Bloodlines

Page 40

"I thought Moroi weren't good at fighting, though," said Keith.

"Mostly because they haven't trained for it. They aren't as strong as us, sure, but their reflexes are better than yours," explained Eddie. "It's just a matter of learning the skills and having a good teacher."

"Like you?" I teased.

"I'm not bad," he said modestly. "I can train anyone who wants to learn." He elbowed Adrian, who was reaching for the wine and a refill. "Even this guy."

"No, thank you," said Adrian. "These hands don't sully themselves with fighting."

"Or with manual labor," I remarked, recalling past comments of his.

"Exactly," he said. "But maybe you should have Castile show you how to throw a punch, Sage. It might come in handy. Seems like a skill a plucky young woman like yourself should possess."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I'm not really sure when I'd need it," I said.

"Of course she needs to learn!"

Clarence's exclamation caught all of us by surprise. I'd actually thought he was dozing off since he'd had his eyes closed moments ago. But now, he was leaning forward with a zealous expression. I cringed under the intensity of his stare.

"You must learn to protect yourself!" He pointed at me, then moved on to Jill. "And you. Promise me you'll learn to defend yourself. Promise me." Jill's light green eyes went wide with shock. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, though it was tinged with uneasiness.

"Of course, Mr. Donahue. I'm trying to. And until then, I've got Eddie to protect me from Strigoi."

"Not Strigoi!" His voice dropped to a whisper. "The vampire hunters."

None of us said anything. Lee looked mortified.

Clarence squeezed his wineglass so tightly that I worried it would break. "No one talked about this back then - about defending ourselves. Maybe if Tamara had learned something, she wouldn't have been killed. It's not too late for you - for either of you."

"Dad, we've been over this," said Lee.

Clarence ignored him. The old man's gaze flicked between me and Jill, and I wondered if he even knew I was human. Or maybe it didn't matter. Maybe he just had a slightly deranged protective instinct toward all girls the same age as Tamara. I kind of expected Keith to tactlessly point out that there were no such things as vampire hunters, but he was uncharacteristically quiet. Eddie was the one who finally spoke, his words soothing and kind. He so often gave off the impression of a do-or-die warrior that it was surprising to realize he was actually very compassionate.

"Don't worry," said Eddie. "I'll help them. I'll keep them safe and make sure nothing bad happens to them, okay?"

Clarence still looked agitated but focused on Eddie hopefully. "You promise? You won't let them kill Tamara again?"

"I promise," said Eddie, in no way indicating how weird the request was.

Clarence studied Eddie a few more seconds and then nodded. "You're a good boy." He reached for the wine bottle and topped off his glass. "More?" he asked Adrian, as though nothing had happened.

"Yes, please," said Adrian, holding out his glass.

We continued the conversation as though nothing had happened, but the shadow of Clarence's words continued to hang over me.

Chapter Twelve

WHEN WE LEFT on our group date or family outing or whatever it was, Lee couldn't stop apologizing for his father.

"I'm sorry," he said, slumping miserably in the backseat of Latte. "There's no reasoning with him anymore. We tried to tell him that Tamara was killed by Strigoi, but he won't believe it. He doesn't want to. He can't take revenge on a Strigoi. They're immortal. Invincible. But some human vampire hunter? Somehow, in his head, that's something he can go after. And if he can't, then he can focus his energy on how the guardians won't go after these nonexistent vampire hunters."

I just barely heard Eddie mutter, "Strigoi aren't that invincible."

In the rearview mirror, I saw Jill's face filled with compassion. She was seated between Lee and Eddie. "Even if it's a fantasy, maybe it's better this way," she suggested. "It gives him comfort. I mean, kind of. Having something tangible to hate is what gets him through. Otherwise he'd just give in to despair. He's not hurting anyone with his theories. I think he's sweet." She caught her breath in that way she did when she'd said a whole lot all at once. My eyes were back on the road, but I could swear Lee was smiling. "That's nice of you," he told her. "I know he likes having you around. Turn right up here."

That was to me. Lee had been giving me directions ever since we left Clarence's. We were just outside of Palm Springs proper, nearing the very impressive-looking Desert Gods Golf Course and Resort. Further guidance from him led us to the Mega-Fun Mini-Golf Center, which was adjacent to the resort. I searched for a parking spot and heard Jill gasp when she caught sight of the golf course's crowning glory. There, in the center of a cluster of gaudily decorated putting greens, was a huge fake mountain with an artificial waterfall spouting from its top.

"A waterfall!" she exclaimed. "It's amazing."

"Well," said Lee, "I wouldn't go that far. It's made of water that's been pumped over and over and has God only knows what in it. I mean, I wouldn't try to drink or swim in it."

Before I even had the car to a stop, Adrian was out the door, lighting a cigarette. We'd gotten in an argument on the way over, despite me telling him three times that Latte was a strictly no-smoking car. The rest of us soon got out as well, and I wondered what I'd signed up for here as we strolled toward the entrance.

"I've actually never been mini-golfing," I remarked.

Lee came to a halt and stared. "Never?"

"Never."

"How does that happen?" asked Adrian. "How is it possible that you've never played mini-golf?"

"I had kind of an unusual childhood," I said at last.

Even Eddie looked incredulous. "You? I was practically raised at an isolated school in the middle of nowhere Montana, and even I've played mini-golf." Saying I was homeschooled was no excuse this time, so I just let it go. Really, it just came down to having a childhood more focused on chemical equations than on fun and recreation.

Once we started playing, I soon got the hang of it. My first few attempts were pretty bad, but I soon understood the weight of the club and how the angles on each course could be maneuvered. From there, it was pretty simple to calculate distance and force to make accurate shots.

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