ReVamped (15 page)

“Who did it?” I asked, glaring from her to Gavin, hoping I’d be able to tell if either was guilty just from the looks on their faces.

Both were convincingly baffled. “Did what?” Gavin asked.

“Ratted me out to my folks. I changed my name. Moved to a new town. They found me. Dad did, anyway. Someone had to have finked. I won’t blame you. He’s sneaky. He’s even got a ‘Have you seen this girl?’ MySpace page with some sob story about me being a runaway,” I improvised. “Reward and everything. People have fallen for it before. And there’s no way his people found me at the mall by accident.”

Lily’s eyes were as big as saucers and Gavin’s lit with a weird manic light.

“There’s a million ways to find someone these days,” he said, “and only so many ways to hide. Did you know—”

Lily slapped him. “She doesn’t want a lecture right now. Do you, Gen? What can we do? You’re not skipping town, are you?” she asked, seeming genuinely upset at the thought.

“Not this time. Whoever’s behind this is going to have a real fight on their hands.”

She looked confused, and I realized my words didn’t sync with my cover story, but they’d been straight from the heart. Whoever orchestrated things didn’t know who they were dealing with. I was the
easy
one, the Prickly Princess had said? Total fighting words.

“Where’s Bella?” I asked.

Lily blinked. “Bella? You don’t think she—”

“Where. Is. She?” I repeated.

My teeth were starting to sprout, and the careful enunciation wasn’t even about menace. I hadn’t eaten in hours; the overdose of earlier action and adrenaline was starting to make me punchy. And Gavin’s little love bites had brought the blood rushing to the fore of Lily’s lily-white neck. Hickeys were nothing more than burst blood vessels. And all that blood, spilling uselessly … I swallowed, shocked to be thinking of my friend as an all-you-can-eat buffet.

“Geneva?” Gavin said, a strange note in his voice. “You okay?”

I snapped out of it then, and looked at him and tried to focus. I could actually see the pulse point of his neck
… pulsing.

“Bella?” I asked again.

“Last I saw her, she was in the kitchen,” Lily said. “But that was, like, a half hour ago.”

Good enough. The apartment wasn’t that big. I would find her. If she was in the jam-packed living room, I couldn’t see her. She wasn’t in the kitchen either, which only left the bathroom—and I surely wasn’t following her in there. But before I moved on, I checked the fridge. My bottled blood had been pushed way to the back of the shelves to make room for beer and wine coolers. I breathed a huge sigh of relief and grabbed a beer for appearances’ sake. I twisted off the cap, threw it on the counter with a couple dozen others, and went in search of Bella. Maybe I could find the weak link before I shut the party down, and the trip wouldn’t be a total loss.

There was a teeny, tiny landing off the kitchen that a real estate agent might call a balcony … if she was really desperate to sell. I figured I might as well try looking there before squeezing myself back toward the living room, contorting around guys I didn’t even recognize who were sloshing beer onto my carpet and using the close quarters as an excuse to cop a feel. The mood I was in, they might just lose a limb … or something they’d
really
miss.

I gave the back door a solid push, since someone at some point had brilliantly painted the door and jamb together so that they stuck shut. It slammed open, striking against the railing mere inches away and stopping, too tight in its frame to even bounce back. One glance told me I had the place to myself. I turned to head back in, only to be blocked by Ulric. He stepped out behind me, close enough to nearly knock me off the balcony so that he could clear enough space to shut the door behind him.

He didn’t know what he was doing. My hunger surged at the thought of the two of us alone on a dark slab of concrete the size of a welcome mat. No witnesses. No moon that could be seen. No light but the little spilling out through the kitchen window.

“Lily says you’re on the warpath,” he began, oblivious to the fact that he looked good enough to eat.

I took a step closer. He didn’t move back, but his face took on a look of bafflement. Ulric liked the chase. He seemed to like the control, putting me off my game. I wondered what he’d make of me as the aggressor.
What about Bobby?
a little
voice in my head asked.
That’s about l—uh … lust,
I told it.
This is blood
. But I wasn’t sure. At that moment, I wanted to bite into Ulric’s neck like I’d never wanted anything in my life. Not Bobby. Not my favorite pair of stilettos or my slinkiest dress.

