Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side (24 page)

I watched Jake spinning around on the mat, grunting. "Can you keep a secret, Mindy?"

"Hey, we've been friends since preschool," Mindy said. "Have I ever spilled your secrets?"

"No. Never." Mindy was a lot of things—flighty, impulsive, sex-obsessed—but she was never disloyal.

"So? Talk."

"I'm not sure if Jake and I are a great match."

Mindy's eyes, rimmed by a thick layer of Cover Girl charcoal eyeliner, widened. "What? I thought you really liked him!"

"He's . . . nice," I said, flinching a little at my use of Lu-cius's despised adjective. "But I don't know if there's a real spark there. Not like I thought there would be."

"Hmm. Well, Jake is no Lukey," Mindy concurred, her gaze wandering back over to the basketball court. "I told you that from the beginning."

"Yes, they are very different," I agreed. If only she knew how different. . . maybe she wouldn't be so keen on her Lukey. Mindy had gotten queasy when we'd dissected worms in sixth grade. She wasn't a blood-drinking-type girl. "Not that I'd be dropping Jake for Lucius," I added. "I'm just saying that I'm not sure about Jake and me."

"And I'm saying you should finally come to your senses and choose Lucius, before he gets sick of chasing you," Mindy observed. "Face it, Jess. Lucius has charisma," she added, nodding toward the cheerleaders. "Look at the way even Faith is staring at him. Lukey just draws your attention."

Sure enough, when I looked across the gym, Faith Crosse was climbing high atop a pyramid of cheerleaders—walking all over people, as usual—but her face was turned toward the basketball court, where Lucius was deep in conference with his coach. The way Lucius stood, hands on narrow hips, towering over Coach Ferrin, it looked like the starting center was the one in charge. I glanced back at Faith. She was atop her people pile but still watching the discussion at midcourt.

"By the way," Mindy interrupted my thoughts. "You look really good today. Is that a new outfit?"

I tore my gaze away from Lucius and Faith and smoothed my crinkled skirt over my knees. "Yeah, do you like it?"

"Definitely. Purple is a good color on you. And the V-neck— very sexy."

"Too sexy?"

"No. Just right. You should wear stuff like that more often. You look . . . exotic. Like a gypsy or something." She stared at my head. "And did you do something to your hair?"

I rumpled my curls. "I used this 'curl polisher,' instead of trying to flatten my hair down every day. I guess I'm tired of fighting nature."

"Looks great." Mindy nodded, assessing me. "Shiny. And different from what everybody else is doing. Kind of cool."

A sharp cry rang out, and I looked to its source just in time to see Faith Crosse topple toward the ground, taking down the entire pyramid. Her squad fell one by one like shrieking dominoes beneath her.

Pretty much everyone on the gym floor ran over to gawk or help. And the first person at the scene of the accident, extending his hand to help Faith to her feet, was none other than Lucius Vladescu.

One by one, the other cheerleaders scrambled up and checked themselves for injuries. Although like everyone else, Faith seemed to be okay, Lucius held her arm and walked her toward the locker room, where they paused, talking.

"Well, well, well." Mindy observed. "If you
are
dumping Jakey for Lukey, you'd better act fast, because it looks like you just might have competition. Look at her—getting him to play white knight to her damsel in distress!"

I nearly laughed at that. For one thing, Faith had been with football player Ethan Strausser for as long as anybody could remember. More importantly, Lucius would never abandon me for another girl, no matter how skinny her butt looked in her flippy cheerleader skirt. He liked women with curves. And he was pledged to me.

But as I watched, Faith and Lucius laughed loudly, as they had in my bedroom. Then she gave him a flirtatious little shove, and he grinned down at her, looking less burdened somehow than he had in the past. More relaxed in his posture. More . . . free.

"Yup." Mindy chuckled. "If you want Lukey, Id get a move on. Faith's drooling over him like he's a Prada bag that somehow turned up in a sale bin at Wal-Mart. Discount priced and ready to move—right onto her arm."

"No, that's crazy," I protested.

But then again, I'd thought vampires were a crazy concept just a week or so ago.

What did Lucius mean when he said, "late in the game"?

As I watched Lucius and Faith talking, joking together, an unfamiliar sensation like hot pins—jealousy—started to prick at my heart. Another feeling welled inside me, too. A possessive feeling. A strong, proprietary sense that bordered on anger. A sense of ownership. Of my
right to
Lucius.

My fingers curled around the bleacher seat, squeezing.

And suddenly, for the first time ever, I got thirsty.

Really, really thirsty.

For something I'd never craved before. Just like my vampire sex guide had warned me.

