Sweet Blood of Mine (23 page)

Thankfuly, she did not.

I was famished by the time I got out of there, and it wasn't just food I was hungry for. If the nurse had touched me in my no-no place, I might have lost control and the results would have destroyed my sex drive forever. I shuddered.

Darkness descended as I drove home. The hunger grew, clawing at my stomach and demanding I feed.

"No!" I said, slamming the steering wheel. A wave of dizziness overcame me. The road blurred. Snapped back into focus. Tail lights flashed feet away. I slammed on the brakes and avoided rear-ending a pickup truck by inches.

I cursed and puled into the next parking lot I came to. A Chinese buffet beckoned me and my stomach to come hither. But I was hungry for more than food and it was driving me out of my mind. This was torture.

My stomach whined again, growling its displeasure with me. "Just normal food," I told it. "No molesting girls."

I wasn't sure it was my stomach that needed talking to.

I ran into the restaurant and piled a plate high with beef, broccoli, and mushrooms from the buffet table. It smeled divine. My stomach did the happy dance but another part of me snarled at the insult. It didn't like being ignored. The waitress who filed my water was old, fat, and had hair growing from a wart on her chin. That could be realy, realy good or realy, realy bad depending upon just how desperate my soul-sucking tummy wanted energy.

I dug into the food, inhaling it. Eating that much food should have stuffed me. Instead, I felt holow and ravenous as ever. The craving felt no different than typical hunger pains, but strange visions appeared before my eyes.

Most people, even guys, now had steamy halos of energy floating around their heads or a glowing nimbus drifting like floating around their heads or a glowing nimbus drifting like fog around their bodies. The creature within me stirred. I drooled. I wiped my mouth with a napkin and squeezed my eyes shut. I had to get out of there before I did something terrible. Especialy if it involved getting it on with another dude or my waitress.

"More water?"

I looked up and stared into the dark liquid eyes of a gorgeous Asian girl. "I—uh…" Pulsating white tendrils streamed from me and latched onto the girl's halo. I knocked my glass off the table as I reached useless hands toward the ghostly tentacles to stop them. It was way too late.

Her eyes grew heavy-lidded. Her pupils dilated, eclipsing brown irises. She dropped the pitcher of water onto the floor where it clattered against the tiles and splashed on her shoes. A brief moment of silence ensued.

The restaurant grew stil and silent around us. Then she launched herself at me. My self-control shattered. Her soft lips met mine, pressing hard and filed with the desire to consume me. She nipped my lower lip. Giggled. She jumped on me, locking her legs around my waist and peppering me with kisses. Then she got personal. She puled my T-shirt over my head and kissed my neck. Bit it.

Ran her tongue along my earlobe and whispered exactly what she wanted to do to me in my ear.

I swept dishes and Chinese condiments off the table and sat her on top of it while the din of breaking glass and clattering silverware filed the restaurant.

What are you doing?
A horrified but tiny voice screamed from somewhere within my head. I puled back from the girl for a moment. Threads of energy swirled like tiny vortexes from her halo and into me. Her essence glowed bright and welcoming and lustful.

My body strained to resume what it had been doing a moment before, but the sane part of me wondered if I was kiling the girl.

Who cares?
A gruff, malevolent part of me felt just fine with it. In fact, it
wanted
me to do it.
I care!
I didn't want to be a creature of the night. And even if I were a monster, it didn't mean I had to be a complete jackass about it.

Why do I still care? Elyssa hates me. And the
power I have—I should use it! Why shouldn't I
experience love and happiness?

But this wasn't happiness and it sure as hel wasn't love. It was pure simple lust and nothing more. Besides, I might be kiling her.

Cold water splashed against the side of my face.

Another pitcher ful of ice water dashed against the cute waitress. I sputtered. She shrieked. My connection to the girl evaporated. My former waitress, the one with a pre-pubescent goatee was shouting something in what I thought might be Chinese. The girl gave a horrified look at the mess she and I had created and yeled back at the other waitress while she jabbed her finger at me.

I dropped some money on the table and fled the scene. Hopped in my car and screeched out of the parking lot.

"I can have any woman," I told myself as I puled onto the highway, "But al I want is Elyssa."

I took a deep breath before I suffocated from the oppressive maudlin atmosphere. The powers I had were wrecking my life. So far I'd done nothing resulting in a positive outcome. Every time I'd tried to overpower my oppressors, I only ended up further and further under their control. Using my abilities obviously drained my supernatural energy levels but I had to use them if I wanted to survive footbal. I couldn't quit footbal because the principal and his lackeys had me by the short hairs. That meant these cravings would continue.

If I didn't figure out a way to fix this, I'd eventualy If I didn't figure out a way to fix this, I'd eventualy do something terrible and attract the wrong attention.

Elyssa had warned me. Stacey had warned me. I was backing myself into a very dangerous corner.

My phone beeped with a text message. It was from Ash and it had a link to YouTube. I clicked the link and stared in horror.

Nyte had posted clips from footbal practice. I was there for the world to see, supernatural abilities and al.

I couldn't rid myself of the knot sitting like a lead weight in my stomach the next day. I wondered how many people in the school had seen Nyte's video and put the pieces together even though Nyte had thankfuly left out names and his account wasn't associated with his true identity. No teling how many people Nyte had shown it to.

Just what I needed: a video showing how inhuman I was.

Then my stomach welcomed a fresh shock to the system. I had given a urine and blood sample to the nurse yesterday. What if I realy wasn't human? What kind of results would they get back?

Oh my God.

This was trouble. I had to swap those samples with someone else's. Maybe I could talk Ash or Nyte into giving up some bodily fluids for my sake. I'd have to lie and tel them I was on steroids or purple drank though.

