Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side (37 page)

Dorin set down his cappuccino, his crinkly eyes clouding. "Big scratches?"

"I don't know. I wasn't close enough to tell. Does it matter?"

"Not really, I guess. As long as he doesn't really sink in there, you know?" Dorin curved his hand, arching two fingers like fangs, and swiped at the air. "That kind of thing—that would be bad news."

"For Lucius or for Faith?"

"Hard to say for the girl, really. I mean, of course, if he didn't suck this Faith person dry—kill her on the spot—well, she'd be undead then. Now, that's something some girls really regret if they do it on the spur of the moment. Not something to rush into. And girls who don't have a vampire lineage, like you . . . they're the ones who get all nasty, after about a hundred years. Don't like drinking the blood. Can't embrace the lifestyle. Wish they'd just married a regular human, bought a minivan and had kids. Whiners. Troublemakers. They make you wish you had a stake through the heart, just to spend a few minutes with them. Lucius might very well be sorry he indulged in a moment of passion, after a few millennia."

"So you're saying
they'd get
married if he bit her?" I hated the envy—the Biblically proportioned, sinful coveting—that consumed me. A twinge pricked my gums, and I rubbed my jaw.

"Hurts, eh?" Dorin asked, noticing.

I rubbed harder. "It's that obvious?"

"If you know the signs. But trust me, it's a good thing. If your fangs didn't ache—that's when a young vampire needs to worry."

"I know," I said. "I read the book."

"Lucius gave you a copy of
Growing Up Undead?"
Dorin grinned. "It is a classic!"

"Yes, it's very helpful," I agreed. "But about Lucius and Faith—"

"Oh, yes," Dorin said. "If Lucius did the honorable thing— as I suspect he would—-they would wed. You can't just bite an unsuspecting virgin and go your merry way. It's not done."

The ache roared to life, and my gums throbbed. "I can't believe Lucius would be linked to
her for
eternity."

Dorin shook his head, avoiding my eyes, dumping more cinnamon in his mug. "No. No, he wouldn't."

"But you just said Lucius would do the honorable thing—"

"Honor, schmonor. If Lucius ultimately does break the pact, it won't matter who he bites. Vasile won't stand for insubordination. The whole reason vampires have survived so long is harsh justice. Something like breaking a treaty between clans—that's grounds for immediate destruction."

Jealousy was banished by raw fear. "What?"

"Destruction. With a capital D."

I'd known they would punish him, and severely. Even Lucius had been afraid of what they'd do. But I hadn't really thought they would
destroy
him. "But he's their prince . . ."

"And princes are expendable. It's not like they're
kings yet."

My voice seemed stuck in my throat. "How much time will Vasile give him to obey?"

"He's already hanging by a thread," Dorin admitted. "Vasile is determined to make Lucius obey, but he won't wait forever." My uncle mimicked jabbing his chest with what I assumed was a stake, then lighting a match. "And then . . . poof."

The steamy, chicory-scented air in the coffee shop suddenly seemed raw and icy. "Is that really how it happens? With a stake?"

"That is, indeed, the surest way." Dorin confirmed Lucius's earlier assertion. "Time tested."

The image of Lucius being stabbed through the heart—of Vasile, giving a quick upward thrust just below the ribs that had been broken too often—flashed through my mind, and I swore, it was almost like I could feel the sharp wood piercing my own flesh. I actually clutched my chest. Had my parents done the same, in their final moments?

"What will happen to Lucius then?" I said, willing the horrible images out of my brain.

"What do you mean?"

"Like ... his soul."

"Oh, that. His soul belongs to the clan. It's not the typical heaven-hell stuff, like you're used to. A vampire's soul is a different thing. The clan giveth, and the clan taketh away. Well, sometimes angry mobs taketh away." Dorin shrugged. "We'd just go to hell, anyway. Might as well just be gone."

The thought of a universe without Lucius—Lucius just
not existing
—was too much to bear. And yet I felt helpless. "He still refuses to honor the pact, even though I told him that I love him. That I want to marry him."

Dorin brightened. "You
really do
love him, don't you? You can admit it to me."

"Yes, I do," I said.

"Then don't let him bite Faith Crosse, even if it means sticking by his side twenty-four hours a day," Dorin advised, sipping his cappuccino. "Because the second he bites her, the clock will strike midnight for Lucius Vladescu. I can guarantee you that."

Lucius destroyed. A universe without him. I couldn't imagine it. And yet I had no idea how to prevent it, either.

All that night I tossed and turned in bed, remembering how I'd felt when I'd thought Lucius had died. That cold wind, tearing through my hollow chest—ripping me open like a stake.

