Bloodlines b-1

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Bloodlines b-1 Page 13

by Richelle Mead


  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded, crossing my arms. Staring him down, I felt all my old animosity bubble up. It was hard to believe that I’d been laughing just a minute ago.

  Keith sneered. “Just that you seemed awfully cozy with them in there—hanging out, having a good time. I didn’t know this was where you spent your free time after school.”

  “How dare you! I came here on business,” I growled.

  “Yeah, I could tell.”

  “I did. I had to talk to Adrian about Jill.”

  “I don’t recall him being her guardian.”

  “He cares about her,” I argued. “Just like any of us would for a friend.”

  “Friend? They’re not like us at all,” said Keith. “They’re godless and unnatural, and you have no business being friends with any of them.”

  I wanted to shout back that from what I’d observed, Lee was a hundred times more decent of a person than Keith would ever be. Even Adrian was. It was only at the last second that my training kicked in. Don’t raise a fuss. Don’t contradict your superiors. No matter how much I hated it, Keith was in charge here. I took a deep breath.

  “It was hardly fraternizing. I simply came by to talk to Adrian, and Lee happened to be here. It wasn’t like we’d all been planning some big party.” Best not to mention the group date plan.

  “Why didn’t you just call Adrian if you had a question? You called me.”

  Because being face-to-face with him is less sickening than being around you.

  “It was important. And when I couldn’t get ahold of you, I figured I’d have to drive over to your place anyway.”

  Hoping to shift away from my “bad behavior,” I jumped in and recapped everything that had happened today, including Jill’s sun exposure and Micah’s attentions.

  “Of course she can’t date him,” he exclaimed, after I’d explained about Micah. “You have to put a stop to that.”

  “I’m trying. And Adrian and Lee said they’d help.”

  “Oh, well, I feel a lot better now.” Keith shook his head. “Don’t be naive, Sydney. I told you. They don’t care about this stuff as much as we do.”

  “I think they do,” I argued. “Adrian seemed to get it, and he has a lot of influence over Jill.”

  “Well, he’s not the one the Alchemists are going to come after and send off to re-education for playing around with vampires when she should be disciplining them.”

  I could only stare. I wasn’t sure which part of what he’d just said was more offensive: the well-worn insinuation that I was a “vamp lover” or that I was capable of “disciplining” any of them. I should’ve known his false friendliness wouldn’t last.

  “I’m doing my job here,” I said, still keeping my voice level. “And from what I can see, I’m doing more work than you, since I’m the one who’s been putting out fires all week.”

  I knew it was an illusion, seeing as the glass eye couldn’t really stare, but I felt like he was glaring at me with both eyes. “I’m doing plenty. Don’t even think to criticize me.”

  “What were you doing here?” I asked, suddenly realizing how weird that was. He’d accused me of “socializing” but had never explained his motives.

  “I had to see Clarence, not that it’s any of your business.”

  I wanted more details but refused to let on how curious I was. He’d been here yesterday too, according to Lee. “Will you call the school tomorrow and get Jill excused from PE?”

  Keith gave me a long and heavy look. “No.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Because being out in the sun won’t kill her.”

  Again, I bit down on my anger and tried for the diplomacy I’d been schooled in. “Keith, you didn’t see her. Maybe it won’t kill her, but it was miserable for her. She was in agony.”

  “I don’t really care if they’re miserable or not,” Keith said. “And neither should you. Our job is to keep her alive. There was no mention of making sure she’s happy and comfortable.”

  “I wouldn’t think anyone would have to tell us,” I said, aghast. Why was he so upset? “I’d think being sensitive human beings, we could just do it.”

  “Well, now you can. You can either get someone above us to issue a note to the school or you can give her ice baths after gym class. I really don’t care what you do, but maybe it’ll keep you busy enough that you’ll stop coming over here unannounced and throwing yourself at creatures of darkness. Don’t let me hear about this happening again.”

  “You are unbelievable,” I said. I was too upset and at a loss for words to manage anything more eloquent.

