Cruel Stakes: Vampires & Vices No. 2, page 3
“Ew.” She rolls her eyes. “Come on then, let’s go get your birthday present.”
I follow her through the casino to the parking garage, my mind whirling with everything I’ve gotten myself into. Is the dice game simply that—a game? Did Adrian call Kelly while I was taking the elevator down from his office? Part of me is disappointed that Adrian isn’t showing me the car himself, but that’s a ridiculous thing to be disappointed about.
The vampire’s parking garage isn’t the same one that’s open to the public for the hotel and casino guests. First of all, it’s the nicest parking garage I’ve ever seen. The walls are painted a gleaming white and the ceilings and floor are matte black tile. There’s gray carpet along the edges, and it even smells clean and welcoming. The lighting is terribly dim, but my eyes adjust far quicker than they used to—a side effect of Hugo’s venom. As I take in the rows and rows and rows of collectable cars, I try not to salivate. They’re in all colors and sizes, from SUVs to race cars to muscle cars and everything in between. Even a whole bunch of pretty motorcycles are mixed in and I wonder what it would be like to drive one. I’ve never even ridden on one before, but I’d love the chance.
“This way,” Kelly nods toward the back of the garage, “and stay close to me. We don’t need a repeat of what happened in the lobby.”
She’s referring to one of Hugo’s baby prodigies smelling the wound inflicted on me by the mob. The vamp had tried to eat me.
“I don’t plan on ever coming here with an open wound again,” I say.
And it’s not like people don’t bleed in the casino all the time. They do. But apparently my virgin blood mixed with the tiniest amount of that vampire venom from my first kill had made me irresistible to Hugo’s bloodline. Now that he’s dead, they’re beholden to Brisa, and I wonder what she’d do if she found out about me.
I can only imagine that bloodlust has grown considering how long Hugo had his fangs in me that night he tried to turn me. The memory slices like a knife and I shiver. I hate to think of how close I came to becoming one of these monsters. And now, here I am, signing up to be Adrian’s fledgling. What was I thinking? I’m still not sure how I’m going to get out of it in the end, but I have to lock that thought away or else I’m going to lose my nerve.
Kelly looks at me sidelong. “Honey, if I were a bee, then you would be the sweetest flower in the middle of spring.” She says it like it’s the most annoying thing on earth.
“Ah, thank you,” I bat my eyelashes, “nobody’s ever called me a flower before.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she grumbles, “let me think of a better analogy.”
“Don’t worry.” I touch her arm. “I liked that one.”
Her skin is ice cold, reminding me of when Adrian took my hand, and also reminding me that I could be exactly like them soon if I’m not careful. She brushes me off, ending the conversation. Maybe she can’t think of a better analogy, or maybe she’s warming up to me.
I laugh to myself because the thought of a sucker getting warm is ludicrous.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.”
“I swear, I’m going to kill Adrian,” she grumbles, but I know she doesn’t mean it. Her love of her master is evident. I don’t detect jealousy from her, only annoyance that she has to keep dealing with me. Hey, maybe even for an eternity.
We approach a line of cars at the back of the garage, and I can’t help but gawk. They’re definitely the nicest ones down here. I can’t say for sure how I know that they’re the best of the lot, but I can just tell by looking at them––they scream money.
Old money.
Big money.
Blood money.
“I guess congratulations are in order,” she sighs. “Honestly, I don’t know how you pulled this off, but I have to hand it to you. You’ve got Adrian wrapped around your finger.”
“Uhhh, what?” I frown at her. “I didn’t do anything, and I certainly never asked for a car. I refused it, if you must know, but he––”
“That’s for you,” she cuts me off and points to a gorgeous black sports car. I blink in surprise. I don’t know what I was expecting, especially considering everything else down here, but it certainly wasn’t this. The car is beyond beautiful and has to be wildly expensive. It’s little and curvy and sexy as hell. I’ve never thought of cars as sexy before but I’ve been corrected in my ways. I stare at it, suddenly caring very much about this piece of machinery. “You did something. Let’s see . . . Hugo’s dead, and the story is that hunters killed him.” Kelly looks at me sidelong. “Which is quite interesting considering your background.”
