Читать книгу KISSES FROM HELL - Alyson Noel, Alyson Noel - Страница 8

“What are you doing here?” he asked after an uneasy silence.

Rhea stared. That Eric guy was the last person she’d expected to see down in the feeders’ area, especially considering he’d just been making out with the brunette in the pool minutes before. It was only the totally stupid nature of his question that allowed her to quickly gather herself. Rhea put one hand on her hip.

“What do you think?” she responded.

“Er, yeah … I mean, I know why you’re here, but …” He was clearly struggling to save himself here, and she wondered how much he’d had to drink. “But I mean, it just seems kind of weird at a party.”

“I can’t have blood before I get on a boat. Otherwise I get sick.” She reconsidered. “Sicker.”

“Oh. Yeah. That makes sense.”

Another awkward pause hung between them. Finally Rhea turned toward the room. “Now that the interrogation’s over, can I go eat?”

“Sure … sure. Do you mind if I … if I hang out with you?”

Rhea couldn’t keep the surprise off her face as she tried to figure out why he would want to stay with her. Earlier on the boat, he’d obviously looked down on her the same way everyone else did for her flawed pedigree. Why show interest now? Not wanting to seem like she cared too much one way or another, she simply entered the room and called back, “Sure.”

There was a Moroi attendant on duty who seemed as surprised as Eric that she was there. The guy marked her off on the list that tracked how often Moroi fed and looked astonished when she asked how he was doing tonight. Rhea had a feeling that most of the royals around here tended to treat the servants like furniture.

“Can I have Dennis?” she asked. “Is he awake?”

The attendant was much more cheerful, now that she’d behaved civilly. “Yup. He’s the last one on the right.”

Rhea smiled and thanked him before walking down the rows of cubicles that sequestered the feeders. At a busier feeding time, all the spaces would have been full, but with the party going on, only a few of the cubicles were occupied. Some of the humans read while waiting for Moroi to come by; others simply stared off into space, blissfully gone on the high of a vampire bite. It was the rush all these humans lived for. They’d been taken from the fringes of human society, outcasts and homeless who were more than happy to give their blood in exchange for the ecstasy it brought. The Moroi also took care of them, giving the humans plenty of food and comfortable accommodations.

“Who’s Dennis?” asked Eric, walking beside Rhea. He smelled like chlorine and was dripping puddles with each step. Nonetheless, she still found him oddly attractive, which frustrated her.

“He’s a feeder who came from my school,” she explained. She couldn’t help a small smile when she thought of Dennis. “He’s sweet. He always asks for me to come back to him.”

The look Eric gave her told her that he thought it was all ridiculous. Her smile vanished, and she quickened her pace to Dennis’s cubicle. Dennis was one of the humans simply content to stare off and do nothing until his next fix. But as soon as he saw her, he straightened to attention, nearly leaping out of his chair.

“Rhea!” he exclaimed. “I thought you’d forgotten me. It’s been so long.”

Rhea sat down in the chair beside him. She felt the smile creeping back to her lips. He was only a little older than her, but there was something cute and childlike about him. She always wanted to pat his messy brown hair back into place.

“It hasn’t been that long,” she said. “It’s only been a day.”

Dennis frowned, apparently trying to decide if that was true or not. It was easy for feeders to lose track of time. His eyes lifted to where Eric leaned against the cubicle’s entrance. Dennis’s enraptured look changed to a frown.

“Who’s that?” Dennis asked suspiciously.

“That’s Eric,” she said soothingly. “He’s … my friend.” Was he? She wasn’t sure, but it was best not to agitate Dennis.

“I don’t like him,” Dennis declared. “He has weird eyes.”

“I like his eyes,” Rhea said, still trying to be gentle. “They’re neat.”

Dennis turned back to her, and seeing her face, his expression softened. He sighed happily. “I like your eyes. They’re beautiful. Like you.”

She shook her head ruefully. She was used to his dreamy behavior, but Eric seemed offended by it. Like so many, he regarded feeders as objects. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

Dennis eagerly tilted his neck, giving her full access. The skin there might have been smooth once, but now it was covered with the faint bruises of constant biting. Still, Rhea had no trouble sinking her fangs into his flesh and drinking the warm, sweet blood that was as essential to her survival as the solid food she ate. Dennis managed a small, happy sigh, and both of them shared a minute or so of total joy.

When she finished and pulled away, Dennis turned to her with bright, ecstatic eyes. “You don’t have to stop,” he said. “You can take more.”

He always made that offer, but Moroi were trained from an early age about the strict limits to how much they could take. It was what allowed these humans to survive the constant feedings. Plus, limitations steered Moroi away from that ultimate sin: Becoming a Strigoi by drinking all of a person’s blood.

Rhea wiped her mouth and rose. Dennis started to stand as well and then sank back down, addled by the dizziness that usually followed a feeding. “Will you come back?” he pleaded. “Soon?”

“I’ll be back as soon as I always am,” she said. “Tomorrow.”

Dennis looked unhappy about this, like usual, but reluctantly nodded in acceptance as she left. Eric followed in her wake, thoughtful and quiet, but suddenly burst out at her the second they stepped back into the hall.

“Are you crazy?” he asked.

Startled, she stopped so quickly that he bumped into her. They both froze at that contact, and then he hastily stepped back.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

Eric pointed at the door. “That. That guy’s out of his mind.”

“He’s a feeder,” she replied. “They’re all kind of that way.”

“No. He’s different. He’s obsessed with you.”

“He just knows me, that’s all. I told you—he’s from my school. I’ve been talking to him and feeding from him for the last couple of years.”

“That’s the problem.”

