Authors: Serena Robar

Tags: #Vampires, #Fiction, #Horror, #Best friends, #Dating & Sex, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Love & Romance, #School & Education, #Friendship, #Dating (Social customs), #Fantasy & Magic, #Horror stories, #Education, #Family & Relationships, #Universities and colleges, #Demoniac possession, #Higher

Dating for Demons

Table of Contents

Berkley titles by Serena Robar

BRACED TO BITE
FANGS FOR FREAKS
DATING FOR DEMONS

THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

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BERKLEY
^®is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley JAM trade paperback edition / May 2007
Berkley trade paperback edition / August 2010

eISBN : 978-1-101-44232-6

The Library of Congress has cataloged the Berkley JAM trade paperback edition as follows:

Robar, Serena.

Dating4demons / Serena Robar.—Berkley Jam trade paperback ed.

p. cm.

Summary: As Colby, the Protector of the half-blood vampires, continues to fight off full-bloods, take care of her sorority sisters, keep up with coursework, and decipher the prophesy that claims she will bring about the end of the world, her best friend, Piper, stakes a demon zombie and learns she is a demon slayer.

eISBN : 978-1-101-44232-6

[1. Vampires—Fiction. 2. Demoniac possession—Fiction. 3. Dating (Social customs)—Fiction. 4. Best friends—Fiction. 5. Friendship—Fiction. 6. Universities and colleges—Fiction. 7. Horror stories.] I. Title. II. Title: Dating 4 demons. III. Title: Dating for demons.

PZ7.R5312Dat 2007

[Fic]—dc22

2007000316

http://us.penguingroup.com

This book is dedicated to my daughter, Taylor Lynn—and
I promise to use only the juiciest stories from your
adolescence for my books.
Mwuahahahahahaha
!

Acknowledgments

Without my husband, Jason, this book would still be sitting in my head and nowhere near book form. I thank you for watching the kids, eating TV dinners and generally being neglected while I wrote.

As always, thanks for the support of The Tiaras: Christina Arbini, Erin Eisenberg, Kelli Estes and Shannon McKelden.

And a special thanks to Leis Pederson, who kicked my butt when I needed to make deadline.

Colby Blanchard
Undead Living 102
Being Undead
Short Essay

Being Undead: What It Means to Me

In the fall of my senior year of high school, I walked home after a football game, alone. I was attacked by a rogue vampire who changed me into a vampire. I quickly discovered (after a visit from some Vampire Investigators) that I was Undead without a license—and not even a full-blood vampire, only a half-blood. Normally, I would have been destroyed, but I provided a pretty compelling argument. In the end, I managed to get a license, emancipate other half-bloods and was given a job as their Protector. But full-bloods still don’t like us. At all.

Why? Well, it appears I am prophesied in some ancient texts to bring about the end of the world.

This time the mixed blood will rise,
The One who is Undead but Alive,
Who is pure but not whole,
And they will bring forth the beginning of the end.

So, what’s being Undead mean to me? It means I have no time. Since full-bloods don’t like me, they all want to kill me so I’m constantly dodging stakes and swords, and I never have time to finish my assignments. Which is why this essay is late.

One

COLBY

I
found it hard to believe that such a big guy was even attempting to look inconspicuous while obviously following me, but there he was,
again
. This time he was feigning interest in some shades while I cruised the Sunglass Hut. He was handsome in a bad boy, no, scratch that, in a
Piper
sort of way. I giggled at the thought. My best friend, Piper, would love the seriously dark vibe this guy was emitting. It would appeal to her whole, I’m-not-Goth-I’m-alternative persona.

I took a deep breath once more and relaxed. He wasn’t a vampire at least. Of that I was sure. And he smelled like oatmeal raisin cookies with a hint of cinnamon. It was my experience (admittedly limited) that men who smelled like cookies were probably not evil. Yeah, it was pigeonholing an entire olfactory type but hey, stereotypes exist for a reason, you know.

He might not have been a vampire, but that didn’t mean I shouldn’t be cautious. It seemed like every other night I was being attacked by some ancient vampire who followed the Prophesy. Occasionally they even brought a human pet or two with them. They believed Colby Blanchard (that would be me) was the one who would bring about the end of their existence as we knew it. Tell a friend. Film at eleven. Sheesh, start a small revolution by emancipating half-blood vampires, and suddenly everyone thinks you’re up to no good. It wasn’t my fault that half-bloods were considered an abomination by all. But not anymore. I was a half-blood and proud of it. No one who dressed as well as I did was an abomination. Period.

No, this guy wasn’t a vampire and I thought it unlikely he was a pet. Pets tended to be very robotic and couldn’t think for themselves. They were under a spell and looked spaced-out all the time. Nope, this guy could never be anyone’s pet.

Maybe he was just shy and wanted to meet me? Probably. I mean, I looked pretty hot today with my spray-on tan and Psi Phi tank top. Sure, it was the middle of April and still a bit chilly for the Northwest, but when you’re dead, er, Undead, a couple degrees didn’t matter much. Call it a perk, if you will.

I made my way upstairs to the food court. I wanted Piper to meet me before the sun went down, but no, she was doing some homework and couldn’t break away until the evening. As a half-blood, I was able to walk around during the day. Sure, I had to wear lotion with an SPF of about a gazillion but I didn’t mind.

I wasn’t thrilled to meet Piper after dark, though. What with all the kill-the-prophet-chick stuff going on. I mean, putting your best friend in danger meant she wouldn’t be your best friend for long. That was unacceptable. I needed Piper. I needed her like I needed sunlight—wait a minute, I didn’t actually need sunlight and should really avoid it. Okay then, I needed her like I needed food. Hmm. I didn’t need food either. Well, I needed Piper and I really shouldn’t have to justify keeping my friends safe.

I reached the third floor and found her standing in line at Hot Dog on a Stick. I picked out a table and waited for her, shaking my head when I saw what she was wearing. Why, oh why did she have the fashion sense of a transient?

She sported Lucky jeans with a white leather belt, ritually studded with metal brads in a uniform pattern. She’d paired a long-sleeve black mesh shirt, ripped at the collarbone and along one elbow, over a fitted burgundy tank with a black bra. Piper was short, around five-four, and curvy. That was to say she had a small waist, huge boobs and rounded bottom. She was wearing black Converse high-tops, natch. We wouldn’t want to spread our wings and wear another pair of shoes or anything.

Still, with her shoulder-length, jet-black hair with burgundy streaks and her fondness for eyeliner, she had a style all her own. Coupled with a row of earrings and pierced nose, she was exotic, in a don’t-sit-next-to-me-on-the-bus sort of way.

“Dew?” I inquired as she sipped some liquid through a straw. Piper lived on Mountain Dew.

“Nope, cherry lemonade.”

I made a gagging sound in the back of my throat. Piper sure loved syrupy sweet drinks. And apparently, fried food on a stick. She’d bought a corndog as well, then smothered it in mustard. I shuddered.

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