“THANK GOD WE’RE FINALLY SEEING SIGNS OF spring,” Raquel said, opening our window to let in the breeze. “If I’d woken up one more morning and seen icicles, I swear I would’ve stabbed somebody with one.”
“Can you not talk about stabbing people, please?” I was curled on my bed, in the same pajamas I’d worn all weekend, flipping through one of Raquel’s back issues of Wired. It wasn’t very good reading—by this point she’d cannibalized virtually all the pictures for her art projects—but then, I wasn’t really concentrating.
Raquel pushed the magazine down so we were face-to-face. “Remember earlier this year?” she said, more quietly than before. “When I was the one hiding in this room, and you were the one who snapped me out of it? Well, take that and reverse it.”
“I don’t need to be snapped out of anything.”
“Bianca, get real. For the last month, you’ve been like some kind of zombie.”
Vampire, not zombie, I thought. That made me smile just a little. “I just need some time to—get my head together. Okay?”
“A couple of days, sure. A couple of weeks, even. But this? This has been going on for almost a month. Even your head should be together by now.” Raquel stood up and yanked my blanket off the bed. “Get up. Shower. You smell like funk.”
“I only skipped one day,” I grumbled.
“I don’t care how long it took the funk to get here. I only know there’s funk in my room, and it’s got to go.”
I didn’t actually think I smelled bad; Raquel was just desperate to get me to move. So I moved, obediently taking my shower and returning to find Raquel remaking my bed—even though she hardly ever made her own. She’d hidden the magazines. “I made some tuna salad,” she said as she snapped one of the sheets. “For lunch, we can have a picnic out on the grounds. Maybe ask Balthazar, Vic, and Ranulf. What do you say?”
“You want to have a picnic?” She shrugged. I said, “You are really, really not acting like yourself.”
“Neither are you,” Raquel pointed out. “Until we get things back to normal, I’m stuck being the perky one. I kind of hate being the perky one. So can you snap out of it already and come to the picnic?”
“Okay.” I’d have to eat sometime. Though blood was becoming a bigger part of my diet all the time, I still needed food.
“So, are you ever going to tell me what’s bugging you?”
“Probably not.” How could I tell her that I was upset over losing Lucas? As far as she knew, I’d lost Lucas almost a year ago—not last month. “Raquel, it’s not that I don’t trust you. I just—I don’t want to say any of it out loud. Like, I don’t even want to hear myself speaking the words.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “Let’s just get you outside.”
The five of us had our picnic lunch (Balthazar and Ranulf both chewing very carefully) on the grounds. One of Vic’s tie-dyed blankets served as our tablecloth, and we mostly made small talk about midterms and school gossip. Balthazar sat close by, our arms sometimes touching, and his presence reassured me.
Only once did the conversation swerve into dangerous territory. As Vic shook more potato chips onto his plate, he said, “Hey, nobody ever heard anything else about Courtney?”
“They said she went back home,” Balthazar said quickly. He was sticking to the official Evernight cover story for any missing vampire students—which was usually the truth, though not this time. “A few kids leave every year. It happens.”
“It’s just totally weird,” Raquel said. “Last year Erich, this year Courtney. I mean, I get why somebody would ditch Hell High, particularly with the whole ghost situation, but the school administration really doesn’t seem to care much. And how come it’s the most popular kids who take off? The rest of us manage to stick it out.”
“Courtney was not happy,” Ranulf said. “She was lonely. I could tell.”
Though I’d never thought about that before, I realized that Ranulf was right. I knew I couldn’t let anybody see me getting emotional about Courtney, so I leaned my head against Balthazar’s shoulder. He patted my back.
For her part, Raquel looked skeptical. “I don’t see why the gorgeous popular girl would be any lonelier than the rest of us.”
“Everyone is lonely,” Ranulf said, but he smiled. “We have to remember that life is to be lived one day at a time. You cannot worry about past or future. Happiness is in the now.”
Raquel laughed. “Vic has totally brainwashed you.”
Now that I thought about it, Ranulf did seem a whole lot more laid-back these days—and, yes, those were black Chucks on his feet. Instead of looking like a Christian martyr who had wandered out of some illuminated medieval text, Ranulf now dressed and moved almost exactly like a regular kid. He still talked strangely, but not so much that anybody would really notice. Most important, for the first time, he seemed to be happy. A year of rooming with Vic had done him more good than a decade of instruction at Evernight Academy ever could have.
“You should listen to the man, Balty,” Vic said, nudging Balthazar’s shoe with his own. “Carpe that diem.”
“I try.” Balthazar tried to sound enthusiastic but didn’t do a very good job. He hadn’t been much happier this month than I had; he’d taken the confrontation with Charity hard, as had I. I felt like a fool for trusting her because she looked so innocent and helpless—how much worse did that have to be for Balthazar? Not only had she chosen her tribe over him, she had become one of them: violent, ruthless, and cruel. With a single stroke of a knife, Charity had ended Courtney’s existence—not to mention my relationship with Lucas.
