Blood Forever by Mari Mancusi
The one who no longer knows I exist.
I scan the cafeteria, catching sight of my sister, sitting and laughing with her best friend, Spider, as if no time at all has passed between them. My hackles rise. How can she be adjusting so nicely when I’m feeling like I’m in the freaking Twilight Zone? I stomp over in her direction.
“But Rayne, there’s no such thing as a level eighty mage!” I hear Spider protest as I approach. “And I’ve never heard of that spell…”
“Oh. Right.” Rayne looks suddenly flustered as she sees me approach. “Well, I think it’s…um, in the next expansion pack?” She looks up at me and smiles nervously. “Hey, Sunny!” she cries. “How’s it going?”
“I don’t see anything listed here about a new expansion pack,” Spider mutters, staring down at her phone while my sister shoots me a Save me! look.
“Rayne, I’ve got to talk to you,” I butt in, now realizing that perhaps my sister isn’t fitting in quite as well as it first appeared. I shouldn’t be happy about that, but I kind of am. “Alone.”
“Sorry, Spider,” Rayne says quickly, a look of relief washing over her face. “Can I catch you later?” She leaps up from her seat and follows me to an empty table. Once we’re seated, she wipes her brow. “Thank God,” she says. “I had no idea how hard it was to remember which game updates happened when.” She presses a few buttons on her phone. “I could have sworn the two-point-three patch had come out by now…”
I roll my eyes. “Um, can you review your game history on your own time?”
“Oh. Sorry.” She looks up, stuffing her phone in her pocket. “What’s going on? Are you having fun in your old life? Did you get to see some of your friends? Have you found Jake Wilder yet? Is he as hot as you remember him? Maybe you should ask him to prom. I mean, since this time around you don’t have that magical vampire scent to attract him and get him to ask you—”
“Rayne,” I interrupt. “I can’t take it anymore. It’s all too vapid and boring. I mean, no one here cares about anything but dressing up and hooking up—and not necessarily in that order.”
“Well, evidently a few people are interested in the nuances of game patch releases…”
“Rayne! I’m serious,” I cry, giving her a pleading look. “What’s wrong with me? I should be overjoyed to spend long hours discussing the benefits and drawbacks of various lip glosses.”
My sister raises a skeptical eyebrow.
“Don’t mock! I used to love that kind of thing,” I confess. “And yet now all I want to do is take a tube of it and shove it up my best friend’s nose—to get her to stop talking!”
“You’ve come a long way, young grasshopper.”
“I used to love high school.” I sigh. “Everything about it. Even the homework wasn’t so bad. But now, just sitting in my classes, knowing I’m wasting my life away…” I look up sadly. “I can’t take it.”
My sister laughs bitterly. “You can’t!” she exclaims. “What about me? I didn’t like it the first time around. That’s half the reason I went and got my vampire certification to begin with. To get the hell out of this place.” My twin shakes her head. “By all rights, I should be going to my vampire-in-training class tonight, getting ready for my undead transformation. Not stuck arguing video game semantics with a fire mage who evidently has the entire Vampires vs. Zombies wiki memorized.”
I look at her thoughtfully. I’d forgotten all about that little three-month training class she took to first qualify to become a vampire. I guess that would be going on right about now, one month before her graduation.
“And you’re not going to go this time?” I ask curiously.
Rayne shrugs. “What would be the point? It’d only start the badness all over again. And we’d end up right back where we started. Let’s face it, our best bet is to forget the whole vampire thing altogether and learn to live as mortals in this brave new world.”
“Boring new world, more like,” I say with a moan.
“Normal new world,” Rayne counters. “The kind of world you said you always wanted to live in, I might add. A world with no crazy, death-defying adventures. No super-secret conspiracies. A world where Mom lives at home and Dad isn’t dead. And neither are you. I mean, you have to admit, being stuck in algebra class is still better than being stuck in Hades. At least you have a chance to pass algebra and move on.”
