Bad Blood Page 13

  “But why?” I ask, puzzled. “Don’t you think it would be easier?”

  He looks up, his face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m a hemophiliac,” he explains, his voice sounding a little unsteady. “Do you know what that is?”

  I think back to eighth-grade science class. “That means you can’t stop bleeding, right?”

  He nods. “If you got a cut, your blood would clot after a few minutes and seal the wound. My blood doesn’t do that. So if I cut myself—with a knife or whatever—I would bleed myself dry. Even a tiny scratch could be life threatening.”

  “Wow,” I say, not sure how to respond. “That must be risky then to be working with animals.” Not to mention vampires.

  “Yeah,” he says. “It’s not the best profession to choose with my condition. But I love animals so I take the necessary precautions.”

  It suddenly makes a lot more sense why he was wearing those thick gloves backstage at the show. And here I had thought he was afraid of germs.

  “It’s no big deal!” he adds brightly, as if he’s afraid he’s scared me off. “I’m still normal in every other way. It’s just a nuisance really. And hey, if something were to happen, I have this.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small device. “It’s hooked up to a satellite and will automatically call nine-one-one for me if I press a button. If I’m bleeding, I can get an ambulance at my door in less than ten minutes. They’ll be able to inject me with clotting replacement plasma and then, unless the bleeding’s super massive, all will be well.”

  “That’s a handy little toy,” I agree, checking out the device. “Have you ever had to use it?”

  He shakes his head. “And hopefully I’ll never have to,” he says. “But it’s good to have, just in case.” He stuffs the device back into his pocket. “Enough about me,” he says. “I wanted to say I’m sorry about the whole play fiasco tonight. I had no idea Cornelius would react like he did. He can be a bit strange, to tell you the truth. One day he’s completely charming and fun; the next day he might transform into a royal tyrant.” He shrugs. “I can’t believe anyone—even Sasha—actually goes out with him. He’s got ‘abusive boyfriend’ written all over.”

  “Yeah, he’s definitely creepy,” I reply, realizing this is my big chance to push. “What’s his deal, anyway? He thinks he’s a vampire?”

  Jayden rolls his eyes. “Yeah, he’s completely obsessed with the whole vampire thing. Never going out during the day . . . though this is Vegas, I suppose. That’s not too unusual here.”

  He has a point. Vegas is probably a great city for a vampire to set up shop. Everyone’s on their timetable.

  “So what about this girl Sasha?” I ask, going in for the kill. “The one who played Mina before me. Did he kick her out of the play, too?”

  Jayden shook his head. “I don’t think so. I mean, he liked her. And she lasted way longer than any of our other Minas did.”

  “You go through a lot of Minas?” I ask, perking up at the admission.

  “God yes,” Jayden declares. “Hell, it seems like we’re recasting that part twice a month. That’s why everyone’s so frustrated. They work a show or two and then Cornelius fires them.”

  Fires them? Or snacks on them backstage? I shudder, remembering the flash of fang at my neck. What if Magnus’s mark—or my smell—hadn’t stopped him? Would I be just another Vegas vampire casualty?

  “I thought he’d be okay with you for at least a show or two. And since you were leaving anyway, it was kind of perfect. Or so I thought.”

  Not counting on me being a vampire’s girlfriend. “But he didn’t fire Sasha?” I ask, wanting to get back to the subject at hand.

  “No. And it was weird ’cause she wasn’t like any of the other Minas we’d cast in the past. According to the script, Mina’s supposed to be pure as the driven snow. Sasha, on the other hand, is one of the trashiest girls I’ve met. Former stripper, I believe. From some low-rent hole Cornelius picked her up in. We tried to mention this to him, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Insisted she was the perfect Mina. For months the two of them were inseparable. We were pretty sure they were hooking up, though we never saw them actually together.”

  “And then she just left?”

  Jayden nods glumly. “Yup. Just like the others. Disappearing without a trace, leaving us high and dry once again.”

  Except she didn’t exactly disappear. She showed up in Massachusetts, claiming a pedigree she obviously doesn’t have. But the question remains, how the hell had this stripper-turned-actress been able to fool an organization like the Blood Coven? I mean, even if she’d figured out a way to study for the certification with Cornelius’s help, DNA testing doesn’t lie.

