucked the MP3 player from my fingers. "Of course I knew you were there. I'm a light sleeper. Especially when every inch of my body is wracked with pain."

"Sorry." I smiled weakly. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"No ... on the contrary, I was quite touched," Lucius said. His eyes softened, all of the imperiousness fading away. "You wept for my distress. No one has ever wept to see me suffer before. I shall not forget that kindness, Jessica."

"It was just how I felt then. I couldn't help crying."

"No, of course not." The admission seemed to pain him, somehow. "Still, when I return to my life in Romania, no one will cry to see Lucius Vladescu broken. And when I suffer—as is inevitable—I shall remember your gesture with fondness and appreciation."

"I won't forget that night, either," I promised. I wiped my palms on my legs. They'd grown sweaty. "Lucius ... I saw you drink the blood."

"Ahh, the blood." He didn't seem surprised by my confession. "I hope you were not unduly upset. Not
too
disgusted. I hadn't judged you ready to see
that.
It can be rather
off-putting
for those not used to it."

"I sort of passed out."

Lucius smiled sadly and stared out the window. "Even insensate on a table, I manage to sicken you. Quite a talent I have."

"No. It wasn't just seeing the blood. I ... I smelled it, too."

Lucius turned his head slowly to look at me, as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd heard. There was a small spark in his eyes. "You did?"

"Yes."

"And what, exactly, did it smell like?"

"It was strong. Almost overpowering."

"Yes. So it is. So it becomes."

"That's what you keep in that Orange Julius cup, isn't it?"

Lucius smiled wryly. "Did I really seem like a man who would drink strawberry froth from a kiosk at the mall? Have I not expressed my feelings toward pink things?"

"Yeah. I guess I should have known." A question had been burning in my mind. A question I wasn't sure I wanted answered. But I had to ask. "Lucius, where do you
get it?"
Visions from old movies, of terrified women in gauzy nightgowns cowering before fanged attackers, loomed in my mind. "Is it. . . violent?"

"Oh, Jessica . . . vampires have ways. It is not as rapacious now as it was in the past. Much is maintained in collections, like wine. One need not always stomp a grape to drink champagne, you know."

Moving carefully to protect his ribs, Lucius laced his fingers behind his head, sinking into the pillow, gazing at the ceiling. His deep voice grew wistful. "Our cellar in Romania ... it is the best in the world, some say. Vintages dating back to the 1700s. One can just summon a servant with a snap of the fingers, name one's poison—to use one of my favorite colloquialisms—and indulge."

Half disgusted and more than a little bit unsettlingly thrilled, I let him talk on, watching him fall deeper into a reverie.

"And then, of course, when two vampires marry—unite for eternity—they have each other. That is said to be the finest vintage. The purest source." Lucius grew even more introspective, more distant. "Male to female. Woman to man. Blood comingled. Could there be a stronger bond between two beings?"

A smile flitted across his lips. "Intercourse is a fleeting pleasure, indeed. Undeniably an intimate act. Not to be dismissed—or missed, for that matter. Indeed, crucial for procreation, beyond its other obvious virtues."

The smile faded. "But sharing one's
blood
with
another: exposing one's most vulnerable place, where the pulse beats just below the skin, and trusting your partner to satisfy without subduing ... It makes sex seem almost insignificant by comparison. An unequal act—male
to
female. But blood . . . blood can be shared as true equals."

He seemed to have forgotten me perched by his side. I listened to him, mesmerized. Mesmerized and . . . more.