Maybe Raquel saw something melancholy in my eyes, because she quickly said, “It’s a really clear sky. We ought to do some stargazing tonight. Right, everybody?”
“Not tonight,” I said. “I promised to help Balthazar with a school project.”
“Okay,” Raquel said. “But we’re going to do it soon.”
I remembered how bored she was by astronomy and wanted to hug her for trying so hard.
The “school project” was actually playing video games—pure fun for me, but a difficult subject for Balthazar in Modern Technology. “You should be better at this,” I said, as my warrior neatly stabbed Balthazar’s on the screen for the dozenth time. “You’ve fought in some wars, right?”
“Plenty of them.” Balthazar scowled down at the controls. “It doesn’t make any sense to me, thinking of battle as a game.”
“Then think of it as fencing,” I suggested. “You know, moves you practice to get right. A role you play.”
“That actually makes sense.” He grinned and leaned back against the Modern Technology room sofa, and I felt very proud of myself. Then his smile changed, somehow becoming both softer and more intense. “Bianca, why are we still doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Hanging out all the time. Fibbing to our friends.” His dark eyes met mine. “Claiming that we’re together.”
“Well, because—” I realized I’d never even asked myself that question. I stared down at the floor, searching for words. “You’re still looking for Charity. That means you need an excuse to get off campus.”
“I don’t need an excuse to leave campus. I can come and go pretty much as I please. Our—whatever it is we’re doing, I don’t need it for that.”
“I guess we can stop if you want to.”
“I don’t especially want to,” Balthazar said. His voice was low.
“I’m—I’m going to get some blood, okay?” I got shakily to my feet and went to the corner of the room that held the twenty-first century kitchenette. Several vampires stored a bit of blood in there for snacks between classes, as this was the only classroom no humans used, and I felt like I could use some blood to strengthen me about now.
I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t know what he was talking about, or that he had surprised me. Lucas and I—we weren’t together anymore, and it seemed impossible that we ever could be again. Balthazar had given me time to handle the loss, and now he wanted to know if things could be different between us.
Always I’d told myself that Balthazar was just a friend. I knew that I didn’t love him like I still loved Lucas; I didn’t know if I could ever love that completely again.
But I also knew that I’d come to rely on Balthazar this year. To trust him. At this point, he was probably one of my closest friends. And I’d never even pretended that I didn’t find him attractive. That would’ve been impossible.
No, I’d never felt anything for Balthazar that came close to the rush of passion that Lucas awakened in me, every time. But if I gave Balthazar a chance—
I remembered Lucas kissing me beneath the stars at the observatory, the longing for him so sharp it hurt. The memory overcame me at the same moment I reached in the cabinet for a glass and, in my distraction, I dropped it. The glass shattered with a crash, and something sharp jarred into my hand. “Owww,” I whined, pulling a shard from my bloodied finger.
Balthazar was at my side in an instant. “Ouch. But it doesn’t look too nasty.” He quickly collected the broken pieces of the glass and dropped them in the trash.
“No, I just need a bandage.” Then I thought—wait.
We stood close together, near enough that our bodies almost touched. Instead of turning on the faucet and holding my finger beneath the running water, I hesitantly held my hand up so that I nearly touched Balthazar’s face.
I’d caught him off guard; it seemed to take him a second to realize what I was doing. Then Balthazar wrapped his hand around my wrist and took my finger in his mouth, tasting my blood. He closed his eyes. The brush of his tongue against my skin made something inside me turn over, and my breath caught in my throat.
After only a second, Balthazar pulled my hand from his lips. The cut was only a pink line now. “Okay?” he said.
“Yeah.” I felt incredibly exposed. My blood had given Balthazar a glimpse into my mind; he would have just felt some of the emotions I was now feeling. I wondered if they were less confusing to him than they were to me. “What did you see?”
Balthazar still held my hand in both of his, his broad fingers enclosing my wrist. “Just some curiosity, that’s all. I didn’t taste nearly enough blood to really know you.” His voice was strangely rough. “When you finally share blood with someone, you’ll understand the difference.”
I remembered how I’d only gotten a hint of Balthazar’s emotions when I licked his finger the night of the Autumn Ball. There was more to it, so much more that I could hardly guess—the true mysteries of being a vampire.
This is what it means to be a vampire.
There had been moments I’d questioned whether I had to ultimately become a vampire, even if it was what I wanted. Now that I’d lost Lucas, I didn’t ever want to consider those questions again. I was sick of not knowing exactly what I was, how to behave, what to think. If I could make myself understand what it meant to be a vampire, maybe all those questions would just go away.
I looked up at Balthazar and whispered, “Drink from me.”
He didn’t move, but I felt the change in him—a kind of tension that electrified the air between us. “You mean, now?”
“Nobody else is coming in here tonight. We’re alone. We can do whatever we want.”
“That’s not what I meant.” The eagerness in Balthazar’s eyes made me feel weak, sort of scared but in a good way, like the moment before the roller coaster drops. He brushed two fingers against my cheek. “Bianca, are you sure?”