I skipped the gymnasium and rushed to the nurse's office. The little old lady wasn't there. Instead, an oxymoron gazed sleepily at me.

"Yeah?" said the male nurse. He was a tal heavy-set guy with tiny eyes and a blimp for a head. I couldn't understand how anyone in the healthcare industry would let themselves go like that. He had to be pushing three-hundred pounds.

"I left some, uh, fluid samples here yesterday, and I was wondering if they were stil here."

"Nah. Nurse Godwin took al that to the lab this morning. She'l be back soon with the results, so I wouldn't sweat it."

Sweat broke out on my forehead. "Where is this lab?" I asked, my voice notching into a panicked squeak.

His eyes narrowed. "Something you're worried about?"

My mind grasped franticaly for some excuse. "I ate powdered bul testicle, and someone told me it would jack up my testosterone levels. I'm afraid it might show up bad on my test."

His eyes relaxed and he laughed. "Those homeopathic remedies are so fake, dude. You don't have a thing to worry about. Besides, they started the drug screening tests at five this morning so they're probably al done."

I bit back a string of inventive curses but let them find a home in my mind in case the need for such atrocities ever arose again. I left the office. Instead of going to the gymnasium where trouble always found me, I snuck into my homeroom class and sat very stil, hoping Mr. Herman wouldn't look up from the large mural he was painting on the wal. It looked like Sonny and Cher in ful seventies regalia.

He turned his head, as if pure animal instinct had told him I was at his back. I was, I realized with a jolt, a predator in every sense of the word. True, I didn't prey on men.

Although I had fed on those guys in the bathroom. It had just been laughter, though, no kissing. Surely that didn't put my sexual preferences into question, did it? I shuddered.

"Congratulations," he said, then turned back to painting.

"For what?"

"For laying out that punk Nathan Spelman. I can't tel that inbred gorila to do anything. He's got the colective head of the administration up his fat ass."

"Laying him out?"

He chuckled. "I saw the video. I was watching a Deep Purple video when a coleague sent me the link."

Oh no. Nyte, I'm going to kill you.

I started sweating again. "How did you know it was me?"

He put down the paintbrush and turned to look at He put down the paintbrush and turned to look at me again. "The faculty knows about your punishment.

Those idiots in the main office can't keep anything a secret from us. I figured you'd be in crutches next time I saw you."

"Is there anything I can do to stop them from making me play footbal?"

"This is the South, kid. It isn't progressive California or the great white north where basketbal is king. These good old boys have got you by your young boys whether you like it or not."

"Can you teachers help me?"

He snorted. "Why? After what I saw, you have nothing to be afraid of."

Except I did. If Elyssa was right, I had plenty to worry about.

I received a lot of curious looks and stares during the day. I wanted to wear a paper sack over my head so people wouldn't know it was me. After English class, Mr.

Turpin waved me over to his desk. I wondered if he was going to give me more useless advice about making sure to knock down big people before beating the crap out of them.

He leaned back in his chair and said, "You seem to be a natural at footbal, Mr. Case. I saw the videos and I must say, I'm impressed."

Elyssa had been right. What a horrible mistake this was turning out to be. "I realy overdid the energy drinks.

Al that caffeine and sugar, you know."

An amused smile crept across his face. "I'm sure.

It appears this footbal season wil be far more interesting than I'd anticipated. And perhaps Nathan and his friends wil learn that you're not such easy pickings after al."

"I realy don't want to play," I said. "In fact, I'd just as soon quit."

"Unfortunately, it appears that our good Coach Burgundy has a vested interest in keeping you on the team."

"So I've heard."

His smile vanished as he leaned forward. "There are ways to fix such problems, however."

Something in his face made my blood run cold and I wondered if a few wires had been knocked loose in his boxing days, or maybe short-circuited something essential.

Surely this guy wasn't suggesting I do terrible things, was he? "What do you mean?"

His eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips for a moment. "I'm sure you'l figure that out, Mr. Case. Good luck to you."

After school let out, I trudged down to footbal practice. Thunder pealed in the dark sky, folowed shortly by rain. It perfectly complemented my mood. A couple of players I didn't know gave me grudging nods of respect—or maybe it was fear—as I approached. Nathan and his bunch glared at me.

So what else is new?

After pushups, sit-ups, jumping jacks, and something they caled burpees—which had nothing to do with burping—we had to run the tire gauntlet and push the sled and repeat the same stuff from the day before.

Afterward, they put me in as a running back.

Bryan, the quarterback, grabbed my jersey in the huddle. "I don't know why the hel they're putting you in this position. You don't know a thing about footbal."

I puled his hand loose and looked at the concerned and angry expressions in the huddle. "I don't have a choice. I'm stuck with you and you're stuck with me." But I had an idea to unstick me from this mess.

I got the bal on the first play, of course. Nathan lunged at me. I let him take me out. He rammed me into the ground. It hurt, but not as bad as I'd feared. I stil gave everyone a good show, limping back to the huddle. The next play took me right into Steve's arms. He roared in triumph as he took me down, pumping his fists and laughing. Nathan gave him a high-five and kicked a clod of laughing. Nathan gave him a high-five and kicked a clod of dirt on my jersey while I was getting up. Three plays and three painful tackles later, Coach Burgundy caled me over to the sideline. Finaly. An end to the madness.

"You ain't a bad actor, boy," he said with a grin.

"But this ain't the Glee Club and you ain't fooling me."

"I just got lucky yesterday," I said.

"I don't think you did, boy." He shoveled a fat pinch of tobacco into his mouth. "I think you don't want to play." He spat and looked out at the players. "Them's some good kids out there. You may have the strength, but far as I'm concerned you're just a piece of cowardly trash compared to them."