“What, feeding?”

Eric shook his head. “No. Talking to him. You should just get your blood and go.”

Rhea couldn’t believe she’d almost been reconsidering her first impression of Eric. “Oh, of course. Feeders aren’t people to you, right? Not worthy of your notice unless they’re part of your royal world?”

“No! I just think you’re encouraging him to … I don’t know. The way he looked at you. He doesn’t seem … safe.”

“He’s fine,” she argued. “He’s a feeder. He’s not going anywhere.”

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” Eric grumbled.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t think you have any right to tell me what to do!” she exclaimed, trying to keep her voice down. “You don’t even know me. And you made your feelings about me clear earlier.”

A sudden panicked look crossed his face. A moment later, he smoothed his features back to pseudocalmness. “What are you talking about?”

“Back on the yacht. It’s obvious you don’t think I have any right being with Stephen since my bloodline’s not as pure.”

“I—what?” Eric looked truly startled. “No! No, that’s not it at all. I didn’t even know about that when we met.”

“Sure,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Then why were you so surprised about our engagement?”

“Because … I mean, because you’re so different. You saw him out there in the pool. You just don’t seem like that type.”

“What type? The fun type? Are you saying I’m boring?”

“No!” Eric wore the desperate look of someone trying to dig himself out of a hole, only to see the sides cave in. “You’re so quiet and … serious. He’s not.”

“He has his moments. And I was out having fun too, you know. I had a drink. I danced.” Her words came out in more of a defensive tone than she intended, probably because Stephen was also always telling her she didn’t live it up enough. She really had been out there in the thick of the party, trying to share in his wild side just as he sometimes attempted her more decorous behavior. Stephen certainly excelled at making a spectacle of himself, but he did have a quieter side. “Just because I didn’t make an idiot of myself doesn’t mean I’m some kind of recluse.”

“That’s not what I—damn it!” Eric took a step toward her, frustration all over him. He raked a hand through his platinum hair. “This wasn’t how I wanted this to be at all.”

Her fury dimmed for a moment, turning to confusion. “What was it you wanted?”

“I—nothing, nothing. Forget it. Just be careful with Dennis. Go use a different feeder next time.”

“Thanks for the advice I didn’t ask for.”

He sighed and seemed to be working hard to control his temper. “I’m just looking out for you, that’s all.”

His eyes suddenly lifted to something beyond her. Turning around, Rhea saw the brown-haired girl he’d been with earlier standing farther down the hall, watching them. Like Eric, she was dripping water everywhere. Her expression was hard to identify exactly, but Rhea felt pretty confident it wasn’t happy.

“Hi, Emma,” he said, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but in that hall right now.

“Hey,” Emma replied stiffly. “I tried to find you, and someone said they saw you down here. Weren’t you going to change clothes?”

“Yeah … I just ran into Rhea, and we started talking about Stephen’s amazing dive.”

Rhea arched an eyebrow and toyed with the idea of contradicting him. But the more she studied Emma, the more Rhea could now see that the other girl’s expression was obvious jealousy. It was nothing Rhea wanted to get involved in, so she allowed him his lie.

Eric put on a big smile, catching Rhea by surprise. In their brief acquaintance, his few smiles had always been small or melancholy. But this … this smile went a long way to win Emma over, and even Rhea felt her breath catch a little.

“See you around,” he told Rhea breezily. He walked past her and put an arm around Emma, leaning his face close to hers. “Now that you’re here, maybe you can help me change after all.”

Rhea repressed a grimace, but his remark erased the last signs of jealousy on Emma’s face. She cuddled up against Eric and made some vague good-bye to Rhea. Rhea watched the two of them stroll off, whispering and laughing, and was surprised to feel a pang of sadness inside her chest.

Immediately she shook it off and decided she’d just go to bed. Why should she care what this Eric guy said or did? She’d barely exchanged a dozen words with him. Resolved, she started to head upstairs toward her room. A moment later, she reconsidered and decided to tell Stephen good night.

Unsurprisingly, he was still outside, in the center of the party. He was soaked to the bone, and she wondered how many times he’d been in the lagoon. Vampires liked Chile in the winter because of the shorter sunlight, but the night was growing increasingly chilly. Liquor could only warm you up so much. Stephen didn’t seem to notice the temperature and was telling some story about the time he and some friends had broken into their math teacher’s office. The story involved vodka and ferrets.

Rhea smiled in spite of herself and waved at him as she emerged from the house. Catching sight of her, he gave her a big grin and put his story on hold.

“Hey, babe,” he said, coming over to her. He reached out for a dripping hug.

She laughed. “No way.”

He gave her an exaggerated sad face and then settled for a brief kiss on her lips, making sure to lean in far enough so she wouldn’t get wet.

“Acceptable?” he asked triumphantly.

“Very. I just wanted you to know I’m heading to bed.”

This time, his sad expression was real. “But we’re going to set some shots on fire. You could help.”

“That’s not quite the use of my magic I had in mind. At least being so soaked, you probably don’t have to worry about catching on fire yourself.”

“That’s true,” he agreed, apparently thinking of it for the first time. His face softened slightly. “We’ll talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Eric might think Stephen was just some loud, in-your-face guy, but Rhea had learned long ago that her fiancé possessed a fair amount of vulnerability that few ever saw. As far as she could tell, she was the only one he ever showed that side to. He seemed to take comfort from her, like he needed to express his softer side in order to balance that other rowdy part of him. They’d grown up around each other, almost like siblings, and the engagement had seemed perfectly natural. They were both used to having the other around.

He squeezed her hand—his was wet, naturally—and then gave her another quick kiss before returning to his audience.