Fang Girl (11 page)

I
t was a good thing Ebon was easily entertained by video games, because I was fully occupied staring at the wall for the rest of the night. It was also a good thing that I was used to tuning out my little brother in order to study, as Ebon’s singing was even worse than Zack’s favorite Finnish metal bands.

I could easily dip into Brains’s senses, but that didn’t tell me much except that the life of a goldfish was unbelievably boring. All I could do was ride along as it circled its tank—the psychic connection between us stopped at that. I couldn’t take control of its body, and trying to order Brains around verbally just got me a flat-eyed stare. Obviously, the goldfish was not impressed with me as a sire.

I wished I felt as unbothered by Lily. I could feel the tie to her as easily as my link to Brains. After several hours of practice with the fish, I finally psyched myself up enough to try snatching a glimpse through her eyes as well, but it turned out to be almost as uninformative. All I got was a view of motorway rolling past, and the rumble of a car engine. I dipped in and out a couple of times over the night, but I didn’t dare stick around too long, in case Ebon’s warnings about hijacking Lily’s senses being dangerous were actually true. Each time was the same—steering wheel, engine noise, roads. The only useful thing I caught was the name
WORTHING
on one of the signs, so she couldn’t be too far off. I still hadn’t decided whether or not that was a good thing.

That left the third connection. Which was … weird.

Unlike my other two Bloodline links, this one seemed to flow in both directions, as though whoever was on the other end was both my sire
and
my descendant. I couldn’t figure out how that could be possible. Given Lily’s earlier statement about not letting Hakon know about my “unique” Bloodline, combined with Ebon’s slightly-too-interested line of questioning earlier, I wasn’t inclined to ask him about it just yet. All I could do was experiment, comparing it to my links with Lily and Brains.

I could always sense the strange link’s direction—nearly due west—but my ability to do anything else with it was oddly intermittent. The first time I gingerly turned my attention that way, it was as if I’d stepped on a greased trapdoor; one second I was behind my own eyes, then
BAM!
my fingers were dancing over a laptop keyboard propped up on my blanket-swathed legs. I wasn’t simply watching; it felt like I was
there
, as if it was
my
body lying on that bed. It had freaked me out so much I’d snapped back to my own senses like a rubber band and had had to go and join Ebon on the Xbox for an hour to calm myself down.

But when I’d finally stopped panicking enough to test the Bloodline again … nothing. Literally nothing; the Bloodline sucked me down, and my senses went utterly blank. No sight, no sound … nothing.

Lily had said that there was no way to block the Bloodline, but apparently this vampire could. Which meant that, whoever it was, he or she was more powerful than a ten-thousand-year-old demon goddess. And was connected to me more strongly than even my own childe and sire.

That
thought was enough to keep me fully preoccupied, all the way through to dawn.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one who’d been thinking.

“So, Xanthe,” Mum announced without warning the next evening, over her dinner and our breakfast, “I’ve come to the conclusion that you should turn me into a vampire.”

Ebon dropped his fork. I stared at her in perfect horror.

“Both of us,” Dad added. I swiveled to stare horrorstruck at him too. Ebon’s knife clattered against the floor.

“And me!” Zack chimed in. I was all out of horror. There was not enough horror in the world.

“No, James,” Mum told him, steel in her voice. “Not you.”

Ebon had retreated under the table, possibly to retrieve his cutlery, but more likely to hide from the utter insanity of my family.
“Are you all deranged?”
I inquired as politely as possible.

“Really, it’s the only sensible solution,” Mum said calmly. She speared a sprout and consumed it without haste before continuing, “We can’t leave you all on your own.”

“If you all go off and become vampires, I’ll be on my own,” Zack grumbled into his plate. “How come it’s
okay for me to be alone but not Janie?”

“Do you want to be twelve forever?” Dad said to him.

Zack considered this. “Can I be a vampire when I’m fifteen, then?”