I breathed him in, starting at that musky place right in the center of a man’s chest and raising myself up on my toes to continue along his collarbone to his neck.

“Geneva?” he asked. His voice barely worked, but that was okay. I didn’t want him for his mind or his mouth.

“Shhh,” I said softly, brushing my lips over his neck. I could feel his pulse beating beneath, taste the faint tang of sweat filming his skin.

He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me away, just enough so he could get a good look at me. He swallowed.

“Gen.”

I pushed him back against the wall, hard enough that he “oooph”ed when he hit. It was like I was two people—the one in charge, who was going to bite him no matter what the other me had to say, and the other, trying to tell me that this was not what I came for. Inside the apartment was my stash of blood. I could make it. But the blood would be cold and there’d be witnesses.
Here
there was Ulric. Warm and willing—or at least he would be once I bit him and the vamp venom or whatever took effect.

“Gen?” he said again, maybe just a trace of panic edging his voice.

A last little bit of sanity made me give him a chance. A small one. “Say yes,” I ordered, not certain I could control myself if he said “no.”

“Yes,” he breathed, like he couldn’t help himself either.

I rose onto my toes, grabbing his shoulders for support, and nuzzled his neck once to brush away any stray strands of hair before opening wide and sinking my fangs deeply into his neck. I sucked, and the world exploded inside me. Sensation was a flash flood. Overwhelming. Incredible. Heat and power. Energy and adrenaline. Life. Liquid life. A roaring, racing fountain of youth.

One of us moaned, but I had no idea where I started and he ended. It was so good. So … I was no longer on my tiptoes, and that’s when I realized Ulric had been sinking, weakened by the blood loss. The realization shocked me enough that my fangs retracted, sliding out of his throat as I went from holding his shoulders to holding him
by
the shoulders as he slumped into me. I eased him to the concrete floor, since I didn’t have so much as a folding chair in the little space.

“Wow,” he said, his butt bumping the floor.

I looked at him, seeing him perfectly in the dark as his head rolled from its resting place against the wall to lock eyes with me—those deep, dark eyes filled with something akin to worship.

“Was’t good for you?” he asked, a sleepy slur to his voice. Guilt hit me in the gut. Me. Guilt. It was the one thing I didn’t wear well. Usually, I returned it with the price tag still attached, but today I smacked right up against a serious no-returns policy.

“Great,” I muttered truthfully. Then, louder, “You stay right there. I’ll get you something to drink.”

I tried to tell myself I was no worse than a blood drive, buying him off with cookies and juice.

I turned to head back in, to scour the apartment for anything edible that might have been brought in, and came face-to-face in the doorway with Bella and her ice blue eyes, such a cold contrast to Bobby’s warm blue.

“Geneva, Lily said you were looking for me?” she began, in that fey voice of hers.

If she noticed Ulric slumped down on the balcony, she gave no sign, but I don’t know how she could miss him.

“Bella! Thank goodness. Ulric collapsed. Low blood sugar or something. You stay with him while I grab him something to eat.”

Bella didn’t budge, and suddenly I
knew.
I’d suspected, but
I hadn’t realized how much I’d been hoping I was wrong, and how little I’d committed to the idea that I was right—until now. It hurt. I mean, we’d gone
shoe shopping
together, for God’s sake. It didn’t get more bonding than that. But apparently it meant nothing to her.

She saw the moment I came to my conclusion, and the mild look fell from her face like a mask. “You’re not going anywhere,” she growled, lunging at me. I leapt aside, but got tangled up in Ulric’s sprawled legs and didn’t get as far away as I wanted—far enough away to avoid the hypodermic needle Bella had been hiding behind her back. She sank it deep into the muscle between my shoulder and my neck and pushed the plunger. My whole body caught fire, burning me up from the inside out. “Garlic juice,” she said in my ear.

I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t do anything but fall to the cold concrete floor of the balcony, clawing at myself as if I could rip open a vent for the fire within to escape.

