Book of Revenge by Abra Ebner Page A

Jake, then back again. I was having a hard time believing what I saw. His teeth hadn’t been all that different, but the two K-9’s were noticeably sharper, more like a dog. I’ll admit that the term werewolf had also crossed my mind. I would have settled with either explanation. The bottom line was that his teeth were different enough to warrant the fake teeth, at least. His eyes, though, that was the kicker. It was as though I was staring at a cat in the night, the darkness inside the car adding to the effect. If he hadn’t used the term vampire , I would have perhaps thought of a hundred other things first.
    He shifted out of reverse and into drive. I reached for the handle of the door, thinking tuck-and-roll, but my hand went no further.
    I knew Jake knew what I was thinking, but he ignored it, trying to act casual instead. “In class today, remember how I mentioned the rabies in South America during the invasion of the Conquistadors?”
    I nodded, timidly pulling my hand back and forcing it into my lap.
    “That’s where this…” he motioned to himself—the teeth, the eyes, “…really comes from.”
    I swallowed hard, mouth dry. “South America…” I said it like a statement rather than a question.
    “Yep, hence my last name, Santé. It’s like saint, but all scrambled up.”
    I swallowed hard—a saint of Hell perhaps.
    Jake heard my thoughts and laughed.
    I began to think about blood, more specifically my blood, and how I wanted to keep it.
    Jake bit his lip suggestively. “Go ahead, ask.”
    I felt so little beside him. “ D —Do…”
    He licked his tongue across his lip. “Go on.”
    “Do you drink… blood?”
    He laughed again, so thrown by the delight I was providing him. “I do, but not human blood.” He was looking at the white of my hands as I furiously grasped the seat. “So chill out. That stuff is way too salty, not to mention thick, fatty, and just plain gross. Unfortunately, some who get this disease tend to loose their heads, so I can’t say there aren’t some vampires out there that drink human blood. I’m sure there are.” He shuddered, noticeably disgusted by the idea.
    I thought about my Anne Rice books.
    “Think of it this way: you get the rabies and your whole body changes.” He was swirling his hand through the air as though he was conducting an orchestra.
    “Do you live forever?”
    He chuckled. “Definitely not. You’ve seen me grow up, right? Clearly immortality is not for me. It was books and fantasy that got that rumor started. Dracula’s a joke.”
    “And the eyes?”
    “Man’s got to hunt.”
    I kept throwing out questions, surprised to find myself relaxing now that I knew I wasn’t his next meal. “Are you… dead? Like Max?”
    His laughter once again echoed through the tiny car. “Certainly not. Feel my forehead.”
    I did as I was told, placing the back of my shaking hand against his forehead—he was burning up, explaining the heat I’d felt when he grabbed me earlier. “You have a fever,” I gasped.
    He nodded. “ Really? I didn’t notice.” He winked.
    I huffed angrily.
    He went on. “I’ve been running a temperature of a hundred-and-four since I was a toddler. It’s a great way to get out of school when you want to.”
    I tried to see him as he was in grade school, but all I saw was a wobbly little geek, not the Jake in front of me. “So, how did it happen?”
    Jake shrugged. “I was an orphan when I got bit.”
    “What bit you?”
    He gave me a look that suggested he knew I was smarter than that question. “Another vampire. Come on, Emily, you’re better than that.”
    My brows stitched together. “But I thought you said vampires didn’t really drink human blood unless they’re crazy?”
    He scratched his forehead, growing impatient. “They don’t. I was groomed to be a vampire—chosen. You see, because of the change in our genetic code, we’re sort of like mules—we can’t reproduce.” He laughed to himself. “My