Kristin Cast Page 4

  “And to make it more challenging,” Jared announced, “we’re going to randomly assign teams. Each person on the winning team gets one night in the suite.”

  This was met with a mix of cheers and groans. Emma was one of the groaners until Jared drew her name along with a friend of hers named Fiona. Emma lit up and kissed Eric on the cheek. “Okay. We’ve got this. You and me are gonna be in that Jacuzzi tonight.” She scurried off to join Fiona.

  Jared continued pulling out names from his hat, finally reaching, “Eric Dragomir.”

  In spite of his best efforts to ignore it, Eric couldn’t help but notice the excited whispering among some of the gathered girls. They knew he and Emma weren’t engaged yet, so some still considered him open game. Even a few guys looked interested in being paired with Eric, in the hopes of currying favor with his family.

  Jared read the next name. “Rhea Daniels.”

  Eric froze.

  He’d spotted Rhea as soon as he’d come outside earlier. She was standing with Stephen on the far side of the lagoon, seeming to be in a good mood. She and her fiancé had been having some kind of serious talk—not like a depressing talk, but just something warm and ordinary. Stephen had done most of the talking, his pleasant face earnest and thoughtful while she simply listened. The sun hadn’t quite gone down yet, and its rays made her hair shine like gold fire. Eric couldn’t look away from it and jealously wondered what they’d had to talk about.

  Now, hearing her name, Rhea became puzzled and scanned the crowd. Stephen nudged her and pointed over at Eric. Her gaze fell on him, and her eyes widened in shock. For a moment, he was confused. If she was going to be shocked, it should have been when she heard their names called—not when she saw him. Then he understood. Rhea really didn’t know who he was. He’d suspected it that night on the yacht but had thought that surely she’d have learned since then. Apparently not.

  Stephen grinned and motioned for her to go over to Eric. Biting her lip, she reluctantly walked over, looking as though each step was agony. Glancing back to where Emma stood by Fiona, Eric thought his girlfriend looked as though each of Rhea’s steps was agony for her, too.

  Eric and Rhea said nothing to each other as more names were read off. They didn’t even speak when they were given their clue. As the rest of the group eagerly dispersed, Eric looked down at their slip of paper.

  Find me where the palm trees bend

  By the water that never ends.

  He stared at it blankly, having no idea what it meant. Rhea sighed and took the clue from him.

  “It’s a fountain,” she said. “I saw it last night. There’s a little path that goes out past the courtyard.”

  She marched away from him, and he hurried to keep up. Wordlessly she led him to the fountain. Delicate and made of marble, it was crowned with swans that poured water from their mouths. Eric couldn’t decide if it was tacky or elegant. He and Rhea studied it for a while, trying to figure out what the next step was. Eric was the one who spotted it. A small piece of smooth, flat wood was embedded into a tiny gap in the sculpture. Words were engraved upon it.

  Music, music everywhere

  With sweeping sights that make you stare.

  “The conservatory,” said Rhea promptly. “It’s on the upper floor.”

  Again, she took off, with Eric quickening his pace to stay with her. “Have you been here before? How do you know where everything is?”

  “I went exploring last night,” she explained tersely. It was clear she wasn’t in the mood for conversation. At least not with him.

  Sure enough, they reached the conservatory, which was filled with windows showing breathtaking views of the ocean. Another team was just leaving, uncertain if they’d read the clue correctly. Everyone’s starting clue had sent them to a random place, and the goal was to eventually put them all together. The conservatory’s clue was hidden on the piano. Like before, Rhea interpreted it and started to leave, but Eric grabbed her arm.

  “Wait, I need to talk to you.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Talk about what?”

  He sighed. “Look, I just want to know why you’re so mad at me today. What did I do this time? I already told you I wasn’t making fun of you and Stephen last night.”

  Rhea studied him for several seconds, and he wondered if she’d just turn around and leave. Instead she answered his question with a question. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a Dragomir?”

  He hadn’t expected that. “It…didn’t seem important. And I thought you probably knew.”