“A very slight chance,” I snort. Half of me wants to say high school is worse than the seventh circle of Hell, but then I catch the hopeful look on her face and force myself to nod in agreement instead. After all, she could have just left me there and gone on with her own life. But no, she did all this for me. At the very least, I need to act grateful.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate being here,” I assure her. “I just…well, I miss Magnus. It’s so crazy to know that he’s out there, somewhere, and I have no idea where.”
“Well, that’s not entirely true,” Rayne clarifies. “I mean, we know where he’ll be tonight, obviously.”
My heart skips a beat. “We do?”
“Well, yeah. He’ll be at the vampire-in-training class. Actually, this was the first night the two of us ever met,” Rayne explains. “But don’t worry, like I said, I won’t be going this time around,” she adds. “I’m totally committed to staying vampire free from this point forward as promised. No matter what.”
“Me, too,” I find myself echoing. “Vampire free, that’s me.”
But my mind has other ideas…
4
I resist the nearly irresistible urge to reach up under my black-and-red-trimmed corset to give my bellybutton a good solid scratch. Seriously, I don’t know how the heck Rayne wears this Goth stuff every day of the week. It is so majorly uncomfortable, what with the thick black lace rubbing my armpits raw and the corset bones digging into my waist, making it nearly impossible to take in a full breath. And that’s not even mentioning the smoosh factor going on with my already admittedly small breasts. Seriously, give me a pair of Old Navy boot-cut jeans, tank top, and flip-flops any day of the week, thank you very much. Sure, they may not qualify me to rock a runway, but at least I’m able to take advantage of my full lung capacity.
But unfortunately tonight my own “uniform” just won’t cut it. Not if I want to fool the vampires down at Blood Coven University into thinking I’m my twin sister, that is. Rayne wouldn’t be caught dead in jeans, which means that I must suffer through the agony and humiliation of sneaking out of the house in full-on Goth gear, complete with fluffy tulle skirt, ripped fishnets, and black boots with six-inch platform soles, all dug out of her jam-packed black-on-black-on-black closet.
I know, I know. I shouldn’t be doing this. And Rayne would freaking kill me if she found out I was. (Even before she learned it was in her clothes.) After all, the whole point behind this life “do-over” my sister arranged with the Lord of the Underworld was designed to give us the opportunity to go back to living a normal, vampire-free life. And if Rayne—the girl who loves vampires more than anything in the universe—is able to simply walk away from her vampire-in-training class, what the heck am I doing, choosing to attend in her stead?
But let’s be honest here; what would you do if you had the opportunity to catch a glimpse of your true love one last time? Could you just walk away—go see a movie instead? Yeah, I didn’t think so. And hey, it’s not like I’m going to go make out with the guy and declare my eternal devotion or anything. I’m just going to gaze upon him, quietly, from across the room. Take one last, longing look before I go back to my pathetic, normal, Magnus-free life, forever.
Besides, it’s not like I could do any more than that, even if I wanted to. This Magnus, the one who exists in this time period, doesn’t think of me as his girlfriend. He’s not in love with me. He doesn’t want to be with me. And, if we do happen to cross paths, he’s just going to assume I’m my sister. So no big deal.
Except, of course, it kind of is. It’s kind of the biggest deal ever.
And I’m totally down for all that to happen. After I get my one last look.
The vampire-in-training class is being held right outside Saint Patrick’s Cemetery—the secret location of Blood Coven HQ, not that I’m supposed to know that. The location of the vampire crypt is strictly classified until you become a full-blooded member. So instead they hold classes in a nearby former church, which seems a totally weird option, until you learn that this particular church has been long ago de-holyized and put out of official commission. Meaning the ground is no longer hallowed and perfectly fine and safe for vampire feet to walk over.
