“In two more weeks we can assess this again,” Ms. Delancey said. “Sometimes these things take time. You’ve never been in a public school environment before. The adjustment can’t be easy, and we shouldn’t expect it to be quick.”
Pearl didn’t want to adjust. She wanted humans to revert to being merely meals again. She wanted to stop pretending to fit in. She wanted to return to being the ordinary child she was born to be, not a special miracle charged with this impossible task. Daddy was right—she was too far undercover. She needed to break out of this and return to being herself. “Thanks, Ms. Delancey,” she said as the end-of-day bell rang. “You helped me clarify something that’s been bothering me.”
Ms. Delancey looked delighted.
Striding out of the counselor’s office, Pearl beelined for Bethany’s locker. The strawberry blonde was already there, backpack open at her feet. “Hey, Bethany,” Pearl said, “I was wondering if you could help me with a project.”
“Of course!” Bethany said. She loaded her backpack with every textbook in her locker and then hefted it onto her shoulder. She staggered from the weight.
Pearl rolled her eyes. “Let me.” She took Bethany’s backpack and tossed it over her shoulder. She led her out of the school and past the buses. Bethany half skipped and half jogged to keep up with her. A few of the students watched them warily, but Pearl didn’t touch any of the cars.
“Wait, we passed my—” Bethany pointed back at her minivan.
“It’s sort of a back-to-nature project,” Pearl said as she propelled Bethany into the woods that ringed the school. “Extra credit. Ms. Delancey’s idea, really.”
“Oh!” Bethany said. “I was worried I’d missed an assignment. I mean, I know I don’t technically need extra credit, but my parents say I need to bump my GPA higher than 4.0 if I want to have a prayer at the top colleges. I want to ask Mr. Barstow if I could write a term paper, but that requires actually talking to him outside of class. . .” She puffed as she climbed up the incline and over the bushes.
“Seriously, you need to grow a backbone,” Pearl said. She waited for Bethany between the trees. Over the past few days, the trees had begun to bud. Every branch sported tiny leaves, some in clumps. With the sunlight streaming down, the woods looked a murky pale green, as if they were underwater. “It’s not like he’s going to eat you.” She turned and tromped over the forest floor. The brambles had begun to spread and grow. They snagged at Pearl’s feet. “You’ll never make it through life if you let irrational fears freeze you all the time.”
Bethany let out a laugh. “I can’t believe you are giving me life advice.” She climbed onto a fallen tree. Straddling it, she was stuck for a moment, and then she wiggled herself over to the other side.
Scowling, Pearl waited again for Bethany to catch up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Totally no offense meant,” Bethany said quickly. Changing the subject, she looked around them and said, “Where exactly are we going?”
“Over there,” Pearl said. She pointed to a clearing. It was only a few yards from a fence that hemmed in a house, but it qualified: open grass ringed by trees. All the myths had the virgin in a clearing, usually weaving flowers into a garland, as if she had nothing better to do with her time. “You don’t happen to know how to make a garland, do you?”
“Are you taking up a craft?”
Grabbing Bethany’s elbow, Pearl steered her into the clearing. Sunlight hit the grasses, creating a cheerful spring-green glow. There was even a convenient rock in the center plus a few oh-so-picturesque crocuses and snowdrops. “Sit here. Just . . . pretend that I’m about to take a photograph.”
Bethany didn’t sit. “Pearl, what’s this about?”
Pearl debated a couple of different answers. Each wasn’t much more plausible than the truth. “I want to see if you can lure a unicorn.” Bethany’s mouth fell open, and Pearl thought perhaps the other answers would have been slightly more plausible, but it was too late now. Pearl shrugged as if it were no big deal. “I need to talk to it.”
“Oh,” Bethany said.
“It always lurks near me after school, but it never comes close. According to myth, it’s attracted to virgins. So, here you are.” Pearl tossed Bethany against the rock, spinning her so that she’d sit. Bethany hit the rock hard and fell to the ground. She yelped and then moaned. “If you want, you can sing. Maybe a medieval tune will draw Mr. Sparkly-and-Pointy. Remind him of all the medieval tapestries. Do you know ‘Greensleeves’?”
