Sleeping Beauty

by Maureen McGowan

  “To protect her, you thrust her into abject danger?” He looked at her mother with so much scorn it made Lucette’s skin crawl.

  “You’re a fool if you think you can stop this curse.” Her mother stomped her foot, losing a bit of her control. “If you had your way, she’d be thrust into the darkness totally unprepared. She’d get bitten the first night.” Her mother looked down, as if ashamed by her outburst.

  “Mom, Dad,” Lucette began. She could fix this. She had to. She might be the reason they were fighting, the reason they always fought, but she could also be the reason they made up.“Can’t we put this behind us? I know you both want me to be safe and happy. Dad, I know you want to prevent the curse from happening”—she stared at her ungloved fingers—“and Mom wants that, too. We all do. But if the worst happens, at least I’m prepared for that now. Isn’t that a good thing?” She forced a smile onto her face. “I’m so lucky to have you two as parents.”

  Her father crossed his arms over his chest. “Lucette, please leave the room.”

  “Why?” Her throat tightened.

  “Because I need to have a private word with your mother.” His voice was so hard, so sharp. He had never spoken to her in that tone before.

  “She can stay if she wants,” her mother said. “This concerns her, and she’s nearly sixteen. You can’t treat her like a child anymore. You’ve been pushing her to date since she was barely thirteen, and yet you want to shelter her from the very real dangers she faces. You can’t have it both ways, Stefan.”

  “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).

  Section 4

  GLASS HOUSES

  “Tomorrow’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 t
he 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.

  “You’ve locked me in a prison.” She strode toward the glass wall and slammed her shoulder against it. “How could you?”

  A few hours later, her mother entered the room and her initial shock at seeing her daughter behind the glass turned into rage. She ran to the glass and pressed her hands against it. “Lucette, darling! Are you okay?”

  Lucette shook her head. She was not about to pretend she was okay living like this—not even to keep the peace. She held up her thickly gloved hands.

  Her mother gasped and then spun toward her father. “Stefan, this is too much! She can’t even move her fingers in those things!” She turned back to Lucette. “It’s not too late to change your mind. Come away to live with me.”

  Her father slumped against the stone wall next to the stairs and put his head in his hands. Lucette’s heart lurched. She might not agree with everything her father had done, but in her whole life she’d never seen him question himself. Not like this. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was crying.

  Her mother approached him and stood just a few feet away. Lucette pressed her ear to the holes in the glass so she could hear what they said.

  “Stefan. Those gloves. Really? How is she to wash herself?” Her mother’s voice rose with each word. “You’ve got her in a prison. How could you do this?” She shoved his shoulder. “What were you thinking?”

  He straightened and glared, as if her scolding had firmed his resolve. “Unlike you, I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe. To keep our entire kingdom safe. And after what you did . . .” He shook his head. “The lies you told. The danger you put her in. The risks you took.” He pushed off the wall and the queen backed up a few steps.

  “But, Stefan, the gloves. What can happen to her behind that unbreakable glass? At least give her lighter gloves.”

  Her father’s jaw hardened as he stared at her mother, but he lifted his head and met Lucette’s eyes. She held up the confining gloves.

  Her father ran his hand over his black hair, and then strode over and crouched in front of a long, narrow slot at the bottom of the glass wall. “Fine. Lie down, reach your hands through this meal slot one at a time, and I’ll unlock your gloves.”

  Happy birthday to me, thought Lucette.

  Lucette picked up the latest letter from her mother, who’d written every day since she’d moved to the country. She ran a gloved finger over her mother’s signature. There was no sense in risking a paper cut, although she wasn’t sure that would count as “pricking” her finger. She’d spent nearly two weeks in the tower, and although her father tried to hide the truth, from the sounds she heard at night, the vampire attacks in and around the palace had increased. Lucette missed her mother, but part of her was glad that she was in the country and away from all this.

  Her father had agreed to triple admissions to the vampire slayer academy for the next year, but he had yet to declare war, still believing the Sanguinian ambassador’s claim that the majority of their citizens were against drinking human blood.

