Blood Type

by Melissa Luznicky Garrett

  And yet, John had never so much as hung out or even spoke to anyone else at school, except for the odd occasion when I saw him with Margaret and Thomas . . . or Dylan and Jill. Now I knew the reason why.

  John had always been quiet and kept to himself. He’d never shown any sort of interest in any other girl before. Except me, I thought, remembering all those times I’d caught him staring.

  I collapsed against the bed and screamed out loud. “Where the hell are you, Ian?”

  Just then my cell rang and I answered it without bothering to first check the number. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

  I sat up. “Mom. Why are you home?”

  “Answer my question.”

  “I, uh. I needed some air. Yeah . . .”

  “Blake Edwards Ehlert. You better get yourself home now.” The line went dead.

  “Crap on a stick,” I muttered.

  I got up and smoothed the covers of John’s bed. Then I made my way downstairs and scribbled a note for Ian on the sheer chance that he might actually return and find it. I locked the door and returned the key under the mat. Then I got in my car and drove home to face my mother.

  October 30

  “I said I don’t want to hear it.” Mom covered her ears as I trailed her into the kitchen.

  “You don’t want to hear what?” my father asked from behind the newspaper.

  Mom poured a cup of coffee and took a sip, wincing as the hot liquid burned its way down her throat. She fanned her mouth, a look of irritation on her face. “She claims she doesn’t feel well. Again.”

  My father lowered his paper and studied me. “Well, she is looking a bit rough around the edges this morning.”

  “Thanks a lot, Daddy. Just what every girl wants to hear.”

  He looked wounded. “I’m only trying to help your case here, Blake.”

  “She isn’t staying home, Bill. If Blake doesn’t get back on track, and soon, she won’t graduate with the rest of her class. And after that stunt she pulled yesterday . . .”

  “I told you I needed air. Besides, it’s not even the end of October yet. Graduation is a million years away.”

  Mom huffed. “It most certainly is not.”

  I slumped into a chair. “But I have a bad headache. And I think I have a fever.”

  “Come here,” she ordered. Her hand went immediately to my forehead. “You do not have a fever. You’re cool as rain. Cold, in fact.”

  “Which means I should stay home in bed.”

  She gave me a calculating glare. “Does the fact that you want to stay home have anything to do with John? Maybe you two want to skip school together?”

  “What? No!” I glanced at my father, who had lowered the newspaper once again, suddenly interested in the conversation now that it had something to do with a boy.

  “Because if it does,” my mother continued, “if you’re staying home from school just so you can hook up with John behind our backs . . .” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. “I really do like him, but I am not ready to be a grandmother. At least tell me you’re being careful.”

  I put up both hands to stop her. “Whoa! Just what the heck are you getting at? Not to mention, look at me!”

  My father cleared his throat and rose abruptly, scraping the legs of the chair against the floor. He checked his watch. “I’m going to be late for work.” He planted a kiss on the top of my head and then gave my mom a quick peck on the cheek.

  When my father had cleared the room, I turned on my mom. “I am not having sex with John, or anyone for that matter. And it hurts my feelings that you would automatically go there. Don’t you trust me?”

  “You’re a teenage girl, Blake. He’s a teenage boy. Every parent’s mind goes there whether they want it to or not. Just wait until you have kids. You’ll understand.”

  “I’m not ever having kids.” Mom raised a brow but didn’t say anything. “So does that mean I can stay home?”

  “No, it does not. If you insist on not going to school today, you can grab your books and head to the office with me. But you’d better hurry.”

  “What? Why do I have to go with you?”

  Mom closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to win this argument. “Blake, I have a stinking suspicion you’re doing something you’re not supposed to be doing. I don’t have time to worry about you today, so go get your things and meet me in the car. End of discussion.”

  “Fine!” I stormed out of the kitchen and grabbed my bulging backpack sitting on the foyer bench.

