Bleeding Hearts
Page 4

Anyway, I distinctly remember my mother saying that prom was a Neanderthal throwback to debutante balls that signaled young ladies were eligible for marriage. Now all of a sudden she’s talking about growing orchids in the greenhouse so I can have a pesticide-free homemade corsage. I told her if I had to do sun salutations every time I eat chocolate, she has to do them every time she brings up the prom or anything lame like that.
Any wonder I’m having so much fun having the crap kicked out of me by a vampire hunter?
A girl in a red ponytail was jogging around the track below us, smiling. If I wasn’t careful, that would be me. I felt the sudden need for a chocolate bar.
The sun was starting to sink behind a line of pine trees, leaving streaks of lilac and fire. The shadows were so long, they looked like dark fingers reaching out to touch everyone and everything.
“I should get home,” I said regretfully.
God. I was regretting having to leave Helios-Ra.
I had to get my priorities back in line.
Which would be easier to do if I could go over to the Drakes’ and hang out with Solange. But I had a curfew now, which sucked, and Solange was acting weird, which sucked more. And one of the many new rules implemented since my parents’ return was that my cousin and I had to be home before dark, period. If we wanted to go out after sunset, one of them had to drop us off and pick us up.
Never mind that I totally knew more about fighting vampires than my peace-loving parents. Or that Logan’s girlfriend, Isabeau, had given us two full-grown, trained Rottweilers to protect us, plus the Drakes sent their human bodyguards by a couple of times a night. I named them Van Helsing and Gandhi. The dogs, not the bodyguards.
We told Christabel that Violet Hill wasn’t safe at night, that there was some kind of gang war. It was easier than telling her the truth: that there were still too many Hel-Blar vampires in the area who were getting closer and closer to town. They were attacking livestock and, sometimes, people. They even freaked me out, and I’d grown up with vampires. They were feral, had a mouthful of fangs, and stank of rotten mushrooms and stagnant pond water. They didn’t know any logic or master but the hunger. An ordinary vampire had to bite you, drain you, and feed you their blood to change you. A Hel-Blar just had to bite you. Rumor had it their saliva alone was contagious, not just to humans but to other vampires as well. Regular vampires didn’t bite other vampires; it was considered revolting and in bad taste. Literally. Once a vampire had ingested human blood, it had no nutritional value to another vampire. It was just rude, however you looked at it.
So the Hel-Blar were definitely the uninvited guests at the party. We avoided them as best as we could, but that was becoming difficult. There were more of them than ever before, thanks to vampire politics gone wrong. But at least they mostly came out at night, even the older ones who could theoretically survive sunlight.
Which is why Christabel and I had a curfew now. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I could have gone to the Drake farmhouse. My curfew didn’t exclude me from visiting them.
But Solange did.
And frankly I was getting sick of her emo suffering.
If she was sulking, she could damn well do it with me in the room. That’s what best friends were for. And if she was feeling guilty because I’d gotten a tiny cut to the back of the head, she could just get over it. As soon as I was able to drive over there and thump some sense into her, I would. Right now we did all of our arguing through texts and e-mails. Hardly satisfying.
I tossed my damp towel into a laundry basket, grabbed my bags, and followed Hunter down the stairs. A few younger students passed us on their way into the gym. They stared at me like I was a museum exhibit. I only barely resisted the urge to yell “Boo!”
“What’s with them?” I asked Hunter.
“Are you kidding? You’re famous.”
“I’m famous?” She must be joking. The Drakes were famous. Hunter was famous for stopping a Helios-Ra teacher who’d been poisoning students. I was just the mouthy best friend. “Give me a break. You’re the one who took down a teacher.”
“Yeah, but you’re in with the royals even though you’re human.” Hunter shrugged as we hurried down the path toward the parking lot. I was running a little later than I’d thought. Cue parental breakdown now.
“Please. The Drakes were banned from court for, what, a century? Two? All of a sudden they’re a big deal? You’re dating one of them—you have to know it’s not good for them to think that.”
She grinned. “Yeah, Quinn’s ego doesn’t need the boost.”
“They will be completely insufferable if humans start acting like groupies.” I raised my eyebrows. “I am not a groupie,” I pointed out fiercely.
“I know.” She held up her hands placatingly.
“Okay then.” I rummaged around for my keys.
“You are the first nonstudent ever to be allowed on campus for classes in over fifty years, though.”
“Go me.” I unlocked the door and slid into the driver’s seat. “Heard from your grandpa yet?”
“No,” she replied quietly. “He’s still not talking to me.” He was old-school Helios-Ra and he just couldn’t stomach the fact that his vampire-hunter granddaughter was dating a vampire, Drake or otherwise. I felt bad for her. He was the only family she had. She just shrugged and tried not to look like it was bothering her. “Be careful,” she said.
“Always am.”