“Twenty-six,” Mum said. “That’s a good age for a man. Get a degree and start a career, and then we’ll see about biting you.”

“But Janie—”

I banged my fork down. “No one’s making anyone a vampire!
God!
” I shot a mute appeal at Ebon, who had just emerged, red-faced, from under the table. “There are rules about this sort of thing, surely?”

“We shall appeal.” Dad nodded his head decisively, looking determined. “We’ll make this Hakon see the need for a special dispensation. I’m sure he’s a reasonable man.”

Ebon broke into a coughing fit.

Dad waited patiently until he’d finished. “Well?”

Ebon looked round at the massed expectant stares. “Oh dear,” he said, and dropped his fork again. “Excuse me.”

“I’m not making you into vampires,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at them all. “It would be too weird to be my parents’ parent.”

“That’s easily addressed,” said Mum. “Ebon can do it to us.”

There was a muffled thump as Ebon hit his head on the underside of the table.

“He isn’t going to do it to you!”
I yelled, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow me—or better yet, my parents. “Nobody’s doing anything to anyone, ever!”

“Do you want to have to watch us all die?” Mum asked, point-blank.

That silenced me. Sure, I knew intellectually that my parents would one day get old and not be around anymore—but that sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen until I was old myself. Not while I was still
fifteen
.

Thing is, I was going to be fifteen forever.

Dad was watching my face. “You see the problem, Xanthe,” he said more gently. “How are you going to support yourself—not only now, but in a year, a decade, a century? You’ll still look like a teenager. How would you get a job? Where would you live?”

On the other hand, the alternative to no parents seemed to be immortal parents. Talk about a rock and a hard place. The thought of living with my family
forever
was horrifying. “I—look, this is nuts. You can’t all become vampires.” I waved at Ebon, who’d just put his head cautiously over the edge of the table to see if it was
safe to come out yet. “Ebon,
you
explain it to them.”

“I, um, I …” Ebon quailed as all eyes turned on him again. “I … have urgent business to attend to!”

“Ebon!”
He’d bolted straight out of the room, and indeed from the house. I caught up with him on the driveway. “Where are you going?” I demanded, grabbing his sleeve and hauling him to a halt. “You’re supposed to be my bodyguard, remember?”

“Yes, but—!” Ebon was rather wild-eyed. He raked one hand through his hair, causing havoc to the carefully gelled spikes. “Your family is very, um, that is, surprisingly, er—”

“Insane?” I supplied.

“I was going to say devoted.” Ebon shook himself, seeming to calm down a little. “But I truly do have urgent business, I’m afraid.”

“Really? What?”

“I would prefer not to say.”

I gave him a long, level stare.

“Ah—” Ebon had the expression of a girl forced to ask for a tampon. “Actually,” he muttered, “I’m hungry.”

“You’re—oh.” I’d
thought
he’d been pushing his ground beef around unenthusiastically. “Okay. Let’s find you someone to eat then.” I scanned the deserted
front garden. “Crap. Where’s a lurking vampire hunter when you need one?”

Ebon looked at me a bit oddly. “You … are comfortable with this?”

“Ebon, you’re a vampire. I’m kind of familiar with the basic concept.” I shrugged. “Besides, I’m going to get hungry eventually, so it’s not like I can afford to be squeamish.” Ebon’s look had turned into a flat-out stare. “What?”

“You truly aren’t hungry,” he murmured. “I didn’t believe—well.” He shook his head. “In any event, I must ask you to wait while I … relieve myself.”

An idea burst into my head. I’d never thought anything I’d learned in math class would actually prove useful, but a bit of elementary geometry—two straight lines converge to a point—might answer some questions. “No way. I’m coming with you.”

“No, you must not.” Ebon’s expression turned darkly brooding. “I do not wish you to have to witness my beast—”

“Hello! Fellow vampire here!” I waved my hands in the air. “I’ve got to learn how to do this stuff too, you know. I’ll, like, shadow you.”

