Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side (32 page)

"No, Jessica. That is not entirely true. Not lately." Lucius rose and began pacing my small room, talking softly, almost to himself. "You have no idea what it was like, being raised in solitude. Being raised for a purpose. Your parents, Jessica, they have no
agenda
for you. You are not their
tool.
You simply exist to be loved by them. Do you know how foreign that is to me?"

I watched him pace, not sure what to say. Not wanting to interrupt him.

He paused and smiled at me, a sad smile. "I came here and suddenly, there was a whole new world. Our classmates. They're allowed to be so . . . so frivolous."

"You hate frivolity."

"But frivolity is so easy." The smile faded. "I used to think American teenagers so ridiculously self-absorbed. But it's addictive, for lack of a better word. I find myself drawn to your world, if only for a brief time. It is like a fleeting holiday to be among you. The first holiday of my life. If one discounts the pressures inherent in fulfilling the pact, there are no expectations for me, beyond making a three-point shot just before the buzzer."

"Lucius, what are you trying to say?"

He sank back down on the bed. "I find that I am reluctant to give all of that up quite yet."

"Give all of what up?"

"The dances with the cheap crepe paper. The jeans. The basketball. Being with a young woman without the weight of generations upon my shoulders, watching ..."

"Faith. You don't want to give up Faith."

He reared back. "For a girl who blocked my every attempt at courting, you are suddenly rather proprietary."

"You're the one who kept talking about how important it was for us to get
married,
for crying out loud."

Lucius raked his fingers through his ebony hair. "If I had bitten you tonight. . . there would have been no turning back. You know that, don't you? Eternity. Those are the stakes when we are together. Eternity. Are you ready for that? And Jessica, a partnership with me . . . that is something you should not desire. Eternity may come more quickly than you anticipated if you are joined to me."

"I don't understand."

He took my hand, lacing our fingers together. "And that, Jessica Packwood, is precisely why I have set you free."

"What?"

"I have dissolved the pact."

"For Faith," I repeated, pulling my hand away. I hated the jealousy that tore at me like a physical force. "You want to bite Faith. That's what this is all about."

Lucius shook his head. "No. I would not bite Faith. Although I am not sure if I am reluctant to foist vampiredom on Faith—or to unleash Faith upon vampiredom."

I didn't believe him. I knew he wanted Faith. "Lucius, under the pact, you have to bite
me.
We're pledged to each other. If you don't, you violate the treaty, and the war will start..."

"I'm trying to tell you, Jessica. The pact is no longer in effect."

There was a finality in his voice that frightened me, and my jealousy was replaced by an even sicker, stronger trepidation. "What exactly did you do, Lucius?"

"I have written to the Elders. I have advised them that I will not participate in this ridiculous game anymore."

"You what?" It came out almost as a shout. "You what?" I repeated more softly.

There was a flicker of fear, but also determination, in Lu-cius's eyes. "I have written to my uncle Vasile. I have called off the entire affair."

"I thought you couldn't do that."

"And yet I did it."

My trepidation intensified to dread, which prickled up the back of my neck. The last thing I'd ever expected to see on Lu-cius's face was fear, even the smallest hint, and I knew he was in deep, deep trouble. "What will happen?"

"I don't know," Lucius admitted. "But you will be safe. You must not worry. I am the one who made the decision. They will not harm you." He took my hand again, and I allowed him to re-entangle our fingers. "If it costs me my existence, Antanasia, you will be safe. I owe you that much, for reasons you will never need to know or understand."

Real terror clutched at me, and I gripped his fingers. "What is going to happen, Lucius?"

"That's not your concern."

"Lucius ..." I thought of the terrible scar on his arm. Of his words.
"Of course they hit me. Time and again. They were making a warrior. . .
."
"Will they punish you?"

He laughed harshly. "Oh, Antanasia. Punishment is hardly the word for what I face at the hands of the Elders."

"We could try to reason with them . . .," I said, knowing I was grasping futilely at straws.

Lucius smiled at me, and there was a tenderness in it. "You have a kind heart, and you are blessed with a sometimes dangerous naivete. But the world is full of creatures like my poor, doomed Hell's Belle. And me. Creatures who've seen monstrous things and become monsters themselves. Creatures who perhaps
should be
put down."

"Stop it, Lucius," I demanded. "Stop talking like that!"

"It is true, Antanasia. You can't even conceive of the things in
my
dreams and schemes and imaginings . . ."

I swallowed hard. "Is that what you meant on Halloween when you said you could show me 'not-nice things'?"

