I stare down at the ground. Time to come clean, I guess. Just hope she’ll understand I only had the best intentions …
“Um, well, sort of,” I stammer. “But only ‘cause I thought you were so good. That you were better than anyone trying out. And I didn’t want them to discount you because … because …”
I trail off. What can I say? Because you don’t have highlighted hair? Because your clothes are frumpy? Because I didn’t think your athletic skill would overcome your lack of style?
“Because I’m not cool enough to be a cheerleader,” Cait finishes. “Of course. And you figured you’d help.” She shakes her head, looking defeated. “God, how could I have been so stupid? To think they took me ‘cause I was good enough. My mom was right. I’m not cut out to be a cheerleader.”
“But you are!” I protest. “You’re, like, the most talented cheerleader on the squad!”
“How would you know?” Cait asks, narrowing her eyes. “You suck.”
Ouch. I wince. That hurt. Sure, I’m not the most natural cheerleader in the world. But I have been practicing. In fact, I thought I was getting pretty good—
“What I don’t get is why you’re even on the squad to begin with, Rayne. You don’t like it. And you obviously think you’re so superior to the rest of the girls. Why are you wasting your time? Filling up a slot that could be taken by some girl who actually enjoys waving pom-poms.”
“Uh, well, actually that’s a long story …”
Cait rolls her eyes. “Whatever, Rayne. Just eff off and leave me alone.”
She storms off. I watch her go, wishing I could stop her, to tell her that she’s totally off base. But I guess in all actuality, she’s not. After all, I am only on the squad to infiltrate the werewolf pack. To accomplish my mission, not have a good time, learn skills, and meet new friends. But weirdly enough, I also kind of enjoy it now. It’s kind of fun in an odd way. And I do like a lot of the other girls …
(Please do not tell anyone, ever, that I just admitted that or I will hunt you down and kill you slowly with much torture!)
I slump to the ground, furious at myself and the situation. Why did I think interfering with Cait’s life was a good idea? I mean, I know I had the best intentions. But still! Now she’ll never know if she would have made the squad on her own merit or if the only reason she’s here is because of my stupid blackmail trick.
Mandy’s right. I’m no better than the rest of them.
12
Too depressed to go back to cheerleading practice, I decide to head home. When I walk in the front door I’m greeted by the most glorious smell in the entire universe. Like a bug to a light I’m drawn to the kitchen, practically salivating over the aroma.
I find David at the stove, wearing my mom’s apron, and stirring something in a pot. Ugh. For some crazy reason I was holding out some inane hope that my mom had somehow taken cooking lessons and was responsible for the delicious food currently being prepared. Even though I knew that was about as likely as Paris Hilton getting her MBA and launching her own accounting firm.
I consider turning around and fleeing, running to my room—er, Sunny’s room—but realize it’s too late to do so in a way that wouldn’t make David think I’m purposely avoiding him. Even though, of course, I am. But I suppose I’ve got to face him at some point and it might as well be when I’m in as bad a mood as I am now. After all, the night can’t get any worse at this point.
“Good evening, Rayne,” he says, turning to me, a big smile on his face. “How was school?”
Oh nice. I love how in the short time he’s been here he’s made himself so at home in our house. As if he belongs here and pays half the mortgage. Not to mention how he seems to think it’s his job to play Daddy since poor Sunny and I are essentially without that whole father-figure thing. Next thing you know he’s going to start asking how my grades are shaping up and if I need help on my homework.
“Fine,” I mutter, opening the fridge to rummage through longingly. I’m so hungry. Well, not hungry exactly, but craving food. Chocolate, ice cream, baked potatoes—heck I’d even take some of my mother’s hippie hash or tofu burgers at his point. Just something to chomp down on, savor, and swallow.
I had thought that once I became a vampire all I’d crave was blood. I had no idea how much I’d miss chocolate chip cookies, pasta, and pizza. I’d almost sacrifice immortality at this point, just for one more Krispy Kreme donut.
