Drink, Slay, Love

by Sarah Beth Durst

  Stopping just inside the woods, she held still. She deliberately slowed her breathing and listened. Behind her across the parking lot, she heard the coach rounding up the other girls on the field. Ahead beyond the trees, she heard a truck rumble down a street. Above her, she heard cheerful birds chirp and coo. She focused on each annoying, perky, daytime sound, identified it, and then discarded it. Sorting through the noises, she heard a faint rustle that didn’t have an obvious source. Feet soft on the pine needles and dirt, she crept forward.

  Rustling again, a squirrel darted out of a bush and up a tree.

  Pearl glared at it. “C’mon, roadkill. You saw it too. Which way did it go?”

  The squirrel chittered at her from high on a branch. Even rodents were more brazen in the daylight. Pearl extended her fangs and bared them at the squirrel.

  It yelped and dived into a hole in the tree.

  “Respect the food chain, rodent,” she said.

  She heard a soft whicker, and she turned her head so fast that her ponytail whipped her cheeks. She spotted a flash of white in between the pine trees.

  In a soothing voice, she said, “Stay, horsey. Shh, I won’t hurt you . . . much.” She barreled toward it, knocking into branches and tearing through the underbrush.

  Just ahead, the unicorn danced between the trees. She saw its horn sparkle like a spray of golden water droplets as the unicorn cantered away from her.

  Chasing it, she tore through the trees faster than any human could run. When the unicorn broke out of the woods, she was only a few steps behind. She lunged forward. Evading her, it raced across an empty road. She pelted after it. It jumped over a fence, and she vaulted over just behind it.

  It disappeared into another patch of trees.

  She plunged in between pine trees and birches. Green and white flashed past her in streaks. But as fast as she ran, the unicorn was faster. Every time she thought she’d lost it, she caught another glimpse of silvery white.

  It’s toying with me, she thought.

  As she had the thought, she saw the unicorn again—this time, it slowed and looked back at her, as if it wanted her to catch up. Its eyes were brilliant black, swirling with a thousand colors all at once. Caught in those luminous eyes, Pearl stumbled on a root.

  The unicorn surged out of the woods and into the backyard of a house. It clambered onto a low roof over a garage and then vanished over the other side. Seconds behind it, she threw herself onto the garage roof and climbed to the peak—

  On the other side, the unicorn was nowhere to be seen.

  She scanned the cul-de-sac with its TV-show-neat lawns and decorative mailboxes. . . Mr. Sparkly-and-Pointy was gone. Slapping the roof tiles, Pearl let out a yell that could have rivaled Aunt Fiona’s screech.

  She collapsed on the roof and tried to calm herself.

  On the plus side, she was certain now that the unicorn was real. She could say “told you so.” On the negative side, she still couldn’t explain why it had stabbed her—or more interestingly, why it hadn’t killed her. She’d been out for the count. A toddler could have staked her. So why hadn’t the unicorn finished the job? And who had brought Pearl back to her house? So many questions, and the stupid, shimmery, speedy glorified donkey had escaped without coughing up one single answer!

  She continued to lie flat on the roof, working to control her breathing and to resist the urge to yank off all the shingles and toss them in a massive temper tantrum. The sun felt lovely on her skin. In fact, the longer she lay on the roof, the better she felt. It was almost as good as drinking blood.

  She sat up with a sudden thought: Bethany! Pearl groaned. She’d missed meeting Bethany for her tutoring session. There went another day without a proper meal.

  “Unicorn, you so owe me,” Pearl said out loud. She’d never skipped so many meals before. She scanned the houses around her and wondered if anyone was home that she could “visit.” A UPS truck sped by but didn’t stop. She heard a distant radio.

  “Pearl?” a voice called from the driveway.

  She peered over the edge of the roof and saw Evan. He shielded his eyes from the sun to look up at her. “Evan? Why are you here?”

  “I live here.”

  She studied the house with interest. It was one of those nondescript white houses with manicured shrubs, flower beds filled with newly sprouted crocuses, and a perfect weed-free lawn. It didn’t have the standard slightly scummy pool, but it did have the requisite barbecue grill in the backyard, along with a tiny fenced area that would be a vegetable garden in summer.

