by Claudia Gray
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, abashed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I can take it.” He put both his hands on my shoulders. “We’re friends, right? That means I want you to be happy. I’d rather you were happy with me—”
“Balthazar—”
“—but I know it’s not always that simple.”
I shook my head. “No. It’s not. Because you’re the most amazing guy, and you ought to be the one I’m thinking about.”
“There’s no ‘ought to’ when it comes to love. Trust me on this.” His tuxedo shirt was brilliant white in the moonlight. Somehow Balthazar had never looked as handsome as he did when he was letting me go. “Is it that guy Vic? I see you talking to him sometimes.”
“Vic?” I had to laugh. “No. He’s great, but we’re just friends.”
“Then who?”
At first I was reluctant to tell him. Then I realized that I wanted to, because we really had become close friends after the past few weeks of spending time together. He always had time to listen, and he took my opinions seriously, even though I was younger and so much more sheltered than he was. Now Balthazar’s perspective meant something to me, too. “Lucas Ross.”
“The underdog wins a round.” Balthazar didn’t seem very pleased. Then again, why would he be pleased when I told him about some other guy I liked more? “I can see what you see in him.”
“You can?”
“Sure. He’s a good-looking guy, I guess.”
“That’s not it.” I wanted him to know what I truly meant. “It’s not like I haven’t noticed that Lucas’s attractive. But he’s the only person who understands what it’s like for me.”
“I could understand. Or I could try.” Balthazar glanced downward, and I realized that, as cool as he was playing it, this conversation was tough for him. “No more pleading. I promise.”
As gently as I could, I said, “You belong here, Balthazar. That’s why you can’t understand what it’s like for the rest of us who don’t.”
“You could belong here if you wanted to.”
“I don’t.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Then you’ll have some problems down the line.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Balthazar was trying to speak about the future, years and years away, and I didn’t want to think about that when things were confusing enough already. “I’m talking about high school. You’ve been around and seen the world. I don’t think you can realize how—how big this place is for me. How frightening it feels. If I let myself, I could fall into the trap of letting Evernight decide who and what I am. That’s not what I want. Lucas feels the same way.”
Balthazar considered that for a few seconds. Finally he nodded. I didn’t think I’d convinced him, but he’d heard me. “Lucas’s not a bad person,” he admitted. “Not as far as I know him, anyway. I’ve seen him stand up for students who were being picked on, and the things he talks about in class—he’s smart.”
I smiled. After weeks of doubting Lucas, it felt good to hear someone saying nice things about him.
Balthazar wasn’t done. “But he has a hot temper. You saw his fight with Erich, so you know that.” I felt guiltily grateful that Balthazar knew nothing about what had happened in the Riverton pizza parlor. “He’s defensive, too. I can see how Evernight might make somebody like him defensive, but that doesn’t change that he’s sometimes—”
“Volatile,” I finished. “Yes, I’ve seen it. I don’t know if we’ll ever get together, because of that. But you deserve to know what I’m feeling.”
“All I’m saying is, watch yourself. If he hurts you, get out fast.” He gave me a crooked smile. “Then maybe I can catch you on the rebound.”
I put one hand on his arm. “I should be so lucky.”
Balthazar kissed my forehead. He smelled like pipe smoke and leather, and I halfway wished I’d waited to say all this until after I’d gotten to really kiss him at least once. “Ready to go inside?” he asked.
“A few more minutes. I like it out here. Besides, you can see the stars tonight.”
“That’s right. You love astronomy.” He put his hands in his trouser pockets and walked alongside me as we continued into the woods, peering up at the constellations that winked through the leaf-bare branches overhead. “That’s Orion, isn’t it?”
“Yes. The Hunter.” I lifted one hand to outline the legs, the belt, the arm stretching upward to deliver a blow. “See the really bright star in his shoulder? That’s Betelgeuse.”
“Which one is it?” Probably Balthazar didn’t really care much about astronomy, but I thought he was relieved to have something to talk about besides his romantic disappointment. I knew how he felt.
