Wicked Secrets Read online

  They got to Sherry and Ember’s room in record time – two point six seconds to be precise – and Reid put Sherry down. She stumbled on shaking legs and leaned against the wall. Her heart was racing like a hare on speed, and she stared at him with horrified green eyes. At another time, he might have found her obvious terror amusing.

  “Never,” she gasped, “Do that. Again.”

  He nodded curtly, but he wasn’t really listening. He turned the door handle and threw the door open, not sure what he expected to see behind it. For a second, it looked like nothing was wrong. Ember was lying in her bed, curled up, apparently asleep…and then she whined, a desperate sound of pain, and his heart stopped beating. Literally. Just for a second.

  He darted to the bed, round the other side, and saw Ember’s eyes were squeezed shut and her jaw was clenched. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, her fingers digging into her sides, and her duvet was tangled around her legs. He reached out to touch her, and she suddenly rolled away, turning over with a gasp. She whined again, and kicked at her duvet, curling her legs up against her body.

  Reid stared in horror, and felt Sherry hovering beside him anxiously. Quietly, she asked, “What’s wrong with her?”

  He shook his head, tugging a hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with admitting the last thing he wanted to admit: something was wrong with Ember, and he didn’t know what to do.

  ** Ember **

  “Ember, what’s wrong?” Reid’s voice startled her out of her restless tossing and turning. God, her stomach hurt so much. Her head and her jaws, too. She hadn’t even realised he was in the room. How long had he been there without her noticing?

  “Mh, it hurts,” she whined, curling into a ball and clutching her stomach. This morning she’d thought it was just stress and lack of sleep that was making her feel ill. But this was different, more like a clawing pain in her stomach than just nausea. She felt dizzy, like the room was spinning, but she was lying down. Her jaw ached like she’d had her canines and molars ripped out with pliers. What the hell was wrong with her? She groaned in agony.

  “What hurts? Ember, what’s sore?” Reid’s voice was close to her now, like he was kneeling right next to her bed, but she couldn’t force her eyes open to check. She gritted her teeth against the sharp pain in her belly, but it made the agony in her jaws worse. She’d been only a little sick this morning! What came on so fast and so strong like this? A burst stomach ulcer? Probably. A stress-induced stomach ulcer was really quite likely at this point, but it wouldn’t make her jaws hurt like this.

  “My-my stomach. And my, ugh, jaws,” she grunted through her teeth. The last thing she needed to worry about was her health. She didn’t think vampires could get ill, but then again she was only half-vamp….wait…something, a thread of a notion, tickled the back of her mind, but before she could grasp the idea, a new wave of dizziness hit her, making her feel like she would throw up. She tried to lean over the side of the bed, just in case, but pain lanced through her gut, rendering her paralysed.

  There was a long pause where she could hear Reid hissing something to someone, and someone replying in a rough whisper. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, except when Reid said, “…could be that, but…how to get her to drink…”

  More whispering, and then, “Ember, open your mouth. Open it.” Reid’s voice was sharp and commanding, edged with panic, and if she hadn’t been in so much pain, she might’ve snapped at him.

  Instead she hissed through gritted teeth, “I can’t! It hurts too much!” There was a heartbeat of silence, and then something prodded into her mouth, rubbing her gums; Reid’s finger. She jerked back, eyes and mouth flying open in surprise. “Ah, what the hell?” she cursed, glaring at him and, momentarily, forgetting the gnawing pain in her belly. Reid didn’t give her answer, instead he just held up his wrist. It was bleeding. And his finger was red with blood. Putting two and two together didn’t take much work, but Ember only managed to get to the adding and not the result before the pain swept over her anew. The tickling in the back of her mind was more of a thumping now, and she was trying to make the connection between the blood and the idea bashing at her head. Luckily, Reid gave her the answer.

