Cryptic Cravings (2 page)

“Don’t . . .” Alexander’s appearance was scornful. Then his eyes softened. “I want to help you. Take care of your cut. But I can’t. Don’t you see how hard it is for me? I can’t even help the one person I love. I can’t come near you or I might—”

Alexander was fighting his natural impulse, and I was fighting mine. He rose up, his hands bal ed up in fists. He was biting his own lip. But I fol owed him.

I held my bloodstained fingers out to him.

I wanted Alexander to crave me more than he already did. Like Sebastian had craved Becky. But was that possible? Alexander was so intense and passionate as it was—was there anything deeper that he could feel or show me? And didn’t he already crave me and my blood without me tempting him in this way?

I wondered if Alexander was right—that I might not like the vampire lifestyle after al , or that my lifelong dream of hiding from the sun and rising by the moonlight might not be as romantic as it seemed. Ultimately, becoming a vampire would be a decision I couldn’t change. A test I couldn’t retake. An il -fitting dress I couldn’t exchange. It would be for life. Forever. For eternity. But this wasn’t about being turned. Alexander and I weren’t on sacred ground. This was about something different.

My boyfriend stared at me, consumed by the scent of blood and the irresistible desire to devour it. “This is what you want? Me to be like the others—Jagger and Sebastian? Impulsive, needy?”

“No. I want you to be you. This was never about being anyone else,” I said.

I could see Alexander was in turmoil. I was tempting him with something that was bigger than a fantasy to him.

This was his everyday reality—a basic desire he had to fight against.

“It’s okay,” I said. I moved back and glanced away from him.

But instead of retreating, too, he stood stil . I could feel his gaze fixed on me with a power that was hypnotic.

“No,” he said. “Don’t go.”

I was surprised by Alexander’s response and heeded his plea. I wasn’t sure what he would do next. I almost gasped. Instead of leaving me, he stepped closer and took my face in his hands.

Alexander was so close to me, his al uring presence took my breath away. He slowly reached his hand to my cheek. I froze as if the events were happening in slow motion. As his firm hand slid seductively along my face, I melted with it. Then he tenderly wiped the blood from my mouth. It was as if he had touched my soul. My blood was now staining his fingers just as it had stained mine.

I waited with bated breath as the biggest moment of my life unfolded. I didn’t think anything could have been dreamier than the first time we kissed or I slept in his coffin. Alexander was moments from taking my blood as his own.

I was suddenly fil ed with guilt and sadness as I thought maybe Alexander was doing this for the wrong reasons.

Maybe I’d just worn him down.

I took his hand and lifted my sleeve to wipe the dripping blood away. “You don’t have to. . . .” I final y said.

Alexander gently blocked my hand with his free one. “I want to,” he said intensely.

The moment seemed surreal, and I felt as if I were in a dream. My body flooded with warmth.

Alexander stared at the dewy blood droplets now trickling down the side of his ghost white palm. It was as if he was making the decision of a lifetime. This wasn’t just any blood to him. It was my blood.

Alexander glanced at me and smiled. His sharp fangs caught the moonlight and glistened like icicles. Then Alexander drew his hand to his mouth. I watched, my mouth agape, as he took his bloody hand to his lips, pressed his hand to his mouth, and the red droplets disappeared. He inhaled a huge audible breath, as if he were breathing the life of me into him.

I gazed at Alexander. He appeared transformed. For a moment it seemed as if his pale complexion was almost alive. Alexander whipped toward me with unbridled intensity. He leaned into me, his hair flopping over his forehead, and kissed me with such force my knees shook and my flesh quivered. I thought I might die of heavenly bliss.

Alexander held me, limp in his arms, and I felt bonded to him in a deeper way than I’d ever experienced. He’d let me into his world, further than ever before.

Alexander squeezed me so tightly, it was as if we were one person. He picked me up and swung me around, the twinkling lights of Dul svil e swirling by me.

When he let me down, we both were giddy and dizzy. When I regained my vision I could see my school, the country club, and the vacant Sinclair Mil off in the distance. It was then I noticed something unusual.

Alexander found me lost in thought.

“What is it?” he said. “I hope you aren’t—”

“No—everything is fine,” I reassured him. “It’s nothing.” I didn’t want anything to break our perfect moment.

