Almost to Die For

by Hallaway, Tate

  “What was that like? ” I mean, I couldn’t picture it. Did Mom actually go down into their underground cavern? Or did they stand naked in a park? She never wore a ring. What did vampires exchange for vows?

  Mom actually smiled a bit at the memory. “It was . . . unique.”

  “Are there pictures?”

  “No, thank the Goddess,” she said, taking a sip from her University of Minnesota mug. “I was young and at the time I thought the treaty would really work. I truly believed there was more in common with our races than not. And your father . . . he was so handsome, so noble.”

  I nodded. “Noble” was a good word to describe the vampires I’d met so far. Except for the whole killing people as part of the hunting ritual, that is. My stomach twisted at the thought.

  Mom watched me carefully. She shook her head. “They’re not, Ana. They’re demons direct from hell.”

  “I thought they were older than all that.”

  Mom’s eyebrow arched. “I see you’ve been talking to them.” I didn’t respond to that accusation one way or the other. Eventually, she continued. “It’s true, but consider this important fact. All the stories of devils and demons are based on our friends out there. They’re full of darkness and evil, and they will corrupt you.”

  Okay, now my mother had been replaced by some wacko fundamentalist. “Corrupt me? Are you being serious?”

  “Yes,” she said. Her hands roamed over the coffee cup, as if searching for some answer there. Her eyes darted up to mine. “But you’ll be okay if you never taste blood. Stay away from their blood rituals, and you’ll be fine.”

  Oh, boy.

  Now this was officially worse than the “birds and bees” talk. At least with that one I could honestly say that I hadn’t gone there yet.

  But I’d tasted blood.

  Not just tasted it either. I hungered for it. Just the thought of it now made my knees wobble and my heart pound. Even as my guts lurched at the thought of the hunt I’d just avoided, I still craved blood.

  Mom didn’t seem to notice my reaction.

  “This is why the Initiation is so critical, you see. The temptation to drink blood drops exponentially when you’re bound to the coven.” Now her hands groped the air, drawing frantic pictures. “You see, the Initiation has the potential to destroy the desire entirely. It has something to do with the burden being shared by the group. But that’s why I don’t want you anywhere near vampires until you get another chance at it. I know you can pass if you get another chance. There was that puff of wind when all the candles blew out just as you called east. Are you sure that wasn’t you, honey?”

  I shook my head distractedly.

  I should tell her about Thompson, shouldn’t I? I mean, I had kind of mentioned it on the phone at the bowling alley, but she must not have gotten what I meant. She probably thought I was kidding around. Or maybe she didn’t hear me.

  “It was a strong coincidence, then. Are you absolutely positive? Maybe you can’t feel your own magic working.”

  “What would happen to me if I tasted blood?”

  “You don’t want to know. Besides, the important thing is that you aren’t going to, are you?”

  “Uh. Maybe you should tell me what happens if I do.”

  “Why?”

  “Remember the accident at gym? There was blood.”

  “You said you weren’t hurt.” Mom looked confused, but her face tightened as the truth dawned. “You . . . what happened exactly?”

  “That part I don’t really know, but all of a sudden I had my lips on Thompson’s nose and I kind of . . . no, I totally licked him.”

  Mom’s mouth hung open for a moment. Then she started sputtering, like an engine that couldn’t catch. Finally, she stopped and took a deep breath to start over. I could feel her calming herself, magical roots tapping the earth for steadfast strength. Finally, she said, “It might still be okay. There are rules for first blood. It has to be won in combat or taken from a sworn enemy.”

  “Check and check,” I said. “Plus, Elias said it woke him up. It woke everybody up. Ramses is out there planning for my debut right now.”

  Mom’s anger was explosive. There was a tiny bit of magic in it, and I felt the force of her power shove my chair back an inch or two.

  “I will not allow it!”

  It might have been my imagination, but I swear tiny lightning bolts crackled along the curls of Mom’s hair. The power welling up in her, however, was hard to ignore. The whole house shook.