Chapter
29

"I'M TOTALLY BEAT." Mike Danneker yawned, gathering up his books and snapping his laptop's screen shut. "I can't take any more math."

"Just a few more problems," I urged him, opening one of my more challenging calculus texts. "We could do these sample word problems ..."

"No way," Mike said. "And you should go home, too, Jess. You're gonna burn out, studying this hard. The competition is still a few weeks away."

"Which is exactly why we need to practice."

Mike stood, shouldering his laptop case. "See you, Jess. Get some rest."

He strolled off through the aisles, leaving me alone deep in the heart of Woodrow Wilson's library. I turned a page in my notebook, trying to focus. Maybe I
was
tired: The whole idea of numbers seemed difficult. I was having a hard time training my mind on the problems. Maybe because I couldn't stop thinking about how I'd just recently been in the gym, thirsting for blood.

As I stared at my book, my mind once again drifting far away from limits, derivatives, and integrals, I heard voices and footsteps in the maze of stacks.

"We should just buy papers off the Internet."

Frank Dormand.

"No way. Three guys got caught last year, and two of them lost their football scholarships. They missed a whole year of college ball."

Ethan Strausser.

"So what, we're supposed to find a bunch of books on the League of Nations?" Dormand asked. "Like I give a shit?"

I heard volumes being pulled off shelves.

"Why don't you just get Faith to write 'em for us?" Dormand added. "She's smart."

My ears pricked at Faith's name.

"She's been a total bitch lately," Ethan said. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with her."

"She's hanging out with
Vladescu,"
Frank said, spitting out Lucius's name like it was a gnat that had flown into his mouth. "He's probably rubbing off on her, the bastard."

How much are Lucius and Faith hanging out? How often? And what are they doing?
Possessiveness and jealousy rippled through me again. I tried to remember: When was the last time Lucius had mentioned the pact? Courtship? It struck me that I wasn't really sure.
How can I not be sure?

"That freak thinks he owns the damn school because he can make a few shots from center court," Ethan groused.

"There's something wrong with that guy," Dormand noted. "He's not normal."

I sat frozen in my seat, intent upon my eavesdropping. Frank and Ethan couldn't really
know
anything about Lucius, but it bothered me to think that two of the school's biggest morons were starting to discuss the fact that Lucius was different. I wasn't sure
why
it bothered me—two stupid goons certainly couldn't be a threat to someone as self-possessed and physically strong as Lucius—but I was unnerved a little.

"You're just pissed because he smacked you down in front of everybody, banging your thick head on a locker," Ethan noted.

"Yeah. And if he'd just about strangled you, you'd still be pissed, too." Dormand paused. "I'm telling you. There's something different about him. When he grabbed me ... I don't know ... it felt weird."

"What, did you get hot for him?" Ethan joked. "What the hell do you mean, it felt
weird?"

I expected a macho jerk like Dormand to go berserk over what Ethan was implying. For once, though, Frank seemed almost thoughtful. "Shut up, man," he said. "You didn't feel it."

I heard the sound of books being slammed back onto the shelves. "Let's get the hell out of here," Ethan said. "I'll get somebody else to write the paper."

As they walked away, I heard Dormand add, "Vladescu— someday that guy's gonna get what he deserves. He is not
right.
And one of these days, I'll put my finger on it. . ."

Dormand's voice trailed off as they left the library.

I stared into space, trying to tell myself that the vague unease I felt was totally unjustified. But for some reason, I didn't really believe that. Frank Dormand was a relentless bully, as surely as Lucius was a vampire. I'd been the object of Frank's taunting for as long as I could remember. I knew how he could latch on to a target, refusing to let go. . ..

What if Frank starts looking into Lucius's life? His past? What he is? Can Dormand find out anything?

No.

The notion was almost silly. Frank Dormand couldn't even find a book on the League of Nations in a high school library. He'd never figure out that Lucius was a vampire. Never in a million years.

And even if he did, what was the worst that could happen? Lebanon County wasn't Romania. It was a civilized place. People didn't form mobs and murder their neighbors with stakes, for god's sake. The idea was laughable. Lucius would be fine.

So why didn't I feel better as I closed my books, giving up on math—slamming the cover on logic and reason—for the night?

Chapter 30

DEAR VASILE,

December in Lebanon County, Pennsylvania, would quite "blow your mind," to use the expression I have determined to be my favorite of all those I've acquired during my extended stay. Is it a good thing to have one's mind "blown"?
Or
a bad thing? Even in context, it is sometimes difficult to tell
—
although
I
quite enjoy trying to conjure the visual imagery. Heads exploding. Exposed brains on tables, caressed by the breeze from electric fans. That sort of thing.