Sleeping Beauty (14 page)

“And you can't have it both ways, either. You can't expect me to trust you, when you've deceived me in the most blatant manner. In fact, all of
this is a direct result of your betrayal. If you'd just invited her . . . What else have you been lying about? How else have you betrayed me?”

“I have not betrayed you. Ever.” Her mother's voice shook.

“All you do is lie.”

Lucette felt tears rise in her eyes. She'd seen her parents fight many times, but never with such venom, never with this hate in their eyes. And it was all her fault.

If only she hadn't been so determined to train like a slayer. If only she'd stayed in her room and let the slayers do their jobs. If only she hadn't been cursed. Lucette looked back and forth between her parents, trying to think of something—anything—she could say to make this better.

“This is it,” her mother said, calm washing through her voice. “I've had enough.”

Lucette let a little hope sink back in. Maybe this was over. Maybe her mother would apologize and the nightmarish argument would end.

Her mother raised her chin. “I'm leaving you, Stefan. I'm moving back to my father's estate, and I'm taking Lucette with me.”

Lucette felt as if she were being crushed. She turned to her father. He'd back down now. He wouldn't let this happen.

“Fine,” her father said. “You can leave, but you are not taking our daughter.”

Lucette felt dizzy. The world felt distorted and upside down. It was now two days until her sixteenth birthday, and she sat on a chair in her bedroom, opposite her mother, faced with another impossible choice.

“Lucette,” her mother said, “you know how restricted your life will be if you choose to live with your father. If you think he was overprotective before, just imagine what he has in store after your birthday.”

“Why can't you just stay?” Lucette's voice came out high and whiny, and she was embarrassed that she didn't sound more mature.

“That's not an option.” Her mother's voice was clipped. “You'll love it on your grandfather's estate. Rolling hills, sheep, and best of all, no vampires.”

“But what if I prick my finger?” Although it was horrible to think of being alone at night here in the palace where she'd lived her whole life, to be alone every night in the country—where she knew no one, didn't know the area, and wasn't convinced there wouldn't be vampires—was terrifying.

There was a quick knock, and then the bedroom door opened. Her father strode into the room. “Have you decided, Lucette?”

Her lips trembled, and she fought to keep the rest of her body still. She was trained as a slayer, brave and strong. She could not break down, even though it was clear her parents weren't changing their minds. They'd even refused to let her wait to make this decision until after her birthday.

She had to decide now.

If you were Lucette, what would you do?

 

OPTION A: Lucette should stay here with her father. Everything in her world is changing. If she stays here, at least one thing will remain constant. Her father might be way too strict with his rules, but with him, she has the best chance of preventing the curse from falling. With his rules, there's no way she'll prick her finger. If you think Lucette should choose option A, go to section 4: Glass Houses (page 113).

 

OPTION B: Lucette should go live with her mother. If she stays here, her father will have her living in a virtual bubble. The vampire attacks seem centered around the palace, so if she leaves, she might be safer if the curse does start. It feels cowardly to leave, since she'll be the only one awake at night to defend the palace from vampires if the curse falls, but really, no one can expect one person—even one with slayer training—to protect the entire kingdom on her own. Besides, her mother has done so much to support her. If you think Lucette should choose option B, go to section 5: Country Living (page 147).

“T
omorrow's your birthday, Lucette.” Her father cupped her face in his hand and concern shot from his eyes. “Sixteen.” He tucked her duvet more tightly around her legs as she leaned back against the solid gold headboard. Wood splintered; gold didn't.

“I know, Dad.” As if she could forget this big day. Unlike most girls' sixteenth birthdays, hers would be anything but sweet. She wiggled her fingers inside her gloves, sick of the feel of the leather on her skin. At least he'd agreed to let her sleep in her room alone now that her mother was leaving. Maybe in time she could figure out a way to sneak from the room at night to do some slayer patrols and keep her skills—and her stakes—sharp.

“Mom is coming to my party, right?” After that horrible talk two days ago, her mother had immediately moved into the summer palace on the far side of the village. She was leaving for the country immediately after Lucette's birthday party.

Her father's smile wavered at the corners, as if he were laboring to hold it. “You do understand we'll have to take some extra precautions after your birthday?”

“Like what? Thicker gloves?” Her father had taken every safety measure imaginable. Sewing needles had been banned from the castle almost since she was born and seamstresses were licensed, the tools of their trade accounted for and locked up each night by armed guards. He'd removed every possible potential finger-pricking tool from the castle grounds, yet still acted as if the curse could fall at any moment.

“Don't worry about it. I'll keep you safe.” He ran his hand over her hair, which she'd worn down to please him, and then planted a kiss on her forehead. “Now drink your hot chocolate.”

Lucette smiled. She hadn't really liked hot chocolate since she was little—it was too sweet—but her father had brought it into her bedroom himself, so she couldn't refuse it. She took a sip. Tomorrow she'd be sixteen, and something in the pit of her stomach told her nothing would ever be the same again.

Lucette awoke with a start. Something was wrong. She reached out and pounded on the thick glass wall in front of her, but the sound was muffled by the padded gloves strapped over her hands and clamped halfway up her forearms with tight fasteners.

“Hey!” she shouted. “Let me out!” Her heart raced. Was this part of the curse coming true? It was certainly a nightmare. She spotted small holes bored through the glass, and moved her mouth directly in front of the holes. “Let me out of here!”

Her father appeared at the top of what looked like stairs on the other side of the small room about ten feet from the glass partition that divided the room.

“Where am I? What have you done to me?” She felt dizzy.

The last thing she remembered was drinking hot chocolate before bed last night . . .

Suddenly, she shouted, “You drugged me! You drugged me, then locked me up!” The rate of her breaths increased and it felt like she was drowning. Realizing she was hyperventilating, she bent and forced her breathing to slow. Rage and hurt fought inside her and she regretted choosing to stay with her father. “Why would you do this?” she yelled at him.

“You know why, Lucette. Once you calm down, you'll see this is for the best.”

“For the best?” She slammed her hand into the glass wall between them. “What good is this, anyway? It's glass! You don't think a vampire can break glass?” She felt sure she knew more about vampires than her father, but decided not to go down that road.

“The glass was enchanted by the fairies,” he said. “It won't break. They made it to keep you safe.”

“You're lying! Mom told me the fairies said they couldn't get involved, that they couldn't help us anymore.”

He drew a deep breath. “Enchanting this glass was the last thing they did for us. I had to promise I'd never ask them for help again.”

She backed away from the glass wall and bit at the clasps on her arms, trying to remove the huge padded gloves, but the smooth clasps did not yield to her teeth. She could barely move her hands in these gloves.

“Now, Lucette,” her father said as he stepped up to the glass and put his palm on it. “I'm sorry you were frightened when you woke. I'm sorry I wasn't here to reassure you. I stayed all night and only stepped away for a moment.”

“That's not the point, Dad.” She gave up on her attempts to remove the gloves and walked around her cell. There was a bed with no frame and what looked like a puffy mattress with a duvet on top. A chair constructed in a similar style sat in one corner, and opposite it was another chair cast of heavy iron with padded cushions on the seat. A screen sat in the other corner, behind which she found a bathroom, but all the fixtures were coated with clear rubber.

The walls were made of polished stone, with no edges to climb, and broken only by one bar-covered window high on the far wall. The window had no glass, presumably to let in fresh air, but even if she could figure out a way to climb up to it—an impossible task given the smooth walls, not to mention the thick gloves on her hands—she'd never get through those bars.