Kisses from Hell Page 3

  He came to a halt, suddenly realizing he had no clue what it was he wanted to say.

  Four

  “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 ty
pe.”

  “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.

  Five

  Emma was easy enough to soothe once Eric brought her back to his bedroom. She seemed much more interested in helping take his clothes off than discussing what had happened with Rhea, particularly since neither of them ended up putting on dry clothes or returning to the party.

  Alcohol eventually made Emma fall into a heavy sleep, but as he lay in bed with her in his arms, he discovered he wasn’t as lucky. The sounds of the party outside wound down. It was getting pretty late for the Moroi and he knew the dark-tinted windows would eventually be lightening, sending most of his friends to bed. He stared at the ceiling, growing more and more sober, thinking about Rhea Daniels.

  And really, it made no sense. Aside from those first few moments when they met, the two of them had yet to have a friendly conversation. Everything he said seemed to make her mad, and he couldn’t figure out why. He knew he shouldn’t worry about it. Who cared if she was touchy about everything? If she wanted to keep picking a fight, that was her problem. He’d have nothing to do with her.

  And yet…no matter how often he told himself that, he still couldn’t shake the image of her radiant hair or wise eyes. Who needed the sun if you were around her? In those first moments on the boat, when she’d truly seemed to get how he felt about his mother, he’d had a brief flash of someone really and sincerely understanding him. No, more than that. Someone who actually cared. Although her attentions hadn’t been directed at him, he’d sensed that same characteristic in her when she’d spoken to the feeding room attendant and even that crazy Dennis guy. Rhea paid attention to people, to individuals.

  He finally fell asleep, only to wake to a pounding headache. Emma, as always, displayed no symptoms of a hangover. She gave him a long, lingering kiss and tugged back on her still damp dress, promising to meet up with him in an hour to get blood before the next set of activities. They didn’t know exactly what was going on, but Jared had promised something entertaining.

  When Eric joined Emma, she had changed and was as fresh and beautiful as ever, with no sign of her earlier disarrayed state. Eric had discovered his own shower had erased most of his headache, and linking hands with her, he allowed himself to relax and make an effort to enjoy the day.

  The feeding area was much busier in the vampiric morning, since that was a preferred time to take blood. Eric and Emma stood in line, chatting with friends who looked like they’d done a bit too much partying. Someone came by with a stash of doughnuts pilfered from the breakfast buffet and passed the pastries out to the waiting group as appetizers to the blood.

  When they reached the front of the line, Eric saw that a different attendant was on duty today. She marked their names on her list and waited for the next opening. When it came, she turned to Emma and
said, “Go ahead, down to Dennis on the right.”

  Eric caught Emma’s arm as she took a step forward. “Don’t.” He turned to the attendant. “We’ll wait for the next one. Let someone else in line go.”

  The attendant started to protest—probably not liking someone dictating her job—but after a moment, she just shrugged and waved in the next person. Emma gave Eric a puzzled look, but another feeder became available before she could question him.

  When they finished, she immediately jumped on the topic while walking back to the main part of the house. “What was that about? The feeder thing? Why did you stop me?”

  “Because that one’s crazy,” Eric replied.

  “They’re feeders,” Emma said. “They’re all crazy.”

  “Not like him. He was the one Rhea went to last night, and I would not want to be under the same roof as him if I were her. He was nuts. Total stalker obsessive type.”

  Emma pondered this and then shook her head. “Yeah, well, it’s not like feeders are out socializing with us. She probably doesn’t have to worry.” There was a carefully calculated pause. “I’m kind of surprised you’re so worried about her.”

  Eric recognized that tone and realized he’d stumbled into dangerous territory. “Not that worried. I hardly know her—but after talking to that guy last night, I would have warned anyone away from him.”

  “You were asking a lot of questions about her yesterday.” Emma still apparently wasn’t convinced of his lack of interest. He sighed, realizing he’d put Rhea on Emma’s radar.

  “All I asked was about Stephen being engaged. Come on, Em. Don’t dig up something that doesn’t even exist.”

  “Okay.” She grinned and squeezed his hand, and he hoped the matter had truly been dropped. “Let’s see what Jared has planned.”

  What Jared had planned was a scavenger hunt. Once the guests (those who had been able to get out of bed) were gathered outside, their host explained the rules. Everyone would be divided into teams of two and be randomly given a clue. That clue would lead to another clue and so on until one of the teams found the ultimate treasure and won the game’s prize: getting to stay in the beach house’s master suite, complete with a Jacuzzi and balcony.