She shook her head, refusing to answer. But as she walked past me to go to her own room, she touched my arm—just for a moment. From Raquel, that was almost like a bear hug. I had no idea what troubled her in her past, but I knew that Erich had her spooked. Probably he had no intention of actually hurting her, but he seemed like the kind of guy who would enjoy making her afraid.
That, at least, I could do something about.
Later that evening, well after curfew, I got up and slipped into jeans, sneakers, and my warm black sweater. My black knit cap slipped over my head and hid my red hair. Briefly I considered painting black smudges across my cheeks and nose, like cat burglars do in the movies, but I decided that was overkill.
"Going out for a snack?" Patrice mumbled into her pillow. "The squirrels are hibernating. Easy meal."
"I'm just looking around," I insisted, but Patrice was already asleep again.
The night air was cold when I lifted myself onto the windowsill, but my dark gloves and sweater kept me from shivering. Once I'd balanced myself on the tree branch, I began stretching my arms to catch the higher limbs, then bracing my feet against the bark of the trunk to find purchase. Some branches creaked from my weight, but nothing broke. Within a few minutes, I had made it to the roof.
The roof of the lower part of the building, I mean. A few feet away, the south tower reached up toward the night sky; if I craned my neck, I could even make out the darkened windows of my parents' apartment. Across the way was the vast north tower. Between was the shingled roof of the main building—not a single flat surface, but one that sloped at different angles, reflecting the fact that the school had been built slowly, over centuries, and not every new addition perfectly matched the rest. It looked a little like a stormy sea with waves that jutted up and down, all of them gleaming blue-black in the moonlight.
Gritting my teeth, I crawled up the slope nearest me and made sure to move as quietly as I could. If anybody was out for a snack, it wouldn't matter if they saw me or not. However, if anybody was up here for another reason, I wanted the advantage of surprise.
I was scared to death, even though I kept telling myself that there was really no reason to be afraid. I knew that I was no good at confrontations; when challenged, I usually wanted to curl up into a ball. Still, somebody had to stand up for Raquel, and it looked like I was the only one who could. So I ignored the butterflies in my stomach and told myself to deal.
I tried to imagine the layout of the rooms below, doing my best to figure out where Raquel's room would be. She was well down the hall from me. The room I shared with Patrice was below the south tower, but Raquel wouldn't have that same luxury. No, somebody could stand right on top of her room, only a few feet above her sleeping head.
Once I had the location fixed in my head, I started walking. Fortunately there was no ice, so I didn't slip and slide too much as I climbed up one gable and down another, sometimes walking, sometimes crawling. The whole way, I listened carefully for any sound: a footstep, a word, even a breath. Even the thought of danger had awakened my darker instincts, and every sense was sharp. I was ready for anything—or so I thought.
When I got within a few feet of the area above Raquel's room, I heard a scrape along the roof: long, slow, and probably deliberate. Somebody was up there. Somebody wanted Raquel to hear.
Cautiously I pulled myself up the next high slope. There, crouching in the shadows, was Erich. He clutched a broken-off branch in one hand and was dragging it back and forth over one of the slate tiles.
"You," I said quietly. Erich jerked upright, startled. Something about his reaction and the way he hurriedly drew his long coat around him made me wonder just what his other hand had been doing. Grossed out and nervous, I wanted to run, but I managed to stand my ground. "Get lost."
"We're both breaking the rules now," Erich muttered, glancing from side to side. "You can't turn me in without turning us both in."
I stepped closer to him, close enough to touch. His skinny face and sharp nose made him look more like a rat than ever. "Then—then I'll turn us both in."
"Big damn deal. Breaking curfew. So what? Everyone does it. They don't really care."
"You're not out to grab something to eat. You're harassing Raquel."
Erich gave me the most disgusted look I'd ever seen on someone's face, like I was something he would step over on the sidewalk. "You can't prove it."
Anger flared up inside me, submerging my fear. All my muscles tensed, and my incisors began pushing forward, lengthening into fangs. Reacting like a vampire meant never backing down. "Oh, really?"
Then I grabbed his hand and bit him hard.
Vampire blood doesn't taste at all like human blood or the blood of anything else living. It's not filling, not even food, really. It's information. The taste of a vampire's blood tells you how that vampire is feeling at that very instant—you feel it, too, a little bit, and images flash in your mind that were in the other vampire's mind just a moment before. My parents had taught me this and even let me try it out on them a couple of times, though the one time I asked them if they ever bit each other, they both got really embarrassed and asked whether I didn't have any homework I should be doing.
Tasting my parents' blood, I had felt only love and contentment and seen only images of myself as a child prettier than I really was, curious to learn about the world. Erich's blood was different. It was horror.
He tasted like resentment, like rage, and a bone-deep craving to take human life. The liquid was so hot it burned and so angry that it made my stomach turn over, rejecting it and rejecting him. An image flickered in my mind, bigger and brighter every second like a fire blazing quickly out of control: Raquel as Erich wanted her to be—sprawled on her bed, neck ripped open, gasping for her last breath.
