Bad Blood

by Mari Mancusi

  Hmm, when he puts it that way it does sound kind of bad. But still!

  “I’m seventeen years old. You can’t tell me what to do!” I blurt out. “If my sister and I want to go to Vegas, we should be able to go to Vegas!”

  He sighs deeply into the phone. “Really?” he asks. “That’s how you want to play this? That I’m some evil tyrant, holding you back, treating you like a child?”

  “You’ve got to admit, sometimes you do.”

  “Only for your own good. To protect you,” he insists. “Vegas is dangerous enough when all is well and mortal. Now add vampires to the mix. Not a great place for a seventeen-year-old to be wandering around.”

  “What are they going to do to me,” I demand, furious now, “that you haven’t already done?”

  He’s silent for a moment and I know I’ve finally gotten to him. But instead of feeling triumphant for getting the upper hand, I just feel sick to my stomach.

  “Sunny,” he says at last, “I’m sorry if you think I’m some horrible, unreasonable jerk-off. But I’m only trying to protect you.”

  “And I’m only doing this to protect you!” I insist.

  “Why on Earth would you think I’d need protection from you?” he asks, incredulously. “I’m a thousand-year-old vampire. You don’t think I can take care of myself?”

  “Not from forces at work behind the scenes that you know nothing about,” I reply. “Not from Jane.”

  I suck in a breath, waiting for his reaction. It bursts over the phone lines a second later like a high-powered explosion. “Oh my God, Sunny, you have got to be kidding me. You’re still on about her? Is that what this is all about? You came to Vegas to spy on me and my blood mate?”

  “You don’t understand!” I cry, furious. “She’s not who she says she is. I mean, did you know she was in a play about vampires? I saw it on a playbill and—”

  “Seriously, Sunny, this jealousy thing has got to stop,” Magnus interrupts in a weary voice. “As I told you before, numerous times, I might add, there’s nothing wrong with Jane. She’s been vetted by the coven librarians a hundred times over and checks out with flying colors. Do you think these guys would let anyone slide through who wasn’t totally worthy of running the Blood Coven? Of being partnered with me? I can promise you, without hesitation or doubt, that these researchers have nothing but my best interests at heart. And if they say Jane is worthy, then that’s good enough for me.”

  I gnaw at my lower lip, frustrated beyond all hell. “Well, it’s not good enough for me,” I insist. “Because I know she’s an evil fraud. And I’m going to prove it to you if it kills me.”

  Magnus sighs into the phone. “You know, I really thought you were more mature than this, Sunny,” he says in a disappointed tone. “I guess I sometimes forget you’re only seventeen.”

  “I am mature,” I squeak back, my voice going into the Minnie Mouse octaves, as it always does when I’m upset. Which is not, unfortunately, the best argument for maturity. “If you’d just listen to me for two seconds!”

  Magnus is so quiet that I have to check to make sure he hasn’t hung up. Finally he speaks. “Okay, I’ll listen. If it’s that important to you, I will. Can you meet me at the Mandalay at eight o’clock tonight? I think I have a five-minute break between meetings. We can get a coffee and talk.”

  Five-minute break. That’s all I get, huh? Meanwhile Jane gets to spend the whole week with him. Really nice. Not to mention eight o’clock is when play practice starts. And I have to show up to that or they’ll kick me out of the play and I’ll lose my chance to investigate Cornelius.

  That said, I’m guessing Magnus is so not going to understand.

  “Um, actually . . .” How am I going to explain this without coming off as a complete flaky lunatic? “Eight o’clock is not really good for me, to tell you the truth.”

  “What?”

  “I have to . . .” I trail off as the auditorium door opens and Allegra, Jayden, and Eric stroll out of the theater. Damn it! Now I can’t even explain this is all a front for an important undercover investigation.

  “Sunny? Why can’t you meet me tonight?”

  “I have play practice!” I blurt out, not knowing what else to say.

  “Play . . . practice?” Magnus sounds like he’s one millisecond away from exploding again. Great. Just great. “I thought you were in Vegas.”