  “Right. Because how could there be anyone in the world who doesn’t know who you are?” she asked sarcastically.

  “I’m serious! And I…well, I kind of liked you not knowing. You talked to me like a real person…even if it was to yell at me most of the time.”

  “I didn’t yell,” she countered. “And somehow, I don’t believe you just wanted to talk to me. I’ve heard about you. You go through lots of girls. You probably thought I’d be an easy one, desperate to hook up with as much royalty as I can.”

  Eric gaped, wondering just what kind of reputation he had. It was true that he’d had a lot of girlfriends. But he’d never used them. He’d genuinely liked each of them, and he had intended to take his dad’s advice and get serious, but then…well, Eric just always lost interest.

  “That’s not true at all! I like being with you because you’re easy to talk to.”

  Rhea scoffed. “I thought you just said I yelled at you all the time.”

  “Well, that’s not what I—I mean, that is, I like that you pay attention.”

  “Pay attention?” she asked warily.

  “You notice things. You notice people—and you get people. You’re the only one who thought about the massacre six months ago, you know. That’s where my mother died.”

  She blanched, and all that annoyance and anger vanished. “Oh God, I’m sorry—”

  He held up a hand. “I know you are. That’s the thing. I’ve never met anyone who thinks about those things. You think about the servants. About that crazy feeder. I mean, don’t get me wrong—a lot of these people are really nice. But there’s something real about you. Something different. And that’s why you’re with Stephen, isn’t it? I watched you guys earlier. You notice parts of him that no one else does, and he needs that. No one else cares about him that way.” Eric paused, bracing himself for the next part. “But here’s the thing, does anyone care about you? Who worries about you or asks how you feel?”

  Rhea averted her eyes, which he thought was a damn shame. He could easily lose himself in them. “Plenty of people do,” she said evasively. But he knew even she didn’t believe that. She was quiet and went unnoticed, giving her energy to others and no doubt letting her parents urge her into a marriage that would save her from the disgrace they’d faced. Stephen, silly as he might seem, did care about her. That much was obvious. He was dependent on her to listen to what he was afraid to tell others. Eric doubted Stephen returned the favor.

  “Not enough people do,” Eric replied. “Somehow I just…know. I can see it all over you. You don’t let people worry about you enough.”

  And then, doing what was probably one of the stupidest things ever, he pulled her to him and kissed her. He fully expected her to jerk away or maybe even punch or kick him. Instead she pressed closer, kissing him with an intensity that surpassed his own. He was the one who broke the kiss, suddenly conscious of their situation.

  “Oh God,” she breathed, face full of confusion. “I shouldn’t have—I don’t—”

  “We should talk more,” he said, wanting badly to kiss her again. What was happening to him? How had this situation spun out of control so quickly with someone he barely knew? “But not here. People will be coming through. Will you meet me later? Say at…eleven? Back by the fountain? The game’ll be over.”

  “I don’t know….” But he could see in her eyes that she would.

  “Eleven,” he repeated.

  At last, sh
e nodded. Ecstatic, he kissed her one more time, wanting to leave on a high note. As he did, he heard a familiar voice call, “Hey, it’s over here!”

  He hastily pulled away, but it was too late. Emma stood in the doorway. A few moments later, a breathless Fiona joined her. Emma, Eric, and Rhea stood frozen and stunned. Fiona, who had missed the incident, looked confused.

  Then, without a word, Emma turned and ran off. Eric’s heart sank, and he remained motionless. It was Rhea—still always compassionate about others—who spurred him to action. She nudged him. “Go talk to her. She needs you. Forget the game.”

  He hesitated, not wanting to leave Rhea, but he knew she was right. Eric wasn’t sure what was going on, what he felt for Rhea, but he owed Emma an explanation.

  He hurried out of the room, past a still confused Fiona, just barely hearing her say to Rhea, “So, wait. Are we partners now?”

  Emma had been fast. She was nowhere in sight, so he went to the most logical place he could think of: her room. He stood outside knocking for five minutes, but no answer came. She could have been ignoring him or simply hiding somewhere else.