"Ow!" Erich wrenched his hand back. "What the hell are you doing?"
"You want to hurt her." It was hard for me to keep my voice steady; I was shaking now, freaked-out by the violence I'd seen. "You want to kill her."
"Wanting isn't the same as doing," he retorted. "You think I'm the only guy here who wants to tear into some fresh meat once in a while? No way could you get me punished for that."
"Get the hell off her roof. You leave tonight and you don't ever, ever come back. If you do, I'll tell Mrs. Bethany. She'll believe me, and you'll be out of here."
"Do it, then. I'm sick of this place. But I deserve a good meal before I go, don't you think?" Erich laughed at me, and for one horrifying moment, I thought he meant to fight me after all. Instead he leaped off the roof, not even bothering to catch a tree branch on the way down.
I'd never felt anything like that kind of sick rage before. I hoped I never would again. For all the pettiness and darkness of Evernight, I felt like I'd just seen true evil for the first time.
Do you believe in evil? Raquel had asked me. I'd said yes, but I hadn't known what it looked like before. Shaking, I breathed in and out a couple of times, trying to get my bearings. I'd have to think long and hard about what had just happened, but for tonight, I just wanted to get the hell out of here.
I took another couple steps and slid down the far slope of the roof, trying to get a look at where Erich had landed. I wanted to make sure he was leaving for real. But as I started down, I saw another shape in the darkness—like a shadow down in the deepest of the waves. Maybe Erich hadn't come alone.
"Stop!" I insisted. "Who is it?"
The shape stood up slowly, rising into the moonlight. It was Lucas.
"Lucas? What are you doing here?" As soon as I asked it, I felt stupid. He'd come up here for the same reason I had, to see if Erich was stalking Raquel. Lucas didn't answer. He was staring at me as if he didn't know me at all, and he took one step backward.
"Lucas?" At first I didn't understand, but then it hit me. My fangs were still sharp. My mouth was still wet with blood. If he'd crouched there for a couple of minutes, he would have heard me talking to Erich—he'd seen me bite him—
Lucas
knows I'm a vampire.
Most people don't believe in vampires anymore and wouldn't believe no matter how hard you tried to convince them. But Lucas didn't have to be convinced, not while he was staring a fanged, bloody-lipped vampire in the face. He looked at me like I was a stranger—no, like a monster.
Every secret I'd fought my whole life to protect had just been revealed.
Chapter Eleven
"Wait," I pleaded. My lips were still sticky with blood. "Don't go. I can explain!"
"Don't come near me." Lucas's face was stark white.
"Lucas—please—"
"You're a vampire."
I couldn't say anything else. My new talent for lying couldn't help me now. Lucas knew the truth, and I couldn't hide any longer.
He kept backing away, stumbling over the slate shingles, his arms jerky as he tried to steady himself. Shock had made him clumsy—Lucas, who always moved with purpose and strength. It was like he'd been blinded. I wanted to go after him to keep him from losing his balance and falling, if for no other reason. More than that, I was desperate to explain. But he wouldn't let me help him, not anymore. If I followed, Lucas would panic and run away. Run away from me.
Shaking, I sat down on the rooftop and watched Lucas make his way across the roof. He didn't dare turn his back on me until he was more than halfway to the north tower and the guys' rooms. By then, my arms were wrapped around my knees and tears trickled down my cheeks. I was more frightened and ashamed than I'd ever been in my life, even more than when I'd bitten him.
Had he already realized what had really happened the night of the Autumn Ball and that I had been the one to hurt him? If he hadn't, I knew he would soon.
What should I do? Tell my parents immediately? They'd be furious with me—and they'd also have to take action against Lucas. I didn't know what the vampires would do to a human who learned the secret of Evernight, but I suspected it wouldn't be good. Report this to Mrs. Bethany? Out of the question. I could try waking Patrice for advice, but she would probably shrug, readjust her satin eye mask, and fall back to sleep.
Now that the secret was out, all of those people were in danger. Lucas probably wouldn't tell anyone, for fear of being called insane; even if he did, nobody was likely to believe him. But the risk—that one chance that we could all be exposed—was terrible. And it was all my fault.
There had to be some way I could fix it. Something I could do.
I'll talk to Lucas. First thing in the morning—No, he has an exam first thing. It was so strange, even having to think about something as mundane as an exam in the middle of this. I can catch him after that. He won't want to talk to me, but he won't start yelling about vampires in the hall. So that gives me a chance, and if I can only figure out what to say—
Then what? I'd lied to Lucas. I'd hurt him. Maybe he was right to get as far away from me as possible.
Still, I knew I had to try. If I was in danger of losing Lucas forever, there was nothing I wouldn't do—plead, cry, or reveal every secret I'd ever had. I only knew that I had to make Lucas understand.