  “Do you happen to know where she lives?” I ask. “Or used to live, I guess?”

  Jayden looks at me. “Why?” he asks, sounding puzzled.

  Why indeed. Way to ask the subtle questions, Sun.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe someone should . . . check on her? Make sure she’s okay?” That, at least, seems like a reasonable excuse, right? “I mean, she did disappear.”

  “True.” Jayden looks thoughtful. “Though I wouldn’t know the first place to look. Only thing I know is she lives in some trailer park. But there are millions of those outside the city so that doesn’t do us much good. Only Cornelius would know her exact address, I guess, and he refuses to talk about her at all. I’m wondering if maybe they just broke up.”

  “Or he did something to her,” I suggest, feeling bad about misleading him as to my intentions. But I need this information. “Does he have files we could look at? Just to check things out?”

  Jayden shakes his head. “He keeps it all on the computer,” he says. “Makes things easier for him since we switch cast members so often.” He shrugs. “Anyway, it’s sweet of you to be concerned about Sasha, but I’m sure she’s fine. Probably skipped town to avoid paying a bad debt or something. It’s Vegas. People disappear. Especially no-good people like her.” He pauses, then peers at me with worried eyes. “You look stressed. Is everything okay?”

  I force a smile that I’m sure doesn’t quite meet my eyes. If only I could explain it’s not Sasha I’m worried about, but my boyfriend: He’s the one who might be in trouble. I need to find the address of that trailer and fast. It may be my only chance to gather evidence as to what’s really going on. Maybe she has a stripper ID card or something. I could show Magnus she’s not who she says she is. At least get him to postpone the biting ceremony until more information can be gathered.

  I just need someone who’s good with computers to help me get that address from Cornelius . . .

  “Forget Sasha,” Jayden suddenly declares. “I asked you out so I could learn more about you, not talk about her all night. How did you come to visit our fair city? No offense, but you don’t seem like the Vegas tourist type, to be honest.”

  “No, I’m definitely not,” I admit, forcing my mind away from Jane. “Though I do love all the stuff you’ve shown me today.” I smile at him from across the table. “Especially Popovich Theater.”

  He grins. “I love that you love that. Some people have been . . . less than impressed.”

  “Yeah, well, some people like reality TV.”

  “Or tofu casserole.”

  “Hey! I like tofu,” I cry.

  He nods solemnly. “My point exactly.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I roll my eyes. “Anyway, my sister and I—I have a twin, you know—an identical twin.”

  “There’s two of you?” he shrieks in mock horror. “God help us all!”

  “Hey!” I swipe at him playfully from across the table. He dodges easily, eyes dancing merrily. “No comments from the peanut gallery or the story ends here.”

  “Okay, okay! I’ll shut up.” He folds his hands in front of him like a good little schoolboy. I giggle.

  “Much better. Anyway, my sister and I came out here to see our dad. He lives here with our stepfamily. Unfortunately he . . . got called out of town .
. . last minute.”

  The playfulness in the air evaporates as I think back to Crystal haughtily informing us that Dad isn’t upstairs and won’t be back until well after we leave. I remember the disappointment pooling in my stomach, the hurt in Rayne’s eyes as she tries to push the pain down deep inside, as she’s done so many times before. So not fair.

  “Hey!” Jayden’s concerned voice cuts through my sudden haze. I look up and see him staring at me from across the table with worried eyes. “Are you okay?”

  I shrug, tears splashing messily from my eyes. Damn it, I hadn’t meant to cry. He’s going to think I’m a total baby. “Sorry,” I say, swiping at my face with my sleeve. “I just . . . well . . .”

  “You miss your dad,” he concludes, reaching into his pocket and handing me a tissue. “And you were looking forward to seeing him.”

  I nod, taking the tissue from him and blowing my nose. “It’s just that he’s always doing stuff like this,” I tell him. “Like earlier this year. He was supposed to visit on Rayne’s and my birthday.”

