I finally looked up. In our conversations, Adrian wasn’t usually the one accusing me of being ridiculous. “Oh? So I am like Rose and Dimitri?”
“No. No more than I am. And, if memory serves, someone told me recently it was useless trying to be like other people. That you should only try to be yourself.”
I scowled at having my words thrown back at me. “This isn’t the same situation at all. I’m talking about taking care of myself, not impressing someone.”
“Well, there’s your other problem, Sage. ‘Taking care of yourself.’ These encounters you’ve had—Strigoi, crazy guys with swords. Those aren’t exactly normal. I don’t think you can really get down on yourself for not being able to fight back against those kinds of attacks. Most people couldn’t.”
“I should be able to,” I muttered.
His eyes were sympathetic. “Then learn. That same person who likes giving me advice once told me not to be a victim. So don’t be. You’ve learned how to do a million other things. Learn this. Take a self-defense class. Get a gun. You can’t be a guardian, but that’s not the only way to protect yourself.”
A cluster of emotions boiled within me. Anger. Embarrassment. Reassurance. “You’ve got a lot to say for a drunk guy.”
“Oh, Sage. I’ve got a lot to say, drunk or sober.” He released me and stepped away. I felt oddly vulnerable without him near. “What most people don’t get is that I’m more coherent like this. Less chance for spirit to make me crazy.” He tapped the side of his head and rolled his eyes.
“Speaking of which… I’m not going to give you any lectures about that,” I said, glad to shift the topic from me. “Lunch with your dad sucked. I get it. If you want to drown that out, it’s fine. But please, just keep Jill in mind. You know what this does to her—not now, maybe, but later.”
The ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. “You’re always the voice of reason. Just try listening to yourself once in a while.”
The words were familiar. Dimitri had said something similar, that I couldn’t take care of others without taking care of myself first. If two people as wildly different as Adrian and Dimitri had the same opinion, then maybe there was something to it. It gave me a lot to think about when I returned to Amberwood later.
One of the good things about Adrian’s intoxication was that Jill hadn’t been able to witness our talk. So the next day over lunch when I gave Jill, Eddie, and Angeline a recap of what had happened, I was able to edit the story and leave out my own breakdown. Jill and Angeline’s reactions were about what I expected. Jill was concerned and kept asking over and over if Sonya and I were okay. Angeline regaled us with tales of all the things she would’ve done to the attackers and how, unlike Dimitri, she would have chased them through the streets. Eddie was quiet and didn’t say much until the other two had left, Angeline back to her room and Jill to get ready for class.
“I thought something was wrong with you today,” he said. “Especially at breakfast, when Angeline called a tomato a vegetable and you didn’t correct her.”
I managed a half smile at his joke. “Yeah. Well, it’s the kind of thing that sticks with you. I mean, maybe not for you guys. Random sword attacks in dark alleys are normal for you, right?”
He shook his head, face serious. “You can’t ever take any attack in stride. People who do get careless. You have nothing to feel bad about.”
I’d been stirring some sketchy looking mashed potatoes and finally gave up. “I don’t like being unprepared. For anything. Don’t get me wrong—I’ve been there when you and Rose fought Strigoi. I was helpless then too… but that’s different. They’re larger than life… beyond a human’s scope. I don’t really expect myself to be able to fight then. But what happened last night—even with the sword—was only one step away from a mugging. Mundane. And they were human, like me. I shouldn’t have been so ineffectual.”
“Do you want me to teach you some tricks?” he asked kindly.
That brought my smile back. “What you do is a little larger than life too. Maybe I’d be better doing something a little more suited to my level. Adrian said I should get a gun or take a self-defense class.”
“That’s good advice.”
“I know. Scary, huh? The Alchemists do gun-training, but I’m not a fan. I do pretty well at classes and theory, though.”
He chuckled. “Very true. Well, if you change your mind, let me know. After working with Angeline, I’m ready for anything. Although… to be fair, she’s backed off a little.”
