“Who's there?”
The thick wooden door muffled Professor Clerval's voice, but Leesa was glad he was in his office. She had arrived early for her appointment, and with no yellow glow seeping from beneath the door, she'd been afraid he might not be here yet.
“It's Leesa Nyland, Professor,” she called loudly.
A moment later, she heard the click of the old lock and the door swung open. The office was dark, lit only by two flickering candles atop the professor's desk. No wonder she hadn't seen any light under the door.
“Come in, come in,” Dr. Clerval invited as he stepped back from the doorway. As soon as Leesa was inside, he pushed the door closed and turned the lock.
Leesa wondered why he was keeping the door locked. “I'm sorry I'm early,” she said, standing in the center of the small office and letting her eyes adjust to the dimness. The air was thick with the fruity scent of his pipe tobacco, and she saw
Leesa cringed at the image—thank God her mom had settled for tomato juice. “What does that have to do with my mom?”The professor looked up from the manuscript and smiled. “It's the next part I think you'll find interesting.” He ran his finger across the page, finding the lines he wanted. “The farmer tried getting help from the local shaman and even from the church, but nothing helped. Then a few years later, he and his wife came across the man she said had bitten her. The farmer killed him with a machete, and then watched in horror as she threw herself upon the body and began drinking his blood. The farmer pulled her off as quickly as he could and took her home.” Professor Clerval looked up and met Leesa's eyes. “She never drank blood again.”Leesa took a moment to digest what the professor had just said. “You mean…?”Professor Clerval smiled. “Yes. Apparently, the woman became her o
A column of smoke rose straight and thin from the short stone chimney atop the old log cabin—Leesa wished the thoughts in her head could be so simple. No chance of that, though, not with all she had learned in the past few days and all she now had to figure out and make decisions about. And that didn't even count the amazing trip that had carried her here. “Carried” was exactly the word, too. Rave set her down gently on the narrow dirt road in front of the old cabin, more a wide path than a road, really. She still didn't quite believe the trip she had just experienced—maybe she was dreaming. If it was a dream, it was one of the best she'd ever had, Rave effortlessly carrying her cradled in his arms from Weston to Moodus, moving easily through the trees, following old game paths where he could, at speeds that should have been impossible. The fifteen-mile jaunt had taken little more than an hour—a wondrous hour Leesa spent pressed against his chest, soaking in his delicious he
Vampire blood? What the heck was he talking about? Her brain did another few flip-flops. If this kept up, she was going to end up in a padded cell somewhere. If she did, she hoped they served mead.Rave recognized the confusion on her face. “Didn't you say your mother was pregnant when she was bitten by the grafhym?”“Yes, but…” Leesa's mouth opened wider as the pieces clicked into place. Her mother's blood was her blood. But if that were true, why didn't she have any of her mom's symptoms? “But I'm not sensitive to sunlight or anything like that,” she said. “Heck, I don't even like tomato juice. How come?” Rave shrugged. “I don't know.”“Maybe the placenta filtered your mother's blood enough to keep you from being affected in the same way she was,” Balin said. “I think young Rave was kidding when he said he was drawn by your vampire blood, but perhaps he's rig
Rain fell that night, a slow, soundless rain, and Leesa loved it. But even if she hadn't, it would not have mattered—not with the memory of that amazing kiss still lingering in her brain and warming her heart.She was sitting on the lawn in front of her dorm, her back propped comfortably against the smooth trunk of a stout maple, protected from the wet grass by a black plastic trash bag. Rave had dropped her off a few hours earlier, following another dreamlike journey cradled in his arms. After eating a tasteless dinner of mac and cheese—in her euphoric mood, it could have been cardboard and she wouldn't have minded—she had tried to study, but found herself too restless and excited to stay cooped up in her room. Every time she thought about that wonderful kiss—which was anytime she didn't force her thoughts elsewhere—her pulse quickened, her skin grew flush, and she couldn't keep from smiling.So she had donned her bright blue waterproof W
There was nothing threatening in his voice, nothing to hint he was doing anything more than making conversation, but Leesa was suddenly aware of her vulnerability. She felt her heartbeat quicken, and hoped her alarm didn't show on her face.“So, what brings you out on a night like this?” she asked. The question seemed stupid the moment she asked it—he had just said how much he liked the rain—but Stefan didn't seem to notice.“I like walking in the rain. It's so quiet and peaceful, especially at night.” Stefan looked at the building behind her, as if noticing it for the first time. “Is that your dorm?”His question seemed genuine. Leesa was glad to know he hadn't been stalking her, and she hoped he'd come this way purely by chance. “Yeah. I thought I was gonna take a walk, but this spot seemed so inviting, I just plopped down here.”Stefan glanced at the ground beside her. “Mind if I join yo
“If I am out of my mind, so be it,” Leesa said, struggling to keep the fear out of her voice as she stood between Rave and Stefan. “But I'm not going to let you two hurt each other.” Her eyes shifted back and forth from one to the other, trying to perform the impossible task of watching both at once. Rave and Stefan cocked their heads to the side, unwilling to break eye contact, even with her in the way. She knew if she moved back a step or two she would be better able to see them both, but then she wouldn't be between them, and it was only her presence there that was keeping them apart. Now, if she could just figure out a way to keep them that way. In the blink of an eye, Rave flashed to his left, trying to create an opening, but she countered by quickly moving closer to Stefan. With the tree behind Stefan, Rave couldn't get to him without endangering her, and she knew he'd never risk that. And Stefan had sworn he would never hurt her, and somehow she believed him,
Mother died today—she just didn't know it yet. Leesa hoped she would soon be reborn into an easier, happier, more normal life. At least that was the plan. If Professor Clerval's manuscript was correct about the grafhym blood's reversing the effects of the one-fang's bite. And if Rave could find the grafhym again and capture it alive. And if the injection did not produce any unexpected side effects. Then everything would be perfect. If…Getting her mom to Connecticut had been easier than Leesa expected. Not easy, mind you, not by a long shot, but easier nonetheless. It started with a two-hour phone call, followed by an early-morning cross-country flight with Aunt Janet, then a red-eye return flight to New York City the same night. Uncle Roger picked them up at the airport and drove them back to Meriden, where they arrived well before dawn. It had been an exhausting twenty-four hours, but at least her mom was he
Ignoring the pelting rain, he leaped easily across a rushing creek swollen by the storm to a width of nearly ten feet. The darkness didn't bother him—you could not hunt vampires without the keenest of night vision. His pace hardly slowed as he raced up a steep ridge on the opposite side of the stream, zigzagging between the trees. His speed actually helped him climb the slippery slope, for his feet did not stay in contact with the wet leaves and grass long enough to slip. At the top of the ridge, he turned west, finally slowing when he reached a gigantic granite outcrop he had marked on his earlier trip here.He moved more stealthily now, easing his way down the far side of the ridge. He wasn't worried the grafhym would hear his approach—no creature moved as silently as a volkaane—but he was unsure how sharp the grafhym’s vision might be, or how keenly it might sense motion in the darkness. He hoped it was asleep in the rocky den wher