Kisses from Hell Read online

  “Go to hell.”

  I turned to Neil. “We can ask whether he’s contacted his coconspirators yet, but either way he’ll say he has, just to freak us out, hope we’ll take off and let him go.”

  “You’re right. There’s nothing we can get from him.” Neil backed up a few inches, making Chad wince. “I can knock him out, but your method seems safer.”

  Chad struggled again then. It didn’t do him any good. A little more pressure on the arm and Chad was screaming. A quick bite on the neck and he stopped screaming.

  This time, though, I forced myself to stop as soon as blood filled my mouth.

  “You’re hungry,” Neil said as I rose from Chad’s unconscious body. “You should drink more. If the book is right, he’ll only wake up weak, as if he donated blood. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it. And there’s no sense turning down a free meal.”

  How many times had I given Marguerite crap for ignoring an opportunity to eat? Or told her off for trying to hide her feeding from me? Rolled my eyes and said she was being stupid about it. She had to eat and I understood that. Just consider it a blood donation to save a life—hers.

  Easy to say when you’re on the other side. But crouching here beside an unconscious kid, even a jerk like Chad, while having another guy watching you, a guy who wasn’t a jerk, but maybe someone you’d like to impress…

  “I’m good,” I said, rising.

  “Katiana…”

  “I don’t feed like that. I get my meals from the blood bank.”

  He frowned. “The journal says vampires need fresh—”

  “My guardian doesn’t want me to hunt yet.”

  “Okay, but you didn’t hunt him, so…I mean, if you don’t want to, sure. It just seemed, back there, like you did want—” He flushed. “Sorry. I’ll shut up now.”

  He knelt beside Chad and started patting him down for a phone. Neil had a point. It wasn’t like Chad didn’t deserve to wake up feeling like hell. This was what I’d wanted, right? Not just drink a single mouthful, like I had with the other guy, but to take a full meal straight from the source, see if it made any difference. See if it dulled the edge.

  But I couldn’t do it. I don’t know if it was the thought of feeding off someone I knew or of doing it in front of Neil. I wanted to—oh God, I wanted to—but I couldn’t.

  When I glanced over at Neil, he was holding his glasses. It looked like they’d been a casualty of my bout with Chad, stomped underfoot.

  “I knew I should have worn my contacts yesterday,” he said, trying for a smile.

  He ran his hand through his hair, shoving it back from his face as he squinted and blinked. Without glasses, Neil wasn’t magically transformed into a sex god. He just looked a little less like a guy who should be planted behind a computer monitor and a little more like one who could manage a first-rate throw-down and pin. Definitely cute though—with or without the glasses.

  I shook the thought off. Really not the time for that.

  “Can you see?” I asked.

  “Well enough.” He tossed the glasses aside, retrieved the gun, and held it out. “You may want to be in charge of this, though.”

  “Can you still shoot?”

  He shrugged. “Sure, but—”

  “Can you avoid shooting figures with brown hair, blue jeans, denim jackets, and”—I looked down at my feet—“dirty white sneakers?”

  A genuine smile. “I can.”

  “Then keep the gun. I have no idea how to use one. Now we should see if Chad did ditch a cell phone. It’s a long shot, but we need to head back to the road anyway. Maybe we can find his trail.”

  We did. It wasn’t hard. Chad was no backwoodsman, and we didn’t need to be trackers to find his trampled path through the undergrowth. I followed a detour where he’d walked deeper into the brush, then returned, and at the end of that path, under the bushes, I found a phone.

  “Do you think there’s anything I should know about using it?” I asked Neil. “Maybe a GPS that needs to be disabled?”

  “My tech skills are limited to being able to turn things on and operate them. In other words, zero on the geek scale.”

  I glanced over at him. “I wasn’t assuming. I was just asking.”

  “Did I sound defensive?”

  “A little.”

  A rueful smile. “Sorry.”

