Bad Blood Page 4

  This whole thing really sucks. Maybe I should have just stayed with high school sex god Jake Wilder when I had the chance. Sure, he may have been a little slobbery with his kisses, but at least he was around my own age and would stay that way!

  “Hi, guys!”

  A bright, chipper voice cuts through my gloomy thoughts. Magnus pulls away from our embrace and my eyes fall upon the person I least want to see in the whole world.

  “Hello, Jane,” Magnus says in a gravelly voice and for a moment I wonder if he’s been crying, too. “I didn’t realize you planned to dine here this evening.”

  “Well, I heard it was really the only cool place in town for bloodsuckers like ourselves,” she replies, throwing her arms around my boyfriend. I love how she’s already calling herself a vampire, even though she hasn’t gone through with the biting yet.

  Magnus pats her awkwardly on the back, then pulls away. Her eyes fall on me and let’s just say they’re not exactly friendly. “Am I interrupting something?” she asks pointedly.

  I open my mouth to say yes, yes she is and she needs to leave Club Fang and never come back, but Magnus is too quick.

  “Not at all,” he says. “Have a seat.”

  I squeeze my hands into fists. Have a seat? Have a seat? Did he just tell that bitch to have a seat? The one he claims will never come between us is now literally between us, squashed into a table designed for two and ordering a cappuccino with a double shot of A negative. Which is completely ludicrous since she’s not even a vampire yet and has zero reason to be drinking blood.

  “This is good, actually,” Magnus says. “It’ll give you two a chance to get acquainted. Jane, this is Sunshine McDonald, my girlfriend.”

  “Oh Mags, that’s so cute. You have a human girlfriend! I love it!” She offers me a small white hand and I notice that Rayne was totally right about the pink vampire designs on her fake nails. So cheesy. “Hello, Mortal,” she says in total baby talk, as if I’m four years old. “How are you tonight?”

  Is she for real? “Um, Jane, I don’t know if you’ve looked in the mirror lately, but I don’t see any fangs in your mouth either,” I snark, unable to help myself. This chick is way too much.

  She waves a hand dismissively. “Simply a temporary technicality. I’ve already got through all the training and am officially certified by the council. In a few days, I will be as undead as a doornail.” She tosses me a patronizing smile. “It’s kind of complicated, Sunshine,” she adds. “I don’t expect you to fully understand our ways.”

  I squeeze my hands into fists. Complicated? I’d give her complicated. How about some complicated right up her ass? If only Rayne were here. God, sometimes it really sucks to be the helpless human half of team twin.

  Magnus places a hand on my knee under the table, an attempt to calm me down I guess. “So, Sunny, Jane comes to us from England, where she just completed her Master of Science degree at Oxford,” he explains. “With a concentration in political theory.”

  I suck in a deep breath, trying to channel my inner Zen, for his sake at the very least. “Wow,” I say. “That’s . . . impressive. And to think I barely passed Western Civ last year.”

  Jane snorts. “Western Civ?” she repeats. “What, are you, like, in high school?” To my chagrin, she starts laughing. Loudly. “Ohmigod, you are! You’re in high school. That’s so adorable!” She turns to Magnus. “You’ve been robbing the cradle, huh, baby?”

  I sit there, teeth clenched, waiting for Magnus to defend me. But he’s just as bright red as I probably am at the moment and isn’t saying a word. Is he embarrassed? About me still being in high school? He never had a problem with it before . . .

  Oh God, it’s already happening. I’m being displaced, right before my very eyes and there’s not a thing I can do about it.

  “Excuse me, I’m going to go see about your cappuccino,” Magnus mutters in a barely audible voice as he gets up to make a hasty retreat. Coward!

  And now I’m stuck one-on-one with Jane. Which, I try to tell myself, isn’t necessarily a bad thing since it gives me a chance to put all my Internet research to work.

  “So, Oxford,” I say casually. “That’s really pretty awesome.”

  Jane rolls her eyes and snaps her gum. “Yes, it’s very . . . awesome,” she repeats, obviously making fun of my word choice. “Like, totally tubular.”