“I can’t––”
She holds up her hand. “Don’t say anything. It’s better that I don’t know the details.” She runs the tips of her fingers across the shiny finish of the car. “This is a brand new Porsche 911 Carrera 4.” She may as well be speaking Russian. “Which is completely lost on you, isn’t it?”
I nod, but this time I grin. “I know less about cars than I know about astrophysics.”
“What do you know about astrophysics?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
Her lips quirk. I don’t know why, but I want her to like me, and I’d love to make her laugh. It doesn’t really make sense since she’s the enemy, but I can’t help but tease her. “Well, don’t get too excited. This is not even close to being the nicest car Adrian owns,” she continues, nodding toward the other cars in the row, “but it’s still way too nice for someone who doesn’t appreciate cars.”
I’m starting to enjoy our banter far too much. “Oh, honey, I can appreciate this one.” I wink. I click the unlock button on the key fob, open the driver’s door, and climb inside. The maroon interior leather smells new and expensive. It kind of reminds me of the inside of a wallet.
“He didn’t really give this to you.” Kelly leans in through the open door, her ghostly face inches from mine. Her movements are fast and fluid and vampiric in a way I’ll never get used to. “Adrian’s name is on the title, and it’s insured under his policy, so don’t think you can go sell it.” As if I would! Okay, maybe I would if I really needed to because this is way too expensive and completely unnecessary. Before I can utter a response, she slams the door in my face and dashes off.
“Well, that went well,” I mutter to the steering wheel.
I wait there for a while, trying to figure out my next step. Should I go back upstairs and refuse to take something so fancy and ask for something more normal? Should I demand Adrian put the car in my name since it’s a gift and I don’t want him to lord it over me later? But no, I can’t bring myself to do either, because every second I sit down here alone is another second a vampire could sniff me out and decide I’d make a great lunch.
I’ll have to deal with whatever strings come attached to this beauty later.
I turn it on, and the engine is so quiet and smooth that I almost don’t believe I’m doing this right. I carefully drive from the dark underground parking garage and out into bright sunlight. The second that warmth brushes my face I roll the windows down and breathe in deeply. The sun feels better than it ever has, and the idea that I could lose it leaves me cold. I can’t let them turn me. I shouldn’t have made another deal with Adrian. The guys will kill me if they find out what I’m doing. I know Seth is my leader and he wants me to work with Adrian, but we never talked about it going this far. He doesn’t know what I’ve asked.
And if Felix finds out––I don’t want to know what he’d do.
The day is getting away from me, but I think back to everything so far. I feel old, but I know I’m not. Nineteen is nothing, but it’s also everything. I started the day with a lovely breakfast with my mom at our favorite diner, and it was amazing. I have her back, and I still haven’t processed it. Everytime I think of her actually being her, tears burn my vision.
Even now.
I wipe them away. I have to drive over to Felix and Seth’s house. It’s near the Tulane campus which is only a few miles up from the casino. Unfortunately, the drive through New Orleans is lovely but doesn’t provide enough time to think of a plausible explanation for why I’m driving a Porsche. I’ve already forgotten what model Kelly said it is, so I’ll just have to call it The Porsche.
I end up parking it down the road a little so I can walk over to Felix’s place and allow the guys to assume I took the city bus here. I’m still not sure what Felix has in mind for my birthday date, but I’m super excited. We haven’t had one-on-one time all week, and I need this. I’m still unsure if we’re a real couple, though, considering we’re hiding our relationship from Seth. That bothers me, but I agree with Felix. It’s a necessity. Seth is our team leader and insists that dating between teammates should be off limits. And normally I’d agree with him, but Seth doesn’t understand my heart or my history with Felix. I’ve been wanting this forever, and now that Felix finally wants it too, nothing is going to stop us.
I smile to myself. This secret can be sexy and fun if we let it. We’ll tell everyone eventually, but for now, it’s safer to keep it between the two of us. I knock on the door, and Felix opens it, takes my hand, and pulls me inside with a conspiratorial smile.