  Jayden peers at me with concerned eyes. It’s then that I remember I must look a mess. All blotchy red skin and tear-stained face. He mouths, “Are you okay?” I nod and give him a one-second gesture, then turn back to the phone.

  “Look, can I call you in a little bit?” I ask, needing to get out of the theater where I can’t be overheard before I can really explain what I’m doing suddenly starring in a Vegas vampire revue.

  “No, I’ve got to get to bed. I’ve been up way too long already, bailing Marcia out of jail. Do you know how hard it is for a vampire to get to the Vegas police office in the middle of the morning without being fried alive? Even with one-hundred-plus sunblock slathered on every inch of my body, I’m burned all over.”

  I expel a frustrated breath. “Okay, fine,” I say. “Call me tonight when you get off. Whatever time it is, I don’t care.”

  “Fine.”

  He sounds so pissed off and I’m desperate to explain. But what can I do? I can’t give him the whole story with the three actors loitering in the lobby. I mean, they seem nice and all, but what if one of them is loyal to Cornelius? They’d kick me out of the play and then I’d never have the chance to get all the dirt on Jane. And with no proof, I’ll have no way to stop the biting ceremony Friday night and Magnus will end up bonded together with Evil Bad Girl for all eternity. Or at least until she figures out a way to slay him and take over.

  “Magnus, you have to trust me,” I say, not wanting to hang up without giving it at least one more try. “I know something’s wrong here.”

  “Trust you?” he spits out. “Kind of like how you’re trusting me with Jane?”

  I grip the phone. Oh so it’s going to be like that, is it? “That’s different!”

  “Sure it is. Good night, Sunny. Enjoy your . . . play practice.”

  And with that, the line goes dead.

  I force back the tears as I stuff my phone into my bag. The fact that he doesn’t believe me hurts more than I care to admit. Why can’t he see that it’s not him I don’t trust—but Jane? I mean, I’m only doing any of this because I love him and don’t want to see him hurt. Heck, it would have been a lot easier to just stay back home in Massachusetts and let the whole thing play out. It’s not like I’m having any fun out here.

  And yet he won’t listen to me. Instead he treats me like a child. Someone who wouldn’t understand the intricacies of his life. Is that really what he thinks of me? Some little girl? Someone dumb and naïve and good enough to make out with, but not smart enough to treat like an equal and truly share his life with?

  It’s times like these that I’m forced to remember that Magnus is a thousand-year-old vampire and I’m not even yet an eighteen-year-old human. He’s lived his life ten times over and I’m still on my first go around. Of course he’s going to treat me as a child. To him I am one. And I’ll still be one, no matter how old I get. Thirty, forty—he’ll still never see me as an equal—a partner, if you will. Like Jane will be.

  I think back to the round table at the conference yesterday. Jane and Magnus, side-by-side. Her voicing her opinions on the bylaws of the consortium. My boyfriend, looking over at her, proud of what she has to say.

  I’ll never be there. I’ll never be invited to give my opinions and serve as a respected equal like Jane. I’ll simply be the child. The trophy bride if we got married. Forever.

  Not exactly the kind of relationship I’ve always dreamed about, let me tell you.

  “Hey, Sunny, we’re going to go grab some food,” Jayden informs me, seeing that I’m now off the phone. “You want to come with?”

  I’m about
to say no, but then suddenly realize I do want to come with. In fact, I might very well need to come with. To spend the day with normal humans who don’t treat me like a little kid whose opinions don’t matter.

  “Sure,” I say. “Sounds great.”

  11

  When Jayden and company find out this is my first trip to Vegas, they insist on giving me a whirlwind tour. I try to protest—after all, I know that for people who’ve lived their whole lives in the shadow of Sin City the touristy things are probably completely lame. But they insist, saying they never have a reason to do them otherwise and truly are just using me as an excuse to have fun, tourist-style. I don’t quite believe this, but they’re not taking no for an answer so I laughingly agree and we’re off on the town.

