Drink, Slay, Love

Chapter Eighteen

Blood filled her mouth, her throat, her nose. It blinded and deafened her. She tasted it, and she breathed it. Filling her, it spread through every inch of her body until she felt saturated. She felt as if she held an ocean inside her, and she felt as powerful as that ocean. She was the tides and the currents, and waves crashed inside of her. Her skin couldn't possibly hold it all in. She felt as if she'd burst.

"Pearl."

The voice was distant.

Mother's voice.

It cut through the red haze. Her voice sliced through the waves. "You part the Red Sea," Pearl said, and then she laughed in a high-pitched cascade.

"She's blood drunk," Mother said. "Clean her."

Dimly, Pearl felt her clothes peeled from her, but she didn't care. The blood thrummed so close to the surface that her skin felt hot. Cold water hit her. It slammed against her throat, her chest, her stomach, her legs. It drenched her hair and dripped over her face. She laughed again as the drops sizzled on her skin.

She heard other voices and began to be able to separate them: Daddy, Uncle Felix, Aunt Lianne, and Uncle Stefan. Uncle Stefan barked orders. Gradually, the blood receded like the tide pulled back from her mind. She saw the parking lot of Dairy Hut. She saw her cousins scrubbing the step where she had drunk from Brad.

"Every drop gone," Uncle Stefan said. "It must be untraceable."

Through the back-door window, Pearl saw Daddy inside with Uncle Pascha. Both of them held gasoline containers. She saw Brad. He was slumped across a table. His cheek was pressed against the plastic surface. His arm hung limp over the side. His eyes were open and very, very dead.

A dozen memories flashed through her mind. She saw him as he was a few hours ago, talking about high school. She saw him on the day Zeke and Matt had caught her. She saw him on the day the unicorn had staked her. She saw him again and again: standing behind the ice-cream counter captivated by her, scooping ice cream with shaking hands, and then following her behind the store . . . all the way back in her memories to the first time she'd waltzed into the Dairy Hut. But she couldn't remember what he'd said or what she'd said that first time. She couldn't remember if he'd been different before he'd met her. This night, his last night, was the first time she had talked to him really and the first that she'd listened to him.

And she'd killed him.

All of a sudden, the red haze dissipated. She shivered as the water prickled her skin, ice cold. Inside, she felt herself begin to scream. Silent and without end.

"You killed him," Uncle Stefan said, as if echoing her thoughts. He was suddenly in front of her, though she hadn't seen him move. Last she'd seen he'd been in front of the dumpsters. "You'll bring police attention, press attention, human attention here, before the Fealty Ceremony. You have failed the Family at this most important of times."

"She can't hear you," Mother said. "She's lost in the blood."

"She's lost to us," Uncle Stefan said. "She must be destroyed. She's a danger."

"She will be contained," Mother said.

"We can't afford this kind of disaster at this time. All eyes will be on us."

Daddy joined the conversation, minus the gasoline container. "We know. It will be dealt with, Stefan."

"With fire? You risk us all for her mistake."

"Fire will destroy all evidence of her," Daddy said. "And no vampire hunter in the world would expect us to use it."

Pearl held very still. For some reason they thought she was unaware. She wondered why she was aware, but shoved that mystery away with all the others to be addressed later. Right now . . . this was bad. Very, very bad.

She watched without even flickering her eyes as Mother, Daddy, and Uncle Stefan went inside to finish laying the stage for covering up her mistake. The cousins added bleach to the step and then dirt to disguise the area. Uncle Pascha spread gasoline throughout the store as Pearl attempted to stave off panic. She'd never seen or heard of vampires using fire to cover a scene before. Fire was anathema to them. One lick of flame, and a vampire could burst into a blaze as fast as if touched by sunlight. The fact that they were willing to risk it . . .

Pearl didn't wait to see what would happen next. She had to flee. She didn't let the decision show in her face or register in her muscles first. She simply ran.

Vaulting over the nearest dumpster, she bolted into the woods between the houses. She left her clothes behind. She left everyone behind. Full of fresh blood, she had more power in her than any other vampire in Connecticut. She let it fuel her as she ran faster and faster, beyond the speed of a human, beyond the speed of a car, until she felt as if she'd melded with the wind.

Her cousins fell quickly behind her.

She laughed out loud as the blood surged through her. Stolen blood. Lifeblood. At this moment she felt as if she was the most powerful and fastest being on the face of the planet. She couldn't be stopped.

She ran barefoot and naked without feeling the pavement beneath her feet. All she felt was the wind on her skin as she ran across town. Red tinted her sight again.

Somewhere in the glory of running, conscious thought crept back in. They'd be after her. Her Family. They'd chase her. She couldn't run forever. At some point she'd have to run toward somewhere, instead of merely away.

She had to find a place to hide.

She knew one place where she could go, one place that her Family didn't know about. Pearl switched direction and let the blood push her faster and farther. She didn't think the Family could track her—they'd hosed her down specifically to erase all hint of her—but she wasn't about to take the risk. She crossed through backyards, swam through swimming pools to confuse any scent, splashed through every stream and gutter puddle. She wove through the streets, ran over the rooftops, and climbed through the trees.

Only when she was sure that no one, not even a vampire, could track her did she let herself approach Evan's house.