Kissing Skulls *Revised*

Chapter 20

“Yes,” Dustyn hissed.  “They risked exposure just to track you across the city—vampires don’t usually give chase unless there’s a reason.”

His words made me shudder.  They made sense—but whatever his theories were, I didn’t want to hear them.

I had had enough of vampire business to last me a lifetime, thank you very much. 

“Maybe they’re rouges?” Dave suggested.  He caught my puzzled frown and added, “vamps who shun the rules and order of their kind—like rebels.”

Rebel vampires.  That sounded like something straight out of an angsty horror movie.  For some reason, though, I couldn’t picture Alexi and Serenity as hell-raising anarchists.  

With their fancy clothes and mocking ways, they seemed more like two rich kids who ran away from home just to spite mommy and daddy than a pair of murderous vamps going on a killing spree downtown.

Though, on second thought—Alexi did seem  like the type to leave a bunch of bodies lying around in the midst of one of his temper tantrums. 

But anyone with a brain could figure out that Serenity kept a tight leash on him. 

“I don’t think so” I said, shaking my head.  “But…they did keep talking about someone else.”

I blinked to find Dustyn right in front of me.  His hands were heavy over my shoulders.  “Who?”

“Someone named…Demitri.”

I might as well of said the Boogeyman.  Dustyn paled.  I could feel Dave stiffen against me.  Even I felt cold, though I guessed it had more to do with the frosty glint in Dustyn’s gray eyes than anything else.

“Demitri?”  His voice was glacial.

“Y-yes…”  I bit my bottom lip, utterly confused. 

The heat in his tone startled me, and I didn’t like how tightly he was beginning to grip my arm.

With one firm yank, he pulled me out of Dave’s grasp, forcing his gaze into mine. 

“What did they say?”  He shook me, hard, when I didn’t answer fast enough.  “Did they say where he is?”

“Ow!” 

My shoulder throbbed in the force of his grip, and I reached up to touch the aching side of my throat before I could help it.  Wincing I pushed back the hair and began to rub the tender skin—it was only when I heard Dave gasp that I realized that I had made a major mistake.

“They bit you?” 

Dustyn swung me around by my collar before I could react.  His eyes were glued to the side of my neck, and the look on his face…

It was a look I knew that I never, ever wanted to see again.

“They bit you?”

“D-Dustyn—let me go.”  I tried to pull away, but he wasn’t having it.  His nails seemed to pierce through my sweatshirt and stab into my skin.  I cried out, before I could help it.

“Dustyn take it easy.”  Dave, as reasonable as tried to muscle his way in between us.  “It could just be a scratch—”

“That is not just a scratch.”  I had never heard Dustyn sound so cold in all the short time that I’d known him.  The sound of his voice turned my blood cold and I stumbled away from him—this time, he let me go and whirled on Dave instead. 

“Does that look like a scratch to you?”  He jabbed a finger brutally at my neck and I instinctively covered the marks of Alexi’s bite with my hand. 

“It’s okay.” Dave said, and I wondered how in the hell in managed to sound so calm.  Especially when Dustyn was giving him a glare that I was pretty sure could turn a person into solid ice.  He held out his hands as a sign of surrender.  “Hear me out…you said they were Stroggha, right?  To turn her, they’d have to give her their blood…”

A dark shadow crossed over Dustyn’s face like a curtain being drawn over it.  His gaze cut to me from around Dave, only this time he looked a little more like his father than the Dustyn I knew.

He looked frightening. 

“Did they, Mary?”  He asked quietly.  “Did they cut themselves?  Did they…make you drink anything?  Anything at all?”

Like blood.  I could tell that was what he wanted to say—even though he didn’t—and it sickened the shit out of me.

“Eeew, no!”  I squealed.   The thought was too disgusting to even consider.

Besides, thinking of the way Alexi had rinsed his mouth out a million times after a taste of me, I couldn’t imagine what the pompous vampire might taste like.

Spare me.

“Trust me Dustyn,” I added, as he looked skeptical.  “This is no big deal—the vampire didn’t even seem to think that I tasted good.  He choked,” I threw in for good measure.

If anything, that only made him look worse.  His mouth twisted into a horrible grimace, and for I moment I thought he might do something crazy.

Like yell and smash a fist through the wall. 

“Mary you have no idea—”

“Dustyn, just for once can we please not make every little thing into an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”  I was glaring, but I couldn’t help it.  “Please?  I’m fine.”

For the moment, I just wished I was telepathic; back off, I wanted to tell him.  

I didn’t want to think about the what ifs.  I did not want to go there…

Somehow though, he took the hint.

“Fine.”  His voice was frozen solid.  

The next moment pushed past me—bumping my shoulder hard—to stomp for the front door. 

“Dustyn!”  Dave followed him.  At the last minute, he reached for my wrist, dragging me along—but we were too late. 

The black door slammed shut as we reach the foyer, but not before Dustyn’s parting growl slipped from behind it, “Don’t follow me.”