CHAPTER 19
“You came,” Stephen said as I stepped into the dark space under the bleachers. He stood in a shaft of moonlight, his skin glowing and his expression smug. I swear, if I’d had Clayton’s stake right then, I would have taken care of him myself.
He held out a hand, my purse dangling from his fingertips. I snatched it away from him, then opened it and pawed through the contents. Everything was there: wallet, pens, Stephen King paperback, cell phone. I checked the phone. The battery still had almost a full charge. I checked the wallet. Twenty-two dollars and my student ID. All in order.
I tucked everything back inside, then glanced at Stephen. But I didn’t say thanks. I mean, it was his fault I’d lost the thing in the first place.
He chuckled softly, then smiled. “So very good to see you.” Honestly, he looked like a guy who’d just convinced Miss America to suck face with him.
Since I wasn’t sharing the love, I held back, my reacquired purse clutched to my chest.
He cocked his head, then held his hands out to his sides. “You’re upset,” he said. “Come on. It’s okay. You can tell me.”
I just stared. This . . . this . . . creep who’d turned me into something inhuman and undead was standing in front of me looking a lot like Heath Ledger in Casanova.
“Elizabeth,” he cooed, then took my hand.
I ripped it back.
A second later, I wasn’t so sure I should have done that. He snarled, wolflike, and bared fangs. “I don’t mind that you’re upset,” he said. “But don’t you dare invoke my wrath.”
Invoke his wrath? What? Were we suddenly back in the dark ages?
I almost asked, but then I got a look at his face . . . and decided that invoking his wrath would definitely be a bad idea. I backed up a step, suddenly feeling a lot more compliant. “Right. Sorry. Um, yeah. I was a little ticked. But I’m better now. Now I’m just annoyed.”
Wolf boy faded, replaced by Heath Ledger again, all kind and conciliatory. “Tell me it’s not that bad,” he said, circling me as he spoke. “I’d hate to think I’ve ruined your life.”
“Golly no, Stephen. This is just peachy keen.”
He laughed then and hooked an arm around my shoulder. Like I was his favorite little sister or something.
Monday, I would have been depressed that he thought of me all sisterly. Tonight, I really wished he weren’t thinking of me at all.
“So, are you going to tell me why you did this to me? I mean, you did do this to me, didn’t you? You’re a vampire, right?”
“You really are as smart as they say,” he said.
“Chris Freytag, too,” I said, just so he’d know I really wasn’t an idiot. “And Ennis and Derek and Nelson.”
He cocked his head just slightly, and I took that as a yes.
“How were Chris and Ennis at school?” I asked. “I mean, why aren’t they asleep during the day? And what about the sun?”
Stephen just smiled. “If you can’t figure out the answers to those questions on your own, Elizabeth, then maybe you’re not as much use to me as I thought.”
Oh.
Since that didn’t sound good, I changed the subject. “So, is everybody on the team a vampire?”
“No,” he said, then frowned a little. “Not yet.”
“So what’s the deal? You’re running around making new vampires all the time? Working your way up to the whole team? The whole school?” Whoa. I just realized. Maybe he was working his way up to the whole town. A town full of vampires! Sort of like Invasion of the Body Snatchers or ’Salem’s Lot.
I was getting myself worked up, but Stephen was laughing. “The whole school?” He snorted. “I think not. We’re very . . . selective. It’s an honor, you know.” He leaned in close, his face right next to mine. “You do realize it’s an honor, don’t you?”
I wanted to tell him he was a psycho-vampire and to not do me any more favors. Instead, I just said, “Well, yeah, sure. I mean, I ran all the way home and didn’t even get winded. It’s almost like being a superhero.” And you know what? A tiny little part of me meant that.
I stifled a shiver. This was not a good thing. I did not want to be a vampire. I did not like being a vampire. Night vision and Nike speed notwithstanding.
Still, at least I sounded sincere. If Stephen’s bs meter was turned on, it wouldn’t give me away.
Or would it? I wondered about that a second later as Stephen leaned in close to me, then sniffed, his nostrils flaring with the action.
I took a step back. “Um, hello?”
“You have drunk,” he said, “but you haven’t yet fed.”
He could tell all that by sniffing me? “Is that bad?” I asked, hoping I sounded innocent.
“Hmmm,” he said.
“So, you said you weren’t changing the whole town into vamps,” I said briskly, trying to change the subject. “But you never answered me about the football team.”
He leaned back, resting against the underside of the bleachers, all casual in his tight jeans and crisp white T-shirt. Honestly, if I didn’t already know he was an undead creep, I’d think he looked pretty adorable.