“What are you cooking?” I ask, against my better judgment. I don’t want to engage in any sort of meaningful conversation with the intruder—make him feel like he’s welcome or something—but my mouth is watering and my curiosity overcomes my good sense.
“Vegetable soup,” he says, walking over to the counter and picking up a knife. I watch, enthralled, as he dices a carrot. He grabs the slices and throws them in the pot. “I figured since this is a house filled with vegetarians, I’d better start learning to just say no to my meat-and-potatoes lifestyle and learn some new recipes.”
I breathe in through my nose, savoring the soup smell. So good. So, so good. I have to fight the urge not to push him out of the way, grab the pot, and dump the whole thing down my throat in one gulp.
“Well, it smells delish,” I admit.
“Sorry you won’t be able to have any,” he says in an overly sympathetic tone. “It must be hard to give up food.” David works for Slayer Inc. and is one of the few people on earth that knows I’m now a vamp. All I can say is he better never tell my mom.
I scowl. “What makes you think I want any?”
“The drool at the corner of your lips,” he says with a chuckle.
Oh. I reach up to wipe my mouth with my sleeve.
“That’s not from soup envy,” I explain, even though of course it is. “It’s the bloodlust. I’m actually contemplating sinking my teeth into your jugular and sucking all the blood out of you until you’re completely dry and shriveled up.” I don’t know why, but I find it amusing to try to shock and anger him.
Unfortunately for me, he doesn’t take the bait. “Sure you are,” he says with a patronizing smile. “You forget I have access to your file, my dear. I know you’re still on synthetics.”
“You looked at my file?” I cry, up until this moment not even aware I had a file. But if I do, I know I sure as hell don’t want my mom’s boyfriend checking it out! “What right do you have to look in my file?”
“I’m your guardian,” he says simply. “It’s my job to know these things.”
“Well, I’m going to tell Slayer Inc. I want a new guardian. Or no guardian at all. You’re my mom’s boyfriend. There’s gotta be a conflict of interest in there somewhere.”
“I checked out the rules and I assure you, Rayne, it’s perfectly on the up and up,” David says. “And speaking of, how is your latest assignment going? Teifert tells me the cheerleaders are actually Lycans?”
I open my mouth to retort that it’s none of his business when my mom walks in. All talks of the fanged and furry must cease.
“Hi, honey,” Mom says, coming over to kiss me on the forehead. “How was school?”
I want to tell her about the football game. About my stupid English teacher who believes he’s the greatest author since Shakespeare and forces us to sit and endure his poetry during class. And about a whole slew of other things that daughters share with their moms. But he’s here. And I don’t want him knowing anything about my life that he doesn’t have to. He already knows too much—having looked into my file and all.
“Fine,” I say, going the one-word answer route.
It doesn’t matter anyway. Mom’s already moved on to David, evidently feeling the one standard question satisfies her obligatory daughter-discussion requirement for the night. She walks up behind him and wraps her arms around his waist. He turns around, soup spoon in hand. She opens her mouth and he gives her a taste.
“Mmm,” she says. “Delicious.” She stands on her tiptoes to kiss him on the mouth. So gross. I turn a
way. “You’re a great cook, sweetie. Much better than I could ever be.”
“The neighbor’s dog is a better cook than you’ll ever be, Mom,” I mutter.
Mom’s face falls and I feel bad for being snarky. She tries hard. And she’s never had any help. And look at her—she’s happy! With a great guy who cooks. Why can’t I be okay with that? But I can’t be. I’m just too annoyed.
“Your mother is a fine cook,” David scolds me. “And she works very hard. You guys should appreciate all she does for you.”
Now he’s lecturing me about being nice to my mom. I can’t stand it! I’m always nice to my mom. Okay, well, the neighbor’s dog jab wasn’t exactly a Mother Teresa moment, but really, I’m a good daughter with lots of respect for the Momster. He so needs to mind his own business.
“Mom knows I appreciate her,” I snarl. “And you’re not my father.”
“No,” David says under his breath so Mom can’t hear. “If I were your father I’d be off in the high-stakes poker room in Vegas.”