I head up the wooden front steps and through the front door, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at some of Rayne’s fellow vampire-in-training classmates who are standing outside smoking. I mean, hello? Could you be any more stereotypical if you tried? Every single one of them is dolled up in their Gothy best, complete with black (and/or hot-pink) hair, pancake-white makeup, and an inordinate amount of piercings. Seriously, doesn’t anyone outside the Goth scene want to become a vampire anymore? I mean, you’d think with the whole Twilight phenomenon we’d get a few Bellas out here at the very least.
“Name, please?”
I glance down at the bored-looking receptionist sitting at a card table just inside the front door. My eyes widen as I realize it’s none other than Marcia herself, Magnus’s former secretary. Of course right now, I guess, she’s his future secretary, still working for Lucifent, who’s currently Master of the Blood Coven. It’s not till Bertha slays Lucifent and Magnus takes over that she starts working for her new boss. (This time-travel stuff can be very confusing even if you are paying attention.)
“Um, are you deaf?” Marcia demands, her face twisting into a scowl. “I said, what is your name?”
Yup. She’s exactly the same. I bite back a frown, pinning my arms to my sides so as to avoid reaching my hands out and involuntarily strangling that haughty look right off her face. Bitch. After all, it’s because of her that Pyrus learned of our secret location under the streets of New York City. Because of her that I’m dead in the future. But what can I do? Accuse her of a crime she’s yet to commit? That’ll be sure to go off well. And besides, seeing as she’s a vampire and I’m just a puny mortal, I admit I might have a tough time cutting off her air supply using nothing more than my bare hands.
Gotta live and let live, I suppose. At least for now.
“S—I mean Rayne McDonald,” I reply instead, trying my best to sound as bored as she. She scans her list and checks me off, snapping her gum in an apparent effort to let me know how insignificant I am to her existence. If only she knew.
“You can go over and sit there,” she informs me, pointing a perfectly manicured finger to the left side of the church, where another group of Goths have congregated. Across the aisle, I notice a much more mainstream crowd hanging out chatting. The vampires themselves, I realize. Unlike their trying-too-hard mortal trainees, the vampires are dressed casually. Jeans, T-shirts, sundresses…and…I do a double take…is that really the same pink Bite Me tank top I ended up wearing on that fateful trip to Club Fang? The one that started all the trouble in the first place? I remember Rayne telling me she borrowed it off some vampire she met in training…
As I make my way over to the mortal section, I suddenly catch a glimpse of a door at the front of the church swinging open. I stop in my tracks, my heart skipping a beat, as a lone vampire steps out into the sanctuary.
Magnus.
My world spins off its axis as I watch him stop and stand just behind the altar, scanning the room with disinterested eyes. He looks bored, a little annoyed, and totally and utterly hot. My mind treats me to a vivid flashback of that first night we met at Club Fang. He was dressed in simple but elegant Armani, just like today, and I remember thinking he looked exactly like Orlando Bloom from the first Pirates movie, with his shoulder-length chestnut-colored hair tied back with a simple leather strap.
Tonight his hair hangs free, falling into his elfish blue eyes, brushing against his perfectly sculptured cheekbones and ending just short of his sensuous mouth. Suddenly I find myself with the inability to think of anything else in the world except for him, taking me into his arms and pressing those full, soft lips against my own, with a reverence and worship I’ve never fully deserved.
Oh, Magnus…I find myself stepping forward, my heart aching in my chest. Oh, my love…
He turns, raking a hand through his hair and clearing it from his face. His gaze locks onto mine, his eyes zeroing in on my own. I swallow hard and find myself giving him a small, hopeful wave and smile. But instead of smiling back—instead of his eyes lighting up as they fall upon my face—he merely raises a perfectly arched eyebrow, his beautiful lips curling into a small sneer as he gives me a critical once-over before turning away.
My heart plummets as reality comes crashing back down on me. He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t love me. All he can see is some stupid overdressed vampire wannabe stranger, just like the rest, making googly eyes at him from across the room. Ugh. What possessed me to dress like my sister tonight? I’ve only succeeded in repulsing my own boyfriend with a tacky outfit that isn’t even me.