“No, I—” He stopped abruptly, as if an idea had just
struck him too. “I suppose you have a point,” he conceded. “Very well. First we must find a suitable donor.” He threw back his shoulders, a hunter preparing to stalk his prey across the night … and pulled an iPhone out of his pocket.

“You are
kidding
me.” I watched as he tapped through screens with practiced swipes. “There’s an app for
that
?”

“Hakon keeps a regional list, to help his Bloodline keep to previously bitten humans. This is a convenient way to distribute the information.” His mouth quirked. “There’s a corresponding wiki for reviews as well, but that’s strictly unofficial.” He scrolled down the screen. “Here we are. The closest donor is … yes, one Lorraine Mitchell. I believe you’ve met?”

“Lorraine? You want to eat Lorraine? Hang on.” I frowned. “How did you know about that?”

Ebon raised one eyebrow and cast me a dark, mysterious smile that insinuated possession of strange psychic powers.

I waited.

When it became obvious that I wasn’t buying it, Ebon’s mystic expression slid into slight embarrassment. “I must admit I was following you,” he said. He shrugged one shoulder. “I have been stalking Lilith for
some years now, on Hakon’s orders. Fortunately for us all, I came across her as she was unearthing you from your grave.”

I remembered the gunshots I’d heard, when I’d first woken up in my coffin. “That was you? You chased her away?”

“I am, in fact, more dangerous than I appear,” he said a touch testily. “In any event, after driving Lilith off, I shadowed you. I have been watching over you for a few nights now.”

“Huh. Would have been useful if you’d introduced yourself a bit earlier,” I said, thinking of Mr. Paper Clip and his werecat spy. “I could have used the help.”

“My apologies, but I had to determine whether you were truly an innocent, or Lilith’s willing minion.”

“It’s okay.” I caught a flash of movement at the front window; my dad, quietly keeping an eye on us from behind the curtain. I didn’t think he’d be wild about the idea of me heading out for a spot of bloodletting. I nudged Ebon, tilting my head meaningfully. “If we want to avoid a long argument, we’d better get moving.”

“Easier to ask for forgiveness than permission?” he murmured, following my gaze. “I quite agree.” He offered me his hand. “If you would do me the honor?”

I fell into step with him. His hand clasped my own as if we were dancing together, and our feet skimmed the ground as easily as seagulls across the sky. Streetlamps flashed past in a blur of strobe light. Rather than stick to the roads, Ebon took us out into open farmland. We leaped through the fields, hurdling the occasional hedgerow like steeplechasers.

I waited about ten minutes before asking, “Is there some reason why we’re going so slowly?”

Ebon missed a step. “You … call this slow?”

We couldn’t be doing more than about thirty miles per hour. I’d done at least double that trying to catch the van driver. “Well, yeah. You don’t have to hold back for me, Ebon. I can keep up.”

“Perhaps you would care to set the pace—
aaaaugh!
”

“Sorry,” I said, jogging back to his doubled-over form. “Are you okay?”

“I believe I have a dislocated shoulder. I was … not expecting you to accelerate quite so rapidly.” He straightened, giving me a pained smile. “No matter. It will heal in two minutes or so.”

“Wow, you heal slowly too? Are you weak from lack of blood or something?” Ebon was staring at me again. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, taking my hand again—with his other hand, this time. “But I am becoming extremely interested in talking with your sire.”

We set off again, with me carefully shortening my strides to match his. Lancing dwindled to a small scattering of lights behind us. Cars rumbled distantly off to our left, marking the main road, while the rolling hills of the South Downs rose to our right. “So,” I said. Neither of us needed breath to run, so we might as well talk. “Why Lorraine?”

“Because the Elders require us to minimize the number of people we bite. Every time we feed, we run the risk of passing on the gift of the Blood.” I opened my mouth, but he’d already anticipated my next question. “No, it does not matter if we use knives or needles or our own sharp teeth. It is simply the act of taking their blood within us, transmuting it to Blood, that may form the connection.”