“What’s wrong?” he insisted.

I had to squint to make out the object. It was then I could see clearly a familiar car—or, rather, hearse.

I tried to block Alexander’s view by attempting to pull him away, but he didn’t budge.

Alexander was already staring at the barren factory.

His blissful expression sharpened slightly, and I could tell it registered to him that it was Jagger’s car.

I remained in his comforting clutches, bound to my love in a way I hadn’t been before. We clung to each other, both reluctant to break our euphoric encounter and face the situation that we now overlooked.

So Jagger hadn’t gone back to Romania or Hipstervil e when Alexander’s party was over. There had to be a reason why he didn’t return and was apparently staying in the factory.

Alexander and I shared one last kiss before giving over to the distraction that lay at the bottom of the hil .

Not wanting to draw attention to us, Alexander parked the Mercedes in a grassy area more than fifty yards away from the mil . I was stil beaming over Alexander taking my blood as his own. We tiptoed over the gravel road that led to the factory with a connection that couldn’t be broken. As we neared the entrance, the dreamy look in Alexander’s eyes continued and was only slightly marred by his concern over the discovery of Jagger’s presence.

We walked quietly through the shadows, and Alexander squeezed my hand extra tight.

The two antique smokestacks pointed toward the heavens like giant grave markers. The desolate and dilapidated factory was riddled with graffiti, broken and missing windows, rusted doors, and overgrown weeds and grass.

Discarded boxes, trash, and beer cans were scattered around the grounds.

We turned a corner and came upon a vintage black mustang—Sebastian’s ride.

Alexander stopped in his tracks. He sighed and slumped, let down by the discovery that his best friend was in the company of his former nemesis.

“Maybe Sebastian felt he had nowhere else to go,” I offered encouragingly.

“Now that he’s fal en for Luna,” Alexander said, “he’s probably under Jagger’s spel , too.”

Alexander took a deep breath and started for a white wooden door with the words “GET OUT” spray-painted in black.

“Wel , then I guess we’re going in,” I said.

But instead of charging in, Alexander stopped.

“Maybe we should wait,” he said, pausing at the doorway. “They obviously didn’t want us to know that they’re stil here. Maybe we shouldn’t let them know we found them.”

“But how are we going to find out what’s going on with them?”

“I could go in myself—undetected,” he said, al uding to his nocturnal powers.

“That hardly seems fair,” I said with the disappointment of a child who is told she is too short to go on an amusement park ride. “If I could change into a bat, I’d do it, too.”

Alexander realized my limitations were upsetting me.

“Besides,” I said, “it might be dangerous to leave me here alone in this dark, desolate place.”

He nodded in agreement. “We’l see what we can find out from here.” Alexander cupped his pale and once bloodstained palm. I stuck my combat-booted foot in his cradled hands and he lifted me up. I struggled at first but managed to grab on to a ledge and pul ed my head slightly above it so I could peer in through a broken windowpane. My black fingernails were in stark contrast with the gray cement.

Breathless, I peered in. At first it was hard to see. My vision had to adjust to the dim lighting. A flickering candelabra sat on a wooden table, and then I spotted a flash of white hair.

“Over there,” I whispered to Alexander.

He adjusted his stance a few feet to our left to where I could now see clearly. Jagger was sitting with his back to me, his red-flamed Doc Martens boots resting up on a crate and his fingers woven together, supporting his white-haired head. He was the king of this crumbling castle. Sebastian, however, was fidgety. Alexander’s best friend repeatedly pushed his dreadlocks away from his face, his many rings catching the candlelight. He didn’t see me; perhaps the glare from the light above them hid me or he was so deep in thought he wasn’t focused on anything else. He tapped his leg repeatedly, like a junkie waiting for a fix. I’d never seen him this frazzled.

“We’l need to start tomorrow,” Jagger declared, “to get this thing up and running.”

“So soon?” Sebastian asked.

“What are we waiting for?” Jagger countered.

Sebastian drummed his black-painted fingers on the table.

But Jagger and Alexander now had a truce, and Jagger wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that—or would he?

“The Coffin Club is a success,” Jagger said. “So there’s no reason not to start one here, too.”

