KISSES FROM HELL. Alyson NoelЧитать онлайн книгу.
was it you wanted?”
“I—nothing, nothing. Forget it. Just be careful with Dennis. Go use a different feeder next time.”
“Thanks for the advice I didn’t ask for.”
He sighed and seemed to be working hard to control his temper. “I’m just looking out for you, that’s all.”
His eyes suddenly lifted to something beyond her. Turning around, Rhea saw the brown-haired girl he’d been with earlier standing farther down the hall, watching them. Like Eric, she was dripping water everywhere. Her expression was hard to identify exactly, but Rhea felt pretty confident it wasn’t happy.
“Hi, Emma,” he said, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but in that hall right now.
“Hey,” Emma replied stiffly. “I tried to find you, and someone said they saw you down here. Weren’t you going to change clothes?”
“Yeah … I just ran into Rhea, and we started talking about Stephen’s amazing dive.”
Rhea arched an eyebrow and toyed with the idea of contradicting him. But the more she studied Emma, the more Rhea could now see that the other girl’s expression was obvious jealousy. It was nothing Rhea wanted to get involved in, so she allowed him his lie.
Eric put on a big smile, catching Rhea by surprise. In their brief acquaintance, his few smiles had always been small or melancholy. But this … this smile went a long way to win Emma over, and even Rhea felt her breath catch a little.
“See you around,” he told Rhea breezily. He walked past her and put an arm around Emma, leaning his face close to hers. “Now that you’re here, maybe you can help me change after all.”
Rhea repressed a grimace, but his remark erased the last signs of jealousy on Emma’s face. She cuddled up against Eric and made some vague good-bye to Rhea. Rhea watched the two of them stroll off, whispering and laughing, and was surprised to feel a pang of sadness inside her chest.
Immediately she shook it off and decided she’d just go to bed. Why should she care what this Eric guy said or did? She’d barely exchanged a dozen words with him. Resolved, she started to head upstairs toward her room. A moment later, she reconsidered and decided to tell Stephen good night.
Unsurprisingly, he was still outside, in the center of the party. He was soaked to the bone, and she wondered how many times he’d been in the lagoon. Vampires liked Chile in the winter because of the shorter sunlight, but the night was growing increasingly chilly. Liquor could only warm you up so much. Stephen didn’t seem to notice the temperature and was telling some story about the time he and some friends had broken into their math teacher’s office. The story involved vodka and ferrets.
Rhea smiled in spite of herself and waved at him as she emerged from the house. Catching sight of her, he gave her a big grin and put his story on hold.
“Hey, babe,” he said, coming over to her. He reached out for a dripping hug.
She laughed. “No way.”
He gave her an exaggerated sad face and then settled for a brief kiss on her lips, making sure to lean in far enough so she wouldn’t get wet.
“Acceptable?” he asked triumphantly.
“Very. I just wanted you to know I’m heading to bed.”
This time, his sad expression was real. “But we’re going to set some shots on fire. You could help.”
“That’s not quite the use of my magic I had in mind. At least being so soaked, you probably don’t have to worry about catching on fire yourself.”
“That’s true,” he agreed, apparently thinking of it for the first time. His face softened slightly. “We’ll talk tomorrow?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Eric might think Stephen was just some loud, in-your-face guy, but Rhea had learned long ago that her fiancé possessed a fair amount of vulnerability that few ever saw. As far as she could tell, she was the only one he ever showed that side to. He seemed to take comfort from her, like he needed to express his softer side in order to balance that other rowdy part of him. They’d grown up around each other, almost like siblings, and the engagement had seemed perfectly natural. They were both used to having the other around.
He squeezed her hand—his was wet, naturally—and then gave her another quick kiss before returning to his audience.
Emma was easy enough to soothe once Eric brought her back to his bedroom. She seemed much more interested in helping take his clothes off than discussing what had happened with Rhea, particularly since neither of them ended up putting on dry clothes or returning to the party.
Alcohol eventually made Emma fall into a heavy sleep, but as he lay in bed with her in his arms, he discovered he wasn’t as lucky. The sounds of the party outside wound down. It was getting pretty late for the Moroi and he knew the dark-tinted windows would eventually be lightening, sending most of his friends to bed. He stared at the ceiling, growing more and more sober, thinking about Rhea Daniels.
And really, it made no sense. Aside from those first few moments when they met, the two of them had yet to have a friendly conversation. Everything he said seemed to make her mad, and he couldn’t figure out why. He knew he shouldn’t worry about it. Who cared if she was touchy about everything? If she wanted to keep picking a fight, that was her problem. He’d have nothing to do with her.
And yet … no matter how often he told himself that, he still couldn’t shake the image of her radiant hair or wise eyes. Who needed the sun if you were around her? In those first moments on the boat, when she’d truly seemed to get how he felt about his mother, he’d had a brief flash of someone really and sincerely understanding him. No, more than that. Someone who actually cared. Although her attentions hadn’t been directed at him, he’d sensed that same characteristic in her when she’d spoken to the feeding room attendant and even that crazy Dennis guy. Rhea paid attention to people, to individuals.
He finally fell asleep, only to wake to a pounding headache. Emma, as always, displayed no symptoms of a hangover. She gave him a long, lingering kiss and tugged back on her still damp dress, promising to meet up with him in an hour to get blood before the next set of activities. They didn’t know exactly what was going on, but Jared had promised something entertaining.
When Eric joined Emma, she had changed and was as fresh and beautiful as ever, with no sign of her earlier disarrayed state. Eric had discovered his own shower had erased most of his headache, and linking hands with her, he allowed himself to relax and make an effort to enjoy the day.
The feeding area was much busier in the vampiric morning, since that was a preferred time to take blood. Eric and Emma stood in line, chatting with friends who looked like they’d done a bit too much partying. Someone came by with a stash of doughnuts pilfered from the breakfast buffet and passed the pastries out to the waiting group as appetizers to the blood.
When they reached the front of the line, Eric saw that a different attendant was on duty today. She marked their names on her list and waited for the next opening. When it came, she turned to Emma and said, “Go ahead, down to Dennis on the right.”
Eric caught Emma’s arm as she took a step forward. “Don’t.” He turned to the attendant. “We’ll wait for the next one. Let someone else in line go.”
The attendant started to protest—probably not liking someone dictating her job—but after a moment, she just shrugged and waved in the next person. Emma gave Eric a puzzled look, but another feeder became available before she could question him.
When they finished, she immediately jumped on the topic while walking back to the main part of the house. “What was that about? The feeder thing? Why did you stop me?”