  We hit the Strip—taking on rides like Insanity at the Stratosphere (which, I might add, truly lives up to its name) and the loops of the roller coaster at the New York New York Hotel. We check out the colorful fountain light show at the Bellagio and the intoxicating Lake of Dreams at the Wynn. We even ride the huge waves in the Mandalay Bay water park wave pool before heading back up the Strip to Circus Circus to catch some big-top action.

  And everywhere we go, my hosts seem to know everyone at the door. We get free rides, free admittance, and limitless chances to cut in line. Totally VIP and none of it costs a cent.

  “Vegas is actually a pretty small city,” Jayden explains as we walk through the midway of Circus Circus, which is packed full of food stands and carnival games of chance. (This is one of the only places in Vegas where kids get to play, too.) All around us, trapeze artists swing through the air with the greatest of ease, as if we’re in a real, live circus. “Everyone knows someone who knows someone. And so it becomes a big trade-off—if you’re in the service industry you can write your own ticket. You let someone’s cousin get in somewhere and next time around he returns the favor. Like Eric. When he’s not acting, he works the door at Studio 54, a dance club at the MGM. So he’s always giving and getting favors from people who want to get someone they know on the list.”

  “That’s awesome,” I exclaim, fascinated by the inner workings of the casino town.

  He grins, his face flushed with pleasure. “It doesn’t hurt that Allegra’s so pretty either,” he adds. “Opens up a lot of doors for us.”

  I glance over at Allegra, who’s currently wrapped up in a conversation with a food vendor, who blushingly hands her three pink cotton candies, free of charge, I bet.

  I turn back to Jayden. “What about you?” I query. “What secret Vegas door-opening superpower do you have?”

  Jayden blushes. “Trust me, it’s not as glamorous as Eric’s and Allegra’s,” he confesses. “In fact, I don’t even know if you’d even be interested, after we’ve already done all this much cooler stuff today.”

  His assuming I wouldn’t be interested makes me all the more intrigued. “I’m game,” I tell him. “Show me what you can do.”

  He grins, looking suddenly excited. “Okay,” he says. “But if you’re bored out of your mind, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  For some reason, I’m pretty sure that’s not going to be the case. Maybe because I’ve already had more fun today than I can remember having in forever. All the pressures I’m facing have faded into the background and I’m just having a good time, like a normal seventeen-year-old girl who has no idea things like vampires even exist.

  Jayden turns to his friends. “Okay, she asked for it. I’m taking her to Planet Hollywood for the show.”

  The other two groan, making mock gagging noises. Eric clutches his throat in a choking motion. Allegra makes like she’s clawing her eyes out.

  “Not again, Jay!”

  “Remember what happened the last time you took a girl there?”

  Jayden shrugs sheepishly. “I think Sunny here is different,” he says. “I think she’s going to like this.”

  His faith in me makes me want to like it, whatever the “it” in question may turn out to be. So we say our good-byes and I allow Jayden to lead me through the casino, toward the front door. The place is completely packed with tourists and their children and for a moment we get separated. But he stops in front of me, grabs my hand, and proceeds to drag me through. I can’t help but notice how his careless touch sends my heart rate sky-rocketing all over again and I scold myself for being so easily affected.

  As we cross over a pedestrian bridge to the other side of the Strip, I try to picture what Magnus might be doing now. It’s already nearly dark—he’s likely just waking up and getting dressed for the night’s meetings. Maybe he’s retrieving his FedEx package from the concierge, filled with donor blood for his dinner. Will Jane meet him down in the lobby or swing by his room? Will Magnus escort her to the conference center, arm in arm? Will tourists stop and stare, amazed at what a beautiful couple they appear to be?

  He was so rude on the phone earlier. Such a jerk. And I’m really getting sick of him not believing a single thing I say. I mean, how come he takes Jane at face value, but anything I try to present to him he dismisses instantly?

  I shake my head, my thoughts too troubling to focus on. I’ll deal with Magnus later. When I have proof about Jane—the kind he can no longer ignore. For now, I’m having fun for once. Normal human girl fun. I deserve that.