  I turned the phone on and waited to see if anything would happen. Then I checked for outgoing calls. One had been made twenty minutes ago. Damn.

  Before I called Marguerite, I needed some idea of where we were. Neil thought he’d seen a sign on the side road he’d been supposed to take. We found a path heading in roughly the direction we needed to go. Once we found the sign, which promised a town two miles away, I dialed Marguerite’s cell number. On the second ring she answered with a wary, “Allo?”

  “Miss me yet?” I said.

  “Katiana! Where are you? What happened to you? Are you all right? Are you hurt? They called, the police, about the car. The accident. I said the car was stolen, but I have been looking everywhere, calling everyone—”

  “I’m fine. Just kidnapped by bounty hunters rounding up missing vamps from the experiment.”

  A pause, then, “That is not funny, Kat.”

  “You think I’m kidding? I wish. I’m with another guy they grabbed. Neil…” I tried to remember his last name. “Walsh. Neil Walsh.”

  “Actually, it’s Waller,” Neil said. “Walsh is the name my parents have been using since they left the experiment.”

  Marguerite overheard and said, yes, she remembered Neil. She warned us not to call his parents on the phone we’d found. If it was owned by Chad, our captors could check their billing and which numbers we’d called. I hadn’t thought of that. Neil agreed. We’d get to the town and lie low until she could pick us up. Then Neil could notify his parents from a pay phone.

  As we walked, Neil fussed with the gun, taking a better look at it and checking the ammunition, saying, “If those guys find us, we might actually need to use it.”

  “I’m sorry about earlier,” I said. “With Chad. I wouldn’t have shot you.”

  “You needed to see how we’d react. While I’m not eager to be turned, I’d rather do that than go back to the Edison Group. My parents told me…things.” He let the word drop, heavy, and stared at the gun, lost in thought. Then he turned it over in his hands. “It appears to be police issue.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Only that it may mean we’re dealing with someone who knows how to fire a gun significantly better than I do.”

  “We’ll be fine. You’ve got some killer aikido skills to fall back on. Speaking of which…That might be a popular choice with cops, but there’s no way you picked that up in a co-op term. What level are you?”

  “In the black belts.”

  I had to press him for more than that, and after some waffling about nonstandard terminology, he admitted he was fourth-degree.

  “Seriously? I just made third. Damn.”

  “Sorry.”

  I laughed. “Is that why you didn’t want to tell me? You think I’d be pissed because you’re a higher level? It just gives me something to strive for. Can’t have a guy beating me.”

  I grinned, and when I did, he gave me this look, like…I don’t know. He just stared at me. Then he glanced away fast, cheeks flushing.

  “Any other martial arts?” I asked as we walked.

  “Just that. I’m not much of an athlete, but I like lunch.”

  “Huh?”

  “In fifth grade we moved to a new city and there was this kid, a head taller than me. He decided my lunch money was a good way to supplement his income.”

  “And you needed a way to keep it.”

  “Yes, but I prefer using my head to my fists, so I thought I could outwit him by brown-bagging it. He took that. I switched to health food. He’d still take it…and throw it in the trash. So, I could either humiliate myself by digging through the garbage every da
y or learn a form of self-defense. I did my research. Aikido seemed a good choice for what I wanted and, as you said, it’s popular with law enforcement, which is a bonus.”

  “That’s what you want to be? A cop?”

  He studied me, like he was trying to see if I was mocking him. That was getting annoying. When he saw that I was serious, he said, “A detective. That’s what I’m good at—problem solving.”

  He asked about my meeting in New York, carefully though, like he didn’t want to pry. I explained and said he should talk to his parents, see if they could come. He might not be a vampire yet, but if they weren’t sure what lay in store for him, this would help.

  “I’m sure they’ll agree,” he said. “They want to help me, and I think it would be good to keep in touch.” He paused. “Not that I expect—” He cleared his throat. “I understand that under the circumstances, we’ve been thrown together, and while I’d like to go to this meeting with you, I know it won’t be with you.”