  I stood up and held up my hands, as though in surrender. “Hey, it’s going to be okay, Mom. Really.” I just kept repeating that everything was going to be okay, because that was supposed to help calm people down, wasn’t it?

  The edges of Mom’s clothes began to flap. A strong wind twisted around her. I felt it pull and tug at my hair. There was heat too, as if the furnace had kicked into double time.

  I found myself scanning for the exit.

  “No daughter of mine will be a bloodsucker,” she announced.

  She didn’t seem to be talking to me anymore, but I replied anyway. “I’m really sorry about Thompson. Believe me. It was an accident.”

  The floor shifted beneath my feet. I fell into the wall. Books crashed from the shelves onto the rug.

  Mom was having some kind of magical meltdown, and it was totally focused on me.

  I had to get out.

  “Hey!” I said, pointing out the window at the mulberry bushes. “Isn’t that Dad?”

  Mom’s head swiveled like the scene in The Exorcist or that giant flaming eyeball in Mordor. For a brief moment, all her attention—and her power—shifted toward the window.

  I dashed for the door.

  I never made it. Magic slapped me hard in the back and I fell. Down, down, down into a spiraling darkness and oblivion.

  Nineteen

  The alarm woke me at seven. I blinked the sleep from my eyes and sat up slowly. Mom had tucked Berry Bear next to my pillow. I stared at his golden glass eyes and frowned.

  It took me twenty minutes to decide what to wear. Every time I picked something out, a part of my brain would reject it as too trashy. When did all my clothes start to look so revealing? In the end, I put on a simple black turtleneck and my sparkly spiderweb jeans.

  Mom was making pancakes when I got downstairs. She was singing the circle song, and my frown deepened. A dream image skittered through my brain of dark woodland creatures and fangs.

  “You look nice,” Mom said, heaping a pile of pancakes onto a plate in front of my usual spot at the dining room table.

  My stomach soured. I couldn’t bring myself to sit down for some reason. I just wanted to get out and get going. “Uh, I’ll grab something at the coffee shop,” I said. “I don’t want to be late.”

  She chewed her lip. Her eyes followed me anxiously to the door. “Well,” she said. “Have a nice day.”

  It felt good to put my backpack over my shoulder and hear the door shut behind me. The air was chilly with the promise of autumn. The scent of fallen leaves woke up my sleeping senses.

  Something was wrong.

  I shook my head and stepped out into the yard. The juniper looked ragged and a pile of brownish needles lay scattered on the grass. I should rake, I thought.

  Out past the gate and down the street. The neighborhood was going through its morning stretches. School buses rattled and screeched down the cobblestone streets. People carrying travel mugs of coffee stumbled to their cars, giving me a brief notice or a little wave. I smiled and hummed a little as I made my way to the coffee shop.

  The lights were dim and the interior of the coffeehouse was moist and warm. As the door closed behind me, I was reminded of stepping into a dank underground cave.

  I stopped as if slapped.

  Suddenly, I was aware of Mom’s spell covering me like layers of cobwebs.

  I had no magic of my own to counteract Mom’s snare, so all I could do was notice how perfectly it held me. The line of peo
ple inched closer to the cashier. I took the opportunity to study the spell. It was well crafted and heavy, like I was shrouded in a silvery fishing net. This was the sort of thing that took time and skill. She must have woven it after knocking me out.

  The effect of the spell was that I felt sluggish and subdued. At least, I assumed that was part of the spell, and not a lack of my first dose of mocha. I had a sense that resistance was futile. Like I had a bout of depression, I just wanted to lie down and let the world pass me by. Barring that, I’d go through the motions like a robot.

  This was probably the spookiest, most evil and insidious spell I’d ever encountered. I’d be incensed and horrified that Mom cast it on me, only I couldn’t quite work up the energy.

  I had to do something!

  Yawning, I shuffled another step or two closer.

  In a haze, I ordered my coffee. I paid. I tipped. I sipped my mocha slowly and walked the rest of the way to my school bus stop. Skater-trash nodded. I nodded back.

  This was awful. I felt like a prisoner in my own life. Hey, I wanted to shout to the skater boy, look at me! I’m trapped in here! Get me out!