“This town isn’t fil ed with vampires,” Sebastian said. “Not like the other one, anyway.”

“This town needs a place to dance,” Jagger said. “For everyone to come alive—at night.”

Sebastian couldn’t argue with that. “I agree—there isn’t anything to do in this town.”

“And then the vampires wil flock here. Like we did. Alexander, Luna and me, and now you. Mortals above and vampires below. The Coffin Club was a success and this one wil be, too. We are sitting on a gold mine here in this abandoned factory.”

“The Coffin Club Two?” Sebastian said.

“I already have a name for it: the Crypt.”

“But are the preppy girls in this town going to want to hang out at a place cal ed the Crypt?”

“I have ways to entice them besides the name alone,” he said in a creepy but sexy tone.

“And vampires?” Sebastian asked skeptical y.

“The mortals won’t even know they’re here. Besides, I have surprises planned for this club.”

“What kinds of surprises?” Sebastian wondered.

“If I told you, then they wouldn’t be surprises, would they? Besides, that’s weeks away. We have a club to build first.”

“What about Alexander?” Sebastian asked.

“He can be a partner, too. But I’m not sure if he’s the type to own a club. He’s very private.”

“He is my best friend. I feel funny about this—without him being on board.”

“Is your best friend, or was?” Jagger chal enged. “Wel , you’l have a place to stay here as long as you like.”

Sebastian paused for a moment. He was the type that traveled constantly, his coffin covered with stickers from countries and cities around the world. It was something I could tel he was contemplating—a place to cal home.

“But there is more of a vampire culture in bigger towns, am I right? Here it’s just Alexander. And let’s be clear. I think he likes it that way. I think we should respect that,” Sebastian said.

Jagger cracked his knuckles, trying to mask his frustration.

“He escaped everything,” Sebastian added. “Persecution from mortals and persecution from . . .”

“My family?” Jagger sat up. “The irony, you mean. That he’d travel so far away from my family and ultimately we’d wind up settling here, too?”

“You guys have a truce.”

“I know. He helped my brother, Valentine. When Valentine was weakened and alone, Alexander cared for him and returned him to me. I’m not suggesting we restart that feud. But does that mean that what’s good for Alexander is good for us, too?” Jagger asked pointedly. “Do we have to live our lives around his? Besides, maybe a vampire club is just the thing he needs. He won’t be so alone on that hil with only a butler to attend to his needs.”

“I’m just saying. I know he’s stil mad at me for what I did to Luna at his party. I know he thinks it jeopardized his existence here. And more of us coming to town—the kind that might be like me and act on impulse . . . it wouldn’t be good for any of us.”

“You were just being you. Just being us.” Jagger leaned in. Even from far away, his blue and green eyes were piercing. “I can’t help it if Alexander’s more . . . restrained. He should have bitten Raven a long time ago. Why let it drag on?”

Just then my foot slipped and I knocked over the empty soda can on the windowpane.

“What was that?” I heard Jagger say.

“I think someone is outside.”

I held my breath. Alexander did, too.

Alexander and I stood against the wal . A pigeon was walking along the window ledge.

Alexander tossed a twig near the bird. Startled, it flapped its wings wildly and flew off past the window.

“It’s just a pigeon,” I heard Sebastian say.

Alexander cupped his hands and helped me up again.

“You shouldn’t be on edge,” Jagger said. “Why are you so worried? It’s just a club.”

Sebastian thought, then final y spoke. “But it’s a club with vampires—in a place that has been inhabited by only one. Alexander fights every day to be who he is and do the right thing. Just because you and I might be more alike? That doesn’t mean he’s the one that’s wrong.”

Jagger now was the one riffling his fingers through his white locks.

“I real y want to run this past him,” Sebastian said.

“And what’s he going to say, yes? Besides, you can’t tel him you’ve been hanging out here with me and Luna.”

Sebastian hung his head low.

“Don’t despair,” Jagger said. “It’s going to be awesome. Music blasting, drinks flowing, dancing until dawn.

Beautiful girls everywhere. What’s not to like?”

Sebastian’s face lit up in the candlelight.

The Crypt sounded like the kind of club I’d want to hang out in. Just like the Coffin Club—but only a few miles from my house. I bit my lavender lip in excitement.