  “Pearl? Why are you here?”

  “Just taking in the view.”

  Evan crossed to the porch. Jumping onto the porch railing, he grabbed the lip of the roof. She admired his arm muscles as he pulled himself up. He nearly rivaled Jadrien in muscles, though he obviously lacked the vamp superstrength. He stood on the shingles, steadied himself, and then walked up the slope of the roof to her.

  “You missed the excitement,” he said, dropping down to sit beside her. “Seems the new girl in school just took off in the middle of gym class. Ran across the parking lot, dented a few cars, and then vanished into the woods. Speculation runs from drug addict to covert CIA agent in hot pursuit of a criminal.”

  “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” Pearl said.

  “I won’t ask.” Stretching out beside her, he put his hands behind his head. “Look at me, not asking. I am the picture of self-restraint and civility.”

  He seemed as relaxed as a sunbather, watching the clouds drift overhead and soaking in the rays of the sun. He looked as if he were made of sunlight. She imagined how warm his skin would be. Hers was marble cold and would stay that way until she fed. “I didn’t know it was your roof,” Pearl said. “I wouldn’t have come here uninvited.” She watched him, hoping he would respond with the kind of invitation that would allow her to enter his house.

  “You’re welcome to visit my roof anytime,” he said.

  Close, she thought.

  Daddy always said he preferred to hunt businesspeople rather than the derelicts that most vampires targeted. It required more finesse to manipulate a human in a social situation than it did to waylay a drunk college student or a homeless drug addict in an alley. Daddy would have told her to enjoy the game. She, however, had always been fond of the direct approach.

  She checked the street again—no one there.

  Pearl leaned onto her elbow and faced him. “You know, I’ve never been alone with a boy on a roof before,” she purred. Smiling with her teeth hidden, she inched closer.

  He sat up abruptly. “Pearl, I hope I haven’t given you the wrong impression. I know I’ve been friendly, but I’m not hitting on you. I didn’t mean to lead you on.”

  She blinked. Okay, she hadn’t truly been trying to proposition him, but still. . . “Why not?”

  “You’re new,” Evan said. “I remember being new. You need a friend right now. Let’s just . . . be friends first. Okay? You might not even like me once you get to know me.”

  “Seriously? You’re turning me down?” Her kind was supposed to be irresistibly alluring to humans. She was the humanoid equivalent of a Venus flytrap. She’d seen how Brad and the boys at the high school had ogled her.

  “I hope I haven’t hurt your feelings,” he said.

  “I don’t have feelings, at least not the inconvenient ones.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I hope I haven’t hurt your ego.”

  “Yeah, that part of me is a bit miffed,” Pearl said. “What exactly is not hot about me? You’re a teenage boy. I have boobs. What part of the equation is missing?”

  He laughed, a surprised sound that burst out of him and seemed to startle him as much as it did her. “I didn’t expect you to have a sense of humor.”

  “See, I have more than boobs,” she said. “Also keen fashion sense, killer intellect, and more charm than a fluffy little kitten, when I put my mind to it. I am, in fact, the whole package. What exactly a
re you looking for in a girl?”

  His smile faded. “Kindness. Compassion.”

  Snorting, she lay back on the roof. “Guess I’m not your type after all.”

  “Guess not,” he said.

  “Pity,” Pearl said. “You have a nice ass.”

  “Uh, thanks.”

  She poked his elbow with her index finger. “It’s your turn to compliment me. I said ‘nice ass,’ and you say . . .” She waved her hand at her body to show him the options.

  He stared at her. “Nice boots.”

  Now it was her turn to laugh. “Yes, they are. And very useful. Out of general curiosity and not out of a desire to do anything about it, how many cars did I dent?”

  “Five or six, or a hundred fifty, depending on the speed of the rumor mill,” he said. “Good thing you have that mechanic.”

  She winced.

  He saw her expression. “I thought you claimed no feelings.”

  “None,” she confirmed.

  “I saw you look worried.”

  “Yeah, well, there are feelings, and then there are parents.”

  “Ah,” he said. “Home-life issues?”

  She suddenly realized how odd this was: a conversation with a human. She’d never talked to one like this before. “You have no idea.”