Then she did something, but I couldn’t tell what, couldn’t see through my parboiling eyeballs. Whatever she did jostled me one way, then the other. And suddenly she was treating me like a life-sized marionette, jacking me upright with the aid of a rope wrapped around the railing. Soon I was standing, or some semblance of it, eye-to-eye with Bella, who hesitated for a moment on the verge of doing whatever she was about to do. “I’m sorry I have to do this,” she said softly. “It’s the only way in. As soon as I hit my weight goal, they’ll preserve me in time. Young, skinny … eternal.”

And then she pushed me over the rail. I had a moment of terror as I plummeted, forgetting in my fear that I would live through the fall.

I braced for impact, but something caught me before I hit the ground. Arms. Thin, almost skeletal. Wrong somehow, as if there was an extra joint, and then a voice in my head, as different from Bobby’s as hightops to heels.

Ah, pretty, pretty, pretty. At last you’re mine.

Alistaire … the psycho-psychic, subtly twisted beyond recognition by some magic gone wrong. The one who’d called me
chaos
, back in Ohio, and nearly eaten my BFF while inexplicably not eating me. He’d left the clear understanding that it was a one-time deal.

I hoped the garlic would kill me, because if not, Alistaire surely would. And Alistaire liked to play with his food.

14

Alistaire licked my nose like a pit bull puppy. In fact, he resembled one—his eyes sharp and predatory, watching me like a chew toy he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into. And those teeth … too many of them, all razor sharp. He’d been a man once, then a vampire, and now something other, though I still didn’t know exactly what. He still wore a man’s shape … except when he didn’t.

“Ah,” he said, closing his eyes to savor my taste. “Such a unique vintage, but there’s something … different about it. Word is that you and your boy have become daywalkers. The stuff of legend.”

Above us, Bella gasped, calling Alistaire’s attention to the balcony. I guessed he wasn’t who she’d been expecting, so I took a quick look around for her conspirator—he or she might distract Alistaire enough for me to bolt, assuming my body would cooperate. This hope was quickly dashed. Grunge Vamp lay on the ground just feet away, his throat torn out.

“Don’t worry, morsel,” Alistaire said, his voice that eerily high-pitched singsong I’d hoped never to hear again. Like a possessed Tiny Tim. “Your friend will heal and return with a message to his sire …
my
sire, in fact. Grigori and I go way back, to the beginning. And what’s a little blood-letting among friends?”

Bella’s eyes were wide, white showing all around them like a spooked polo pony. She looked ready to bolt. “Hold!” Alistaire commanded. She clutched at her head, and I knew he was pushing his thoughts on her. I remembered the feeling—it was like an entire swarm of hornets in a stinging frenzy, swelling your brain until it would burst your skull wide open. Alistaire’s mind was not a pretty place. Nor particularly sane. “You tend to your friend and leave me to mine. Forget everything else. Everything you’ve seen and heard.”

She collapsed to her knees, to where we could no longer see her head above the balcony rail. I hoped he hadn’t pushed too hard. Even with what she’d done, I couldn’t quite want her dead. Not that way. On the other hand, once her compatriots knew she’d failed, what I wanted might be a moot point.

“Alone at last,” Alistaire said then, as if Bella were already forgotten. I was used to having a man’s total attention, but not this way. Alistaire looked at me as though he’d like to crawl around in my skin while I was still wearing it. “I’ve missed you. Oh, so much. I promised I’d be back. But where is the boy? Have you lost him?”

The hornets swarmed in my head as he forced his way into my thoughts. He couldn’t control me. None of them could. It was my single claim to fame beyond the whole eternal-life/sharpened-senses thing. But he could rifle through my mind, reading my thoughts. There was no finesse to it, and the disaster he left in his wake was like the devastation of a smash-and-grab rather than the precision of a cat burglar. I had to fight him.

I tried. For Bobby. But the heinous hornets burned their way through the walls I tried to throw in the psycho-psychic’s path. I had no control over my body because of Bella’s injection, no control of my mind. I sagged to the ground, weeping precious blood at the pain.

“Ah hah,” Alistaire said at last, still holding me so that I couldn’t slide away entirely. “So he
is
here. I heard of the council’s plan to turn humans into the sheep they are, and I knew who they would call. Who else but the ancient alchemist, the Mad Monk?”