  I grew increasingly antsy wondering about John at the Abernathy mansion. How long would he last without any blood? He’d never told me how long vampires could go without tossing one back, but I didn’t think it was more than a few days. And how would I track down Ian with my mom holding me hostage in her office all day? If Josiah was right, I had less than a day left.

  Wait a minute. There were two vampires who could tell me about John easily enough. I rushed outside and met my mom at the car. “I changed my mind. I’m going to school.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. “If you’re tricking me, Blake—”

  “I’m not!”

  I held my breath as she stared at me. “Are you sure? Because I’m tired of playing games.”

  It had begun to mist and I pulled up the hood of my coat. “Yeah. I mean, you’re right. If I miss too much school, I might not graduate. I couldn’t stand another year there.”

  Mom’s expression softened. “At least try to make it through lunch. If you’re still feeling poorly by then, give me a call and I’ll excuse you. But you’ll have to come straight to the office. No more playing hooky!”

  “Okay. Thanks, Mom.” I leaned in and gave her a quick hug.

  I went through the motions until third-period Art, which seemed to take forever getting there. As soon as Margaret walked into the room, I grabbed her arm and pulled her to the far corner. We stood partially hidden behind a shelving unit with students’ failed pottery projects on display. We got a few strange looks, but I had gotten used to that by now.

  “Blake Ehlert. How are you today?”

  I leaned in close and hissed at her, “Cut the small talk, Margaret. I want to know about John.”

  She held up her hand, pretending to examine her cuticles or a chipped nail or whatever. “Can you please be more specific?”

  I waved my hand in front of her face so that she would be forced to look at me. I so didn’t have time for this. “How is he?”

  She leaned in with a slight smile so that our faces were an inch apart. “Not well at all. The young ones are always so hungry.”

  “But I don’t know where Ian is!” I whispered back, my voice pitching higher.

  Her blue eyes stared deep into mine. “Then find him.”

  Hysteria was building up and threatening to bubble out. “But how am I supposed to find him if I don’t know where he is?”

  “Ladies,” the teacher called. “Ladies. Please take your seats. The bell’s already rung.”

  I reluctantly trudged back to my table and checked my phone for any missed calls from Ian, but there were none. There was a text from Zach asking again about the dance, and one from Olivia who wanted to know if I wanted to go to Starbucks after school. Apparently there was this “really cute guy” who had made her a Caramel Macchiato the other day and she was thinking about asking him out. I ignored them both.

  Margaret slipped out at the end of class before I had a chance to talk to her again, but I figured I might have better luck with her brother, Thomas. He was friends with one of the girls on my squad and had always been really nice to me. Luckily, we both had lunch fourth period. The only problem was so did Gabe, and he homed-in on me the moment I walked through the cafeteria doors.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he said as I attempted to scoot past.

  “Move,” I said, not making eye contact. “I don’t have time for your crap today.”

  He stepped in
front of me, preventing me from going anywhere. “Oh, my God. You really have gone crazy. Hey, get a load of this!” He waved to get the attention of some of the other football jocks. They’d all turned on me once they found out I broke up with Zach, never mind the fact most of us had known each other since elementary school.

  Gabe yanked me to his chest and pulled my hair away from my face to expose the tattoo on my neck. I’d completely forgotten to put the bandage on this morning. No wonder my teachers had been giving me odd looks all morning long and asking if everything was okay.

  I struggled against him. “What do you think you’re doing? Get your hands off me!”

  Gabe’s grip tightened and he shoved me ahead of him, parading me from table to table as if I were some side-show freak. People stared and whispered and outright laughed in my face. Zero tolerance for bullying, my foot! Where was a teacher when you really needed one?

  “Let go!” I continued to struggle and tried to ground my heel into his foot, which only made Gabe angry. He shook me until my teeth rattled.

  “She said to let go.”

  My head whipped around. Thomas.

  “Piss off,” Gabe said.

  Without warning, Thomas picked up an empty chair and slammed it so hard into the floor its metal legs buckled. If people weren’t staring at us already, that definitely got their attention. Thomas, despite being much smaller than Gabe, took a step toward us. “Go ahead and tell me to piss off again. I dare you.”