“Here, lean down.” As he bent beside me, I guided one of his arms upward, so that his own finger pointed to the star. “Do you see it now?”
Balthazar smiled. “I think so. Isn’t there a nebula in Orion?”
“Yeah, halfway down. I’ll show you.”
A voice behind us said, “Bianca?”
We both whirled around. I’d recognized the voice immediately but hadn’t believed my own ears. Maybe hope was misleading me. But there in the darkness stood Lucas in his uniform. He was glaring—not at me, not even at us together, but at Balthazar.
I whispered, “Lucas, what are you doing here?”
“Making sure you’re okay.”
Balthazar didn’t like that. He straightened up. “Bianca is completely safe.”
“It’s late. It’s dark. You’ve got her out here alone.”
“She walked out here of her own free will.” Then Balthazar took a deep breath, obviously working to calm himself. “If you’d rather be Bianca’s escort, maybe that would be best.”
Lucas was clearly taken aback. He’d expected a fight, not resignation.
“I’ll come in with you,” I told Balthazar. Regardless of what we’d just talked about, or how I felt, he was my date. I owed him that.
But Balthazar shook his head. “That’s okay. I don’t feel like dancing anymore.”
Confused and embarrassed, I slipped off the tuxedo jacket, bracing myself against the cool air, and said, “Thanks. For everything.”
“If you need me, let me know.” As he shrugged his jacket back on, Balthazar shot Lucas a look, then walked back toward the school alone.
As soon as Balthazar had left us, I muttered, “That was completely unnecessary.”
“He was leaning over you. Looming.”
“I was showing him the stars!” I hugged myself, trying to stay warm. “Did you think he was about to kiss me?”
“No.”
“Liar,” I retorted.
Lucas groaned. “Okay, I was trying to keep him away from you. I couldn’t just watch that guy put the moves on you and not do something about it.” Then he took off his school blazer and offered it to me. It wasn’t as elegant a gesture as it had been from Balthazar—but then, from Balthazar it had been simple good manners, the kind of behavior that was part of being a gentleman. Lucas, I thought, was desperate to do anything to show that he could take care of me, at least a little.
I took the jacket from him and slipped into it. The lining was still warm from his body. “Thank you.”
“Shame to cover up the dress.” He looked me up and down, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.
“Don’t flirt with me.” Part of me wanted to hear Lucas flirting all night, but I knew that we had to have this conversation, now. “Talk to me.”
“Okay. We’ll talk.”
After that, of course, neither of us knew exactly what to say. Mostly to stall for time, I kept walking, Lucas by my side. We heard a rustling in the leaves far away, but then we heard giggling. Apparently other couples were sneaking out into the woods tonight. From the sound of things, they were having more fun than we were.
I finally realized I’d have to speak first. “You shouldn’t have said that about my parents.”
“I was out of line.” Luc
as sighed. “They care about you. Anybody can see that.”
“Then why were you being so weird about them?”
He considered that, clearly unsure how to answer. “We haven’t talked much about my mom.”
I blinked. “No. I guess we haven’t.”
“She’s kind of intense.” Lucas stared at his feet as we walked across a thick, soft carpet of brown pine needles. Nearby an apple tree was surrounded by fallen fruit that nobody had picked, each apple now brown and soft. Their sweet scent gentled the air. “She tries to run my whole life for me, and she comes pretty close.”
“I have a lot of trouble imagining anybody bossing you around.”
“That’s because you haven’t met Mom.”
“She’ll change as you get older,” I suggested. “I know my parents used to be a lot more protective than they are.”
“She’s not like your parents.” Lucas laughed, and the sound was strange for some reason I couldn’t define. “Mom sees the world in black and white. You have to be strong to make it, she says. As far as she’s concerned, the world only has two kinds of people in it: predators and prey.”
“That sounds—hard core.”
“Hard core is a good term for her. She has very definite ideas about who I should be and what I should do. I might not agree with her all the time, but, you know—she’s still my mom. What she says has an effect on me.” He sighed heavily. “That’s probably not much of an explanation, but it has a lot to do with how I behaved in Riverton.”