I thought back to my last real conversation with her. Her fight and suspension had only been yesterday but felt like years ago. “Oh. I sort of had a talk with her.”
“What kind of talk?” he asked, surprised. “I told you not to worry about my personal life. It’s my problem.”
“I know, I know. But it just kind of happened. I told her that her behavior was out of line and that she needed to stop. She was pretty mad at me, though, so I wasn’t sure if it had gotten through.”
“Huh. I guess it did.” The next words obviously were a big concession. “Maybe she’s not as bad as I thought.”
“Maybe,” I agreed. “And look at it this way. At least her suspension means you don’t have to worry about her at the dance.”
From the way his face lit up, it was clear he hadn’t realized that yet. A few moments later, he toughened up again. “If there are attacks going on like this, I’m going to have to be extra cautious with Jill—especially at the dance.” I hadn’t thought there was any way Eddie could be more cautious, but probably he’d prove me wrong. “I kind of wish Angeline was going.”
Most of my classes were distracting enough to keep me from thinking too much about last night, but Ms. Terwilliger’s independent study was different. It was too quiet, too low-key. It gave me a lot of time in my own head, bringing back all the fear and self-doubt I’d been trying to ignore. For once, I copied and notated the spells without really memorizing them. Usually, I couldn’t help myself. Today, my mind wasn’t there.
We were almost halfway through the period when I finally tuned in enough to really process what I was working on. It was a spell from Late Antiquity that allegedly made the victim think scorpions were crawling on him or her. Like so many of Ms. Terwilliger’s spell books, the formula was convoluted and time consuming.
“Ms. Terwilliger?” I hated to ask anything of her, but recent events weighed too heavily on me.
She looked up in surprise from her paperwork. After the cold war we’d entered into, she’d grown used to me never speaking unless spoken to. “Yes?”
I tapped the book. “What good are these so-called offensive spells? How would you ever use them in a fight when they require concoctions that take days to prepare? If you’re attacked, there’s no time for anything like that. There’s hardly any time to think.”
“Which one are you looking at?” she asked.
“The scorpion one.”
She nodded. “Ah, yes. Well, that’s more of a premeditated one. If you’ve got someone you don’t like, you work on this and cast it. Quite effective for ex-boyfriends, I might add.” Her face grew distracted, and then she focused back on me. “There are certainly ones that would be more useful in the kind of situation you’re describing. Your fire charm, if you recall, had a lot of prep work but could be used quite quickly. There are others that can be cast on extremely short notice with few components—but as I’ve said in the past, those types require considerable skill. The more advanced you are, the less you need ingredients. You need a lot more experience before you’re at a level to learn anything like that.”
“I never said I wanted to learn anything like that,” I snapped. “I’m just… making an inquiry.”
“Oh? My mistake. It almost sounded like you were, dare I say, interested.”
“No!” I was grateful that the healing magic in my tattoo had cleared up most of the bruising on my face from last night. I didn’t want her to suspect that I might have serious motiva
tion for protection. “See, this is why I never say anything in here. You read too much into it and just use it to further your agenda to torment me.”
“Torment? You read books and drink coffee in here—exactly what you’d be doing if you weren’t here.”
“Except that I’m miserable,” I told her. “I hate every minute of this. I’m almost ready to stop coming and risk the academic fallout. This is all sick and twisted and—”
The last bell of the day cut me off before I said something I’d regret. Almost immediately, Trey appeared in the doorway. Ms. Terwilliger began packing up and looked over at him with a smile, as though everything in here was perfectly normal.
“Why, Mr. Juarez. How nice of you to show up now, seeing as you couldn’t make it to my class this morning.”
Looking back, I realized she was right. Trey hadn’t been in her history class or our chemistry class. “Sorry,” he said. “I had some family stuff to take care of.”
“Family stuff” was an excuse I used all the time, though I doubted Trey’s had involved taking vampires on a blood feeding run.
