Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side (8 page)

"A castle?" Nobody lives in castles except in Disney movies. "And you've seen this 'castle'?"

"Only the exterior, which was imposing enough," Mom said. "We weren't allowed inside. The Vladescus were not the most accessible of vampires ..." It seemed as if she was going to expand on that but changed her mind. "The Dragomirs were more welcoming."

We were veering too close to a discussion of my birth parents. "What did it look like? The castle?"

Mom smiled. "This is the first time I've sensed that you're intrigued by anything related to Lucius."

I rinsed some knives. "Just by his house."

Mom tossed the towel over her shoulder and leaned against the counter. "Not by Lucius? Even a little bit?"

I recognized the subtle suggestion in her voice. "Mom! No."

"Jessica . .. you must admit, Lucius is a physically attractive young man, and he's clearly interested in you. It would only be natural if you evinced
some
interest in return. It wouldn't be anything to be ashamed of."

Dunking a casserole dish, I scrubbed at some lentils that had fused to the sides during baking. "He thinks he's a vampire, Mom."

"That doesn't change the fact that Lucius Vladescu is a charming, powerful, wealthy, good-looking boy."

I recalled the feel of Lucius's strong hand brushing against my cheek the night we'd met. That fluttery feeling in the pit of my stomach. And the fact that he had actually voiced his intention to bite my neck. "Have you ever seen me look at Lucius with anything but disgust? Seriously?"

Mom smiled. "You'd be surprised how often disgust turns to lust." There was a knowing look in her eyes. As if she had just read my mind as I'd recalled Lucius touching my face.

I blushed. "That sounds like alchemy. Which is about as real as vampires."

"Oh, Jessica." Mom sighed. "What is love if not a form of alchemy? There are forces in this universe that we just can't explain."

Yes. Forces like the time-twisting gravity of a black hole. And the endless string of pi zooming out across the universe. Those were
true
forces and realities. Mysterious, sure. But also measurable and perhaps understandable if we applied math and science and physics. Why couldn't my parents ever get that? Why did they have to look at the world and see magic and the supernatural where I saw numbers and elements?

"I don't like Lucius, Mom, so you can just forget about alchemy, disgust, and especially lust," I promised, rinsing the casserole dish.

Mom didn't seem convinced as she dried the last of our dishes. "Well, if your feelings should change, you can talk to me. I get the sense that Lucius is a very experienced young man. I wouldn't want you to get in over your head . . ."

"Is Jessica 'in over her head,' somehow? Can I be of assistance?"

Mom and I both turned to see Lucius standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
How long had he been there? How much had he heard? "Disgust turns to lust"?

If Mom was embarrassed to be caught talking about Lucius behind his back, it didn't show on her face. "Jess will be fine, Lucius. But thank you for asking. What brings you in from the garage?"

"A craving for that delicious carob 'tofu ice cream' you keep in the freezer," Lucius said. He moved to the fridge and swung open the top door. "Would either of you care to join me?"

"Actually, I'm headed to the barn to see some kittens your father found," Mom said to me. "I suppose there's room for one more litter, but I like to put up token resistance. If I encourage him too much, we'll be overrun." She patted our exchange student's shoulder on her way out of the kitchen. "Good night, Lucius."

"Have a pleasant evening, Dr. Packwood." Lucius set the mock ice cream on the counter and took two bowls from the cupboard, holding them up. "Jessica? Can I tempt you?"

"Thanks, but I'm sort of avoiding dessert."

"Why?" Lucius seemed genuinely puzzled. "I know carob isn't the most enticing flavor, but dessert is one of life's greatest pleasures, don't you think? I rarely forgo it—aside from the time your father attempted that eggless, creamless pumpkin pie. It hardly seemed worth the effort of lifting the fork to one's mouth."

I pulled the plug on the sink, releasing the now-cold dishwater. "Yeah, well, you're not fat. You can eat dessert."

When I looked up from the swirling suds, Lucius was frowning at me. Staring me up and down.

"What?" I glanced down at my tank top and shorts. "Is there something on me?"

"Surely you don't think you're
overweight,
Jessica?" he said, disbelief in his eyes. "You don't believe that
imbecile
who
taunted you in the cafeteria ... I knew I should have silenced him—"

"This has nothing to do with Dormand—who is my problem, not yours," I said. "I just need to lose a pound or two, that's all. So calm down."

Lucius pried open the container, shaking his head. "American women. Why do you all want to be nearly invisible? Why not have a
physical presence
in the world? Women should have
curves,
not angles. Not points." With the mock shudder he usually reserved for Dad's cooking, he added, "American women are too
pointy.
All jutting hip bones and shoulder blades."

"It's fashionable to be thin," I advised him. "It looks good."