Chapter 5
“Surprise!” A chorus of voices crash over me, and I step back, momentarily stunned. Streamers in various shades of blue are ribboned across the tiny living room and helium balloons float in bunches.
I take it all in with a laugh. “Are you kidding me? You planned a surprise party?” I’ve never had one before.
Felix wraps me in a hug and whispers, “Happy birthday. There’s someone here to see you.” Then he turns me around and standing there in a blue party dress that matches her vibrant curly hair is none other than my best friend in the whole wide world.
“Ayla!” I scream, launching myself at her. I practically tackle her with my hug, and she hugs me back just as tight. “Oh my gosh, I’ve missed you so much,” I gush. The last month has been the longest we’ve ever been apart since she up and moved on me to become a college girl.
“You have no idea,” she replies in a tone that says we need to talk.
There are other people at this surprise party, like Seth and Kenton, my two new roommates, and a handful of people I have yet to meet who I’m guessing often come over to this house to hang out with their college friends. Some of these guys are built like they’re definitely on the lacrosse team, too. But none of them really matter to me right now, not even Felix. All I want to do is talk with Ayla. Something is going on with my girl, and I have to know what it is.
“Later,” she whispers, sensing exactly what I’m thinking. “Please, let’s try to have fun.”
And with that request, I do as she asks over the next couple of hours. Felix has set up a couple of drinking games, karaoke, and even got one of those massive sheet cakes from Costco. I don’t drink and neither does my team, but I play along with everything else and end up having a great time. When they sing to me, I want to simultaneously crawl into a hole and hug everyone. After things settle down and I’ve met all the new people, Ayla and I finally get a chance to talk. I’m worried she’s going to call me out on the sexual tension between me and her brother, and I feel bad keeping a secret from her. But maybe she hasn’t sensed anything? Felix and I stayed apart most of the evening and Ayla took credit for the party. And maybe it really was all her idea, but I have a feeling that’s not entirely true.
Arm in arm, we go up to Felix’s room. It feels a little weird because I didn’t think the first time I’d be up here would be with her, but I don’t say that. The fact that she still doesn’t know we’ve kissed is killing me. She’s my person. But I’m not even sure what I am to Felix, so I pretend not to be extra interested in the posters on the wall or all the study materials on the desk as I sit down on the bed with her. What will she do when I tell her I’ve started something with her brother? I send a little prayer up that she’ll support us, and I’m not even the praying type. Mom always said church wasn’t her thing, though my grandma sometimes took me when I was a kid on the major holidays. Beyond that, I don’t have much belief in a higher power. Especially one that would let vampires roam the earth.
I turn on my friend with a huge conspiratorial grin. “What are you doing here? And don’t tell me you only came for the day because we both know a Sunday afternoon in September isn’t really feasible for you to leave college. You’re supposed to be long gone and having the best time of your life.”
“Am I?” she teases, but she won’t meet my eyes. I can sense the emotional wall she’s built around herself, something that I’ve never experienced with my best friend before. She’s always let me in. But then again, it’s not like I’m one to talk …
“So, are you going to skip class for a few days or something?” I venture.
She sighs and tugs her hair behind her ear. It’s greasy, which isn’t like her either. Neither are the dark circles under her eyes.
“Listen, don’t judge me okay?” Her eyes go round, and I grab her hands and squeeze. She returns the gesture but her grip is weak.
“I would never,” I whisper.
“I know, but I also know how excited you were for me and everything, and I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it,” she rushes. “I decided to drop out of school.”
I squeeze her hands again, but she lets go. “Are you serious?” I wish I could do something to help her. This is the last thing I was expecting her to say––she was so excited to go.
“Yeah, I really hated it. I’ve never been so depressed in my entire life.”
“I’m so sorry.” I don’t know what else to say. It’s barely been a month.