  “English translation please?”

  Another throat clearing as he pushed low branches aside. “We got caught up in this together. We pooled our resources to get out. But once we are out…” He raked his hair back again. “I’m not one of those guys who thinks that if the popular girls ask for homework help, it means they want to hang out after school.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m just saying…” He trailed off, starting and stopping a few times before glancing over, dark eyes meeting mine. “I think you know what I’m saying, Katiana.”

  “I sure as hell hope not, because it sounds like you’re saying that after I’ve used you to escape, you expect me to walk away, pretend I don’t know you.”

  “You didn’t use me.”

  “Whatever.” I turned in his path, facing him. “You’re saying you know my type, which apparently means you know me. That’s rich, coming from the guy who got his back up when I asked if he knew about cell phone technology. Hell, I’m not even sure I have a type anymore, unless you’ve met a whole lot of teenage vampires.”

  “No, I do believe you’re the first.”

  He smiled, but I wasn’t buying it, and I sure as hell wasn’t returning it.

  “Maybe that’s the problem,” I said. “Not that you think I’m some dumb jock who wanted your answers on the escape-from-evil quiz, but because of what else I am. Not exactly sure you want to hang out after school with a vampire.”

  “Of course not. I—”

  “I make you nervous. You’re trying to hide it, but you can’t help it. I get that. I expect that. Just have the balls to say so instead of laying down the post-escape ground rules before we even get to the post-escape stage.”

  He opened his mouth. I wheeled and stalked off.

  “Katiana,” he called, as loudly as he dared.

  I kept going, walking fast, branches whipping behind me. He started coming after me, but after a minute, his footsteps stopped. I wasn’t surprised.

  I shouldn’t be too hard on him. Can’t blame a guy for not wanting to get chummy with a parasite. At least he’d made the effort, which was more than I could say for Chad, and probably more than I’d be able to say for most people I’d meet in my life. Marguerite had two sets of friends: temporary ones who didn’t know what she was, and other vampires. This was just the first lesson in a class I’d be taking for a very long time, so I’d better—

  A crack sounded behind me. Not a “branch underfoot” crack, but one that sent my insides ramming up into my throat. I spun just as another shot fired. Something buzzed past my ear. A bullet embedded itself in the tree…where my head had been just a second ago.

  I hit the ground. Even as I dropped, I knew it was the wrong move. Bullets can’t kill me. Not lead. Not iron. Not holy-water-blessed silver. Don’t duck and hide. Move!

  I scrambled into the undergrowth as another shot whizzed past.

  Who—? Okay, that was the stupid question of the week. Who was shooting at me? The guy with a gun and, fortunately, without his glasses.

  I should have known. God, I should have known. Chad was right. Neil had been too calm about the whole vampire situation. Completely cool with it…right up to the moment when he decided to get twitchy and send me stomping off.

  If he wasn’t with the bounty hunters, though, who was he? What did he want with me? Did it matter? Not when there were bullets whipping past my head. I didn’t want to think of what kind of condition I’d be in, waiting for my brain to heal after getting a chunk blasted out.

  I crawled along the ground as quietly as I could. The shots stopped. Silence fell as he listened for me.

  I’d been raised for situations like this. Sad, I know, being prepared for a life that might involve bullets, bounty hunters, and unlawful confinement. But Marguerite had known what I was in for, and not preparing it for me would be as neglectful as not giving me a warm jacket for a Montreal winter.

  As much self-defense training as I had, though, she’d drilled in one lesson above all others: Fighting back was a last resort. Whenever possible, run. For once, though, I had no intention of taking her advice.

  I’d already been duped by Chad. Blinded by a desperate need for validation, for the friendship of kids who knew what I was. So I’d missed the signs with him, and now, even worse, with Neil. I wasn’t letting him get away with it.

  So I circled back in the direction of the gunfire. After a few minutes, I caught a whispered voice. Neil on a cell phone? I hoped so, but when I heard a second voice, that hope fizzled.