  But we just stood there, not talking, until the bus came and took us to school.

  The janitor had removed the graffiti from my locker, at least. Taylor stopped by as I was organizing my books for the day. Organizing? Gah! Make it stop!

  She watched my progress with raised eyebrows. “Someone needs more coffee,” she teased. Today she had on a canary yellow hijab and matching Converses. A long-sleeved white turtleneck was tucked into slim jeans. Over the top, she’d put on a T-shirt with a picture of the bobble-headed Tweety Bird.

  “Nice,” I said, pointing. I mustered a smile.

  Cocking her head at me, she said, “It’s like you’re an overseas call. Two-second delay.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said, cradling my precalc text and notebook in my arms.

  “You never answered my texts.” She pouted. “What happened with Thompson, anyway? Rumor mill is abuzz. You kissed him. You licked his face. You smashed him with a runaway puck. He hates you. You love him. What’s the real deal?”

  I managed a laugh. “It’s complicated.”

  She nodded like she believed it. We made our way down the crowded hall toward my classroom. “You missed drama. Did you skip? Were you sick?”

  “I was so embarrassed by what happened in gym that I ran out.”

  Taylor gave me a sly look, then clapped her hands excitedly. “You did kiss him!”

  It was what I told all my not-close friends, but I felt weird lying to Taylor. “No. You wouldn’t understand. I’m being pulled between two worlds.”

  She arched her eyebrow. “You’re kidding me, right? I am two worlds in one.”

  I raised my eyebrows in confusion.

  She pointed to her hijab, and then to the cartoon bird. “I speak one language here and another at home. In more ways than one, you know?”

  I was starting to. My brain felt stiff and my mouth slow and stupid, but I managed to say, “How do you choose?”

  Taylor smiled. “Who says you have to?”

  Huh.

  I spotted Bea at the far end of the hall. Before I could stop myself, I’d waved. She waved back, but didn’t make a move to come over. Then she did a classic double take. Bea probably sensed the spell hanging on me. I was pleased to notice her chewing her bottom lip for a moment before going back to shunning me.

  “I wish you two would make up,” Taylor said. “Why didn’t you reply to her text? I know she’s feeling hurt.”

  Hurt? I thought she was dissing me! My brain would have been jumping except it couldn’t.

  “Bea was supposed to throw you a belated birthday party this weekend. I already got permission from my dad to go. Now I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

  I didn’t know what to say. “Bea wants to be friends?”

  “Yes! Didn’t I say that five minutes ago? Wake up! Everyone’s been trying to talk to you. I sent you seven million messages last night. Where were you?”

  “I went out with Nik,” I said. We’d reached my class. Taylor had creative writing two doors down, so we lingered just outside. “Bowling.”

  “Oh my God, that’s so cool!”

  I smiled to imagine bringing Taylor along to Bryant-Lake Bowl sometime. She’d look awesome in her hijab and slippery shoes.

  “He invited me to the house party tonight.”

  “You mean the one everyone is going to be at?”

  “I guess,” I said, unsure. I wondered if the spell would let me go, or if I’d drift home tonight and fall deep asleep like Sleeping Beauty.

  “Thompson is going to be there. I hear he’s taking Yvonne.”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course. Good for them. “That’ll be awkward.”

  “You think?” Taylor smiled. The bell was about to ring, so she hurried off. “I can’t believe you kissed Thompson. Nik is so much cuter.”

  No kidding. I wished I was with him instead of heading into math at nine in the morning.

  The only good side effect of Mom’s dampening spell was that nothing fazed me. I should have been absolutely in a panic at the thought of going to gym next period, but it all just seemed so hohum.

  The girls in the locker room snickered at me, but I didn’t even react with a blush. It was like Mom had given me armor plating against gossips. Well, that made this whole experience slightly less evil, I guess.

  We did not, no surprise, continue with floor hockey. As we stood around and waited for instructions, Thompson glared at me from under his head bandage and blackened eye. I should have trembled at the sight, but the spell made me loopy, so I just lifted my fingers in little wave. I expected my little “ hel lo” to piss him off, but instead he blushed and looked away.