  “You know, I’ve been researching the place a ton,” I inform her, taking a sip of my now perfect temperature coffee. “Since I’m thinking of attending next fall.”

  Jane suddenly looks a bit uncomfortable. Aha! “You are?” she asks. “How . . . nice. Hope you can get in.”

  “Me, too!” I squeal in my best silly high school girl voice. “It’s like, so tough, I know. But how cool would it be to live in England. I just love England. Where’s Oxford again? Is it London?”

  “Oxford is in Oxford,” Jane replies, a big “duh” in her tone. Darn, guess I couldn’t fool her that easily. But I’m guessing she’s going to need one of her lifelines for round two.

  “Oh right. Of course. London’s just the hometown of Professor Davis, the best political science teacher ever, right? Did you have Professor Davis when you went to Oxford, Jane?”

  Now Jane looks like she’s just swallowed a raw turnip. “Um, I’m not sure,” she says picking at one of her fake fingernails. “I don’t think so.”

  “Huh,” I mused. “That’s really strange, since I read that Professor Davis’s Theory of Politics course is one that’s required for anyone to earn a political theory degree.”

  “Oh. Right. Well, I guess I did have him then,” Jane stammers.

  Yes! “Her you mean.” I smile smugly. “Professor Davis is a woman.”

  “Of course.” She’s now searching the room, desperate for Magnus to come back. But it looks like her blood mate got stuck talking to one of his constituents. Sorry, Jane. “I knew that.”

  Sure she did. “Great. So then maybe you can enlighten me. I’ve always wondered what Dominus illuminatio mea means. Can you explain its significance in a hundred words or less?”

  Now she’s looking truly scared. “Dominos . . . illuminati . . . what?”

  “You know, Oxford’s motto,” I say, in my best patronizing voice. “It’s on, like, all their stuff. You must have seen it while you were, you know, attending the school?”

  “Oh right.” She recovers. “Of course I’ve seen it. I just didn’t take any . . . French classes . . .”

  “You mean Latin classes?” I ask, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “The school motto is in Latin.”

  “Or Latin,” she hastens to correct. “I concentrated my studies more on the European countries. Like Italy and stuff. Not . . . Latin countries. Hell, I don’t even like tacos.”

  Oh geez. She’s dug herself in so deep with her lies now she’s probably about to hit China. But before I can point out the three thousand geographical mistakes this supposed master of international relations has just made in one breath, Magnus returns, carrying her steamed blood cappuccino. Saved by the vamp.

  Magnus hands the drink to Jane, then takes his seat. “Have you two been getting acquainted?” he asks hopefully.

  “Oh yes,” I say, shooting Jane a smug smile. “I’m learning so much about her.”

  Jane hastily rises from her seat, knocking over her drink in the process. I jump back so none of the bloody coffee gets on my outfit. “Sorry,” she mumbles, looking completely flustered. “I actually have . . . an appointment . . . that I forgot about. I need to get . . . there. So I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, she makes her escape.

  Yes! She totally fell for my trap! I couldn’t ask for a better outcome to my investigation. Just call me Nancy Drew. Or at least Veronica Mars.

  I turn to Magnus. “So, I’ve done some research,” I inform him proudly. “And it’s clear that Jane is not who she says she is.”

  Magnus stares at me. “What?”

  “Well, she didn’t go to Oxford for one thing. I
can tell you that.”

  “Sunny, what are you talking about?” my boyfriend demands in a voice that seems to indicate he’s more annoyed at me than proud of my excellent detective work. What’s up with that? “Of course she went to Oxford.”

  I feel bad having to tell him the truth. But it’s for his own good and will save us all from much frustration later. “But she didn’t, actually. I asked her some questions about the school and she was completely clueless. Hell, the girl didn’t even know about this famous teacher I Googled.”

  “Sunny, Oxford is a huge school. Maybe she didn’t have that professor.”

  “No, you don’t understand—”

  But Magnus cuts me off. “I think I do,” he says, looking at me with pity. “Sunny, I think you’re feeling a bit jealous of Jane. Which is perfectly understandable, given the circumstances. But please, I beg you, let’s not make this situation even more difficult than it already is, okay?”