  The story bursts out from me with a force I’m unprepared for. This is the first time I’ve ever told anyone about what happened. How I reached out to my father, sending him an e-mail and asking him to come. How he replied that he would—even e-mailed me his plane reservations. We held the party for hours, waiting for him to walk through that door, birthday cake in hand, as he’d promised. Finally I went to bed; I knew he wasn’t coming. But my sister waited up all night. Still hoping. Still praying he’d somehow show. But, of course, he never did.

  Sure, he came later. When Rayne was sick with the blood virus, he came—full of apologies and excuses and admissions that he was a lousy father. But what did that really prove? That it would take one of us nearly dying to get his attention?

  “So we’re headed back on Sunday,” I finish up, dabbing my eyes with the tissue again. “And that’ll be it. A wasted visit, really.”

  “Oh, Sunny,” Jayden says, getting up from his chair and walking around the table. He puts his arms around me and pulls me into a warm embrace. I bury my head in his shoulder, the sobs overtaking me. I hadn’t realized until this moment, when I allowed myself to feel, how upset I was about the whole thing. Maybe I’m more like Rayne—pushing things down—than I want to admit.

  “The crappy thing is,” I say, still gripping his shoulders, “I still love him. I want to hate him. I really do. But I can’t. I just remember what he used to be like when I was a kid. He’d read us stories. Take us to the zoo. He was like the model dad. Until he just up and left.” I pull away from the hug. “And now we find out he was having an affair the whole time. We have a half-sister who was born when he was still together with our mother.”

  Jayden gives me a sympathetic look. “That must have been rough,” he says.

  “Yeah. It wasn’t fun.”

  “I wonder . . .” He sits back down in his chair and I do the same. “I mean, I always thought I had it bad—I never knew my father. My mother won’t even tell me who he is. Says it was a big mistake and it’s better for me not to know. Hearing your story, I don’t know, maybe she has a point.”

  I consider this for a moment, then shake my head. “No,” I say. “I wouldn’t trade the memories I have. Even though they hurt. They’re good memories. And I cherish them.”

  “Yeah.” He nods. “That makes sense.” He stares down at his plate.

  “I’m sorry about your dad,” I tell him, reaching across the table to touch his forearm. “Is there any way your mother would change her mind?”

  He shakes his head. “Not a chance,” he says. “Believe me, I’ve tried.” He shrugs. “But maybe it’s for the best. It’s not like he’s all coming looking for me either. Probably doesn’t know I exist or wants to know either.”

  “Well, then, he misses out,” I declare vehemently. “’Cause you’re awesome.”

  He looks up at me with a crooked grin. “Yeah?” he says. “Well, you’re pretty awesome, too.” He grabs my hand and squeezes it in his own. “And in a way I’m glad your dad wasn’t around this week. Gave me a chance to hang out with you.” His eyes sparkle at me.

  Jayden strokes my palm with his thumb, sending a chill down my spine. It’s so cozy and intimate here. Other diners surround us from all sides, yet it feels like just the two of us, sitting alone in the calm, flickering candlelight and warm breeze.

  Jayden captures my eyes with his mesmerizing emerald ones, a look of adoration on his beautiful face. My breath catches in my throat as I realize exactly what he’s thinking. What he wants me to do. And it would be so easy, too. To lean forward—just an inch or two—giving him the sign he’s searching for. Letting him know I’m feeling the same things he is—that rush of blood in my ears, that intense flutter in my heart, the weakness in my knees. Which of course I am.

  It would be so easy to give him the go-ahead. To let him know it’s okay to push through the unspoken barrier between us and press his mouth against mine. They’d be warm, his lips—hot maybe—burning with desire, but tempered with sweetness. Unlike Magnus’s kisses, which are cold as ice, seeing as the guy is technically a walking corpse . . .

  “You’re so beautiful, Sunny,” Jayden murmurs, not dropping his gaze. “And so sweet.”

  Argh! I want to kiss him so badly it hurts. But I can’t. I won’t. I shake my head, trying to surface from the lust I find myself drowning in. As simple as it seems, as easy as it would be, it would also open up a world of not-so-easy, not-so-simple complications. Because while in some other life, Jayden may very well be my soul mate, in this one, I belong to a vampire. I am not free.