"One should never confuse fashionable with beautiful," Lucius corrected. "Trust me, men don't care what fashion magazines say. They don't think skeletal women look 'good.' The great majority of men prefer curves." He dug a spoon into the frozen tofu and advanced toward me, holding it out, in my face. "Eat. Be happy to have curves. A
presence."

I smiled slightly, but still pushed his hand away. I fully intended to lose five pounds. "No, thanks."

Lucius gave an exasperated sigh and jabbed the spoon back into the container. "Antanasia, embrace who you are. A woman who wields the power you will enjoy doesn't need to follow fashion—or be swayed by the malicious ridicule of inferiors."

"Don't start with that royalty crap again," I begged, slapping the dishrag into the sink. Any small warmth I'd felt toward Lucius vanished. I felt angry, suddenly. "And don't call me by that name!"

"Oh, Jessica. I didn't mean to upset you," he said, setting the container on the counter. His voice softened. "I was only trying to—"

"I know what you're trying to do," I said. "You try every day."

We had squared off, facing each other. Lucius started to reach out to me, then apparently thought the better of it. His hand fell to his side.

"Look, we need to have a serious talk," I said. "About this whole 'pact' thing. This whole courtship.'"

Lucius paused, considering this. And then, to my surprise, he agreed. "Yes. I suppose we should."

"Now."

"No," he said, reaching for the fake ice cream again. "Tomorrow night. In my apartment. I have something to show you.

"What?"

"I prefer surprises. Another of life's greatest pleasures. Most of the time. Well, some of the time."

I didn't like the sound of a surprise. I'd had enough surprises lately. But I agreed anyhow. I didn't care if Lucius presented me with the deed to his castle, a herd of sheep—or whatever they used for dowries in Romania—and a diamond ring. I was going to persuade him once and for all that our "engagement" was off.

"I'll see you tomorrow night," I said, wiping down the countertop. "And wash out your dish when you're done."

"Good night, Jessica."

I knew I'd find that bowl in the sink at breakfast.

--------------------------------------

Later that night I drifted off to sleep thinking about my mom's assertion that disgust could turn to lust. Surely that didn't happen, did it? Nobody believed in alchemy anymore. You couldn't create gold from rocks or lead.

But as I slept, I had a dream about Lucius. We were standing in my parents' kitchen, and he held that spoon up to my face. Only it wasn't full of frozen tofu anymore. It was smothered with the richest, most decadent chocolate sauce imaginable.

"Eat it," Lucius urged, lightly pressing the spoon against my lips. "Chocolate is one of life's greatest pleasures." His black eyes gleamed.
"One
of them, at least."

I wanted to protest.
I'm too fat. . . too fat. . . .
But he kept holding out that spoon, and the chocolate, starting to drip, was too tempting for any mortal to resist, and in the end, I ate it all. It was like silk on my tongue. I swore I could taste it in my sleep. I clasped and clung to Lucius's hand, steadying it and closing my eyes as I finished the last of the imagined sweet elixir. When I was done, and I opened my eyes again, the spoon had disappeared, as things do in dreams, and it was just me and Lucius, my fingers entwined in his, my soft chest—my curves—pressed against his hard frame.

He smiled at me, revealing those amazing, surreally white teeth. "You didn't regret that, did you?" he asked, and started to nuzzle my neck. My throat. "It was perfect, wasn't it?" he whispered in my ear. Then Lucius wrapped his powerful arms completely around me, embracing me, engulfing me . . .

And I woke up, flat on my back.

It was dawn, and the sunlight was streaming in my windows. I was breathing hard.
Wow.

I rolled to my side, curling up, and was reclaiming reality when the sunlight glinted off something shiny on the floor near my closed door. A silver bookmark, poking out of a book. A thin volume.

The book hadn't been there when I'd gone to sleep. Someone had obviously slipped it under the door.

Crawling out from under the covers, I picked it up, turning it over to read the title:
Growing Up Undead: A Teen Vampire's Guide to Dating, Health, and Emotions.
The top of the bookmark was engraved with an lv, in bold script.

Oh, god, no.
The guide Lucius had referenced on the first day we'd met. I vaguely recalled him mentioning it—right after he'd announced his plans to bite me.

I sank to the floor, staring at the unwanted gift.

Then, against my better judgment, I flipped to the marked pages, reading the chapter heading, "Your Changing Body."
Oh, for crying out bud. . .
There was a passage underlined, too, in red ink. It read, "Young ladies will naturally feel confused, even ambivalent, as their bodies change. But don't be ashamed! Developing your curves is a natural part of becoming a womanly vampire."

I resisted the urge to scream.
I do not need Lucius Vladescu's advice on becoming "womanly," especially a "womanly vampire." And who printed this stuff, anyhow? Who would publish a sex ed book for mythical beings? It would only fuel delusional peoples lunacy. . . .

Before I hurled the thing in my wastebasket, where it belonged, I took a quick peek inside the cover, looking for the publisher. A handwritten note caught my eye first, though.

Dearest Jessica,