  If I faced more than just Neil, I should run. But I needed a closer look first. Needed to know what I was up against.

  When I was close enough to see figures, I found a suitable tree and climbed. I’m good at that. I used to think I’d turn out to be a werecat—hence my nickname. Obviously not, but I’m still a damned fine climber.

  I got high enough to be safe, then shimmied along a branch until I could see three figures. Two men I didn’t recognize, plus Neil. They were talking to him. I strained to listen. When I couldn’t hear anything, I inched out a little more. Then a little more.

  The branch groaned. I froze. Neil’s gaze lifted. Our eyes met. His lips parted in a curse.

  “What?” one of the guys said.

  “Shot,” Neil said, quickly looking away. “I said I think you must have shot her. She’s gone for help.” A glance up my way and he said, louder, “Gone for help.”

  He shifted, and I realized his arms were bound behind his back.

  Well, that changed things. As much as I’d love to swoop in, be the hero, save the guy, I wasn’t an idiot. Two armed men versus one sixteen-year-old girl? Martial arts expert or not, the odds weren’t far enough in my favor to risk it. Better to get Marguerite for backup.

  I retreated along the branch. It creaked…and this time, both men heard it.

  A gun swung my way. I jumped to the next tree. I managed to catch a branch. Then my weight hit, and the branch gave a tremendous crack.

  I dropped square onto one of Neil’s captors. He went down, me on top of him. Neil kicked the other guy in the back of the knees. He toppled. Another bone-crunching kick in the jaw sent him reeling back.

  My opponent had fallen easily, but he wasn’t staying down. We rolled on the ground—him trying to grab his gun, me trying to sink in my fangs—then both achieved our goal at almost the same time. His weapon of choice was faster. Mine was scarier, and when my fangs sank in, he panicked, firing wildly, the bullet zooming past my arm. It was the last shot he fired.

  Neil’s match was giving him even more trouble. Having both hands tied behind your back can do that. I took over. It was a short fight. All I had to do was flash my fangs, dripping blood, and you’d have thought I was a thousand-pound tiger with canines big enough to rip off his arm. The guy backpedaled. Neil kicked the gun out of his hand. I leaped on him. Game over.

  As I rose from sedating the second guy, Neil said softly, “Why?”

  “Because they’re
assholes,” I said as I walked over to untie him. “Greedy assholes.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  He gave me a look that said I knew what he meant—why wouldn’t I feed?

  I looked down at the unconscious man. Why indeed? Here it was—my last chance to see if it made a difference. With Chad, I could say that I didn’t like the idea of feeding on someone I’d met. Didn’t like the way it smacked of revenge. Really didn’t like the way it made me exactly the kind of bloodsucking monster he’d thought I was.

  But why not these guys? Because I didn’t want Neil to see me? In those few minutes when I thought he’d betrayed me, I’d realized how badly I’d wanted him to be okay with me, with what I was. For someone my age to say, “I know what you are and I don’t care.”

  Was this how I was going to live? Ashamed of what I was? Compelled to hide the worst of it, even from someone who knew the truth? No. I was still the same person I’d always been, and if people like Neil couldn’t handle the uglier parts of my new life, there was nothing I could do about it. Nothing I should do. What happened to me wasn’t my fault.

  “I should,” I said.

  “Yes, you should.”

  “Will you—?” I cleared my throat. “Will you watch? I mean, not watch, but watch him, make sure he’s okay. Make sure I don’t…overdo it?”

  “Good idea.”

  I crouched over the guy, then maneuvered so Neil could monitor his vital signs while not seeing me drink. Awkward. Silly, too, and as soon as I started to drink, I forgot that. All those glasses of warmed-over blood were like day-old doughnuts. This was what I craved. What I needed. It wasn’t just a meal. It was…I don’t know how to describe it. Like eating the best food imaginable, while curled up in the most comfortable chair, listening to my favorite music.