“It’s okay. Mom and dad support me coming home, at least for now. I went to a therapist and she said that a lot of kids get depression their first year of college and it can be really unhealthy for them.” Her mouth wobbles and those round eyes fill with tears. “I guess I’m not as strong as I thought I was, huh?”
“Are you kidding me?” I want to shake her. “You’re so strong. Admitting something was wrong and taking action on that was super brave.”
“Thanks.” She shrugs. “Anyway, I’m going to stay home until I figure out what I want to do next. It’s not like I need a college degree to do interior design at my own family’s business, you know? But I’m not even sure I want to do interior design anymore. I’m not really sure about anything.”
When I say my friend has been obsessed with home design since she was in preschool, I am not exaggerating. Her Sims houses are unbelievable, and her bedroom has changed about ten times over the years, each time better than the last. She was the kind of kid who asked for new bedding for her birthday instead of toys and rearranged furniture for fun. To this day she loves nothing more than to walk around IKEA and critique the displays. She’s a total natural at this stuff, and to think that she’d give it up so quickly breaks my heart.
I wrap her in the tightest hug, wishing she would’ve confided in me about this sooner, but I am not about to make this about me. And it’s not like I’ve been the world’s greatest friend lately. So much has changed in my life, too. “I’m really sorry, Ayla. I know how much you were looking forward to your college experience. Are you sure this is the right decision?”
She pulls away and shoots me an annoyed glare. “You sound like Felix. He doesn’t get it either. But honestly, I hated college. I never even wanted to leave my dorm room.”
I nod, but I don’t think she didn’t want to leave her room because of being away from home or being shy or life changes or anything like that. I think the reason she wanted to stay locked up in her room was because she felt safe there and nowhere else. But I don’t say that. Could my friend be going through post traumatic stress disorder after the vampire attack? Those guys had almost murdered her, and then we killed three of them right in front of her while she was still processing almost being vampire food. Not everyone is cut out to be a hunter, and my sensitive bestie might be hiding her true fears.
She stands. “I’m gonna head home before it gets dark. Happy birthday.”
And sure enough, the sky outside has turned to bright creamsicle orange. She doesn’t give me a present or a card, she simply leaves. It’s not like I’m expecting a gift or that I’m mad that she didn’t have something. It’s that I’m even more concerned because this is not like her at all. My friend has always known I don’t have much, so she goes all-out with her gifts. One time she even redid my wardrobe, saving up money meant for herself to use on new school clothes for me. And when I hadn’t wanted to accept such a big gift, she’d already removed all the tags.
That’s my Ayla. But I guess so is this girl. And I have no idea what to do.
Felix taps on the door and peeks inside. “Are you doing okay?”
I fake a happy smile. “Of course, thank you for this party. I know Ayla helped but you were the mastermind, weren’t you?”
“I’ll never tell.” He winks and sits down next to me. “I have something for you.”
He pulls a little box from the drawer of his nightstand. It’s wrapped in blue paper to match the decorations downstairs. If I had to guess, Alya set him up with all of the party decor, which gives me some hope for my friend. But then again, maybe not. Maybe it was all him.
“Open it,” he says, handing it over. I do and find a solid silver chain tucked neatly on top of a black velvet pillow inside.
“I saw that you broke the chain of your favorite necklace and had to replace it with something cheap,” he says, his gaze dropping to my neck, “you know, the one that you wear all the time with the cross your grandmother gave you? Well anyway, I hope you like this replacement.”
“It’s one of the most thoughtful gifts anyone has ever given me,” I breathe. Sure, driving a Porsche over here was one of the most surreal moments of my life. It’s beautiful and brand new, and I’m still not sure why Adrian gave it to me . . . and I can’t trust it. “Thank you so much, Felix. This is perfect.” I’ve been wearing my cross on a crappy chain since Hugo broke it. It rests below my collarbone in its usual spot, half the time under my clothes. I pull it off to switch it out with the nice silver chain, and Felix clasps it to my neck for me. As he does, my thumb glides along the stamped insignia of two tiny feathers crossing over each other on the back of the cross. The stamp belongs to the artisan who made it, a signature of sorts.
