I shrug, for once not arguing with her over her Sunny the Innocent spiel. I just wish Mom shared her opinion. It’d make things a lot easier.
“So now I’m royally screwed,” I say. “I don’t want to incur the wrath of the Momster, but my life as I know it depends on this trip to England. I have no idea what I’m gonna do.”
“Hmm.” Rayne taps her finger on her knee in thought. “Well, why don’t I be you?” she suggests at last.
“Huh?” I scrunch up my eyes in confusion. “You mean like you go to England with Magnus?”
“Please. I wish. But no,” Rayne says, shaking her head. “What I mean is I can pretend to be the grounded you. And you can pretend to be the me that wants to go sleep over her friend Spider’s house. Then you can really sneak off to England.”
“You have a friend named Spider?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Is that a male friend or female one?”
“Um, well, a little of each, actually. Long story. But Sun, you’re missing the point here.”
I try to shake the image of the androgynous “Spider” and focus. “So,” I recap, “you’d be willing to sit home and play grounded me while I jet off to England to find the Holy Grail?”
Rayne shrugs. “It’s a sucky gig, I know. But I sorta feel responsible for getting you into this mess. So sure. I’ll be the grounded you.”
“Don’t you think Mom might catch on? I mean, it’d be ten thousand gazillion times worse if she figured it out. And then you’d get in trouble, too.”
“Hello? Earth to Sunny!” Rayne says, waving a hand in front of my face. “In case you don’t remember, we are so identical that a superpowerful creature of the night couldn’t even tell us apart. You think nearsighted, hippy-dippy Mom will have the slightest clue?”
I think about it for a moment. “You have a point.”
“Of course I do,” Rayne says, bobbing her head in enthusiasm. “It’s perfect. I’ll just act real boring and goody two-shoes and she’ll never know the diff.”
I have to bite my lip not to respond, reminding myself that she’s totally saving my life here and I need to cut her a little slack in the tact department.
“Okay, then. It’s settled,” I say. “Tomorrow morning, you tell Mom you’re staying with Spider and then once we’re in school we’ll switch clothes.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Rayne says, eyes shining. She loves stuff like this. She pauses for a minute, then adds, “Though I have to say I so wish I were going to be the one traveling to England with Magnus.”
I look over at her, surprised. “You don’t still have a thing for him, do you?” I ask cautiously, trying to sound casual.
Oh, please don’t say you have a thing for him, I mentally beg. That would so not be good.
My mind wanders back to our night. Magnus stroking the back of my hand. My body pressed against his. Our almost-kiss. I wonder what Rayne would say if she knew about my extracurricular Magnus activities. Would she be mad? If she’s still crushing on him, then I have a pretty good idea that she would be. And I don’t want to incur the wrath of Rayne.
My twin sighs, long and hard, and throws herself dramatically onto the bed. “Of course I do,” she moans. “He’s meant to be my perfect match. I mean, I don’t know if he told you, but they don’t just randomly hook up vamps and humans as blood mates. There are scientific studies and everything. It’s very complicated. And after all that, the Council decided that Magnus and I should be destined to spend eternity with one another. And now, because of a stupid, stupid mistake, he’s stuck with someone who doesn’t even want him.”
“I—” I start to protest, then bite down on my lower lip. Definitely don’t want to go there, Sun. “How do they determine blood mate compatibility?” I ask instead, trying to sound completely detached.
“DNA. Your DNA is compared to the vampire’s to determine compatibility,” Rayne explains. “You’d know this if you read my blog.”
“Yeah, yeah, read the blog, I know, I know,” I mutter. But inside I’m thinking something completely different.
Because one thing you may or may not know about identical twins is that they also have identical DNA. Which means technically, if Magnus and Rayne are perfect blood mates . . .
So are Magnus and I.
17
Swapping Spit with the Sex God
A mazingly enough, the next morning, things start off going exactly to plan. Rayne tells Mom about her sleepover at Spider’s and Mom makes offhanded comments like “Okay” and “Have fun.” She doesn’t even ask who or what a “Spider” is, thank goodness.