The more I thought about what Lucas was saying, the more I realized how much it explained. Lucas had assumed that my parents were trying to run my life because his mother always tried to run his. “I get it. I really do.”
“It’s cold.” Lucas took my hand. My heart fluttered faster. “Come on. Let’s get back to the school.”
We walked together toward Evernight, stepping out of the woods onto the grounds, where we could see the brilliant lights in the great hall and the silhouettes of dancing couples. I imagined the way this night might have gone if Lucas and I had never argued and he’d been my date to the Autumn Ball. It was almost too perfect to think about. “I don’t want to go inside yet.”
“It’s cold.”
“Your jacket is keeping me warm.”
“Yeah, but it isn’t keeping me warm.” He grinned at me. Lucas always seemed older than me, except when he smiled.
“Wait just a little,” I pleaded, tugging him toward the gazebo where we’d met. “We’ll keep each other warm.”
“Well, when you put it that way—”
We sat down in the gazebo, stars above clouded by the thick ivy, and Lucas put his arms around me. I lay my head against his shoulder. Just like that, all the doubt and confusion I’d felt for the past few weeks was gone. I’d been happy during the ball itself, but only because I’d forgotten myself in the whirl. This was different. I knew where I was—who I was—and I was completely at peace. Although I remembered all the reasons I’d doubted Lucas, when we were as close as this, I could trust him completely. I wasn’t afraid of anything in the world. It was safe to let go. Closing my eyes, I nuzzled my face into the curve of his neck. Lucas shivered, and I didn’t think it was because of the cold.
“You know I’m only looking out for you, right?” he whispered. I could feel his lips brushing against my forehead. “I want to keep you safe.”
“I don’t need you to protect me from danger, Lucas.” I slipped my arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. “I need you to protect me from being lonely. Don’t fight for me. Be with me. That’s what I need.”
He laughed, a strange, sad sound. “You need somebody to look out for you. Make sure everything’s okay. I want to be that guy.”
I lifted my face to his. We were so close that my eyelashes brushed his chin, and I could feel the warmth of body heat in the small space between our mouths. It took all my courage to say, “Lucas, all I need is you.”
Lucas touched my cheek, then brushed his lips against mine. That first touch stole my breath, but I already knew that I wasn’t afraid any longer. I was with Lucas, and nothing could ever hurt me.
I kissed him, and my dreams had told me the truth—I did know how to kiss Lucas. How to touch him. The knowledge had been inside me all the time, waiting for the spark that would make it catch fire and come alive. Lucas crushed me so hard against his chest that I could hardly breathe. We kissed deep and slow, hard and soft, a thousand different ways. All of it was right.
His blazer fell from my shoulders, exposing my arms and back to the cool night air. His hands slid upward to cover me, and I could feel his palms upon my shoulder blades and his fingertips on my spine. The feel of his skin against mine was so good—better than I’d guessed it could be—and my head fell backward as I sighed in delight. Lucas kissed my mouth, my cheek, my ear, my throat.
“Bianca.” His whisper was soft against my skin. Lucas’s lips were brushing against the hollow of my throat. “We should stop.”
“I don’t want to stop.”
“Out here—we shouldn’t get—carried away—”
“You don’t have to stop.” I kissed his hair and his forehead. All I could think about was that he belonged to me now, me and no one else.
When our lips met again, the kiss was different—charged, almost desperate. Lucas and I were breathing faster, not able to speak. Nothing in the world existed except him and the thrumming deep inside me, the one that insisted he was mine, mine, mine.
His fingers brushed the slim strap of my dress, until it slipped down my shoulder, exposing the very top curve of my breast. Lucas traced the line from my ear to my shoulder with his thumb. I wanted him to go further, to touch me in every way I needed to be touched. My mind was clouded, almost like I couldn’t think at all; there was only my body and what it demanded from me. I knew what I had to do, even if I couldn’t imagine it yet. I knew.