That’s it. I’m not going to take this from him. Not father cracks. Not when he should know how sensitive a subject that is with me. (If he’d read my file and all!) I start to lunge toward him, ready to attack. “You take that back!” I cry, shoving him in the chest. I catch him off balance and he falls back against the stove, making it look like my push was a lot harder than it really was.
“Rayne!” my mom cries, horrified and furious. She jumps between the two of us before I can take another swing at him. “Stop it! Now! What’s wrong with you?”
David stares at me with cool eyes, as if daring me to keep going. I curl my hands into fists and take a deep breath, reminding myself that in addition to being my mom’s boyfriend he also works for Slayer Inc. How much power does he have over there, anyway? Could he tell Teifert about my outburst and get me nanoed?
I look at my mom. She’s sunk into a kitchen chair, head in her hands. Is she crying? God, that stupid David made her cry. He so deserves me to kick his ass.
“You bastard!” I say, furious. “Look at what you’ve done! You made my mother cry.”
“I didn’t,” David says calmly. “You did.”
I look at my mom, waiting for her to defend me. To speak up and say that David should leave and that she’d made a big mistake asking him to live here. That she’s very sorry she put me and Sunny through all this and wants us to be a girls-only family again.
But Mom doesn’t say any of this. And when David walks over to her and puts an arm around her shoulders she leans into him, sobbing against his chest. I stare at them, realizing I’ve been replaced.
“Fine,” I say, giving up. “I see how it is. I’m so out of here.”
I walk up to my room (sorry, make that Sunny’s room) and start stuffing my clothes into garbage bags. First I’ll go to England and then when I get back I’m going straight to the coven and moving in there. Or I’ll hitch a ride to Vegas and shack up with Dad. Whatever. Just as long as I don’t have to come home to Casa Unwelcome Rayne anymore.
You know, I hope Mom worries. I hope she thinks I’m dead and calls the National Guard or whoever you call when someone disappears. It will serve her right for siding with him instead of her own daughter. Her own flesh and blood. Bitch.
I can’t believe how much everything sucks. I thought becoming a vampire would make all my problems go away.
So how come now I seem to have more problems than ever?
13
“I’m ready to go to England,” I tell Jareth, cradling the cell phone between my head and neck as I peel out of the driveway in my Volkswagen Bug a few minutes later. I’ve so got to get one of those earpieces before I suffer permanent neck injury. “Let’s go tonight. I’m on my way over to the coven now. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
There’s silence on the end of the line. “I thought you didn’t want to go until Friday,” Jareth says at last. “Don’t you have school tomorrow? What are you going to tell your mother?”
“Screw school,” I retort, anger burning in my belly. “I have eternity to get my diploma. No big deal if I flunk this semester. And Mom’s easy. I’ll just have Spider say I’m staying at her house. Worst comes to worst, Sunny can play both of us. She owes me. I mean, whatever it takes, right? The cheerleaders need their antidote. Though honestly I think at feast one of them would be better off put to sleep. Think we can selectively apply it?”
A car honks as I cut in front of it at the last minute. I give the driver the finger. No one messes with Rayne McDonald, mad vamp gone postal, tonight.
“What’s that honking? Are you talking while driving again.”
“Uh, no. I’m, uh, well, maybe. I’m fine though. Not a problem.”
“You sound angry,” Jareth says. “Did something happen?”
“No! Well, yes, but it wasn’t my fault! I mean, all I was trying to do was protect her …” I trail off as the lump in my throat makes it nearly impossible to speak. I swerve to miss a black cat crossing the street. Nice. Some bad luck to go along with my bad day.
“Rayne, you don’t sound fit to drive. Pull over and I’ll come get you.”
Oh great. Now he’s going to start in on me. This is the last thing I need. I’m so sick of everyone trying to play Raynie’s Dad. (Besides my actual biological father, of course.) I’m not helpless. I’m not in need of discipline. I can take care of myself. Everyone just needs to eff off and leave me alone. Trust me that I can make good decisions and take care of myself.