Which is a good thing, I try to remind myself. The last thing I want is for him to be attracted to me when I’m supposed to stay far, far away.
But still, it hurts. Especially as I watch him walk over to one of the other vampires—the girl in the Bite Me tank—and whisper something in her ear. She turns and looks over in my direction, chuckling. Are they really making fun of me? My face burns in a mixture of embarrassment and fury.
What am I doing? Why am I even here? I should have stayed away—then I could have lived out the rest of my life, only remembering Magnus gazing upon me with adoration and love. Now I’ll be forced to remember his look of scorn and derision until my dying day.
I stumble toward the exit, my vision blurring with tears. I need to get out of here and fast. Before I dissolve in a pathetic puddle of lovelorn goo.
Unfortunately my escape attempt does not go as smoothly as I planned—mostly because I’m just not used to running around in boots with six-inch soles. So instead of slipping out the door and vanishing into the night, I find myself stumbling head over heels, crashing into a standing candelabra before becoming one with the marble floor.
The room, predictably, erupts in laughter. And here I thought my face couldn’t get any redder.
“Are you okay?”
I look up toward the sound of a familiar female voice. My eyes widen as I find none other than Charity herself—one of Magnus’s blood donors—looming above me, a worried look on her face. Without waiting for me to answer, she helps me up and leads me over to a nearby pew. I can feel the amused stares of all the vampires and mortals as I collapse onto the bench, but I force myself to ignore them.
“Thanks,” I say, letting out a long breath. “Sorry, just lost my footing there for a moment.”
She plops down beside me and reaches into her bag, pulling out a large chocolate chip cookie. “Eat this,” she instructs. “I find a little sugar helps when you’re all weak in the knees.”
I take the cookie gratefully. After all, she should know about weak knees, being a blood donor and all. She’s probably used to living life a pint or two short. And I appreciate her kindness—it’s more than I can say about anyone else in the room. “Thanks,” I say, taking a bite of the cookie. “I appreciate it.”
“I’m Charity,” she says, holding out a hand. “I assume you’re one of the trainees?”
I nod. “I’m Sun—I mean
Her eyes widen with interest. “Rayne McDonald?” she repeats. “So you’re—”
A shadow looms above us, cutting off her question. “There you are, Charity. You’re wanted in the back. Rachel tells me it’s time for your draining.”
Oh God. My throat goes dry. I’d know that deep, English-accented voice anywhere. If it were a thousand years since I’d heard it, I’d still know it better than my own. My hands start shaking uncontrollably and I quickly shove them under my thighs.
Don’t look up. Whatever you do, don’t look up. Keep your eyes glued to the floor until he walks away and out of your life forever.
But, of course, there’s no way I can do that.
And so I find myself gazing upon his beautiful face, my eyes falling helplessly into his own sapphire ones, framed by thick, black lashes. This is just Magnus, I try to scold my quickly melting heart. You’ve spent hours and days locked in his embrace. It should be no big deal to look at him.
But it is. It’s like the biggest deal ever.
“Very well, Master,” Charity says, rising to her feet and lowering her gaze in deference to the vampire. “I will go to Rachel right away. I know you must get very hungry on a night like tonight.”
Her words startle me out of my trance. “Night like tonight?” I find myself blurting out, realizing I have no idea what people actually do here at vampire training school. What could Magnus be up to that would require an extra pint of blood?
Magnus gives me a hard look. “Bite night,” he replies stiffly, as if it’s a burden to even lower himself to speak to me. He starts turning back to Charity.
“Magnus,” the blood donor hisses in a distinct stage whisper. “This is Rayne McDonald. Your, well…” She pauses, biting her lower lip, looking from her master to me. “You know…”
“Your future blood mate,” I finish, rising to my feet and giving him an awkward smile. “At your service.”