  “Ember, you need blood. You need to drink blood. This is what happens when a vampire doesn’t get blood, and it’s especially bad right after they’ve turned,” he said, quietly but urgently. The idea in the back of her head broke free. Yes, she was a vampire. She needed blood. And the smell of it…wait, she could smell blood now? Great, she thought sarcastically. Only, it kind of was. The blood smelled lovely, rich as melted chocolate and spicy as spiced-apple. It was mouth-watering. She could hear it pulsing under Reid’s warm skin, fresh and luscious and rich. Her ears were filled with the thudding of his pulse. She knew what she wanted, and with him so close…

  She uncurled and, lightning fast, stuck out at Reid’s waiting wrist. The blood fell on her tongue like electricity, tasting alive and vibrant and powerful. And each ounce of blood chased away the gnawing pains and aching in her jaw, until slowly it spread around her body like champagne in her veins. It melted in her stomach, seeping through her nerves and turning into the kind of warmth that usually made her want to kiss Reid, not bite him. It was like some weird aphrodisiac, making her want both Reid’s blood and his body. If only she could let go of his wrist, she’d wrap her arms round him and…

  And then, abruptly, she didn’t want it anymore. The blood, that is, not his body – she always wanted that. But the aches and pains had melted away and left her with a bubbly, warm feeling. The dizziness had passed and she could think clearly again. The first thought that pervaded her fizzing mind was a thought to stop drinking. So she did.

  She let go of Reid’s wrist and sat back, breathing deeply. She retracted her fangs, wondering vaguely why she hadn’t felt them extend, and rubbed at her mouth. Then she forced her eyes open and chewed her lip, covering her mouth with her hand. Oops. Reid was kneeling on the floor, his wrist smeared in blood and drops bleeding into her duvet cover near him, and his eyes were wide, his own fangs extended. What a mess, Ember thought, slightly amused despite herself.

  “So…um, that’s what bloodlust is like?” She tried to sound casual, but her voice shook as she absorbed what she’d just done. She’d actually drunk Reid’s blood. And she’d loved it.

  Reid blinked, visibly swallowed, and took a deep breath before speaking. “Do you feel okay now? I mean, there’s no pain or anything, is there? You might be a bit…fuzzy for a minute but aside from that you should be fine.” Reid sounded almost as shaky as she was, but there was a husky note in his voice too. Ember really looked at him, and saw there was a very fine sheen of sweat on his forehead, and strands of silky hair were clinging to his face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were dark with desire. Maybe the lust part of bloodlust didn’t just go one way.

  “I’m fine,” she said, not sure if she was lying or not. “Are you okay? I don’t know what happened; I just sort of lost it. God, it was weird. Is it supposed to feel so…” Ember struggled to make herself say the word in her head, feeling a blush creep over her face. What just happened was simply the latest addition to a long list of things to worry about. Worry number 47: Need to drink blood. Worry 48: Drinking blood is a turn on, she thought.

  Fortunately, Reid had no issues with saying what she couldn’t. “Arousing? It varies. With age, with blood type, the relationship between the participants, and so on.” Reid leaned his head back on the nightstand and closed his eyes briefly.

  Ember groaned and put her head in her hands. “As if I didn’t have enough to deal with,” she sighed. She shook her head, and Reid tossed her a small, impish smile. “I am so going to die of a brain aneurysm. And I’ll die soon if that’s the case. Better plan my funeral.” Ember collapsed back on her pillows and pulled one over her face.

  “I doubt vampires can have brain aneurysms. But blood drinking isn’t something to be worr
ied about. We already knew it might be possible that you’d need to, so at least it didn’t completely blindside us. I know you’re stressed, but you should only need to feed once a week at most. Probably less since you are only half-vamp. And come on, is it really so bad?” Reid grinned, showing fangs. Truthfully, no, it wasn’t bad at all. She was still feeling the effects of his blood trickling through her veins. It was better than a caffeine hit.

  “Have I got blood on my face?” She lifted the pillow and heard Reid chuckle, though she wasn’t looking at him.

  “A little.”