  Gabe’s grip on me slackened. “Oh, yeah? And just who the hell do you think you are?”

  Thomas came even closer. “No one you want to mess with.”

  Gabe laughed, though somewhat uncertainly. “You’re that weirdo’s brother aren’t you? I say that makes you weird by default.”

  Thomas bared his fangs. “Let go.”

  Gabe’s eyes widened and he took a small step back, dragging me with him. “Stay out of it, you asshole freak!”

  Thomas’s lips parted in a nasty snarl. “I’m giving you exactly one more chance.”

  All of a sudden, Gabe let go and pushed me from behind, sending me careening into Thomas’s chest. “You doing him, too?” Gabe yelled, loudly enough so that everyone could hear.

  Thomas steadied me, and I rounded on Gabe. I was too angry to even cry. “You’re the biggest jerk ever! The smartest thing Olivia ever did was break up with you.”

  Gabe pointed a finger at me. “You leave Olivia out of this.”

  I smirked, gaining back some of my confidence. “Ah. Is the poor baby going to cry?”

  Thomas touched my shoulder and whispered into my ear. “Don’t antagonize him. I really don’t want to have to hurt him if he goes ballistic.”

  Without warning, Gabe lunged at Thomas. I barely had enough time to scoot out of the way. “You, hurt me? What’s a little ass pimple like you going to do?” He pushed Thomas’s shoulders so hard that he rocked back on his heels.

  Thomas’s hand snaked out and his fingers wrapped around Gabe’s thick neck. Everyone around us gasped and stood up to get a better look. Seriously, where was the administration in this school?

  “You really don’t want to get on my bad side,” Thomas said.

  Gabe’s eyes bulged and he made frantic wind-milling motions with his arms.

  “Holy crap, Thomas! What are you doing?” I hissed, grabbing at his arm.

  Thomas released Gabe, who doubled-over and began coughing so hard he vomited.

  “Come on,” Thomas said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “But what about—”

  “Don’t worry about any of that. I’ll have Margaret clean up the mess.” Thomas grabbed my hand and the two of us made a beeline for the exit.

  “Margaret? But how?”

  “Let’s just say my sister can be very persuasive.”

  We ran for the student parking lot, somehow managing to escape through the front entrance without anyone stopping us and demanding to see our hall passes. I jammed my key in the ignition and peeled out of the parking space, my back tires spinning and squealing on the wet pavement. Five minutes later we sat idling in a gas station parking lot.

  I turned in my seat to face Thomas. “What was that all about back there?”

  Thomas ran his hand through his black hair. “Sorry. I have a quick temper. It’s just that children these days have no respect.”

  “No offense, but I wouldn’t ever have guessed you had that in you.”

  Thomas looked me in the eye. “There are a great many things about me you would never guess.”

  We sat quietly for a few minutes listening to the rain coming down, and the rhythmic swoosh-swish of the windshield wipers. I blasted the heat as high as it would go and held my hands in front of the vents. My fingers were stiff with cold.

  “Thanks for helping me,” I said at last. “But isn’t this sort of a conflict of interest?”

  Thomas laid his hand on mine. “I’m helping you because you and John are my friends. And because he loves you.”

  Tears stung my eyes. “Does he really?”

  “I’ve known John for the past fifteen years. He’s always been very focused on what he’s good at. But then we came here, and there you were . . .” His voice trailed off.

  My head snapped up. “Wait a minute. John came here with your family?”

  He nodded. “Margaret found him in ’97 when we were living in Philadelphia. He was barely keeping himself alive. He was just a year into this new life, but his Maker had abandoned him.”

  My head swam. “Did you know who his Maker was back then?”

  Thomas shook his head. “John wouldn’t ever say. He hardly talked to anyone and never about the person he had once been or how he became one of us. June,” he said, smiling as her name rolled off his tongue, “took pity on him. But it was when John demonstrated real talent as a Compeller that Father showed an interest in him. John became part of the family.”