  Dejected, he returned to his room, unwilling to face anyone else. He spent the rest of the day lying on his bed, counting the minutes until eleven. Over and over, he thought about Emma and Rhea, coming to a final conclusion. He liked Emma a lot—but he didn’t love her. He didn’t love Rhea, either—but there was something about her that made him want to get to know her better, some electricity he felt in her presence. He couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she wasn’t just another girl on his list.

  Around ten, he made another attempt to find Emma—and failed. The game had long since ended, and everyone was too excited about it and that night’s party to pay much attention to him. So he headed to the fountain to wait for Rhea, hoping to figure out at least one part of this mess. At eleven exactly, he sat on the ground next to the swans and waited.

  And waited. And waited.

  Almost an hour went by with no sign of her. Sad realization hit him. She’d changed her mind. Really, he should have expected it. She was engaged to someone else, and Eric was an idiot to interfere with that. Dejected and embarrassed, he finally returned to the house, where he found Stephen sitting by the pool and drinking with friends from their school.

  Eric—figuring Rhea had told her fiancé all about being assaulted in the conservatory—expected Stephen to attack him. Instead the other guy offered a friendly smile. “You want to join us, Dragomir?”

  Eric swallowed and shook his head. Rhea had apparently kept earlier events secret. “Nah, got stuff to do. Um, hey, have you seen Rhea? I just wanted to congratulate her on us failing miserably.”

  Stephen laughed. “Doesn’t surprise me. But no, not sure where she went.”

  It didn’t surprise him? Rhea was so smart. She could have won that game, and Stephen had no clue. Eric kept his thoughts to himself and went inside, asking around to find out where Rhea’s room was. Someone gave him the location, and bracing himself for more rejection, he knocked on the door. The doorknob turned—but it wasn’t Rhea.

  It was her roommate, who said she hadn’t seen Rhea since breakfast. An uneasy feeling bubbled up in Eric, though he didn’t know why. Emma had disappeared too, but he wasn’t worried about her. No doubt she was sequestered with friends. But Rhea? What about her?

  He spent the rest of the night anxiously trying to get information about either girl and failing. The partying started up again, and he finally caught a glimpse of Emma in the crowd. She made eye contact and then pointedly ignored him. He let her be, glad he’d found one of them and that his instincts had been right. She was okay. Mad, but okay. Hating to bug Stephen again, Eric still forced himself to casually inquire about Rhea once more, saying he’d never caught up with her.

  “She’s around,” Stephen replied easily. “Sometimes she just likes to be by herself. She’ll turn up.”

  Eric wasn’t so sure. His sense of worry was growing, and he wished he could convince Stephen to share in it. Eric finally decided he’d try Rhea’s room one more time—but never got there. He was stopped when two guardians came charging out of the house.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked them. Panic flooded him. “It’s not—it’s not Strigoi…?” Eric couldn’t face that again.

  “Hardly,” said one of the guys, sighing. He looked fierce like all guardians—but also annoyed. “We’ve got a runaway feeder. He can’t get off the island, but with the way they are, he’ll probably fall off a cliff and drown. Mr. Zeklos would never let us hear the end of it.”

  They pushed past Eric, leaving him wide eyed. Suddenly he knew where Rhea was.

  Six

  Rhea wasn’t sure how it had happened—probably because she’d been unconscious for most of it.

  One minute she’d been leaving the feeding room, about to head down the hall and meet Eric at the fountain, even though she figured it would turn out to be the most idiotic thing she’d ever done. He probably wouldn’t even show. The next minute she’d heard a commotion from inside the feeding room and a strangled cry of surprise. Then Dennis had burst out of the room, wild eyed, and everything had gone black.

  She’d woken up—with a headache—inside what appeared to be a cave. It was rocky and cramped, the uncomfortable ground only adding to her discomfort. At first, she could hardly make out anything, and then an opening in the stony walls became clearer. She could see the twinkling of stars—and a dark shape blocking some of them out.

