Night School (15 page)

24

I run back to the hotel, but realize once I get there that I neglected to take my key. I pound on the hotel room door where Jareth and I are staying, but there’s no answer. Vampires, probably not so surprisingly, sleep like the dead during the day and it’s nearly impossible to wake them up. I thought perhaps Jareth would be an exception, seeing as he no longer has that pesky sun allergy, but I guess not so much.

Frustrated, I pound again. Louder this time. From the next room over, another door opens and Corbin peeks his head out.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, just trying to wake the undead,” I say, giving up and walking down the hall toward him. “How are you doing?”

He shrugs, but widens the door so I can step inside his room. Part of me thinks this could be a bad idea—being alone with him and all—but at this point I’m stuffed full of Blood Synthetic and not in a snacking mood. I figure if I start feeling the urge to splurge, I’ll check out quick.

So I enter the room and sit down on an old-fashioned cushioned armchair by the window. He sits down on the double bed, which, I note, has not been slept in. “I can’t tell you how weird this all is,” he confesses. “Hanging out with a coven of vampires and all. I never would have thought in a million years.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to admit, the Blood Coven’s pretty cool, right?” I ask. “I mean, they’re all civilized and law-abiding and stuff.”

He nods. “I had a long talk with Magnus on the plane ride over here,” he says. “He’s a pretty smart guy. He told me all about the consortium’s current politics and how the Blood Coven has been working to develop peaceable solutions when it comes to vampire/human relations.”

My shoulders relax a bit; I’m glad Magnus was able to talk some sense into him. “Yeah, most vampires I’ve met are pretty upstanding citizens. And the ones that aren’t? Well, I stake those.” I give him a grin.

“So you really are a slayer then?” Corbin marvels. “For some reason I just assumed that was a front so you could hide out at Riverdale. Like Lilli—er, Rachel—was.”

“Yup. I’m the real deal. And I’ve had two major vampire slays to my name, not to mention a whole crazy werewolf cheerleader thing I won’t get into.”

“So you’re a fairy, a vampire, and a vampire slayer ...” He ticks off my roles on his fingers. “All rolled into one. That’s a lot to keep track of.”

“You’re telling me.”

He grows silent for a moment, then adds, “And now you’ve been reunited with your true love.” He stares down at his hands and I notice his fingernails are bitten to the quick. “I guess congratulations are in order.”

I sigh. “About that, Corbin. I never meant—”

He waves me off. “It’s okay. I get it. You don’t have to explain again. You needed blood. Mine was available. You seduced me and I let you take it.”

“It’s really not that simple ...” I say, feeling that guilt all over again.

He looks up, questioningly.

“It’s not like you were just some random person I drank from. You’re the
only
person I’ve drunk from. My first.” I pause, then add, “And as they say, you never forget your first.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better or something?”

I gnaw at my lower lip. “Look, Corbin, I like you. You’re a great guy. You’re passionate, strong, interesting to talk to ...”

“Let me guess, it’s not me, it’s you,” he interrupts. “And you’d love to stay friends.”

I let out a frustrated breath. “I’ve got a boyfriend.”

“So you say.”

“And I love him. As blood mates, we share a very deep bond. Not something easily broken up.”

“Right. You’ve made that very clear.”

“But that doesn’t mean ...”

“We can’t be friends?” He snorts. “Yes, it does, Rayne. It definitely does.”

My eyes well up with tears at the anger I can hear in his voice. “Why not?” I demand. “Why does it have to be all or nothing?”

Corbin rakes a hand through his hair. “Because I don’t feel very friendly toward you,” he admits. “I love you, but I also hate you. I’m torn between kissing you ...” He pauses, then looks up with bloodshot eyes. “And killing you.”

I swallow hard. “Maybe I should go.” I start to rise from my seat.

“You should,” Corbin says slowly. “But you won’t.”

Quick as lightning, he leaps from the bed and grabs something from under the mattress. I gasp.

It’s a stake.

“Corbin, what are you—” I back up and hit the glass window. Crap. Nowhere to go and Corbin’s blocking the door.

“If I can’t have you,” he snarls, “then I’m going to make sure
no one
can.”

“Corbin, listen,” I plead, trying desperately to keep my voice calm while my mind races for an escape plan. “You’re just feeling the aftereffects of my vampire scent. You actually hate me, remember? You think I’m a pathetic home-schooled slayer vamp. Don’t throw everything away on a feeling that’s not even real.”