  His reaction made me wonder what kind of ribbing he’d had to face after I fled. Did he think I’d kissed him?

  Wow, I should have been squirming. Instead, I just stood there like a perfectly poised mannequin.

  Weird.

  Mr. Johnson had us doing calisthenics—jumping jacks and the like. Somehow he filled an hour with drudgery and sweat. Ah, gym class.

  Then, mercifully, it was over.

  And somehow I managed to not embarrass myself, lick Thompson, or fall over in a stupor. I was starting to appreciate the subtler side effects of Mom’s spell when Thompson bumped into me in the hall. I would have braced myself for a confrontation, but that would have been too much work. Instead, I let the wall prop me up as he loomed over me.

  Yikes, he was menacing as all get-out. I stifled another yawn.

  “What’s wrong with you, witch?”

  “Mom put a spell on me,” I muttered.

  Thompson frowned at my answer, but chose not to engage. “You have a strange way of telling people you like them. What is this, kindergarten? You going to throw a rock at me next?”

  He totally thought I kissed him! “Dream on,” I said.

  He laughed. “You’re the one who planted a wet one on me in front of the whole class. Pathetic!”

  Having gotten in his parting shot, he stalked off. I watched him go. With a shrug, I propelled myself off the wall and back into motion, such as it was. Well, it could be worse. So he thought I was into him. I did think he was cute on those days he wasn’t being a jerk, which was—let’s see—never. But at least no one seemed to remember the truth—that I’d licked his cheek like an ice-cream cone.

  I meandered unhurriedly to my locker to get books for American history. Ode to joy.

  I stayed in a kind of pleasant haze until lunch, when I found myself staring at something that resembled a chicken patty. I was going through a routine of pick up sandwich, take a bite, replace sandwich on tray, chew, repeat, when someone sat down beside me.

  I sighed, expecting Thompson and the whole “What are you doing by your lonesome?” routine again, but I was startled to discover Bea. She didn’t look at me, but she began unwrapping the lunch she brought
from home. She set out carrot sticks, a salami sandwich with mayo, and a cup of applesauce.

  “Someone put a nasty spell on you,” she said, talking to her sandwich. “Smells like your mom’s work.”

  “Yep,” I said through a mouthful of chicken pieces/parts.

  “We haven’t talked since the Initiation,” Bea noted.

  “Nope,” I agreed, much, much less nervously than I felt. How did she feel about me? Were we still friends? Inside I was on pins and needles, but I could only blink slowly at her as if I were half asleep.

  She shook her head at me, sadly, and sighed. “I was kind of shocked, you know, even though it wasn’t entirely unexpected. It just . . .” She stopped and frowned darkly. She seemed to mull over something before she started up again. “Look, I don’t know what to make of you in your new state, but we’re friends. We’ve always been friends.”

  I could have kissed her, but I could only work up the energy to flop my hand on her arm and pat it mechanically. She patted me back.

  “I’m so happy,” I said, and went back to bite, chew, repeat.

  “Well, I’m not. . . . That is, I’m not really there yet, you know, not ready to go back to the way things were, but I just can’t abide this spell. It’s not cool,” she said, frowning at her carrot stick before taking a bite. “You might be half demon, but they shouldn’t treat you like this.”

  “Like what?”

  She spared a furtive glance at me. “Like one of their slaves.”

  If I could have expressed it, I would have been shocked. Bea must have gotten the whole vampire-witch history from someone if she knew that. But surely she’d been sworn to secrecy. Yet, here she was, talking to me. What was going on?

  She started. “Where’s my necklace?”

  I pointed to my backpack.

  “You should have kept it on. It might have helped protect you. Bonds of friendship can be stronger than bonds of . . . oh, that’s it. I think I know what we can do!”

  Bea put a hand on my shoulder like she was giving me comfort, but I could feel her magic exploring the spell. “This is going to be complicated,” she said, and I suspected she meant in more ways than the obvious. “Meet me before drama, and I’ll have a fix.”