  “Try me,” he said.

  She eyed his neck. “Love to,” she said, “but you might scream.”

  An expression flickered across his face so fast she couldn’t read it. He couldn’t possibly have understood what she’d meant. From his point of view, this had to seem like casual banter. Somewhat to her surprise, she wanted to keep it that way. She hadn’t been this entertained in a while. “How about you?” she asked. “You seem to have everything under control. What are your issues?”

  “At the moment just you.” His voice was serious. “I have a bit of a hero complex, you see, and you need saving.”

  She tilted her head. “You have no idea how hilarious that statement actually is.”

  “Tell me why you ran from school,” Evan said.

  “I am a covert CIA agent in pursuit of a hot suspect,” Pearl said.

  “Seriously, I can help you.”

  “Seriously, I doubt that. And I’m not in trouble anyway.”

  “Who were you chasing?” Evan asked. His black eyes were intense. She felt as if she could swim in them. She imagined that countless high school girls had gotten lost in them. Luckily, she wasn’t some silly human girl to be swept away by an intense look. She’d been around plenty of vampires whose eyes smoldered with repressed power. In fact, she was related to several excellent smolderers.

  She considered a half dozen responses and decided that the truth sounded the most innocuous because of its sheer insanity. “I was chasing a unicorn.”

  Evan nodded sagely. “Isn’t everyone, at least on some level?”

  She’d expected shock or surprise or amusement or . . . she wasn’t sure what. Certainly not philosophy. “I don’t think so,” she said.

  A familiar blue Honda Civic turned into Evan’s driveway. Under her, the roof rattled as the garage door rolled up. The Honda drove in, and she heard a car door.

  “One of my brothers,” Evan said.

  I should have bitten him while I had the chance, she thought. Of course, if she had, she would have missed out on the banter. He actually got her jokes. It was refreshing. “You have a lot of siblings?”

  “Lost count at six,” Evan said. “Our parents kept adopting more of us—long story that I’ll bore you with someday. Regardless, it’s pretty unusual that we were left alone for this long. I’m not sure I’ve ever had the house to myself.” He sounded wistful. “I could have raided the fridge.”

  “Sorry to have interrupted,” Pearl said. She should be feeling more regret for missing the opportunity to bite him. What had gotten into her? Talking with a human instead of eating him? Humans weren’t for conversation.

  “No worries. Mom would have killed me if I’d touched Louis’s chocolate cake anyway,” Evan said. “Louis is the third oldest. I’m the youngest. Do you have siblings?”

  “Cousins,” she said. “Aunts. Uncles. The house is never empty.” She wondered what it would be like to be in the house in daytime with everyone asleep. So far, she’d spent every day outside. She wondered if it would feel as if she had the house to herself or if she’d be too aware of all the silent bodies around her, waiting for the sun to die so they could wake. Probably the latter. “Even when it should feel empty, I still feel all their expectations.”

  “I know your pain,” Evan said. “Even when they’re asleep, they’re still there, like they’re tapped into your subconscious. Makes it tough to figure out which thoughts are your own and which thoughts are the ones you’re ‘supposed to’ think. Sometimes I—”

  Whatever he’d been about to confess was interrupted by a shout from the driveway: “Evan?” Pearl looked down and saw a stick-thin older boy with a mop of red-orange curls. “Does Mom know you’re up on the roof with a chick?”

  Evan sighed. “William, this is Pearl. Pearl, my oldest brother, William.”

  “That would be a ‘no,’” William said. He put his hands on his hips as if he were a disapproving grandma. “Pearl, does your mother know you’re up on the roof with this young rake?”

  Pearl rose. “I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” she said. If more of his family was coming home soon, she’d rather not be here. Six (or more) siblings plus parents . . . She didn’t like those odds.

  Softly he said, “Good luck finding your unicorn.”

  “You’re really very strange, you know that?” Pearl said.

  He grinned. “It’s part of my charm.”

  Pearl took two long steps and then leaped off the edge of the roof. She landed in a crouch, sprang up, and jogged down the street. Since she’d missed her rendezvous with Bethany (aka dinner), she might as well finish what she started.