  I also deserve, I think, to know where we’re going. But every time I ask, Jayden only offers a mysterious, “You’ll see!” He won’t even cave under tickle torture. (And I’m a master at tickle torture.)

  We head inside Planet Hollywood and down a corridor, lined with shops. Finally we come to a small theater. My eyes shoot upward, attempting to read the marquee, but Jayden’s too quick—covering them with his hands before I can grasp anything except the word “Popovich” written up there. Which, of course, makes zero sense to me.

  “Hang on, girlie,” he teases. “We’re almost there.”

  From here on out it’s like that old game of trust, where one person pretends to be blind and the other tries to lead them. I quickly learn that Jayden, while cute and sweet and adorable, should never be left alone with a blind person, ever. I’m tripping over everything and I’m pretty sure I’m going to fall and break something if we don’t reach our destination quickly.

  “Okay, here we are,” he whispers, his hot breath scorching my ear. We step into a room and suddenly I feel a weird, fluttery movement at my legs. I scream in shock and surprise.

  Jayden bursts out laughing and removes his hands from my eyes. I look around, scanning the room, trying to get my bearings. It’s then that I realize the place is packed with dogs and cats. Big dogs, small dogs, fluffy cats, short-haired cats—the place is a regular canine/feline menagerie. Bright-eyed puppies look up at me, wagging excitedly, while sleek black kittens rub against my legs.

  Delighted, I crouch down to my knees. The animals surround me, each hungry for my attention. I start petting, trying to get my hands on as many as I can and soon my hands and face are covered with exuberant, if not slobbery, kisses.

  “What is this?” I ask, looking up at Jayden who’s picked up a small white cat and is casually leaning against a small desk, stroking its head, grinning from ear to ear. He’s wearing a pair of thick work gloves he didn’t have on before—maybe to keep his hands from getting dirty?

  “The World Famous Popovich Comedy Pet Theater,” he says, pride in his voice. “It’s a show run by this juggler named Gregory Popovich who used to be part of the Russian circus. He’s a huge animal lover so he incorporates these guys into his show.” A flopsy-looking gray and black dog paws at his leg, a chew toy in mouth. He wrestles it away from the dog and tosses it across the room, causing all the animals to scurry after it. “They’re all rescue dogs and cats—once strays—now Vegas superstars. You should see the tricks they can do.” He looks down at the cat, still nestled in his arms. “And they say you can’t train a cat. Please.”

  I watch the dogs wrestle to gain ownership of the squeaky toy. “So how do you fit in her
e?”

  He grins. “I look after them. Feed them, refill their water bowls, play with them. That kind of thing. Gregory does, too—he loves animals—but with fifteen cats and ten dogs on staff, he needs some assistance. So when I’m not acting, I’m usually here.”

  I’m so impressed I don’t even know what to say.

  “Anyway, that’s why I’m always so broke,” he says ruefully. “If I were a waiter or something, I’d clean up in this town. Money, not dog messes. But I can’t help it. I just love these little guys.”

  A wirehaired terrier noses his hand, then looks up at him with pleading eyes. “Oh, Rex,” Jayden says, rubbing the dog’s head affectionately. “Always looking for food, aren’t you? You little rascal.”

  “Aw, he’s cute,” I say. “I wish I had some food to give him.”

  Jayden looks at his watch. “The show’s going to begin soon, so these guys have to get ready.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pass. “Here, take this and exchange it for a ticket, then go save us seats. I’ll be in to join you in a few minutes.”

  I’m sad to leave the roomful of animals, but I’m also excited to check out the show. So I head out the door and back to the box office. A small line has formed outside so I stand in the rear of it. A few minutes later, I have my ticket and I’m inside the theater with a front row seat.

  The curtain rises and the show begins. I watch, amazed, as the show’s star, Gregory, does an amazing juggling act, incorporating the dogs and cats into many of the routines. Some are silly—dogs pushing cats in baby strollers or attending school, sitting at actual desks and seemingly performing math problems—while others are amazing—like when Popovich balances a dog sitting on a platform high above his head, throwing the dog balls and the dog dropping them down a shoot. It’s hard to explain but totally awesome.