She came around an oak, the leaves hanging over her head like a crown. She was as pale and slender as a shaft of moonlight. She moved slowly toward me, feral and predatory.
I waggled the tube. “Come on, Sol. I know you want it.”
The sun steadily pushed its way over the horizon. I could see it in the fatigue in Solange’s face, under the hunger. And I could feel it in my bones, turning them to water. I struggled against it. This was definitely the worst part of being a young vampire. If we got caught out here we’d be vulnerable. If the sunlight didn’t weaken us to the point of death, something else would come along and finish the job. A well-meaning hiker who’d take us to the hospital where lab tests would prove disconcerting, or else an anti-treaty Helios-Ra hunter who knew exactly how to dispatch us. Or even a human loyal to a vampire family who didn’t particularly care for the Drakes.
I had to hurry.
I circled around so that I was in the lead and then headed toward the farmhouse.
“Come and get it,” I told her grimly.
We were on Drake land when she caught up to me.
“Give it to me!” Her nails scraped into my hand. She grabbed the tube and licked the glass rim, tilting it for a greedy mouthful. There wasn’t much in there but she gulped at it like it was water and she’d been lost in the desert for a year.
Then she spat the whole mouthful out without swallowing.
“Gross. What the hell’s in there? Tastes like medicine.” She grimaced, throwing the tube at my head. I caught it and slipped it back into my pocket. There was just enough blood left to smear the inside of the tube, like stained glass. One thing was for sure—Chloe’s vitamins were definitely not vitamins.
“There’s blood at the house,” I told her. “We’re nearly there.”
I grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the squares of lamplight. We reached the house just as the light sent spears of fire between the branches. Solange was asleep on her feet, sliding onto the porch floor like a silk scarf. The lethargy was so sudden, so deep that I was limping when I fell, dragging her through the door.
Chapter 19
Hunter
Sunday afternoon
The next day came entirely too soon. Will was still dead, we didn’t know if Spencer would get better, and now my head felt like I’d landed on it repeatedly during the night even though I hadn’t gotten drunk.
All in all, not exactly an improvement.
Chloe made a weird sound, like a grunt, as she pulled her pillow over her head. “I hate my life,” she added.
“I hate your schnapps,” I said, squinting at the alarm clock’s digital numbers: 2:03 P.M. It felt way earlier. “It makes you snore like a horse.”
“Karma,” Chloe maintained from the depths of her covers. “That’s what you get for stealing.”
I snorted. “You steal chocolate from me all the time.”
She poked one eye out from her pillow. “You know about that?”
“Well, duh,” I said. I shuffled from the hall to the bathroom. It felt as if I hadn’t gotten any sleep at all. There were way too many students running around, unpacking and reconnecting with friends they hadn’t seen all summer. Someone squealed.
“Can we stake her?” Jenna begged, coming out of one the stalls and wiping her mouth. She stood at the mirror looking miserable. Even her freckles looked miserable. Then she winced at her choice of words. “Sorry.” She filled the sink with cold water.
“Any word from Spencer?” I asked.
“None.” Jenna shook her head, then moaned at the movement. “But as soon as I’m sure my head won’t crack right open, let’s go see Theo.”
“Okay.” I finally caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. “Gack!”
Never mind the haggard combination of my too-pale complexion and dark smudges of fatigue; there was also a mottled bruise under my cheekbone from last night’s fight. I poked it gingerly, hissed out a breath. Jenna toweled her face, finally looked at me, and winced.
“That looks painful.”
“I guess I should learn to duck faster.” I poked at it again and sighed. “At least he didn’t give me a black eye.”
“How’s Chloe?”
“Same. Seen Jason yet?” Someone let one of the bathroom stall doors slam shut and Jenna clutched her head and whimpered. “Ow! That’s it,” she said, shuffling down the hall like an old lady—or an asylum patient. “I’m calling Jason. I hope the phone rings right in his ear. He’s so not escaping this hangover.”
Simon walked past us, eating a sandwich. I didn’t know him personally but Jenna had been crushing on him from afar for two full years. She tried to smile at him.
Instead she threw up on his shoes.
“What the hell, man?” He leaped back, crashing into the wall. “Gross.”
Jenna turned bright red and ran all the way back to her room.
I felt sure she was never going to drink again. Simon just stood in the hall. “What is wrong with the girls at this school?” he muttered.
I eventually wove my way around suitcases and went back to my room. Chloe was still a lump of disgruntled blankets.
“Are you dead?” I asked.
“Zombie,” she answered. “Don’t tell my Supernatural Creatures prof. She’ll try to decapitate me.” She pulled her blanket over her face. “On second thought, decapitation sounds soothing. Hook me up.”