  “Dennis?” she asked tentatively.

  The feeder turned around, a grin lighting his face at seeing her awake.

  “Rhea! I’m glad you’re up. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but we had to get you out, and I was afraid someone would hear you. Are you okay?” He reached for her, and she took a hasty step back.

  “Fine…fine…” She tried to stay calm and not betray the racing of her heart. “What’s going on? Why are we here?”

  “I’ve freed us,” he said. “It was so easy. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. They were all so busy.”

  Rhea tried to get a glimpse of what was outside the cave. More ocean and trees—but a different view than that of the Zeklos beach house. Recalling the cliffs on the other side of the island, she had a good idea of where they were.

  “Dennis,” she said gently, using the soothing tone she always did with him, “we need to go back. People will be worried.”

  He shook his head anxiously. “No, no. They’re oppressing us. Keeping us apart. Now we can be free. We’ll stay here for a while and then find a boat. We’ll run off together. Just you and me.”

  Rhea’s gut response was: You’re joking. But the crazed look in his eyes told her he was dead serious.

  “We can’t. We can’t live here. We can’t live back on the mainland.”

  “I’ll take care of us,” he said. “It’ll be easy. That’s what the pretty brown-haired girl said.”

  “The pretty—never mind. Look, it won’t work. We have to go back. Please.”

  Dennis was undaunted. “You can feed off me as much as you want. You don’t have to worry about getting enough blood.”

  “That’s…that’s not the problem,” she said.

  “What is?” His enraptured tone suddenly took a dark turn. The abrupt change in his facial expression made her cringe. “Don’t you want to be with me? Don’t you like me?”

  “Er, of course.” Rhea was desperately assessing her options. Part of her wondered if she could just charge past him. Judging by how the entire entrance was filled with sky, she had the uneasy feeling they were dangerously close to a cliff’s edge. “But I liked things the way they were. I…I thought you were happy.” Maybe playing his game would get her out of this.

  “We were being denied what we truly wanted. What we needed.” He moved closer, and this time, she couldn’t dodge. There simply wasn’t enough room. “They only let you feed once a day.”

  “That’s all I need.” Her back hit the j
agged wall. “It’s fine.”

  “No. I know you want more. I want more. I want it now.” He pushed his body against hers, wrapping his hands around her waist. She struggled against him, hating the way she touched him, but he was stronger. “Do it. Do it now. Drink.”

  He exposed his neck, and she just barely managed to shake her head. “No…”

  “Do it!” he cried, his voice blasting her ears. His hands gripped her tighter, painfully so. “Drink!”

  Terrified, Rhea consented, biting into his neck almost before she realized what she was doing. The blood tasted as sweet as ever, but she took no joy from it, not even when his hold on her loosened a little. Frantically, she wondered what she could do. What if she drank more than usual? What if she drank enough to incapacitate him? He might pass out. And yet…all the taboos and warnings came to her about feeding too much. She might accidentally kill him, turning herself into a Strigoi.

  He took the choice from her. With astonishing self-control, he broke away, his face radiant. “That was…amazing…,” he breathed. He looked completely ecstatic—and dangerous. “See? I can give you everything you need. I’ll take care of you, and—ah!”

  Something hit him in the back. Or, rather, someone. Eric Dragomir had crept into the cave, moving so quietly that neither Rhea nor Dennis had noticed. Glaring furiously, Dennis turned around and lashed out at Eric, slamming the Moroi into the wall. Rhea screamed. She would have expected Dennis to be mellow from the bite, but if anything he seemed supercharged, invincible in his high.

  Miraculously, Eric remained standing. He charged Dennis again, and the two became locked in a fierce hold that neither seemed to gain ground on. Each struggled to shove away the other or at least get a punch in. Every so often Eric would manage to push Dennis back, and then Dennis would push Eric forward. The problem was, Eric’s back was at the cave opening. If he was pushed too far, he’d stumble onto the cliff’s edge that Rhea suspected was right outside.