Bethany’s face was pale, and her voice quivered. “I . . . I think so. Same tune as ‘What Child Is This?’” Her eyes were wide. Pearl ignored the fear that rolled off the girl as pungent as sweat. “‘Alas, my love, you do me wrong to cast me off discourteously. . .’” Her voice broke.
Pearl motioned for her to keep singing and added the next line. “‘For I have loved you well and long, delighting in your company. . .’” Tentatively, Bethany joined in and they both sang, “‘Greensleeves was all my joy. Greensleeves was my delight. Greensleeves . . .’” Pearl held up a hand, breaking it off, and said, “Okay, this is idiotic.” She looked at Bethany, quivering against the rock. Sighing, Pearl sank to the ground. The dirt and moss felt cool beneath her knees. “This is so far from right. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be out. I shouldn’t even be awake.” All she wanted was for that stupid unicorn to undo whatever it was it had done to her. She wanted her old self back.
She expected Bethany to bolt. It would have been the sensible thing to do. But, instead, Bethany got shakily to her feet and crossed to Pearl. “Do you . . . want to talk about it?” Bethany asked.
“Always talk, talk, talk with you people,” Pearl said. “You know, sometimes violence really is the answer.” She shot Bethany a look that should have sent her scurrying away like a squirrel.
Bethany laid her hand on Pearl’s shoulder, lightly, like a bird landing on a live wire. “Who’s hurting you, Pearl?” she asked softly. “Is it your family?”
Pearl had never, ever had anyone ask her a question like that. For a moment she simply stared at Bethany, at her wide eyes as clear and innocent as the morning sky. “You’re either the bravest or the stupidest person I’ve ever met. You should really have run.” She let all lightness drain out of her face.
Bethany began to shake.
Pearl knew what she was seeing: a killer’s empty eyes. It was a look that Pearl had seen perfected on the faces of her uncles, cousins, and parents.
“You won’t hurt me,” Bethany said. Her voice was a whisper, and her heart raced so fast and loud that Pearl could hear it above the distant whoosh of cars from the street beyond the houses and the perky chitter of birds in the trees around them. “You need to pass AP History.”
Pearl couldn’t help it; she laughed out loud.
“Pearl . . .” Bethany licked her lips and began again. “Pearl, you don’t get to choose what family you’re born into. But you can choose not to stay. There are safe houses. Shelters with people who can help. You don’t have to do it alone.”
Pearl’s laugh faded. Even if she wanted to leave the Family—which she didn’t, of course—no human could help. “I’m fine,” Pearl said. “They’re fine. And no one in my family is ever alone.” As she said the words, she realized that for the first time, it wasn’t true. In a way, she was alone. The Family slept. All her uncles, aunts, and cousins were trapped in the shadows until dusk. Only she was out in the world.
“You have friends, if you want them,” Bethany said. “Me. Evan. Zeke and Matt. Whatever you’re going through, we’re here for you. Just . . . you need to let us in.”
Pearl almost laughed again. Vampires weren’t “friends” with humans. Vampires didn’t have friends. They had alliances. They had Family. Relationships between vampires and humans only happened on TV. “And here I was hoping that one of you would let me in.”
“Talk to Ms. Delancey tomorrow,” Bethany said. “She can help you leave. She’ll know how
to find a shelter. We can talk to her together, if you’d like.”
Pearl took a deep breath and let it fill her as if she were human. “If you really want to be my friend . . . stay here in the clearing with me. And if the unicorn doesn’t appear, I’ll talk to Ms. Delancey tomorrow.”
Bethany smiled. “All right.” She perched on the rock. “Do I have to sing ‘Greensleeves’?”
“Guess not.”
Bethany tucked her knees up under her chin. Above, the afternoon birds chattered to each other. A breeze rustled the branches, shaking the baby spring leaves on the trees. “Um, Pearl?”
“Yes?”
“Are we talking about a literal unicorn or a metaphorical one?”
“Literal.”
“Uh-huh,” Bethany said.
“Just sit there,” Pearl said.
Bethany was silent for a few minutes. “Hey, do you want to study?”
By sundown, Pearl knew more about the Federalist Papers than she’d ever wanted to know. She also knew that the unicorn was a no-show. As Bethany packed up her backpack, Pearl climbed on top of the rock and scanned the woods in all directions.