His face turns purple with rage. “Vampire scent?” he repeats. Uh-oh. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone there, now that I think about it. “I should have known! All this anguish I feel inside ... all this agony and pain ... it’s been your evil pheromones this whole time, hasn’t it?”

I nod weakly. This is so not good.

“I should have never trusted you,” he growls, brandishing his stake as he takes a step closer. “You’re just like the rest of them. A sick, twisted, disgusting bloodsucking beast. And just like the rest of them, you don’t deserve to live.”

He flies at me so fast I barely have time to react. I manage to duck a split second before his stake makes contact with my heart. Instead, he crashes into the window, the impact shattering the glass and cutting his hand. Blood drips from the wound and I can feel my fangs elongate in eagerness.

I head for the door, but he’s too quick, diving at me and managing to latch on to my ankle. I lose my balance and slam to the ground. As he yanks me back toward him, I claw at the carpet, but can’t seem to get a handhold. So I kick backward with my free foot, my steel-toed Doc Marten boot connecting with his nose. I hear a crack, followed by a scream of pain, and my ankle is now free.

I flip myself over and leap to my feet, grabbing him by the shoulders and smashing him against the wall. His head slams with a thud and he slumps to the ground, unconscious, as blood fountains from his nose, hands, and head. The smell and sight of it all overwhelms my senses, and the next moment I find myself on top of him, fangs buried deep into his neck, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I can feel his feeble thrashes beneath me as he regains consciousness, but he has all the strength of a premature baby. I taste his anger, his pain, his agony—each sip more delicious than the last and I find I can barely form a conscious thought over the ever-flowing ecstasy. His heart thuds beneath me, strong at first, then weakening as I gulp mouthful after mouthful of his spicy, hot blood.

Soon his protests stop and his body grows limp, his pulse slows and the blood gets even more delicious, if that’s possible. I’m drinking his essence now, I dimly realize, his very soul and life are draining into me. And it’s so, so good.

No! I can’t do this. I can’t hurt him any more than I already have. If I do, I’ll be proving to him what he believed all along. That vampires are evil. And I’m not evil. I just ...

I just need help!

It takes every ounce of my strength, but I force myself to pull away. I look down at him, horrified, praying I wasn’t too late. That I didn’t take a life. Corbin’s life, of all people. To hurt him—after he saved me from Slayer Inc. back at Night School ...

I really would be a monster.

My eyes catch a slight rise and fall from his chest. He’s alive, but maybe barely. And maybe not for long. I summon up everything inside me in a psychic scream, begging Jareth to wake up and help me as I try to press a towel to the wound to stop the flow of blood.

He bursts into the room a moment later, his eyes wide and horrified when he sees what I’ve done. “Please,” I beg. “Please help him. I didn’t mean to ...”

“Move aside,” he instructs and I comply, whimpering in a mixture of horror and fear as I crawl into the corner of the room, pulling my knees to my chest and hugging them tightly. Blood—Corbin’s blood—drips onto my skirt, staining it crimson, and I want to throw up.

Jareth was right all along: I need help. And if I get out of this mess—if Corbin lives—I swear I will suck up my pride and ask for it. I will accept any help I can get. Counseling, blood rehab, whatever it takes. I admit it—I can’t do it alone. The monster inside is too strong.

I watch as Jareth checks Corbin’s pulse, then puts his ear to his mouth to feel for any breath.
Please, please be okay!
I bite my lower lip, forgetting my fangs are still out, and my own blood fills my mouth, mixing with my victim’s.

“Oh, Rayne,” Jareth says hoarsely, rising from Corbin’s limp body and turning to look at me. “What have you done?”

“Jareth, please save him,” I beg. “I didn’t mean to ...”

But Jareth isn’t listening to my reply. His attention is back on Corbin, his movements frantic as he tries to perform CPR. My stomach swims with nausea. “Listen to me, Corbin,” I vaguely hear Jareth saying, over my own troubled thoughts. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. I need you to make a decision for me.”

Horror slams into my gut as I realize exactly what Jareth is going to ask him. “No!” I cry, stumbling blindly to my feet. “He doesn’t want that! Anything but that!” After all, Corbin hates vampires. They killed his parents. He’d rather die than become one of us monsters.

