Born at Midnight (Page 32)

"We have a half hour," he said, holding her hand.

She pul ed away, recal ing how his touch had control ed her emotions when she’d seen the snake. He’d probably saved her life, but that wasn’t the point. She didn’t like the thought of anyone trying to control her. Or manipulate her, either. "Yeah," she said, "but we stil need to see about how we’re going to get you out of giving blood."

His expression darkened. "The deal’s already made, there’s no going back. And besides, it’s not an issue."

"What if he turns you into a vampire?"

His eyes widened. "Oh, hel , you think I’m going to let him bite me? No way. It’s too risky and way too gay."

She blushed, feeling ignorant. "Then how do you plan to do it?"

"The same way you give blood at a blood drive. With a sterile needle and an IV bag."

She stood there staring at him, questions coming quicker than she could line them up to ask. "You’re going to a doctor’s office to get it done?

How wil -"

"No." He laughed. "Most vampires carry their own supplies. They’re better than most nurses at finding veins. It’s one of the first things a vampire is taught. How to get blood without kil ing the donor."

Had Della brought her own blood-draining equipment? "How do you know how vampires…?"

"Feed? I’ve done it a couple of times." His smile made her feel even more ignorant.

"You’ve given blood to a vampire before?"

He nodded. "Like I’ve been saying, it’s not a big deal."

"Who? And how did you even know vampires existed?"

"Her name’s El ie. We go to school together. And you’re forgetting that al supernaturals recognize each other."

Yes, she had forgotten the whole eyebrow wiggling thing. And for a darn good reason, too. She didn’t "read" supernaturals, which gave her a little more hope that she wasn’t one of them. Then she wondered if she had any supernaturals in her school back home. Besides Lucas for that short time.

"How many are there?" she asked, even though she was afraid to hear the answer. "How many supernaturals are there compared to humans?"

"I think the consensus puts us a little less than one percent, but growing. Why?"

"Just wondering if I went to school with any."

"You could have," he said. "But not likely. Most supernaturals go to private schools or are home-schooled. For obvious reasons."

"What reasons?" she asked.

"Species issues mostly. Most believe that they need to learn a different history. And most of them can afford it since they use their gifts to become financial y wel off."

They? Kylie noticed that Derek didn’t completely view himself as one of them, either. "So you went to a private school?"

He shook his head. "Dad bailed, remember?"

"Yeah." She sifted through her other questions. "What about the girl you know? El ie, right? She went to your school?"

"She’s a recently turned vampire," he said. "She hasn’t gone to live with her kind yet."

Kylie thought about Del a. "Do they al have to go live with their kind?"

"Not from what El ie said. But I know it isn’t easy for her to blend in with the normals."

Kylie heard the sense of caring in his voice and her curiosities took a U-turn away from Del a’s problems, away from the whole supernatural business to a more personal business.

"Are you and El ie close?" Embarrassed at how she almost sounded jealous, Kylie shook her head, but she couldn’t stop from continuing. "Duh, you gave her your blood. Of course you’re close."

He arched his brows and another one of those almost smiles tickled his lips and made his eyes brighter. "Is this your way of asking if we’re stil together?" The green twinkle in his eye said he liked her interest.

"No." At least she didn’t think it was, but oh heck, she wasn’t completely sure.

"We broke up about six months ago."

"Why?" she asked, and then just as quickly wished she could take it back.

"She met a werewolf." Resentment laced his voice.

"Not Lucas?" Kylie asked.

"No, not him."

Kylie remembered. "I didn’t think vampires and werewolves got along."

"Neither did the Hatfields and the McCoys."

A soft wind blew and a strand of her hair whipped across her face and caught between her lips. He brushed it back. The tips of his fingers whispered over her cheek, causing al sorts of tingles to run down her neck. She caught his hand, felt the tingles intensify, and then released it just as fast.

"What happened earlier?" she asked before she lost her nerve. "When you touched me."

He stuck both his hands into his jeans pockets, as if he were trying to fight his temptation to touch her again.

"I don’t know what you mean," he said, but she could tel he was lying.

She shook her head. "Don’t lie to me, Derek. When you touched me, you changed how I felt and we both know it."

He looked shocked that she’d figured that out. "I just stopped you from being afraid so you wouldn’t do something stupid and get bit."

"So when you touch someone, you can control their emotions?"

"Yeah," he said as if wasn’t a big deal.

But it was a big deal, to her anyway. How much of the whole attraction she felt for him was even real? How much of it was because he made her feel it?

Something cold and hard wrapped itself around her heart. "Did you do it before?"

"Do what before?" He looked truly confused now, or was he just faking it?

"Mess with my emotions."

He studied her. "Why are you getting angry?"

"Did you do this, Derek? Did you make me feel the way I feel about you?"

He looked insulted. "No," he said with conviction, but she wasn’t convinced.

She poked him in his chest. "So help me, Derek, if-"

He caught her hand and she flinched.

"What? Now you’re afraid of me?" He shook his head. "First you justified what you feel for me because I look like your old boyfriend. And now you think I’m messing with your emotions. Why is it so hard to think that you could just like me?"

"Because you have the power to do it, don’t you? You have the power to make me like you." She took a deep breath and continued. "Have you ever used this to convince a girl to do things she normal y wouldn’t?"

His eyes tightened. "Wow," he said in an accusing tone. "You are just looking for a reason to dislike me, aren’t you? That boyfriend of yours real y did a number on you."