If he didn't honor the pact, I feared it wouldn't just destroy him. It would destroy me, too.

Chapter
49

"OH, DAMMIT, I muttered, watching out my window as Lucius and Faith Crosse crept across the yard under cover of darkness, headed toward his old apartment. I hated spying on him, but I didn't know what else to do. I had to keep him from biting Faith. And so I waited just a few minutes and followed them.

"Hey, you guys," I said, barging in without knocking. "What are you up to?"

As if I can't tell.

Faith practically leapt away from Lucius, smoothing at her hair, tugging at her disheveled shirt. "God, Jenn. Don't you knock?
Some
people have sex lives."

Lucius didn't make any effort to disentangle himself. He just sat there on the bed, keeping his arm loosely around Faith's waist, idly stroking her hip. "What do you want, Jess?" His voice was low, menacing.

"Maybe she wants her pots and pans," Faith smirked. "You know, to do her hair."

"I can't smell the hare anymore," I shot back. "The stench of
peroxide
is so strong. You'd better ease up on the bleach, Faith, or you'll wind up bald."

"I could do worse." She sniffed, staring pointedly at my head. "Better bald than a Brillo head."

"Better a Brillo head than a bitch."

I don't think anyone had ever spoken to Faith Crosse like that. I could hardly believe I'd done it. But damn, it felt good.

Faith sat in stunned silence, curled up against Lucius, eyes wide. Then she pulled away from him, jabbing her finger at his chest. "Did you hear what she just said to me, Luc? Are you going to let her call me a bitch?"

Lucius laughed, a mirthless sound, and drew her closer. "Oh, Faith. Accept the compliment."

She shoved his chest. "Watch it, Luc."

Lucius ignored the warning, addressing me. "I repeat: What do you want, Jessica?"

"I need some help with Belle in the barn," I lied. "I think she's favoring a leg, but I want your opinion. You know horses better than me."

"Call a veterinarian," Lucius said. "I'm no horse healer."

"Come on, Lucius," I urged. "It will just take a minute."
Anything to get you away from Faith .
. .

"It is nearly ten o'clock," Lucius noted. "The horse will live until morning. And we are rather preoccupied here." His face was obscured by the gloom in the room, but I thought I caught a flash of fangs.

"Lucius, be reasonable," I urged, abandoning my story about Belle.

"I am so done with the pointless banter," Faith said, sliding out of Lucius's embrace. "Later, Luc."

"Don't go," Lucius said, pulling her back.

But Faith tore her wrist away. "It's getting kind of late anyway, Lucius. And my parents are going to kill me if I break curfew again." She snatched her red leather purse off the floor and gave Lucius a peck on the lips. "Bye."

As she flounced by me, I grabbed her by the arm. "The name
is Jess,
by the way. Remember it next time."

Faith twisted out of my grasp with a sneer. "Oh, I will. And you'll be sorry I do."

She left the door hanging open, and I slammed it as she marched down the stairs.

"What do you see in her?" I demanded of Lucius. My voice was petulant, too angry, but I couldn't control myself. "She's the most evil person I've ever known."

"You know worse, Jessica. Trust me." Lucius stood, crossing his arms. "Why are you really here?"

"To save you, you idiot," I said. "You are going to bite Faith! You're totally out of control!"

Lucius groaned. A groan that spiked to a growl. He balled his fists and ground them against his forehead. "Jessica—do not meddle in this."

"Even if you don't care about me, or yourself, or the pact, have you thought about what will happen to Faith if you two get carried away? You're messing around with her soul, too. I might hate her, but what you're doing—it's not right."

Lucius scoffed. "Faith's soul. Faith is already as corrupt a soul as you can imagine. Don't worry about Faith. She lies, cheats, steals, and would probably kill to get what she wants. I've seen into Faith's soul, and it's just as dark as mine. That's why we're so good together. We are one and the same."

But they weren't one and the same. I knew it. "You can't base your life on a novel," I said.

"What are you talking about?"

"She's not Catherine, and you're not Heathcliff. You don't have to destroy each other."

"You read too much into a small drama. A high school diversion," Lucius said.

"You don't think it's a diversion. I know you, Lucius."

"You do not know me!"

The rafters fairly shook as Lucius really raised his voice, for the first time I could recall. The sound was fearsome.

But I would not back down. "I do know you. You are an honorable vampire. You are
royally.
And Faith is not your equal," I shot back. "She's not even a vampire."

"Oh, neither are you." He drew closer and clutched a fistful of my curls. "You've changed your hair, you've changed your clothes, you've read the guide, but you don't know anything about being a vampire. You saw my uncles. Are you ready for that world?"