“Can you, uh, tell me what I missed?” he asked.
Ms. Terwilliger slung her bag over her shoulder. “I have an appointment. Ask Miss Melbourne—she’ll probably explain it more thoroughly than I can. The door will lock behind you when you two leave.”
Trey sat down in a nearby desk and pulled it up to face mine while I produced our history and chemistry assignments, since I assumed he’d need the latter as well. I nodded toward the duffle bag he had on the floor beside him.
“Off to practice?”
He leaned over to copy the assignments, his dark hair falling around the sides of his face. “Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, not looking up as he wrote.
“Right. You only miss classes.”
“Don’t judge,” he said. “I would’ve been there if I could.”
I let it go. I’d certainly had my fair share of weird personal complications come up before. While he wrote, I turned on my cell phone and found I had a text message from Brayden. It was one word, a record for him: Dinner?
I hesitated. I was still worked up over last night, and although Brayden was fun, he wasn’t the comfort I needed right now. I texted back: Not sure. I’ve got some work to do tonight. I wanted to look up some self-defense options. That was the reassurance I needed. Facts. Options. Brayden’s quick response followed: Late dinner? Stone Grill at 8? I considered it and then texted back that I’d be there.
I had just set down my phone when another text message buzzed. Unexpectedly, it was from Adrian. How r u feeling after last night? Been worried about u. Adrian was articulate in e-mail but often resorted to abbreviations in texts—something I could never bring myself to do. Even reading it was like listening to nails on a chalkboard for me, yet something touched me about his concern, that he was worried about my well-being. It was soothing.
I wrote back: Better. I’m going to find a self-defense class. His response time was nearly as fast as Brayden’s: Let me know what u find. Maybe I’ll take one 2. I blinked in surprise. I certainly hadn’t seen that coming. There was only one thing I could send back: Why?
“Geez,” said Trey, closing up his notebook. “Miss Popularity.”
“Family stuff,” I said.
He scoffed and shoved the notebook into his backpack. “Thanks for these. And speaking of family stuff… your cousin. Is it true she was expelled?”
“Suspended for two weeks.”
“Really?” He stood up. “That’s it? I thought it’d be a lot worse.”
“Yeah. It nearly was. I persuaded them to go easy on her.”
Trey laughed outright at that. “I can only imagine. Well, I guess I can wait two weeks then.”
I frowned. “For what?”
“To ask her out.”
I was speechless for a few seconds. “Angeline?” I asked, just in case he thought I had another cousin. “You want to ask out… Angeline?”
“Sure,” he said. “She’s cute. And taking out three guys and a speaker? Well… I’m not going to lie. That was pretty hot.”
“I can think of a lot of words to describe what she did. ‘Hot’ isn’t one of them.”
He shrugged and moved toward the door. “Hey, you’ve got your turn-ons, I’ve got mine. Windmills for you, brawling for me.”
“Unbelievable,” I said. Yet, I wondered if it really was. I supposed we did all have our own “turn-ons.” Trey’s lifestyle was certainly different from mine. He was devoted to his sport and always had bruises on him from practice, even now. They were more severe than usual. I couldn’t understand his passions any more than he could understand my love of knowledge. My phone buzzed again.
“Better get back to your fan club,” said Trey. He left, and a strange thought occurred to me. Were all of Trey’s recent bruises really from sports? He kept making a lot of references to his family, and I suddenly wondered if something far more insidious than I’d suspected was keeping him away. It was a troubling idea, one I didn’t have a lot of experience with. Another buzz from the phone pulled me out of my worries.
I checked the phone and found another text from Adrian—a long one that spanned two messages. It was a response to my question about him taking a self-defense class.
It’ll give me a reason to avoid S&D. Besides, u aren’t the only one who might need protection. Those guys were human and knew S was a vampire. Maybe vampire hunters r real. Ever think Clarence might be telling the truth?