* * *
After a long, sleepless night, I got up, put on my black sweater and kilt, and went stiffly downstairs. I thought I'd timed it to the end of Lucas's exam, but apparently the students were being allowed to leave as they finished—and Lucas had finished early, according to some other guys in the class. That meant he was already back in his room, probably. Screwing up my courage, I sneaked into the guys' dorm area. Vic and Lucas had once pointed out their window from the grounds, so I could find the room if I just didn't get caught.
Would showing up in Lucas's room unannounced scare him to death? Maybe. I'd have to risk it. I couldn't take it any longer. The suspense was gnawing at me, turning me inside out. Even if Lucas told me never to come near him again, at least then I'd know. Not knowing was worse than anything.
I knew I'd reached my destination when I found a door decorated with two posters—one of Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo and another from something called Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!
Nobody answered my knock, so I hesitantly pushed the door open. No one was inside. Lucas's room smelled like him—spicy and woodsy, almost like being back in the forest. Half the room was covered in posters from action movies, guns and babes spilling out in every direction; this was the half with the bed that had a tie-dyed cover on it. In other words, Vic's half. Lucas's half of the room was almost bare. No pictures or posters hung on the walls, and on the small bulletin board that hung above everyone's bed, he had pinned up only his class schedule and a movie ticket—Suspicion, from our first date. An army surplus blanket covered his bed.
Apparently there was nothing for me to do but wait. Unsure what to do, I walked toward the window, which showed a stretch of the school's gravel driveway. A few cars were there, mostly parents picking up their kids on the last day of exams, taking them back home for Christmas. The human kids, of course. I watched people hugging, loading up luggage—and Lucas, striding out the front door with his duffel bag slung over one shoulder.
"Oh, no," I whispered. I pressed my hands against the window so hard that I thought it would shatter—or I would—but Lucas never hesitated. He went straight toward a long black sedan with tinted windows. The sedan's door opened, and I tried to get a look at who was inside, but I couldn't see anyone. His stripped-down half of the room made sense to me now. I knew immediately that Lucas had left Evernight for Christmas break without saying good-bye and that he probably would never return.
"Whoa, the rooms are going coed? That's made of awesome." Vic came in behind me. I gave him a wan smile before turning back to watch Lucas's car driving away. The car was speeding off as if they were in a hurry. "Good job sneaking in. You guys just said good-bye, huh?"
"Uh-huh." What else could I say?
"Don't get too depressed, all right?" Vic gave me a little punch on the shoulder. "Some guys know what to say to girls when they're upset, but man, I'm not one of them."
"I'm okay. Honestly." I studied Vic carefully. He was the only person at school that Lucas might have shared his suspicions with. "Has Lucas seemed…okay to you?"
"He turned down my invitation to Jamaica." Vic shrugged. "Something about getting together with family friends, but it didn't sound like they were doing anything special. Wouldn't you rather spend Christmas lying on the beach instead of hanging out with some old farts who know your mom?"
That wasn't at all what I meant. Still, if that was the strangest behavior Vic could mention, probably Lucas had kept his thoughts about vampires to himself. Vic wasn't the kind of guy who could bluff his way through something like that. With a sting, I realized that Vic was more honest than I was.
"Cheetos?" Vic offered me a half-empty, orange-powdery bag. I shook my head and tried very hard to pretend that I didn't feel a whole lot like being sick. "He's gonna regret it. Wait and see. Me and my family—we're going to be having the time of our lives. And what's he going to be doing? Minding his table manners somewhere." Through a mouthful of Cheetos, Vic predicted, "It's gonna be a long month."
"Yeah," I muttered. "It really is."
* * *
I suppose most people would assume that vampires don't really get into Christmas. Most people would be wrong.
The religious part was uncomfortable. Crosses didn't set us on fire or turn us to smoke, like in horror movies, but being in a chapel or church felt all wrong—sort of a strange creepy-crawly sensation as if someone unseen were watching. So no midnight mass, no crèche, nothing like that. However, vampires like getting presents as much as anybody. Add some time off from school, and you've got a holiday even the undead can enjoy.
Most of the undead, anyway. I was more miserable that Christmas than I'd ever been before in my life.
The stifling atmosphere eased up when the other kids left, so that only the vampires remained behind. People stopped putting on so much attitude; nobody remained for them to pick on or impress. A few departed, including Patrice, who insisted th
at the skiing in Switzerland this time of year was not to be missed. The rest of us, teachers and students alike, remained at Evernight because it was our home, or as close to a home as some people had.
"We're the exception, Bianca." My mother hung holly garlands over our doorway as I stood beneath her, steadying the ladder. She and Dad had picked up on my black mood and were trying extra hard to get me into the holiday spirit. "We're the only family at Evernight, do you realize that? None of the others here now have had a family since—well, since they were alive, I guess."
"It's just weird to me that they don't have homes to go to." I handed up a thumbtack for her to secure the garland in place. "We had a house. How do people get by without houses?"
"We had a house for sixteen years," Dad corrected me from his place on the couch, where he was busily going through his old records, trying to find Ella Wishes You a Swinging Christmas. "That's your whole life, but to your mother and me, it seems like—"