Which, it appears, thanks to me, is his only other option.

“Rayne, leave the room. Now!” Jareth growls at me, baring his fangs. I shrink back in horror, my beautiful boyfriend morphing into a menacing beast. Is that what I looked like to Corbin? No wonder he tried to kill me.

I back out of the room, closing the door behind me. I collapse onto the hall floor, not sure where to go or what to do. Inside, I can hear noises. Jareth murmuring to Corbin in a voice too low to understand. Corbin, evidently having regained consciousness, murmuring back. I try to swallow, but the lump in my throat is too big. What will he decide? And is he really capable of making this important decision in his current state?

After what seems an eternity, Jareth steps outside the room. He nods his head at me and I scramble to my feet to follow him down the hall and into our hotel room. If only I hadn’t forgotten my key. None of this would have happened.

“Is he okay?” I ask.

“Depends on your definition of okay.”

“Is he ... dead?”

“Technically he will be soon. He’s lost way too much blood to live.”

“Technically?” Fear wells up inside of me. “So you mean ... ?”

Jareth slumps down on the bed. He looks exhausted. It’s then I see a swath of bloody cloth tied to his wrist and I know exactly what he’s done.

“But Corbin never wanted to be a vampire,” I protest, the horror growing inside of me at a mind-numbing rate. “He hates vampires more than anything. He wants to slay the entire race.”

“He may feel differently once he turns into one,” Jareth says wearily, reaching down to grab a blood bag he’d stored in the minibar. Evidently he needs a refill.

I draw in a breath. “But I thought vampires were only supposed to turn one person in their lives. Their blood mate. And you’ve already done that with me.”

Jareth nods. “According to the consortium’s rules, yes, one offspring per vampire. But in some situations the rules must be ... bent. And as co-master of the Blood Coven, I have the authority to make that call.”

I fall backward into an armchair, guilt ripping through me, so sharp I feel like I’m going to be sick.

“I couldn’t stop myself,” I say at last. “It was scary. I ... I think I need help.”

Jareth turns to me, his eyes full of an emotion I can’t explain. “Yes,” he says simply. “You do. Are you finally ready to accept it?”

I swallow hard, feeling embarrassed and stupid and weak. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

He smiles sadly at me, then pulls me toward him. I collapse into his arms. “I’m such an idiot!” I wail. “I should have taken a donor from the start. I should have listened to you when I wrecked my car back in October, after that fight with David and my mom. But I was too ashamed to admit I couldn’t handle it. That I wasn’t cut out to be a vampire.”

Jareth strokes my head lovingly, shushing me in my ear. “Being a young vampire is tough in the best of circumstances,” he soothes. “And your transition hasn’t been easy from the start.” He takes my head in his hands, tilting it up so he can meet my eyes with his own deep ones. “You’re not Supervamp, Rayne McDonald. And admitting that is the first step.”

I nod, giving him a rueful smile. “I admit it,” I say, swallowing hard. “I admit it from the bottom of my no-longer-beating heart.”

He smiles and leans down, pressing his cool lips against mine, and I can feel the blood tears drip from my eyes at his tenderness. What would I do without my Jareth?

“Don’t be scared,” he murmurs. “We’ll put you in a program—get you the help you need. And everything will be okay. I’ll be there every step of the way. I’ll never leave your side.”

“But what about Corbin?” I can’t help but ask. “I think he’s going to need more than a twelve-step program to come to terms with his new undead status.”

Jareth looks weary. “I got him to sign an agreement saying he willingly gives his life over to the Blood Coven. So he can’t sue us or anything if he changes his mind once he turns. And I’ll assign a few of my men to bring him back to headquarters, once he’s completed his death and transformation, which will take about seven days. There, he’ll be assigned a trainer and he’ll learn how to become a vampire.” He shrugs. “He’s very strong. I’m sure he’ll be okay, once he accepts his fate.”

Okay isn’t the word I’d use. And I doubt very much Corbin will ever be able to completely accept his fate. And I’ll have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life.

“What if he tells everyone I’m the one who did it to him?”

“He won’t. I’m going to have the doctors back at the coven erase his memory,” Jareth says. “After that, he won’t know anything about you. In fact, he’ll never even remember meeting you. So don’t go all confessional on him when you do see him again, okay?”