  “I’m looking out for your soul,” he said loftily. “It’s the least I can do for your dad. Too bad you aren’t more like your sisters.”

  Keith turned his back on me and unlocked the car door without another word. He got in and drove off, leaving me staring. Tears threatened my eyes, and I swallowed them back. I felt like an idiot—but not because of his accusations. I didn’t believe for an instant that I’d done anything wrong by coming over here. No, I was mad—mad at myself—because I’d let him walk away with the last word and because I hadn’t had the nerve to say anything back. I’d stayed silent, just like everyone always told me to.

  I kicked the gravel in my anger, sending a spray of it into the air. A few small rocks hit my car, and I winced. “Sorry.”

  “Would he accuse you of being evil for talking to an inanimate object?”

  I spun around, heart racing. Adrian was leaning against the house, smoking. “Where did you come from?” I demanded. Even though I knew everything there was to know about vampires, it was hard to shake superstitious fears of them appearing out of thin air.

  “Other door,” he explained. “I went out to smoke and overheard the commotion.”

  “It’s rude to eavesdrop,” I said, knowing I sounded unbearably prim but unable to stop myself.

  “It’s rude to be an asshole like that.” Adrian nodded toward where Keith had driven away. “Are you going to be able to get Jill out of class?”

  I sighed, suddenly feeling tired. “Yeah, I should be able to. It’ll just take a little longer while I get some other Alchemist to be our fake parents. Would’ve been a lot faster if Keith had done it.”

  “Thanks for looking out for her, Sage. You’re okay. For a human.”

  I almost laughed. “Thanks.”

  “You can say it too, you know.”

  I walked over to Latte and paused. “Say what?”

  “That I’m okay . . . for a vampire,” he explained.

  I shook my head, still smiling. “You’ll have a hard time getting any Alchemist to admit that. But I can say you’re okay for an irreverent party boy with occasional moments of brilliance.”

  “Brilliant? You think I’m brilliant?” He threw his hands skyward. “You hear that, world? Sage says I’m brilliant.”

  “That’s not what I said!”

  He dropped the cigarette and stamped it out, giving me a devil-may-care grin. “Thanks for the ego boost. I’m going to go tell Clarence and Lee all about your high opinion.”

  “Hey, I didn’t—”

  But he was already gone. As I drove away, I decided the Alchemists needed an entire department devoted to handling Adrian Ivashkov.

  When I got back to my dorm room, I found Jill sitting surrounded in textbooks and papers, undoubtedly trying to catch up from yesterday.

  “Wow,” I said, thinking of the homework that waited for me too. “You’ve got a whole command center set up.”

  Rather than smile at my joke, Jill looked up with an icy gaze. “Do you think,” she said, “that maybe next time you want to mess with my dating life, you could talk to me first?”

  I was speechless. Adrian had said he’d talk to Jill. I just hadn’t realized it’d be so quickly.

  “You don’t have to go behind my back to keep me away from Micah,” she added. “I’m not stupid. I know I can’t date a human.”

  So
Adrian had apparently told her that much.

  “And,” Jill continued, still in that cold tone, “you don’t have to set me up with the only eligible Moroi within a hundred miles in order to keep me out of trouble.”

  Okay . . . Adrian had apparently told her everything. I would’ve expected more discretion from him, especially with the Lee part.

  “We . . . we weren’t setting you up,” I said lamely. “Lee wanted to ask you out anyway.”

  “But rather than talk to me, he asked permission from you guys! You don’t control my life.”

  “I know that,” I said. “We weren’t trying to!” How had this just blown up right in front of me? “Lee acted on his own.”

  “Just like you did when you went to talk to Adrian behind my back.” Her eyes glittered with angry tears, daring me to deny it. I couldn’t and only now realized the wrongness of what I’d done. Ever since she found out she was royal, Jill had watched other people dictate her life for her. Maybe my intentions to get Adrian to talk to her about Micah were good, but I’d addressed them in the wrong way.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I’m sorry that I—”

  “Forget it,” she said, slipping a pair of headphones on. “I don’t want to hear any more. You made me look stupid in front of both Adrian and Lee. Not that they’ll even think twice about me in Los Angeles tonight.” She waved a hand at me and looked down at the book in front of her. “I’m done with you.”