  Somewhere in this town was a unicorn, and she was going to find it.

  Chapter

  TWELVE

  As the sun sank into the horizon, Pearl trudged home without having seen a single sparkly hoofprint or rainbowed poop pile. It wasn’t as if she’d expected unicorn wuz here graffiti. . . Okay, yes, that would have been nice.

  She let herself in the front door and headed downstairs. It was a little later than she would have liked. Already, the Family stirred in the catacombs. She scooted into the storage room. Squeezing herself behind some shelves, she chugged a pint of blood. It tasted like old batteries on her tongue. She downed a second bottle then hid both empty bottles on a shelf behind a few cleaning supplies. As she slipped out into the hall, she hoped no one could tell from her breath that she hadn’t had fresh. She also hoped she could make it to her bedroom before anyone sent her to an etiquette class or conscripted her to scrub the mansion cellar.

  She strode through the halls. In a bloodred brocade corset and tulle gown, Aunt Lianne stepped out of her room. She had forgotten to style her hair, which was spiked at odd angles as if one section had decided to defy gravity and the other had been mashed against her cheek. But Pearl didn’t slow to enlighten her. She nodded to Aunt Lianne and kept walking as if she had a purpose. The key was to look as though someone had already issued her an assignment.

  Others emerged from their rooms. Pearl avoided eye contact and limited herself to nods. She tried to wrinkle her forehead as if she were deeply concerned about pressing business. Certainly her mattress was calling to her in an urgent way.

  Cousin Antoinette waved cheerily. “In a rush?” She was dressed in her favorite partying/hunting outfit: a pink blouse with ruffles plus a miniskirt that would fit a Barbie doll. If Pearl lingered at all, Antoinette would undoubtedly begin wheedling her to come party.

  Pearl shrugged and kept walking. “You know how it is.”

  “Not really these days,” Antoinette said. “You and your double life.”

  Three more doors and she’d be home free, at least unti
l someone came looking for her.

  “Stinking of human,” Antoinette continued. She sauntered toward Pearl. “Thinking you’re too good to hang with the rest of us.”

  Oh, fantastic. Another stupid power game. Antoinette wanted to pick a fight. Pearl debated how to handle it. She could keep walking and run the risk of Antoinette escalating matters with a kick into her spine—Antoinette wasn’t one you should turn your back on. Or Pearl could prove that she was better right here and now.

  It was an easy decision.

  Pearl spun around. Her fist sailed through the air. Antoinette ducked to the side and kicked at Pearl’s knee. Pearl had seen Jadrien use that move a hundred times. Interestingly, she’d never seen Antoinette try it. They must have been training together. Talk about not wasting any time, Pearl thought.

  Like she always did when Jadrien pulled that move, Pearl shifted her weight and caught Antoinette’s leg with her foot. She yanked, pulling Antoinette off balance. Antoinette stumbled against the wall.

  “I don’t think I’m better than you,” Pearl said. “I know.”

  Antoinette merely smiled.

  Pearl kept her knees bent and hands loose. If she tried another move, Pearl was ready. But Antoinette didn’t attack again. Instead, she laughed, a silvery peal that reminded Pearl of Tara, laughing by Ashlyn’s locker. “Just teasing you, Pearl,” Antoinette said. “You need to lighten up.”

  Like that, the play for dominance was over.

  “I have a lot on my mind,” Pearl said. She had to secure the king’s dinner, and it wasn’t going to be an easy hunt. The king didn’t sound like the type that would accept a note from her doctor or any other excuse. She had to deliver.

  “Ooh, homework and pop quizzes?” Antoinette said. “Don’t worry about it, sweetie.” She waggled her fingers at Pearl in a good-bye wave and sauntered down the hall. Over her shoulder, she called back, “I’ll tell Jadrien you said hello.”

  Pearl sighed. “All right. Where’s the party?”

  Pearl descended into the basement of a house owned (she guessed) by an elderly woman who was either too deaf to notice or recently deceased. All the junk had been piled up on one side of the basement, including a 1920s baby stroller, an exercise machine that resembled Aunt Maria’s favorite torture device, and an assortment of hats with plumage that looked more like dead rodents than bird feathers. Everything stank of mildew.