  Lucette set down her mother’s letter and climbed the rubber-coated steel ladder her father had finally allowed into the room. If she climbed to the top, she could see out of her tower window and look down over the palace courtyard.

  When she reached the top of the ladder she closed her eyes and inhaled. She could almost imagine she was outside. If she climbed up at the right time of day, the sun hit her face for half an hour. Now bathed in moonlight, she looked down the many stories to the palace courtyard below. It was quiet tonight. A team of slayers prowled the roof of the building on the opposite side of the courtyard, and she could occasionally make out the shadow of something moving on the ground, but it seemed as if the vampires were taking the night off. Maybe the slayers were making progress, after all.

  She hadn’t made much progress herself in finding anything close to true love. Her father had paraded a stream of unappealing young men up to the tower every day to meet her through the glass. In truth, not all of the boys had been horrible, but something was always missing. So far, no boy had come close to making her feel the way Tristan had, even when she’d first met him. Perhaps she was just older and more jaded now. Perhaps Tristan would no longer have that effect on her, either.

  Suddenly, from outside the bars of her tower window, a face appeared directly in front of her. Its fangs glinting, its pale iridescent skin, and its yellow-flecked eyes unmistakable, she knew she was face-to-face with a vampire. Heart racing, she slid down the ladder to the floor in panic and scrambled back along the carpet to her bed.

  “Hello, Princess.” The vampire snapped one of the iron bars off the window as if it were a twig. He stuck his head into the gap and smiled mischievously.

  “Help!” Lucette yelled. Someone would surely hear her through the ventilation holes in her glass wall. Guards and slayers were on duty at the bottom of the tower stairs at all times, but she’d begged her father not to station any in her room outside the glass. She needed some privacy.

  When her father had worried about the window and threatened to fill it with the unbreakable glass, the slayers had assured him that no vampire other than the queen herself could climb that high, or pull iron bars from stone. Apparently they’d been wrong.

  “You smell delicious.” The vampire chuckled as he snapped another bar off the window. Lucette heard the bar clatter to the cobblestones far below. Someone had to hear that, even if they missed her cries.

  He broke off another
bar and then traced his tongue over his fangs. She scanned the room for a weapon, knowing she’d find none. Her father had taken so many precautions to ensure she’d never prick her finger in this room that there was nothing even vaguely resembling a weapon, especially not a wooden one.

  The vampire snapped off another bar. One more and he might fit through. “Don’t be scared. One bite won’t kill you,” he said, and then the final bar snapped. “But since I’ve gone to all this trouble, I might take a very long drink. You have such a beautiful neck.”

  Lucette grabbed a book from the nightstand and gathered every ounce of strength she had. Taking careful aim, Lucette threw her book directly at the vampire’s nose and struck her target. Blood dribbled from his nostrils and shock entered his eyes.

  He wiped the blood off his face. “That’s no way to greet a visitor.”

  Holding onto the bottom ledge of the stone-framed window, he pulled himself forward.

  She ran to the iron chair, picked up the cushions, and threw them at the vampire. They bounced off his head and shoulders harmlessly.

  The vampire pulled through the window and dropped down to the floor. She picked up an unlit candle from the nightstand.

  “Nice stake,” he said as he rose to his feet. “That wick looks sharp.” He stepped around the room slowly, keeping his eyes on her, clearly enjoying her fear and the buildup to his feast. He lunged, hands raised like claws. “Rah!”

  She jumped back, and he laughed. Rage rose in her chest. She sprang onto the iron chair and jumped off, kicking. Her foot connected with the vampire’s chin and knocked him back a few feet. She landed next to him, and dashed backward, knowing she was vulnerable.

  A grappling hook flew through the window. The noise distracted the vampire and Lucette leaped to the other side of her bed. The hook pulled back and snagged the inside of the window. A slayer crew would come up that rope—she hoped—as long as she could hold off the vampire until they arrived.