  I stare at him, speechless. I can’t believe it. He’s not even going to listen to me. He’s going to go ahead and make her his blood mate no matter what I say. Second in command of the Blood Coven. And who knows what kind of nefarious things she’ll do once she’s placed in the position of power. She’ll be just like Lucifent’s blood mate, trying to take over. And then Magnus will be forced to kill her, which will get Slayer Inc. on his ass. And then they’ll commission Rayne to slay him and my own twin sister will basically be forced to murder my boyfriend.

  I can’t let this happen. I have to get him to believe me about Jane. But it’s clear I need more evidence. Irrefutable proof that this Jane girl is a big fat fake.

  “When are you going to do the blood mate thing with her?” I ask, needing to know how much time I have to make my case.

  He relaxes visibly, probably assuming I’ve given in. Which means he obviously doesn’t know me very well. “On Friday night,” he explains. “When we’re in Vegas for the consortium. The Blood Coven will host a traditional biting ceremony at midnight, where I will make Jane a vampire in front of all the other coven masters who will be in town for the meetings.”

  In other words, just like a freaking wedding.

  “It’ll actually be really good PR for the coven,” Magnus adds, as if I care about something like that. “After all, we’ve had a tough year. First the screwup with me biting you by mistake last spring, then Maverick’s attempted takeover, which permanently weakened a good many of our members. Not to mention Jareth—the coven general himself!—daring to bring a slayer into another coven’s lair without even telling them who she was. All I can say is thank God your sister didn’t stake anyone while she was there. It would have been devastating for our reputation.”

  I can see his point, but that still doesn’t change anything. “Can I come?” I ask. “I’ve never been to Vegas.”

  “You have school,” Magnus reminds me. What is he, my dad? “And anyway, it’ll be really boring for you. I’ll be stuck in meetings all night and will barely have any time to see you. This isn’t a vacation, you know.”

  Of course. He doesn’t want me to go. Mainly because he’s already going with Jane. Big fake-ass Jane who I know for a fact did not get some fancy degree from Oxford like she says she did. In fact, I bet she’s never even set foot on the university grounds.

  “Fine,” I say, rising to my feet, done with this scene. “Have a nice trip. I’ll see you when you get back. Maybe.”

  And with that, I turn tail. I can hear Magnus calling after me as I storm from the café and back into the dance hall, but I don’t turn around.

  I need to find Rayne. She’ll know what to do.

  6

  “Okay, okay, here I am,” Rayne says as she slides into the passenger seat of our car. “What’s the big emergency?”

  She hadn’t wanted to leave the club, claiming she’d requested an Apoptygma Berzerk song and the DJ was sure to play it any moment now. I had to go so far as to remind her that the two of us had once shared a womb, which left her morally obligated to sacrifice certain dance numbers to come to my aid if/when I suffered a time of need. (And I definitely felt, under the circumstances, I qualified right now as particularly needy.) Even with that logic, she refused to adhere to this twin code of honor unless I agreed to grant her a “just three more songs” exception. Some loyal twin sister she is.

  I, on the other hand, had gone straight to the car (Apoptygma Berzerk sounds like a disease I don’t want to catch) and sat in the driver’s seat with the radio turned up (to a much more sensible Katy Perry tune), trying not to cry as I waited for her to finish getting her dance on. I couldn’t believe that only yesterday all I’d been concerned with was whether or not to go all the way. Now I was worried about losing my boyfriend altogether. To a girl who may or may not have devious designs to kill him, nonetheless.

  “It’s Jane,” I explain as Rayne slams the car door shut behind her and promptly proceeds to turn off the radio. Not a big Katy Perry fan, my sister. Some random moral stance about pseudo lesbianism practiced solely to get the attention of horny boys. Which is, like, totally whatever. I mean, I just think her tunes are catchy.

  “I thought we talked about this, Sun,” Rayne says, sounding a bit out of breath and more than a bit exasperated. “Magnus loves you. It’s so obvious.”

  “Then why doesn’t he want me to come to Vegas with him?”

  Rayne’s eyes light up. “Vegas?” she questions. “What about Vegas?”