Nope, she’s way more interested in reminding me that I’m still very grounded. (Though she uses the phrase “resting at home until you feel better” instead of the G-word—something she must have read in the Hip Mama Handbook.) But whatever the terminology, the bottom line is the same: I’m to come home directly after school. I am not to pass Go. I am not to collect $200. (After all, I might use it to finance a big crack rock for breakfast, right?)
I try to act all agreeable and normal and non-druggie-like, which turns out to be more difficult than I anticipated, mainly due to my exhausted, bloodshot eyes refusing to open all the way in our bright, sunshiny kitchen. Bleh.
Luckily this morning there’s carrot and buckwheat pancakes sans garlic on the menu and I manage to wolf them down without puking. They do nothing, however, to stop the ravenous thirst for blood that’s been raging inside me since I first opened my eyes. You know how when you’ve got your period you crave chocolate like crazy? I’ve got that kind of craving for blood this morning, but times about a million.
I want blood. I need blood. I’d do almost anything to get it. Gross, I know, but what can I say? Hi, my name is Sunny and I’m a bloodoholic.
At one particularly low point, I find myself mesmerized by a particular vein in my mother’s neck. Imagine, here’s me, watching it, fantasizing about the delicious, syrupy blood flowing freely inside it. The vein pulses, almost as if it has a life of its own, and I envision sinking my teeth into it and just sucking away like mad.
Then Mom catches me staring.
“What?” she asks, touching her neck self-consciously.
“Nothing, sorry,” I say, dragging my eyes away from the tempting little pulse. I can’t believe I’ve just been caught eyeing up my mother like she’s a piece of prime rib.
I need serious help.
To prevent further embarrassment, I excuse myself and head to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I peer into the mirror. Wow. If I were my mom I’d think I was on drugs too. I look like crap. My face is even paler now—like Michael Jackson pale—and my lips are just as blood red. If I end up remaining a vampire for eternity, I’ll never have to restock on lipstick.
My eyes are dark and bloodshot and my pupils are totally dilated. I try squirting a little Visine in them, hoping it will do the trick, but I’m not sure it makes much difference.
And then there’s my teeth. But I don’t even want to get into that. It’d just freak you out.
At school I’m a walking zombie. Seriously, if I don’t get this vampire thing straightened out soon, I’m going to end up flunking out. There’s no way I can concentrate on what the teachers are saying in my current state. And I’m utterly unable to focus my eyes under the fluorescent lights, meaning I can barely read the pop quiz questions from English class.
When the final bell rings, I’m thankful to head to the girls’ locker room, where I’m supposed to meet Rayne to change clothes and start The Great Identical Twin Switcheroo.
Unfortunately, before I can make it to the girls’ only haven, I’m stopped by a boy.
Not just any boy, however. I’m stopped by Jake. Jake Wilder, to be exact.
My heart flutters a little as he steps in front of me, his dark, brooding eyes raking over my body like I’m some gourmet dessert and he hasn’t eaten in a week.
He wants me. Badly. His desire radiates from him.
I shiver.
“Sunny,” he cries, his normally deep, velvet voice sounding a little hoarser than usual. “Where have you been?”
I cock my head in confusion. What is he talking about? I’ve been at school. Like always. “Um, hi, Jake,” I say, a little warily. “What do you mean, where have I been?” I steal a glance at my watch. Magnus’s plane leaves in one hour and I’ve got to change clothes first. But I can’t exactly blow off the Sex God, now can I? After all, what if he has some important prom thing he needs to ask me about? Like what color my dress is so he can get a matching cummerbund, or something.
Crap. That reminds me—I don’t have a dress yet! Haven’t exactly had any time to shop for one. You know, this vampire stuff is really wreaking havoc on my everyday schedule.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. It’s weird, but . . .” Jake runs a hand through his already seemingly tousled hair. Honestly, he looks a little ill. But then again, I look like death warmed over, so I’m really not one to talk. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Even when I’m sleeping . . .” He pauses, red-faced. “I have these dreams where you—”
“Okay, Jake,” I interrupt, putting a hand over his mouth. “We’re headed deep into TMI territory here.” Even though secretly I would love to hear about Jake Wilder’s erotic dreams, especially if they involve me, I think I might regret it in the long run . . .