Stop, I told myself. But Lucas and I were past stopping. I needed him, all of him, now.
I took his face in my hands and pressed my lips softly to his mouth, his chin, and his neck. I could see his pulse throbbing just beneath the skin, and then the hunger was too much to hold back.
I bit into Lucas’s throat, hard. I heard him gasp in pain and shock, but in that moment the blood rushed over my tongue. The thick metallic taste of it spread through me like fire, hot and uncontrollable and dangerous and beautiful. I swallowed, and the feel of Lucas’s blood in my throat was sweeter than anything else I’d ever known.
Lucas tried to push away from me, but he was already weak. As he began to slump backward, I caught him in my arms so that I could keep drinking deeply. I felt as though I were drawing his soul into me along with his blood. We had never been closer than this.
Mine, I thought. Mine.
Then Lucas went completely limp. He’d passed out. That realization crashed into me like a wave of cold water, shocking me out of the trance.
I gasped and let Lucas go. He fell bonelessly to the floor of the gazebo with a thud. The wide gash my teeth had left in his throat was dark and wet in the moonlight, glistening like spilled ink. A small stream of blood trickled across the wood and pooled around a small silver star that had fallen from my hair.
“Help,” I choked out. It was hardly more than a whisper. My lips were still sticky and hot with Lucas’s blood. “Somebody, please. Help!”
I stumbled down the gazebo steps, desperate to find someone, anyone. My parents would be furious—Mrs. Bethany would be a thousand times worse—but somebody had to help Lucas. “Is anyone out there?”
“What is wrong with you?” Courtney stepped out of the woods, clearly annoyed. Her lacy white dress was rumpled, and I could see her date standing behind her; apparently I’d interrupted a hook-up session. “Wait—on your mouth—is that blood?”
“Lucas.” I was too deep in shock to even try to explain. “Please. Help Lucas.”
Courtney tossed her long blond hair and stepped up into the gazebo t
o see Lucas lying there, his throat ripped open. She breathed, “Oh, my God.” Then she turned back to me with a smug smile. “About time you grew up and became a vampire like the rest of us.”
Chapter Eight
“DID I KILL LUCAS? IS HE OKAY?” I SOBBED. I couldn’t stop crying. My mother’s arm was around my shoulder; I blindly let her lead me away from the gazebo. My father had run ahead with Lucas’s unconscious body in his arms. Some of the teachers were nearby, making sure none of the other students realized there was a disturbance. “Mom, what did I do?”
“Lucas’s alive.” Her voice had never sounded gentler. “He’ll make it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure.” We went up the stone steps, and I nearly stumbled over each one. My entire body was shaking so hard that I could barely walk. Mom stroked my hair, which had tumbled loose from its braids and hung limply around my face. “Honey, go up to our rooms, okay? Wash your face. Calm down.”
I shook my head. “I want to be with Lucas.”
“He won’t even know you’re there.”
“Mom. Please.”
She started to refuse, but then I saw her realize that there was no point in arguing. “Come on.”
My father had taken Lucas to the carriage house. When I first walked in, I wondered why there was an apartment in the carriage house, paneled with black-stained wood and hung with sepia-tinted photographs in old oval frames. Then I remembered that this was where Mrs. Bethany lived. I was too shaken up even to be afraid of her. When I tried to push into the bedroom to see Lucas, Mom shook her head. “Wash your face with some cold water. Take a few deep breaths. Pull yourself together, honey. Then we’ll talk.” Smiling unevenly, she added, “Everything’s all right. You’ll see.”
My clammy, trembling hands fumbled with the glass doorknob to the bathroom. As soon as I glimpsed my face in the mirror, I realized why my mother had kept telling me to wash my face. My lips were stained with Lucas’s blood. A few drops had been smeared across my cheeks. Instantly I turned on the taps, desperate to clean away the evidence of what I’d done—but as the cool water began flowing over my fingers, I found myself looking at the bloodstains more closely. My lips were so red, and they were still swollen from our kisses.