  “You know, that big vampire consortium thing they’re having this week. Where all the coven leaders meet to discuss world events or whatever.”

  “They’re having it in Vegas?” Rayne cries.

  “Yeah.” I look over at her. “Didn’t Jareth tell you?”

  “He mentioned the consortium thingy a while back, but he’s not going. Has some overseas business to take care of for the coven.” Jareth had been reinstated to his post as Magnus’s general once he got his vampire powers back and he’s been working like mad ever since, trying to make up for lost time, I guess.

  “He never said it was in Las Vegas though!” Rayne’s eyes shine. “I love Vegas. All those neon lights and tacky tourists. All those hopes and dreams and big-stakes poker games. Not to mention there are Elvis’s everywhere. In fact, I think you can even get married by Elvis in Vegas. Could you imagine getting married by Elvis? That would seriously be the best wedding ever. Not that I necessarily want to get married. But if I did, it’d definitely rock to have Elvis as my minister.”

  Really, sometimes I think the girl has a serious case of undiagnosed ADD. “You’re missing the point here,” I say, interrupting her Vegas visions of grandeur.

  “Which is . . . ?”

  “He’s taking Jane with him. To Vegas. And they’re going to have some big ceremony where he’s going to make her his blood mate in front of all the coven leaders in the world. It’s like this close to being a wedding.”

  “Ooh! Maybe they could have a vampire Elvis preside over the ceremony. There’s got to be a vampire Elvis or two, right? In fact, maybe the real-life Elvis is now a vampire. That could be why people still see him every now and then in the frozen foods section of their local grocery stores.”

  “I swear to God, Rayne . . .”

  She laughs. “Okay, okay. Jeez, I was just trying to cheer you up.” She pats my arm in her patented patronizing manner that I hate. “So he’s going to get hitched in Vegas. What does it matter? I mean, he’s going to do it somewhere and, hey, at least if he’s there you don’t have to watch, right?”

  “If you’d just listen to me for one tiny minute . . .”

  “Sorry. I’m all ears.”

  “Jane’s a fake. A big, fat fake. I asked her a question about Oxford—the school she claims to have gotten her degree at—and she knows nothing about it. Not to mention she seems to think Latinas speak Latin . . .”

  Rayne raises an eyebrow. “Oh-kay then.”

  “And if she’s lying about going to Oxford,” I continue, “I can only
wonder what else she could be lying about. What if Jane’s not who they think she is? She could do serious harm to the Blood Coven if installed as Magnus’s right-hand girl.”

  “Hmm,” Rayne muses. “You have a point.” Thank God she’s finally taking me seriously. “Did you talk to Magnus about what you found out?”

  “Yeah. But he just thinks I’m jealous. Which is completely ridiculous.”

  Rayne gives me a pointed look.

  “Okay, okay. Maybe I am a teensy-weensy bit jealous. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” I remind her. Just ’cause I’m paranoid, doesn’t mean they’re not out to get me. “Anyway, originally I was going to spend some time this week investigating her. You know, find out the four-one-one and all that. Gather some more evidence so he’ll take me seriously. But then I found out they’re leaving for Vegas tomorrow. And I can’t exactly figure out what she’s up to if she’s all the way out in Vegas.” I sigh, slouching down in my seat, suddenly weary and depressed. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Well, that’s easy, sis. We go to Vegas, too!”

  Leave it to Rayne to make it sound so simple. “I asked Magnus, but he said I couldn’t go with him. He said I would be bored.”

  “Well, you don’t have to tell him, do you? We’ll just buy airline tickets and fly out there ourselves. In fact, maybe it’s better if Jane doesn’t know you’re coming. After all, she’s got to know you’re suspicious of her at this point. This way she’ll think she’s home free and won’t try to hide her true colors as much.”

  “That’s all well and good, but what about a little woman living in our house named Mom?” I ask. “She’s not exactly going to let us just jet off to Vegas by ourselves.”

  “Sunny, Sunny, Sunny,” Rayne says, again with the patronizing voice. She really needs to cut that out. “Don’t you get it? We’ll play the Dad card.”

  I turn to her, impressed. It’s brilliant. Inspired! Why didn’t I think of that?