The glee was such that he could have been crowing about winning the lottery or a lifetime supply of hair gel. It was stupid to feel hurt that
I
wasn’t his ultimate prey. But then, I’d already been caught, hadn’t I? And so easily. By a scrawny little goth girl I should have known better than to trust.

Alistaire shook me out of my thoughts by lifting me up, throwing me over his shoulder, and sprinting off. Around my building he went, across the street between all the cars, past another apartment building so similar to mine they could have been twins, and finally into the woods beyond. He kept on going at full speed, regardless of the branches that whipped like canes and the downed logs he vaulted like a pro. At least my face was sheltered, but my nose bumped against his bony back with each step, and I took some satisfaction in the idea that I was bruising it as well … but not much.

“Slow down!” I called, but it came out more like, “Oh ow!” and he ignored me entirely.

Then his steps changed, and we seemed to be bounding up a set of stairs.
In the middle of the woods?
I wondered, but I couldn’t see. I could only hear the sound of a door splintering as he punched into it to get around the lock. Then we were through. It was a few more seconds before he threw me down on a couch that smelled of decades worth of dust and dirt.

Suddenly, I could see again—vaguely. The garlic still coursed through my system, leaving me weak and wonky, but it didn’t matter—there wasn’t much to look at. We were in a dark room with wood-slat walls, a few blurry chairs, and a makeup counter running the length of one wall topped with what looked like the general contraband of a theater company. Costumes lay discarded over the back of the musty couch and, now that I squinted, I saw something that looked like, and I sincerely hoped was, faux flesh sitting on the counter among the makeup sponges and containers.

I shuddered, hot and cold at the same time as though I had food poisoning. I hadn’t sweated since I’d gone vamp—just one more side effect—and if my sweat was anything like my tears, I couldn’t be doing wonders for the couch.

Alistaire, studying me, said, “It is perfect, no?” He laughed, and it felt like spiders with pin-prickly legs climbing over my flesh. “Humans use this as a haunted house. In less than a month, this place will be crawling with people, so kind as to cater to each other’s fears. Delicious.”

He squatted in front of me and I shrank back as much as I could. His black, pointed tongue came out to lick my nose again. “Yes, delicious. Except for the garlic aftertaste. But that too will pass. And then, pretty, pretty, you will be mine.”

Oh joy. Oh rapture. I had to escape before then. As soon as I could think, see, and walk properly.

Alistaire ran his hands over me until I wanted to puke, but stopped when he came to my cell phone. He pulled it out, wiped the screen where my makeup had probably left a smudge, and dialed. I was baffled. First, over the idea that he had any friends to call.

“You have this number now,” he said into the phone. “Call me when you’re ready to make a deal …
Pater
.”

Okay, cold, I was definitely running cold. Frozen with shock, actually. Was it the Mad Monk he was calling? Of course, it all tied together, the Mad Monk was his sire … but a vampire
pater
or a human one?

Either way made a stunning kind of sense when I thought about it. Both Raspy and Alistaire had cheated death several times over the course of their lives, Alistaire most recently when his vampire daughter, Bobby’s dam, had tried to take over Alistaire’s territory by killing him off but only managed to twist him into the fine figure of a boogeyman he was today. Maybe it ran in the family. If I remembered rightly, when Rasputin wasn’t advising Russian royalty or messing with magic, he was partying the night away, which usually ended with a partner or two, unless rumors of his affairs were greatly exaggerated. He probably had more offspring than I could shake a stake at. Had they all … been vamped? The very idea was terrifying, way more terrifying than anything ever developed for this haunted house we were in.

Alistaire slammed my phone shut and tossed it onto the counter beside the faux flesh. It made a gruesome still-life. “Don’t move,” he ordered, before leaving the room. Only for a minute, sadly. Not long enough for me to get my muscles to respond and escape. He came back with a roll of duct tape that he used with wild abandon, taping my legs to each other and binding my arms against my sides like some low-end seaweed wrap.

My blood-sweat made the sticky side of the tape gummy almost instantly. I vowed that when I got free, I was going to use up the rest of Alistaire’s nine lives in the most painful way possible.

It was either close to dawn or the garlic poisoning was truly catching up to me. I struggled to keep my eyes open, to find the strength and means to escape, but exhaustion hit me like a two-ton truck, and I slept like the dead.