Lucius's fingers tightened around mine. "Oh, no, Antanasia. Not violence against you. No matter what you believe of me—what you recall of me in the future—please believe that in the end, I would not—could not—have hurt you. Perhaps there was a time before I knew you, if you had stood in my path to power . . . but not now." He hesitated and looked away, and I heard him mutter, "God, I hope not. . ."

"It's okay, Lucius," I soothed him. "I know you wouldn't hurt me." Still, his admission unnerved me.
Was there a time when he could have hurt me? Why did he add that caveat at the end. . . ?

But Lucius wasn't listening to me. He was staring at the pink walls he so hated. "For my family—for my children—it could have been different. I really have seen a new way here, for all the times I mock this place and its conventions."

"What if you just stayed here?" I suggested, growing suddenly hopeful. "You could just live like a regular person . . ."

As soon as I blurted the words, I realized how foolish they sounded. Still, Lucius surprised me by saying, "Perhaps for a few more weeks, if I am fortunate."

"Or longer?"

"No. Not longer. I know where I belong, and it would eventually pull me back." Lucius disentangled our fingers, standing. "The important thing is, you know that you are liberated from the pact. Absolved. You are free to . . . well..." A touch of his mocking laughter crept back into his voice. "Free to do whatever it is that you intend to do with your life. College. Some sort of split-level house in the suburbs. Little fair-haired, agriculturally inclined children running around in the yard. Your fate is your own. I promise you that."

"What if I don't want those things anymore?"

"Trust me, Antanasia—
Jessica
—someday you will look back upon these few months as nothing more than a strange dream. A potential nightmare. And you will be very, very happy that it never came true."

Lucius kissed the top of my head, then, and I knew that the weight of our shared destiny would never be lifted from his shoulders. He could play at being a normal teenager, but it was just a short reprieve. Lucius Vladescu's fate was tied up in scrolls and bound in genealogies and meted out with fists or worse. And I shuddered for him.

I heard his footsteps move toward the door in the darkness, but he paused before leaving. "You really were the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen tonight," he said softly. "When I danced with you .. . and the sight of you leaving me, head held high, not looking back, as the crowd parted before you ... No matter where you live or whom you choose to wed, Antanasia, you will always be royalty. And I will always recall the image of you this evening, just as I will always remember the way you wept for me as I lay broken downstairs. Those are two gifts you have given me, and I will carry them with me, for as long as I am able."

Lucius shut the door behind himself, then, and in spite of the sweetness and warmth of his words, I shivered in the darkness.

Chapter
42

IT TOOK LESS THAN a week for all hell to break loose after Lucius's letter made its way to the countryside outside of Sighisoara, Romania.

In the meantime, Lucius sucked deeply on typical American teenage life like it was a rich, red vein. He played hours and hours of pickup basketball, skipped school, and threw a party in his garage apartment that ended in a raid by the cops and a threat from my parents to deport him on the next flight to Bucharest. Faith was constantly clamped to his side like they'd been super-glued at the hip.

And then Lucius, Mom, Dad, and I were all summoned to a meeting of the Elders, to be held in Lebanon County. They were all deigning to meet here, so serious was the crisis. There was no choice but to attend. At least, it didn't seem like there was a choice.

"I can't believe they are meeting in a steak house," my mother complained, reluctantly entering the Western Sizzlin' on New Year's Eve at the appointed time. "It's like a slap in the face. They know we're vegans."

"It's a power play," Dad agreed.

"Please, just go along with it," I begged. I sensed that things were going to be bad enough without Mom and Dad worrying about the menu. "They have a salad bar."

"Sulfites." My father sniffed. "Preservatives."

Sometimes Dad missed the big picture.

"We're here for a meeting," Mom told the hostess.

"With a bunch of older .. . men," I added. "They said they reserved a room."

Fear as raw as the steak in one of their freezers crossed the hostess's face, but she managed a smile as she located three menus. "Come this way, please."

"Oh, shit." I couldn't help saying it as we entered the room.

My mom clutched my hand. "It's all right, Jessica."

But it didn't look "all right" at all.

For in the middle of a paneled chamber merrily festooned with cardboard cutouts of Santa Claus and elves and reindeer with glowing noses, thirteen of the most funereal old guys I'd ever seen were hovering over a circular table, stabbing at a massive platter loaded down with bloody, barely seared steaks. They were slapping bright red cow flesh onto their plates and not eating the meat. Just. .. slurping. At the juice. The blood that seeped out. Although the heat was cranked in that restaurant, the air was cold with their presence. And the smell of the blood ... it prickled at my nostrils, seeped in through my pores, tickled my stomach.

My parents clutched their own stomachs, and my dad started gagging a little into his fist.

The oldest, scariest vampire glanced up from his feast reluctantly. He gestured to three empty chairs. "Please, sit. And forgive us for starting without you. We are famished from the journey."