“Not yet,” he said, finally answering my question. “Someday, maybe, but not until . . .” He trailed off, then pushed away from the bleachers and hooked his arm through mine. I managed to stifle a shiver and congratulated myself on my nerves of steel. “Actually, you’re the last we’re admitting to our little honors program, Elizabeth. At least for a while. We handpicked you. No,” he amended. “I handpicked you.”
“Yeah,” I said. “So you told me. Why?”
He smiled, full of southern charm. “You really are a cut-to-the-chase kind of girl, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Fair enough. It’s simple, really. I gave you a gift. A superhero’s life. You said so yourself, right?”
I nodded slowly, warily.
“So now it’s your turn to do something for me.”
“Oh.” I frowned. What could I possibly do for him? Because if he was thinking sex, he’d pretty much lost his chance once he spiked my drink and bit my neck. “Um, what is it you want me to do?”
Again with the smile. “Nothing you won’t enjoy.”
“I don’t know, Stephen. I mean—”
“Elizabeth,” he said sharply. “I thought I explained the rules. I say ‘jump,’ and you say ‘how high?’ ” He chucked my chin. “And don’t go getting any ideas about killing me.”
“Um, why would I want to do that?” I asked, innocently.
“It’s a gift I’ve given you,” he said. “But sometimes people don’t appreciate the things they’ve been handed.” As he spoke, he handed me a wooden stake. “Try,” he said.
I held it, dumbstruck, even as my mind screamed for me to do it! Do it! Do it!
“Try,” he repeated again, this time with an edge to his voice.
I lashed out with all my pent-up fury, aiming the point at his heart. It connected and I felt an instant of triumph before the pain set in. The stake had burst into flames, singeing my hand along with it.
I screamed, dropping what was left of the burning wood and clutching my wounded hand.
“You should cover that,” Stephen said, handing me a glove.
I cringed, still cradling my hand. He shook the glove, impatient, until I took it. I slid it on, glaring at him the whole time.
“I told you, Elizabeth. I’m your master. And a minion cannot kill her master. For that matter, you can’t kill any member above you in the clan. Or equal to you in the hierarchy, for that matter.”
“Equal to me?”
“With the same master,” he said.
“Oh.” I cocked my head. “So who is Chris’s master?”
A flash of anger colored his eyes, and I winced. “Watch yourself, Elizabeth. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”
I waited a beat, which pretty much exhausted my courage. Then I nodded. “Sure.” What else could I say? I wasn’t going to risk pissing Stephen off. I mean, my hand got burned because of his little demonstration. Who knew what the consequences would be if he actually set out to punish me. Maybe a slap on the wrist. Maybe a lot, lot worse.
Until I knew what exactly I was up against, I was Cooperation Girl. “So, can I ask you a question?”
“You can ask anything.”
“Right. Um. Were you . . . I mean, when you transferred to Waterloo . . . were you already a vamp?”
He laughed. “Oh, yes. I’ve been a vampire for quite a long time.”
“How long?” I asked, suspicious.
“Two hundred and thirty-three years,” he said, as if he was talking about the weather.
“Oh.” Well, that explains the formal way of talking. Old habits die hard, I guess. “So why does a two-hundred-and-thirty-three-year-old vampire want to come to a Texas high school?”
“To play football, of course.”
Why did that not surprise me?
“Ah, Elizabeth. I’m so glad you’re taking an interest. You really are an exceptional girl.”
I managed a simpering smile and decided to drop the questions for now. “Right. So, um, what do you want me to do?” Now I was Cooperation Girl and Helper Girl. Oh, joy.
He looked at me, his eyes narrow, as if he was trying to figure out if I was sincere. Then he cocked his head and smiled.
I didn’t like the look of that smile at all.
“Come with me,” he said, holding out his hand.
I hesitated. “Where are we going?”
“You’re a creature of the night now, Elizabeth. We’re going to see some of the nightlife.”
“Oh.”
I must have looked nervous, because he laughed. “We’re going to Sixth Street, my dear,” he said, referring to Austin’s well-known after-hours hangout, lined with restaurants, bars, and clubs with live music.
“Oh. Well, okay, then.” Even though most of the clubs card, some let in underage kids, stamping our hands so that we’re not served the dreaded alcohol.
“And while we’re there,” Stephen added casually, “we’ll get you a little snack.” I looked up sharply, but he smiled, as innocent as an angel. “Trust me, Elizabeth. You think you have superpowers now . . . but once you’ve tasted the wine of the vein . . . well, then you’ll see the true nature of your new powers.”