  Whether she couldn’t hear me because of the music or simply because she’d now chosen to ignore me, I couldn’t say. All I knew was that I once again found myself comparing her to Zoe. Just like with Zoe, I’d tried to do something good for Jill, and it had backfired. Just like with Zoe, I’d ended up hurting and humiliating the one I’d tried to protect.

  Sorry, Sage. Last I checked, you aren’t an expert in social matters.

  That, I thought bitterly, was the saddest part of all—that Adrian Ivashkov was right.

  CHAPTER 10

  MY PHONE RANG JUST THEN, saving me from the awkwardness of figuring out what to do about Jill. I answered without bothering to check the caller ID.

  “Miss Melbourne? Your services are needed immediately.”

  “Ma’am?” I asked in surprise. Ms. Terwilliger’s frantic voice was not what I’d been expecting. “What’s wrong?”

  “I need you to get me a caramel sauce cappuccino from Spencer’s. There is absolutely no way I can finish translating this document if you don’t.”

  There were a million responses I could make to that, none of which were very polite, so I went with the obvious point of logic.

  “I don’t think I can,” I said.

  “You have off-campus privileges, don’t you?”

  “Well, yes, ma’am, but it’s almost campus curfew. I don’t know where Spencer’s is, but I don’t think I can make it back in time.”

  “Nonsense. Who’s running your dorm? That Weathers woman? I’ll call down and get you an exception. I’m working in one of the library offices. Meet me there.”

  Despite my personal devotion to coffee, getting an “exception” to the school’s curfew seemed kind of excessive for an errand like this. I didn’t like to bend the rules. On the other hand, I was Ms. Terwilliger’s assistant. Wasn’t this part of my job description? All the old Alchemist instincts to follow orders kicked in.

  “Well, yes, ma’am, I suppose I—”

  She disconnected, and I stared at the phone in astonishment. “I have to go,” I told Jill. “Hopefully I’ll be back soon. Maybe very soon since I’ll be surprised if she remembers to call Mrs. Weathers.” She didn’t look up. With a shrug, I packed my laptop and some homework, just in case Ms. Terwilliger thought of something else for me to do.

  With coffee on the line, my teacher’s memory was good, and I found I did indeed have clearance to leave when I went downstairs. Mrs. Weathers even gave me directions to Spencer’s, a coffee shop that was a few miles away. I got the cappuccino, wondering if I’d be reimbursed, and picked up something for myself as well. The library staff at Amberwood gave me a hard time about carrying in beverages when I returned, but when I explained my errand, they waved me on through to the back offices. Apparently, Ms. Terwilliger’s addiction was well known.

  The library was surprisingly busy, and I quickly deduced why. After a certain point each night, guys and girls were banned from each other’s dorms. The library was open later, so this was the place to go to hang out with the opposite sex. Lots of people were just there to study too, including Julia and Kristin.

  “Sydney! Over here!” called Kristin in a stage whisper.

  “Break free of Terwilliger,” added Julia. “You can do it.”

  I held up the coffee as I passed them. “Are you kidding? If she doesn’t get her caffeine soon, there’ll be no escaping her. I’ll come back if I can.”

  As I continued walking through, I saw a small cluster of students gathered around someone—and heard a familiar and annoying voice. Greg Slade’s.

  Curious in spite of myself, I walked over to the edge of the crowd. Slade was showing off something on his upper arm: a tattoo.

  The design itself was nothing special. It was an eagle in flight, the kind of generic art all tattoo shops had in stock and copied en masse. What caught my attention was the color. It was all done in a rich, metallic silver. Metallics like that weren’t easy to pull off, not with that sheen and intensity. I knew the chemicals that went into my own gold tattoo, and the formula was complex and composed of several rare ingredients.

  Slade made a halfhearted effort to keep his voice low—tattoos were forbidden around here, after all—but it was clear he was enjoying the attention. I observed quietly, glad others were asking some of my questions for me. Of course, those questions only left me with more questions.