I stared at the phone in disbelief, processing Adrian’s words and the implications of last night’s attack.
Ever think Clarence might be telling the truth?
No. Until that moment, I hadn’t.
CHAPTER 12
WHEN I SHOWED UP for my dinner date, Brayden was sitting at a booth with a laptop. “I got here early,” he explained. “Figured I should get in some work. Did you get yours done?”
“I did, actually. I was researching self-defense classes. You won’t believe what I found.”
I sat down on his side of the booth so that I could use his laptop. Like usual, he smelled like coffee. I’d never get tired of that, I decided. I directed him to a website I’d found just before coming here. The site looked like one I could have made about ten years ago and had a lot of over-the-top animated images on it. Wolfe School of Defense – Malachi Wolfe, instructor.
“Really?” Brayden asked. “Malachi Wolfe?”
“He can’t help his name,” I said. “And look—he’s actually got a number of awards and commendations.” Some of the awards were even recent. Most were from at least a few years ago. “Here’s the best part.”
I clicked on a link entitled “Upcoming Classes.” Malachi Wolfe had a pretty busy schedule, but there was one promising part. He was holding a four-week class, starting tomorrow, that met once a week.
“This isn’t exactly the kind of instructor I’d had in mind,” I admitted, “but it starts right away.”
“Not a very long course,” added Brayden. “But it’d give you a good intro. Why the interest?”
An image of the alley flashed back into my mind, the figures in the dark and the helpless feeling as I was shoved against the wall. My breath started to catch, and I had to remind myself that I was no longer in the alley. I was in a well-lit restaurant, with a boy who liked me. I was safe.
“Just, uh, something I feel it’s important for a woman to learn,” I said. “Although… it’s open to men and women both.”
“Trying to sign me up?” At first I thought he was being serious, but when I looked up, he was smiling.
I grinned. “If you want. I was thinking of—my brother. He wants to do this too.”
“Probably best if I don’t. Although, I was going to take martial arts as a college elective.” Brayden shut off his laptop, and I moved back over to the other side of the booth. “Anyway, you’ve got a pretty tight-knit family. Not sure if I should force myself into that.”
“Pr
obably a smart idea,” I agreed, thinking that he didn’t know the half of it.
Dinner was good, as was our subsequent conversation about thermodynamics. Despite the compelling topic, however, I found my mind was wandering a lot. I had to keep tuning back into what Brayden was saying. The attack and Adrian’s offhand comment about vampire hunters had given me a lot to think about.
Still, we stayed at the restaurant for a long time. So much so that when we left, I saw it was completely dark. I wasn’t parked that far away—and not even in a remote spot—but suddenly, the anticipation of a walk alone in the dark made me freeze up. Brayden was saying something about seeing me at the dance and then noticed my reaction.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I…” I stared off down the street. Two blocks. That’s how close my car was. There were people out. And yet, I was choking up. “Would you walk me to my car?”
“Sure,” he said. He didn’t even think twice about it, but I was mortified the entire way. As I’d told Eddie and Adrian, I didn’t usually need help from others. Needing it for something like this was especially humiliating. Rose wouldn’t need an escort, I thought. Even Angeline wouldn’t. She’d probably beat up a few pedestrians on the way, just to stay in practice.
“Here we are,” said Brayden, once we reached Latte. I wondered if he thought less of me for needing an escort.
“Thanks. I’ll see you Saturday?”
He nodded. “You sure you want to meet there? I can pick you up.”
“I know. And I wouldn’t mind going in your car. No offense, Latte.” I gave the car’s side a comforting pat. “But I’ll have to drive my brother and sister. Easier this way.”
“Okay,” he said. The smile he gave me was almost shy, contrasting with his earlier confidence in academic topics. “Can’t wait to see your costume. I got mine from a theatrical company. Not an ideal reproduction of Athenian garb, of course, but the best I could find.”
The Golden Lily: A Bloodlines Novel Page 17