  She frowned and crawled off her bed, slipping into the bathroom to wash her face. Looking in the mirror, she realised Reid was lying. ‘A little’ turned out to be a lot. She looked like she’d been mushing strawberries on her face. With a sigh, she turned the tap on and soaked a face cloth, then proceeded to clean her gruesome mask of blood off. She flattened her ruffled hair, and stared at her own reflection. She still looked the same, like herself. Still looked human, but she looked closer. Maybe she was a little paler, her freckles a little lighter, but that could be because of the weather. Her mouth was still the same soft shape, same rosy pink. Her eyes were still the same pale powder blue, surrounded by the same long, dark lashes. But was there something more there? Maybe a little glint, a touch of ice, of death? All she could see was what she’d always seen: blue eyes with lines of mercury and sapphire in the irises. It was no wonder nobody knew vampires existed. They never looked any different to humans, unless they had their fangs out.

  “Hey, what are you looking at?” Ember jumped at Reid’s voice coming from the doorway. She’d been too enveloped in her self-examination to notice him standing there. She turned and smiled at him.

  “Nothing really,” she said with a shrug. “And you lied. That was more than a little blood.” She brushed past him and wandered to her dresser.

  He followed her back into the bedroom, saying, “By the way, how did you stop?” Reid sounded puzzled, and curious as he folded himself on the end of Sherry’s bed and gazed at her.

  “What do you mean?” Now she was puzzled. She tugged through her hair unnecessarily with the brush on her dresser, avoiding looking in the mirror again.

  “When you were drinking my blood, you shouldn’t have been able to stop on your own. The first time is always difficult to handle, but you stopped yourself. How did you manage it? I should’ve had to pry you off with a crowbar.”

  “I don’t know really. I just suddenly didn’t want it anymore. Like flipping a switch, I just had the urge to stop,” she explained.

  “Hmm…well, I suppose that’s a good sign. It means you’re unlikely to kill anyone accidentally.” Reid looked nonchalant, his eyes roving the room absently. Yeah, because accidentally killing someone would be nothing more than an inconvenience. Ember got shivers at the idea. She was often violent and she didn’t have any problems with hurting people who pissed her off, but she didn’t want to kill anyone.

  “Fabulous,” she muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “At least I don’t have to worry about having that kind of thing on my conscience. But can I remind you that we don’t know how often I’ll need to…feed…and it could come on fast. What if I’m around my mother or something? Or if I’m out at my tree and there’s nobody around?” She frowned, thinking that if she got the craving while she was sitting in her tree, she’d surely fall out of it. That would hurt, even if not for long.

  “Well, your mum pisses you off anyway. You might as well chew on her as payback. And if you’re out at your tree, you can eat a bunny or something.” Reid snickered and she threw her hairbrush at him, missing by miles. He watched it sail past, and started laughing silently, his shoulders shaking.

  Ember threw up her arms in frustration. “This isn’t funny, idiot! I’m not going to feed on my mum, and I’m not going to snack on innocent animals,” she growled, gagging at the very idea of biting into a sweet little bunny. People could fight back, animals couldn’t. The picture that came to mind then, was one she hadn’t thought of in a while: the mangled crow on her bedroom floor. She gritted her teeth and pushed the image away.

  Reid seemed to have noticed, because he wasn’t smiling now. He got up and came to put his arms around her. “Hey now, it’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out. You won’t have to feed on animals, I promise,” he whispered into her hair, hugging her close. She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed, relaxing into the warmth and solidity of his body and the lovely scent of his skin. He smelled like spiced apple and aftershave. “We have time to work this out. You shouldn’t need to feed for at least a week, probably longer. And if worse comes to worst, I’m still here. I don’t mind being fed on…”

  She noted the mischievous tone in his voice, and looked up at him disapprovingly. She didn’t want to have to feed on him; she didn’t want to have to feed on anyone. “By you. Only you.” Reid added quickly, misreading her disapproval. She rolled her eyes, and he grinned his devil-may-care smile, easing her worry a little. Okay, she could live with feeding on him every so often, she supposed.

  “What? You have more than one vampire girlfriend?” she teased.