“I already told you. Yes.” But then my boldness seemed to desert me, because I didn’t have any idea how to go about this. “Do we just—do you—” Should I pull the neck of my shirt down my shoulder and just let him bite? Would he bite my hand instead? I didn’t know and felt stupid.
“You’ll want to lie down. Sometimes it makes you dizzy.” Balthazar squeezed my hand. “Couch?”
“Okay,” I said, tossing my hair like it was no big deal. Which was stupid, because it was a huge deal—and Balthazar and I both knew it—but I couldn’t seem to help myself.
My legs felt wobbly as we went, hand in hand, toward the sofa. Balthazar rummaged around in one of the cabinets and grabbed a couple of dark towels. The computer’s screen had gone into holding mode, so it was darker in the room now, but I didn’t turn on any lights. It was easier, I thought, having some shadows between us.
“You might want to—I don’t want to ruin your shirt,” Balthazar said, his voice hard and tight. He was already unbuttoning his cuffs.
“Oh. All right.” Fortunately I had a camisole on beneath my lacy blouse. I turned away from Balthazar as I unfastened it and lay it neatly on a nearby chair. Even though the camisole and skirt were more modest than anything I’d have worn to the beach, I felt incredibly undressed.
When I turned around, Balthazar’s shirt was off. I’d never seen his body before, and just looking at him—broad chest, sculpted shoulders, muscled waist—made me want to touch. In my nervousness I imagined that he was almost twice as wide as I was, that he could cover me completely.
I didn’t touch him; I didn’t do anything. Balthazar laid the towels on the couch. “Here. Lie back.” I did, adjusting my neck so that the towels would catch any blood, but I felt like I was moving in slow motion. Then Balthazar lay next to me, his body alongside mine. My heart was beating so hard I thought it could burst.
Balthazar brushed one hand through my hair and smiled gently. He sounded more like himself as he said, “Are you nervous?”
“Kind of,” I admitted.
“Don’t be. I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”
“The longer we wait, the more nervous I get.”
“Shh.” Balthazar kissed my forehead, then nuzzled his way down to the curve of my neck. The first brush of his mouth against my skin made me tense up all over. He stroked my arm and stayed there. I realized he was waiting for me to relax and get used to him being so close.
I’d never be used to this. The ceiling overhead seemed lower, like everything was closing in all around me. I knew that this wouldn’t turn me into a vampire—only drinking a human’s blood until the human died could do that—but all the same I knew I was crossing a line.
I forced my muscles to relax. Balthazar breathed in sharply and bit down.
Oh, oh, it hurts, it hurts! I gripped his shoulders, preparing to push him off me—but then it didn’t hurt as much, and I felt this deep, deep pull. It was the tide of my blood flowing into him. Though my body didn’t move, it felt as though I was rocking back and forth, back and forth, soothed and dizzy and eager for more.
The world seemed to fall away beneath me. It was like fainting, but wonderful instead of scary. Balthazar’s body next to mine was all I could hang onto, the only thing I knew.
His tongue lapped against my neck, the suction tickling me—until he drew back. “Drink,” Balthazar whispered. “Bianca, drink from me.”
I clutched him closer, buried my face against his shoulder, and felt the familiar ache in my jaw from my fangs. He smelled good, and his skin was smooth, and in one split second, I went from not knowing if I could bite him to knowing that I had to. My teeth sank into him.
The blood rushed into my mouth, burning hot, and instantly I was flooded with everything Balthazar felt, everything he saw. He tasted like longing, like loneliness, and the depthless need for comfort. Everything within me that understood loneliness bent toward him, shaping us together. The images that flickered in my mind were of me—no, not me, but someone so like me that even I could be confused—she had dark hair, and a long, full-skirted dress, and she ran through the autumn woods laughing, spinning in the falling leaves.
He loved her and wanted me to be her. I wanted to be her. I wanted to be anyone but myself.
And I tasted his desire—raw, hard physical need. Within my mind flashed veiled images and sensations, the knowledge of sex that he possessed and I lacked, or had lacked until now. My body responded to it, and then I felt him bite down harder onto my neck as he sensed my arousal in return. That made me want him more, and made him want me more, the feeling doubling in on itself over and over until I couldn’t bear it one second longer—
Balthazar pulled away from my neck, far enough that it broke my bite, too. Then he kissed me, not once but half a dozen times, each kiss frantic and sweet with blood. I kissed him back, gulping in breaths every time our lips parted.
“Bianca, say yes,” he gasped between kisses. “Say yes, please, say yes.”
I wanted to say yes. I was going to.
But as I looked up at him, I breathed out shakily—and realized I could see my breath. The chill in the air hit us both at the same time, and Balthazar’s eyes widened as he realized what I realized.
Frost began to streak across the windows and ceiling, and the blue-green glow flooded the room so brightly that I could hardly see. All I could hear was the cracking of ice. But none of that compared to what I felt.
It hates me, Raquel had said. It hates me. It wants to hurt me. I hadn’t understood what she meant until this moment.
The wraith was angry, and it had come for me.