Suddenly, without any kind of warning, Jake grabs me by the waist and pulls me close to him, covering my surprised mouth with a deep kiss. For a moment I can’t breathe. At first I think this is because I’m so turned on by the fact that I’m being kissed by a Sex God. Then I realize Jake’s crushing my rib cage.
“Mmhmm,” I protest.
Jake loosens his hold and his desperate, breathless kisses travel from my lips down my neck. I do my best to scan the gymnasium, hoping no one’s around to see us—I’m so not into PDA. Still, for Jake Wilder, I should probably make an exception.
As he nibbles on my neck, his hands rove up and down my back, almost clawing at me, as if he can’t get enough. I am so blown away that he’s doing this, I’ve been rendered speechless. I can’t believe Jake Wilder is groping me in the middle of our high school gym. If you had told me I’d be accosted by Jake Wilder in our gym a week before, I would have laughed and laughed and said things like, “Yeah, right” and “Good one!”
Then again, I probably wouldn’t have bought the whole vampire thing either. I’ve got a much more open mind now.
“You smell so good,” Jake whispers, his traveling lips now touring my ear. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Um, thanks?” I say, not quite sure what to do or how to react. I sneak another glance at my watch, then scold myself for doing so.
What am I doing? Who cares if I’m a few minutes late? Magnus is a thousand-year-old vampire. He has eternal life. So technically speaking, he’s got all the time in the world. And who knows how much longer I’ll be able to make out with Jake Wilder? I mean, once I turn into a human again, I assume he’ll go back to not acknowledging my existence. I’ve got to take advantage of his intoxication.
Then again, that’s kind of sick, isn’t it? I mean, how can I enjoy a make-out session with someone who’s not really into me—who just thinks he is? Suddenly, the kisses aren’t sexy. Just kind of gross. And sloppy too, now that I’m being honest. I mean, who really, at the end of the day, enjoys a slimy tongue jammed into her ear? Even if it is a tongue belonging to the resident school Sex God.
I gently push Jake away. “I’m sorry,” I say. “But I have to go.”
“Please don’t go!” he begs, his deep, soulful eyes boring into my skull. Yikes. How hard is this? The man I’ve loved from afar for two years now is begging me to stay like some kind of lovesick puppy. “Sunny, I want you,” he says, reaching over to brush a lock of hair out of my face.
I take a step back, using every last ounce of willpower. “You don’t,” I say firmly. “You think you do, but you really don’t.”
Jake’s face crumples with a look of devastation. “How can you say that?” he asks.
“Sorry Jake, gotta go.” I pat him on the shoulder. “Things to do, people to see, you know how it is. I’ll catch you around though.”
Crushed Sex God nods desolately. “We’re still going to the prom, though, right?” he asks.
“Of course,” I say in my most reassuring voice. If once I reverse the vampire thing you still want to go with me, I add silently as I say my good-byes and head into the locker room.
And that seems to me a big fat “if.”
18
Leaving—on a Vamp Plane
Rayne is waiting for me in the locker room. “What happened?” she asks. “You look all bedraggled-like.”
“Jake Wilder happened.”
Rayne raises an eyebrow. “Ooh, Jake Wilder. Is that a good thing, then?”
“Sort of. I guess. Well, not really.” I lean against the nearest locker and sigh deeply. I’m so confused. “It was weird, actually. I mean, don’t get me wrong—I have no moral issue with Jake sticking his tongue down my throat, believe me. But still, the whole time he was doing it, I couldn’t help but think how he doesn’t really like me. How he’s just bewitched by the Vampire Scent thing and has no idea what he’s doing. And suddenly, the impromptu make-out session didn’t seem so exciting.”
My twin nods in sympathy. “Sorry, Sun,” she says. “I can see how that would suck. But hopefully you’ll be back to normal before you know it and then you can see once and for all if Jake likes you as a person. Who knows,” she adds, “maybe the vampire thing is just a coincidence and he’s really been pining for you from afar for years and has finally worked up the courage to talk to you.”