“Sorry for . . . You really expected a unicorn?” Bethany asked.
Pearl jumped off the rock without replying. She strode out of the clearing. She punched a tree trunk as she passed. Chips of bark sailed off where her knuckles impacted.
Hauling her backpack, Bethany scurried after her. “You’ll think about leaving, right? Your family clearly isn’t healthy for you.”
Pearl dodged the question. “I appreciate the lack of mocking about the unicorn. In your shoes, I would have mocked relentlessly.”
“You’re welcome,” Bethany said. “I mean, I understand. Sort of. I mean, we all have issues, right? So, it’s okay.”
“You don’t have ‘issues.’”
Bethany snorted. “Public speaking terrifies me. Authority figures intimidate me. I’m an obsessive perfectionist who cares too much about grades. . .”
“Real issues.”
Quietly she said, “My parents don’t notice me.”
Pearl raised her eyebrows at her.
As Bethany’s toe caught on a root disguised by the growing shadows, Pearl shot her hand out to steady her. “Thanks,” Bethany said. “Once, when I was four, they forgot to fetch me from preschool. . . It was a common thing for them. They missed pickup about once a week, and a friend’s mom would bring me home and babysit me. But once, I had this idea—you know, one of those stupid ideas that seem perfectly logical when you’re four—that I’d walk home myself. Of course, preschool was about five miles away, and of course, I got lost. I was found several hours after dark by this silver-haired man in a pin-striped suit. He wore a silver loop in his ear. I remember asking him if he was a pirate.”
Pearl slowed. She felt as if the blood inside her veins had turned to sludge. Silver-haired man in a pin-striped suit. Silver loop in his ear.
“He laughed and said no, he’s a vampire.”
Pearl stopped altogether.
“Long story short, he hurt me, and then as he was putting me in his car, I was rescued by one of the preschool mommies. Evan’s mom. But the worst part . . . my parents didn’t change. I almost died because they forgot me, and it didn’t faze them. Oh, they fussed for a week or two, but then they went right back to pretending they didn’t have a daughter. Evan’s mother started picking me up from preschool every day. I pretty much grew up in their house.”
Silent, Pearl started walking again. She didn’t know what to say to that story. As childhood traumas went, she’d heard worse. Honestly, she’d probably caused worse. But she hadn’t expected Bethany to have encountered Daddy.
They reached the school parking lot. Shadows from the scattered few cars fell across the lot, but it was mostly an empty field of cracked pavement. Bethany’s ancient minivan was on the opposite side.
Streetlights flickered on, creating pools of sickly yellow light. Above, the sky was matte gray.
As they crossed the parking lot, Pearl tried to figure out why it bothered her so much, the idea of Daddy with a young Bethany. She kept hearing Bethany’s voice in her head asking, Who’s hurting you, Pearl? She was focusing so hard on her thoughts that she failed to hear the footsteps behind them.
Bethany heard them first. She swung around. Only a millisecond later, Pearl reacted too. Behind them, Jadrien smiled and spread his hands to show he was innocent. “Pearl, jewel of my life, aren’t you going to introduce me to your little school friend?”
Chapter
SEVENTEEN
Jadrien leaned against a streetlamp in the middle of the parking lot. Amber light spilled over him, casting shadows across his pale face. His own shadow pooled at his feet. Bethany shot a look at her minivan—still several rows away.
Pearl saw Jadrien’s lips quirk into a half smile. His eyes were pinned on Bethany.
Without thinking about it, Pearl slid in front of Bethany. “Bethany, this is Jadrien. He’s what is known as a ‘bad boy.’”
“Ah, Pearl, you flatter me,” Jadrien said. He flashed a full smile at Bethany over Pearl’s shoulder and oozed the usual bad-boy kind of charm. “I’m the baddest boy.”
Pearl rolled her eyes. “Bet that sounded cooler in your head.”
Jadrien picked up Pearl’s hand, turned it over, and kissed her wrist. “So, where were you headed, and may I join you?”
Pearl listened hard for any other vampires. Wind blew a stray crumpled paper across the parking lot. It somersaulted until it hit a streetlamp. “Mmm, no.”