  I push back on my chair and scramble to my feet, effectively breaking the spell between us. Jayden looks dazed and more than a little disappointed, but he doesn’t press me, which honestly makes me like him even more. But I push it all down, deep inside, and give him a bright, completely fake smile that all but kills me to make. “Thanks for dinner,” I say. “It was fun.”

  Fun. Please. It was so much more than fun and I’m screaming inside to tell him. To tell him how lonely I’ve been with a boyfriend who doesn’t have time for me. One who doesn’t want me with him, even though he’s less than a mile away. One who calls me jealous and immature and refuses to listen to my reasoning or look at my proof. I hadn’t realized how upset and unhappy I’ve been until I experienced something else. A guy who doesn’t make me his last priority. Who doesn’t make me feel unwanted or like I’m just a kid.

  Probably because he’s just a kid, too. And he knows where I’m coming from in a way Magnus never will.

  Jayden reaches out and touches my shoulder, finding my eyes again. His expression is kind. Understanding. He may be a kid, but he’s not stupid. “You have a boyfriend,” he assesses. “That’s why you look so nervous.”

  Half of me wants to deny it, but instead I nod miserably.

  “It’s okay,” he says, giving me a quirked smile. “Really.”

  Argh! Why does he have to be so sweet about everything? It only makes it harder. I’d rather he were some lusty horn dog who only wants to jump me and then never call the next day. But instead, he’s classy. A perfect gentleman. Just the kind of guy I always imagined myself with. The kind of guy I thought Magnus was when we first started dating.

  “Thanks,” I say, dropping my gaze to my feet, where I don’t have to contend with his unfairly alluring eyes. “It’s complicated.” If only I could explain exactly how complicated.

  “Come on, Sun,” he says, nodding his head to the restaurant exit. “Let me take you home.”

  I follow him out of the taqueria and onto the street. “Do you want to take a cab or walk?” he asks.

  “Walk.” I’m not ready to say good-bye just yet.

  So he leads me through the streets, back toward the Strip. He doesn’t talk much, but it’s not awkward. If anything the situation feels kind of desperately romantic. Like a funeral procession for our new friendship.

  I don’t know his phone nu
mber or have any idea where he lives. I don’t even know his last name. And in the long run, that’s probably for the best. We’ll say our good-byes and make them stick, instead of torturing ourselves with a temptation I cannot submit to. I’m going home to Massachusetts on Sunday and that is that. I mean, what am I going to do, Facebook friend him? No. It’s better this way.

  I involuntarily find myself slowing my step, my heart feeling as if it’s being torn in two. I try to think of Magnus. Of all we’ve shared over the last six months. But all I can think about is our last conversation on the phone. When he called me jealous and childish and didn’t believe a word I said. Is this how he shows his love for me? Will it change, once I have proof that I was right?

  “We’re here,” Jayden says, a few moments later as we turn off the Strip and I see the apartment looming in front of me. “This is where you said, right?”

  I nod, wishing suddenly that Dad lived a lot farther away. Or that I could at least say he did, to prolong our walk. You know, like to Massachusetts or something.

  Jayden turns to me, taking my hands in his, and the chills electrify me all over again. “Good-bye, Sunshine,” he murmurs. “I’m really happy I got to spend the day with you. You’re special. Very special. And I’m honored to have met you.”

  I find I can’t speak. I just stare at him, forcing the tears not to fall. He leans forward and kisses me gently on the cheek, just a whisper of a butterfly’s wing against my skin, but it scorches all the same. He smells of Old Spice, an old-fashioned cologne that my grandfather used to wear that has no business being worn by an eighteen-year-old boy and yet smells perfect on him.

  And then, before I even realize it’s happening, he turns and walks off back toward the Strip.

  “Good-bye, Jayden,” I whisper to his retreating figure, my words falling into the night desert winds, whisked away, unheard. “I’ll miss you.”

  14

  Not shockingly, I suppose, everyone’s awake when I enter the apartment, even though it’s nearly eleven. This is definitely a household of Vegas night owls. Heather’s doing some Pilates on the floor while Crystal watches some kind of MTV reality show on the big-screen TV. Stormy’s next to her on the couch, cross-legged and lost in the world of Nintendo DS. Rayne’s the only one missing—shock, surprise, and all that.