Vampire Crush (Page 17)
Vampire Crush(17)
Author: A.M. Robinson
"Close?" Vlad gives a short, strangled laugh. "Hardly. At this point we are close to starting over."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Vlad says darkly, "I chose incorrectly. It’s not Caroline."
A weighty silence surrounds the Hummer on all sides. Caroline’s not what? The girl of his dreams? America’s Next Top Mob Member?
"Not her?" Neville says, and unlike Vlad, his voice is downright chipper. "Well, then perhaps this is the perfect time to rethink what we’re doing here. I, for one, think that you might be better off forgetting the Danae and staying here. People seem to rather like you," he says, "and there are so many things to do. Do you know that there is a club devoted entirely to the creation of little walking machines that fight one another? Amazing. I’m almost tempted to – "
A growl splits the air. The car tips from the force of someone being slammed against it, and the movement causes the passenger-side door to creak open. If anyone walks around to the other side, they will see me. I tuck my feet as close to my body as possible and bite my tongue to stay silent.
"I apologize if I gave the impression that this is a group decision," Vlad says with threatening precision. "We are not here to join organizations or socialize with lonely girls in the washroom. If I find that you are doing so, you will be out. And I would like to see you all take care of yourself, I really – "
He stops sharply when the car starts to ding, warning that there is an open door. Oh God. Blood rushes into my ears, thrumming so loudly that for second I don’t hear anything. I look up, but all I can see is the swirl of Neville’s reddish hair pressed against the window.
"What is that?" Vlad asks.
"It is the Humdinger. Violet left the door ajar again," Neville says. The car rocks as he pushes away from Vlad and walks around the back. I’m trying to think of excuses, but my mind goes blank as he pulls open the door enough to shut it. I can see his arm up to the elbow, the tattoo on his forearm standing out in stark relief to his pale skin. If he moves forward three more inches, I’m done for.
"Oh, I do not care about the Danae, or the girl, or this horrible place!" says a tremulous voice that I recognize as Violet’s. I look at Neville’s tattoo, the central "D" staring at me like an ominous eye. "D." Danae. It’s a possibility. Now I just have to get out of here.
"I am sorry that I left the door open," Violet continues, "but it has been such a horrific day and I would very much like to go home."
Neville shuts the door without looking inside. "Then let’s go."
There’s a lull, and then the fading crunch of gravel as they walk away.
"Where were we?" Vlad says smoothly when we can no longer hear anything. "Ah yes, into the woods."
The foliage crashes as several people plunge into the trees, followed by the snapping of twigs. I wait for all sounds to cease before screwing up enough courage to sit up and check that the coast is clear. When it is, I scramble out of the car and gulp down the fresh air. Leaning against the bumper of my Jeep, I try to process what I’ve overheard. A quick check of my watch tells me that it’s 6:05. James is late, and to be completely honest, I’m a little iffy now about giving him a ride home. I should peel out of here now, grateful that I’ve survived one close call.
I should.
Before I have time to second-guess myself, I step into the brush. Midwestern woods are many things, but scary is not one of them – they’re about as intimidating as your grandmother’s afghan. The predominance of pine trees gives them a nice scent, and even though that means you come out able to freshen a car, it’s nice not to worry about big, slavering animals that want to chew on your face. That’s why I’m caught off guard by the sudden chill that eclipses me the second I move out of the evening sun. The trees are top heavy enough to smother most of the evening light, casting their thick trunks into gloom.
Voices echo in front of me. "Ingrate" cuts through the murmur, and I stop – individual words mean that I’m too close. We walk this way until the pale orange light shining out of the leaves in front of me suggests that they’ve reached the central clearing. I stretch my ears as far as they will go. When it sounds like Vlad is no longer moving, I crouch behind the largest bush I can find, located about ten feet to the left of the makeshift trail. Trying not to make any noise, I peer through the branches.
Vlad is pacing back and forth, pausing every so often to kick at rocks and twigs on the ground. "Can you believe him?" he seethes. "He said that he wanted to help, and then what do I hear today? Maybe I should forget about the Danae and stay here because people like me, as if that is so difficult to believe."
"I told you from the beginning that I thought he was weird," Marisabel says from where she’s stretched across a pitted picnic table.
"And I told you it was fine!" Vlad snaps.
Marisabel just shrugs, rolling on her back to stare up at an open copy of Twilight. Her long brown hair cascades over the edge. It sways as she shakes her head back and forth.
"This is not right at all," she says. "Edward is dreamy, though. Maybe you could get some tips."
"Oh, could I?" Vlad asks, playful, before stalking into view and twisting the book out of her hands. Pages flapping, it sails over her head and crashes into the trees behind her.
Marisabel pushes herself up and frowns at the spot where it disappeared. "Hey! That was Jennifer Pierson’s."
Vlad dips into a mocking bow. "Do offer her my condolences. Tell her I will provide her with a new one should we ever achieve our main objective," he says and then starts to pace. "Can you believe them? Neville does nothing but attach himself to any organization that will have him, and Violet . . . yesterday Violet asked if I wanted to participate in a ‘quiz’ that will tell me what my ‘best fall look’ is," he says. "What does that even mean?"
"Mine is eggplant," Marisabel offers absently. "And scarves."
"So what if I need a little real refreshment?" Vlad continues. "It’s the least I deserve after everything I’ve done to make this work. Do you know how difficult it was to get everyone registered? How much power it took out of me?" he insists. "Not to mention the constant questions from the attendance office. Despite the vacant expressions on their faces, the adults here are not nearly as dull as I would like. Today one of the old crones in the office started asking questions. I had to stare into her shriveled eyes for five minutes before she went back to her work." He stops to kick a clod of dirt, hard enough that it shatters against a tree. "I felt drained all day. It took all of my willpower not to tear into that girl in English."