“Pearly.” He clucked his tongue in disapproval. “Remember what we learned from that kindergarten teacher we once had dinner with: ‘Share, care, and always be fair.’”
“Not in a sharing mood today, Jadrien.”
“Tonight,” he corrected. He continued to hold her wrist. “Interesting slip of the tongue, Pearl. You really seem to be embracing your new lifestyle. Exactly where are you taking this lovely lamb? Are you heading out for an ice-cream soda together? Oh, Pearl, are you and little Bethany now BFFs?”
“She’s not for sharing.”
Behind her, Pearl heard Bethany shift as if preparing to run. She wouldn’t make it three feet if she did run. Pearl hoped she had enough sense to keep still and quiet.
Bethany whispered, “Pearl, what’s going on?”
“Good question, Pearl,” Jadrien said. “What’s going on? Level with your new BFF.” He drifted closer, still smiling.
“She’s mine,” Pearl said. It was her choice when and where to drink from Bethany. She’d do it when she was good and ready, not a moment before. “Back off.”
“‘Back off’? That’s your witty repartee?” He laughed, a hollow sound that skittered like wind across the silent parking lot. “I expect better of you, Pearl. We all do. What would your parents say if they knew you’d taken in a stray pet?”
She kept her arms by her sides. If he attacked, she’d be ready.
Bethany bristled. “I’m not a pet!”
“Your pet needs some lessons in manners,” Jadrien said. “Let me help you train her, Pearl.” He reached past Pearl and let his finger brush against Bethany’s cheek. Bethany leaped backward. She clutched her backpack in front of her as if it were a shield.
“Should I run?” Bethany asked Pearl.
The human asks the vampire for advice? What next, flying pigs? Pearl thought. After their escapade in the woods, Bethany shouldn’t trust her. Still, Pearl gauged the distance between them and the minivan. . . She frowned at the rust-pocked vehicle. The tires had been slashed. Clever boy.
Jadrien was practically purring. “By all means. I love when they run.”
Pearl put her hand on Jadrien’s chest. “I said no.” He didn’t deserve to be the one to destroy Bethany’s intelligence and her perkiness and her ridiculous innocent friendliness.
“Ooh, so forceful,” he said. “Sexy.”
“You know I can kick your ass, right?”
“And hand it to me on a platter,” he breathed. He took a step toward her, closing the gap. “Come on, Pearl, you have to admit that we’re a good team. I’ve missed that. I’m not complete without you.”
“I’ve been around,” Pearl said.
“But you haven’t been yourself,” Jadrien said. “Not since—”
She jabbed him hard on the shoulder before he could spill Family secrets in front of a human. Mind-boggling that he hadn’t yet learned to think before he spoke.
“She won’t remember,” he said. He pouted at his shoulder and rubbed it as if she’d wounded him instead of poked him.
Pearl said to Bethany, “You heard me say ‘no,’ right? I’m speaking English. I’m talking out loud.” She shook her head. “You wouldn’t think from looking at him that he’d be this slow.”
“I hesitate to even suggest this,” Jadrien said, “but you aren’t protecting her, are you, Pearl?” His voice was bland, as if the whole situation were only mildly interesting to him, but Pearl knew him better. He was as tense as a tiger who’d spotted an antelope. “Why would you do that?”
Bethany spoke up, “Because she’s my friend.”
Both Pearl and Jadrien looked at her.
Bethany lifted her chin and glared at Jadrien. “Fine. Then I’m her friend.”
“Weird,” Jadrien commented.
“Seriously,” Pearl said.
“I could just . . .”
“No,” Pearl said.
“It would only take a—”
“No.”
“Just a—”
“No.”
“You’re no fun anymore, Pearl.” He pouted. “What if I asked for her as a token of your affection? Prove that you care about me, that you want to be with me.”
Bethany yelped. “I’m not a token! Pearl, your boyfriend is a psychopath. Did you notice that? We need to leave. Come with me.” She tugged on Pearl’s sleeve as a car whipped through the parking lot. Bethany must have thought she was safe since they weren’t alone—
Car wheels squealing, the driver slammed on the brakes only a few yards from them. Evan stuck his head out the car window. “Pearl? Bethany? You okay?”