I slam on the brakes to avoid colliding with the car in front of me, which for some ridiculous reason decided to stop in front of a yellow light.
“Learn to drive!” I yell out my window, my face burning with rage. I’ve half a mind to get out of the car and go bang on his window, fangs bared. Scare the life out of him.
“Rayne, pull the car over. Now!” Jareth yells into my ear, interrupting my horror-movie fantasy. Grr.
“No! I told you I’m fine. Stop being so damn overprotective,” I growl back. “I’m a vampire. Your blood mate. Not some child. Stop treating me like one.”
A pause on the other end of the line. “I didn’t mean to imply …”
The light turns green and we start going again. I swerve to the left to try to pass the yellow-light stopper, but then realize there’s a truck in the other lane. I swerve back, growling to myself. In response to my aggression, the other car suddenly slows down, forcing me to slam on my brakes again. My tires squeal against the pavement.
“What was that noise?” Jareth demands. “Rayne! Pull over the car. Now! You’re scaring me.”
“I’m fine! God, it’s bad enough I have one random guy in my house trying to masquerade as my father. I don’t need you to play long-lost Daddy, too.”
“I’m not trying to father you. I just don’t want you an angry splatter on the side of the road. Is that so much to ask?”
“I’m a vampire! I’m not going to splatter,” I remind him. “I’m hanging up now. I’ll be there in ten. Pack your bags for England.” I click the End button and toss the phone onto the seat. A second later it starts ringing again. I reach for the radio and turn it up full blast, allowing Morrissey’s crooning to drown out the ringtone.
When I look up from the radio, I see the other car for the first time, coming out of nowhere, headlights blinding me. I have a split second to realize I must have swerved into the wrong lane while turning on the radio. I spin the wheel. Unfortunately, I end up spinning it right into a guardrail.
The car slams into the barrier. I’m thrown forward. The air bag goes off with a poof, slamming into my face. A moment later I swim into blackness.
+++
”Rayne, Rayne! Wake up!”
“Mmmm,” I moan. “Five more minutes, Mom.” “It’s Jareth, not your mom. And you’ve been in a car accident.”
I open my eyes, suddenly remembering my close encounter of the guardrail kind. I’m sitting in the driver’s seat still, an inflated air bag pushing into my chest
. Jareth is outside the car, peering in with a concerned expression on his face.
“Don’t say I told you so,” I mutter as I crawl out of the vehicle. I take a look at my car. The hood’s crumpled and there’s smoke coming out of the engine. Great. Mom’s going to kill me. So’s Sunny, considering we share this car.
“Rayne, are you crazy?” Jareth demands. “Did you hit your head too hard? Why would I say I told you so? I’m just glad you’re okay!”
I roll my eyes. “I’m a vampire, remember? I can’t die. And look, my injuries are already half healed.” I gesture to the bloody cuts on my arm, sealing up before my eyes. Way cool. I should try skydiving next. Or some other extreme sport.
“I know, but …” Jareth stares at me, looking helpless and upset. Part of me wants to go over and hug him, but the other part, the angry, bitter, hates-the-world part, doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“I’m fine. What I’d like to do is go to England now.”
“But you’ve just been in an accident. We need to get you to a doctor or something.”
“I’m fine!” I repeat. “Stop smothering me!”
Jareth takes a step back, as if he’s been slapped. He stares at me, then shakes his head. “You know, Rayne,” he says, “sometimes when people first become vampires they don’t adjust smoothly. It takes some time and counseling to get used to their new existences. We have a great coven doctor who specializes at making transformations smoother—”
“You want me to go to see a shrink?” I cry.
“Well, we don’t really call them that in the vampire world, but—”
“You do. You think I’m crazy!”
“No. I think you’re angry. Angry enough to put yourself in a situation where you could get seriously hurt.”
“For the last time, I’m a vampire! I can’t get hurt. Can you get that through your thick skull? And secondly, for your information, I have plenty of reasons to be mad.”