“Right. And maybe someday you’ll end up being an investment banker with a minivan, a husband who wears paisley ties, and three Gap kids.”
Rayne snorts. “Touché.”
“It doesn’t matter anyhow,” I say, pushing myself off the locker. “I’ve got to concentrate on my mission. Jake and his weird new obsession must wait. Turning back into a human takes precedence.”
I slip out of my jeans and tank top and hand them to Rayne. She in turn offers up a long black skirt and peasant blouse that reek of patchouli.
“Make sure you wipe all the goop off your face,” I remind her as she slips into my jeans, complaining how awful they make her thighs look. “Mom’s never going to buy the idea of me channeling Avril Lavigne.”
“I know, I know,” Rayne says. “Relax, will you? It’s going to be fine. We’re not going to get caught. You’ll get to England no problem, find the Grail, turn back into a human, and live happily ever after with dopey, puppy-dog Jake Wilder.”
“One can only dream,” I answer with a dash of dramatic flair. I pull the peasant blouse and skirt on and glance at myself in the mirror. This is not a good look for me. And Magnus, safe and sound in some very now-looking Armani ensemble, is going to have a field day.
Not that I care what he thinks, obviously.
After the clothes swapping and face washing, Rayne drives me to the airport where I’m to meet Magnus. I’m not very talkative on the way there, mainly ’cause I’m still very nervous about this whole thing. I mean, think about it for a second. I’m now leaving the country with a man I barely know, who incidentally happens to be an immortal creature of the night.
Not exactly your typical 7-Eleven Cherry Slurpee run.
All too soon, Rayne pulls up to the private hangar where Magnus says the coven keeps its jet. I had this strange idea in my head that Air Vampire would be a black plane with a blood-red interior. But I guess that would be too obvious, ’cause the real-life vehicle in question just looks like your typical, nondescript private plane.
I hug Rayne good-bye before exiting the car.
“Good luck,” she whispers. “Take good care of Magnus for me.”
“I will,” I say, getting that lovely guilty feeling back in the pit of my stomach. Maybe it’s just my thirst for blood. I hope Magnu
s has a good supply on board, ’cause I feel like I’m going to pass out from hunger.
I get out of the car and head for the plane. A man in a pilot’s uniform greets me with a friendly smile.
“Hello,” he says in a clipped British accent. “You must be Ms. McDonald.”
“Yup, that’s me,” I reply. “But you can call me Sunny.”
He gestures to the stairs leading up to the plane. “You may board at your convenience, ma’am.”
I glance around the tarmac. “Where’s Magnus?”
“Inside,” the pilot informs me. “He is taking a nap at the moment.”
Ah, that makes sense. I thought it seemed too early—too daylight—for him to be up and about. He must have holed himself up in the plane before dawn and made plans to wake up midflight, once the sun’s retreated from the horizon.
I head up the stairs, turning to give one last wave to Rayne. The nervous feeling starts nagging at my stomach once again. But I squash it and attempt to step confidently into the plane.
I forget my nerves completely when my eyes fall on the jumbo jet’s interior décor. Just like the coven, this place reeks of luxury. Decked out in gold and velvet, it’s a display of wealth that’s almost obscene. There are soft leather armchairs and ridiculously huge plasma TVs. Bottles of red wine (blood?) chilling in silver buckets and state-of-the-art laptops sitting on etched-glass desks. This is truly the Ritz of the airplane world.
“Please have a seat and fasten your seat belt,” the pilot says, coming up behind me. “We’ll be taking off shortly.”
I comply, still blown away by all the extravagance. Being a vampire sure has some perks. Then again, Mag is the next in line to be king. I wonder if the plane is available to all the vamps or just the ones in high places.
I switch on the television, delighted to find it has every movie under the sun. I pick a light comedy, eager to be distracted, and settle into my über-comfy seat. A minute later, I’m out like a light.
“Sunny?”
I open one eye, then the other, slightly annoyed at being disturbed from my slumber. Magnus is peering over me, a slight smile playing at the corner of his mouth.