  “The Family,” I said. “You make it sound like the mafia.”

  “Not a far cry from it. Josiah Butler and Andrew Larsen are part of the family, too.”

  I pulled my coat tighter around me and shook my head, not wanting to hear more. I especially didn’t want to hear the names Andrew Larsen or Josiah Butler. “Have you seen him at all—John, I mean—since Josiah brought him to your father?”

  Thomas nodded and looked at me, a pained expression on his face. “You need to find Ian. John isn’t going to last much longer if he doesn’t get any blood. He’s much too young.”

  My heart ached like it was being ripped out of my chest. “But I don’t know how.”

  “It’s possible that Ian will find you. The bond between Maker and Vampire—”

  “Is a strong one. I know.”

  Thomas patted my hand. “I have no doubt Ian can sense John’s distress.”

  “You really think so?”

  Thomas nodded. “That’s why my father is withholding blood. He hopes Ian will reveal himself if he knows John is in danger. But it’s a risk. John is very good at what he does and much too valuable to lose. Right now it’s a waiting game.”

  Just then my phone vibrated in my pocket, causing me to jump in my seat. I fumbled for it and it fell to the floor. Thomas scooped it up and handed it over.

  “I don’t recognize the number,” I said.

  “Maybe it’s Ian. Answer it.”

  It was Ian. “Where are you?” I said.

  “What’s going on, Blake? I’ve been trying to phone John but he’s not answering any of my calls. And then I went back to the house and found your note saying as how he’s been taken.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “At the house still. But I can’t stay here. I know they’re looking for me.”

  “Stay where you are. I’ll be there in ten minutes. I’ll explain everything then.”

  “Just tell me one thing, Blake. Is John okay?”

  “What do you think?” I said, and hung up the phone.

  October 30
/>   I used the key under the mat and found Ian pacing the living room. “Who’s he?” he demanded at once, thrusting his chin at Thomas.

  “A friend.” Ian had the look of a caged animal, and I knew I would lose control of the situation if I didn’t rein him in, and quickly. “You need to come with us.”

  “Not until you tell me where John is.”

  “He’s with my father,” said Thomas. “Conrad Abernathy. Maybe you’ve heard of him?”

  Ian stopped pacing and took a step toward Thomas, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He turned an accusing glare on me. “And ye call him friend?”

  I touched Ian’s arm. “Do you care about John?”

  He looked at me as if I’d sprouted two heads or spoken in tongues. “How can ye ask such a thing? Of course I care for John. I love him, same as he loves you!”

  “Then you have to come with us. Turn yourself in, Ian. It’s the only way they’ll release John and the only way they’ll turn me.”

  Ian’s eyes darted back and forth as he contemplated the fact that he really had no choice in the matter.

  “You have the chance to save two lives,” Thomas said.

  Ian backed into the wall and ran his hands through his hair, making it stand on end as though he’d been zapped by a surge of electricity. “And what about me? What’ll happen to me?”

  I couldn’t answer him; I honestly didn’t know.

  “Christ,” he said at my silence.

  All of a sudden, he came to me and cupped my face in his two hands. Thomas made a move to intervene but Ian rounded on him. “I’m not going to hurt her, so you can just back the hell off.”

  Thomas put up his hands. “Okay.”

  “Will ye forgive me?” he asked, only after Thomas had moved away. “If I’m to die this day, I need to know that you forgive me for what I’ve done.”

  I covered his hands with my own and searched his eyes, deep and fathomless. “I forgive you.”

  He pulled me in a tight hug, and I felt a shudder of relief, or maybe fear, run through his body. “All right, then. Let’s go.”

  The ride to the Abernathy mansion seemed to take forever. I thought Ian would tap a hole into the floor of the car just getting there. But as I turned into the long, winding driveway, Ian went suddenly rigid. I reached over and put my hand on his leg, and his throat moved as he swallowed.