  “Half-vamp, remember? And nope, I have only one girlfriend, and she’s all I need,” he said quietly and she smiled helplessly at him. He really could be sweet sometimes. She reached up stroked his hair, placing a tender kiss on his mouth.

  “I really don’t know what I’d do without you, you know,” she murmured into his neck. It was true; without Reid, she wasn’t sure how she’d be able to handle all of this, all the tangled strands of her complicated life. Sure, he was partly a cause of the fraying threads, but he was also the stitch that held it all together; he and Sherry were. Even Ricky, too, she supposed.

  “I know,” Reid said softly, “I never thought I’d care about someone this way, but I guess I was wrong. God only knows how I got on before you came along.” More sappy words, but the fluttering in Ember’s stomach was butterflies, not nausea for once. Was this how Sherry always felt around Ricky? It was nice, in a strange way.

  They stood like that for a while, until Ember got tired and decided to take a nap. Reid gave her a quick kiss and told her Sherry would be back soon, and then left her alone to sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  ** Ember **

  “Okay. You said you could help me with my powers. I’m here, so start teaching.” Ember stood with Owen at the door of his room in the visitors’ dorm – her mother had gladly pointed out which room was his. Typical. If she’d been caught anywhere near Reid’s room, she would have been dragged away by her ears and given a lecture for the millionth time.

  “We should probably go outside, just in case. We’ll go to your tree.” Owen grinned that annoyingly adorable smile, and closed his door behind him.

  “Fine.”

  *

  It was chilly and damp outside, but the air smelled distinctly of autumn: fresh and crisp and bright. Like the falling leaves that swirled on the ground and on the branches. Ember led Owen out to her tree, grateful of the soothing presence of the swaying branches and strong trunks.

  “Okay, here we are. Now teach me.” Ember paused with her hand on her tree and turned to Owen.

  “What do you want to learn to control first? Do you know what your powers are?” He stood a few feet away, looking oddly…familiar. Here, among the bold trees, he looked so much like the little boy she used to know. It was like she was seeing him through an ageless fog.

  “All I know is that things rattle or crack when I get angry. Let’s just work on that and figure out what else I can do later.” Ember smiled inwardly, watching the boyish grin spread on Owen’s mouth. Maybe he was right about them not being strangers. He knew her, probably as well as she knew herself, if not better at this point. And although she barely knew him anymore, she still knew the boy he should be. The boy he used to be. What if their friendship hadn’t changed, despite the test of time apart?

  “Well, in that case, you’ll
have to get angry. There’s not much out here to shake, but I suspect we’ll see some interesting results. Once we’ve got some reaction to your anger, we’ll work on controlling it.” Okay, so he wasn’t the Owen she used to know exactly. He was surer of himself. Not the shy, cute kid who used to follow her around like a puppy, but not the arrogant, harsh kid who pushed her away. He was just confident in himself – and he certainly wasn’t a kid anymore.

  “So how do I get angry?” Ember puzzled it out to herself mainly, looking around her. Surrounded by beautiful amber-leaved trees, and the cool air of an autumn breeze, how could she be angry? This was the place she came to calm down when she was angry or upset usually. And there was nothing here to annoy her…except him.

  “Well, I guess I’ll have to risk my face and do something to make you angry.” Owen’s amethyst eyes gleamed with either excitement…or stupidity. Quite possibly both.

  “Like what?” she asked cautiously, her eyes flicking to catch the measured step forward he took.

  “Mm, there’s only one thing I can do out here that’s sure to annoy you. Just remember it is necessary, and put your anger into your magic, not your fists.” Owen took another step and Ember tried to read his intentions in his expression. But it seemed he’d gotten very good at hiding his thoughts behind a mask of unbreakable politeness. It wasn’t until he was just one step away from her that she caught a glimmer of his plan twitching the corners of his mouth into a secretive smile. Ember opened her mouth to protest, putting a hand out, flat against his chest to keep him back, but he was fast and strong. He slid an arm round her waist, pulling her tightly to him, and brought his mouth down on hers before she could say a word.