  “That’s brighter than the ones they used to do,” one of his friends noted.

  Slade tilted his arm so the light caught it. “Something new. They say these are better than the ones from last year. Not sure if that’s true, but it wasn’t cheap, I can tell you that.”

  The friend who’d spoken grinned. “You’ll find out at tryouts.”

  Laurel—the red-haired girl who’d been interested in Micah—stretched out her leg beside Slade, revealing a slim ankle adorned with a faded butterfly tattoo. No metallics there. “I might get mine touched up, maybe for homecoming if I can get the money from my parents. Do you know if the celestial ones are better this year too?” She tossed back her hair as she spoke. From what I’d observed in my brief time at Amberwood, Laurel was very vain about her hair and made sure to throw it around at least every ten minutes.

  Slade shrugged. “Didn’t ask.”

  Laurel noticed me watching. “Oh, hey. Aren’t you vampire girl’s sister?”

  My heart stopped. “Vampire?”

  “Vampire?” echoed Slade.

  How did she find out? What am I going to do? I had just begun making a list of the Alchemists I had to call when one of Laurel’s friends snickered.

  Laurel looked at them and laughed haughtily, then turned back to me. “That’s what we’ve decided to call her. No one human could possibly have skin that pale.”

  I nearly sagged in relief. It was a joke—one that hit painfully close to the truth, but a joke nonetheless. Still, Laurel didn’t seem like someone to cross, and it’d be better for all of us if it was a joke soon forgotten. I admittedly blurted out the first distracting comment that came to mind. “Hey, stranger things have happened. When I first saw you, I didn’t think anyone could have hair that long or that red. But you don’t hear me talking about extensions or dye.”

  Slade nearly doubled over with laugher. “I knew it! I knew it was fake!”

  Laurel flushed nearly as red as her hair. “It is not! It’s real!”

  “Miss Melbourne?”

  I jumped at the voice behind me and found Ms. Terwilliger there, watching me with bemusement. “You aren’t getting credit for chatting, especially
when my coffee’s on the line. Come on.”

  I skulked away, though hardly anyone noticed. Laurel’s friends were having too much fun teasing her. I hoped I had diffused the vampire jokes. Meanwhile, I couldn’t get the image of Greg’s tattoo out of my mind. I let my thoughts wander to the mystery of what components would be needed for that silver color. I almost had it figured out—at least, I had one possibility figured out—and wished I had access to Alchemist ingredients to do some experiments. Ms. Terwilliger took the coffee gratefully when we reached a small workroom.

  “Thank God,” she said, after taking a long sip. She nodded at mine. “Is that a backup one? Excellent thinking.”

  “No, ma’am,” I said. “It’s mine. Do you want me to start in on those?” A familiar stack of books sat on the table, ones I’d seen in her classroom. They were core parts of her research, and she’d told me I’d eventually need to outline and document them for her. I reached for the top one, but she stopped me.

  “No,” she said, moving toward a large briefcase. She rifled through papers and assorted office supplies, finally digging out an old leather book. “Do this one instead.”

  I took the book. “Can I work out there?” I was hoping if I went back to the main study area, I could talk to Kristin and Julia.

  Ms. Terwilliger considered. “The library won’t let you have the coffee. You should probably leave it in here.”

  I waffled, debating whether my desire to talk to Kristin and Julia outweighed the likelihood that Ms. Terwilliger would drink my coffee before I got back. I decided to take the risk and bid my coffee a painful farewell as I hauled my books and gear back out to the library.

  Julia eyed Ms. Terwilliger’s beat-up book with disdain. “Isn’t that just on the internet somewhere?”

  “Probably not. I’m guessing no one’s even looked at this since before the internet was invented.” I opened the cover. Dust fluttered out. “Way before.”

  Kristin had math homework open in front of her but didn’t look particularly interested in it. She tapped a pen absentmindedly against the textbook’s cover. “So you saw Slade’s tattoo?”

 

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