Pitch

to it. Tomorrow I was going to make it a top priority.

The boy stepped neatly over my legs and knelt down beside me, balancing on the balls of his feet. “My name is Maximus,” he said.

Giving up on the chair, I collapsed on my side and blew a strand of hair out of my face. “Maximus, huh? That’s almost as bad as Lola.”

“Sorrow,” he said cryptically.

“What?”

“That is what Lola means. Sorrow. Or sorrows plural, depending on the quality of the translation.”

My nose wrinkled. “That’s a weird thing to know.”

Maximus rocked back on his heels and stood up. He offered me his hand and I took it without thinking. Only when I was on my feet and he refused to relinquish his grip on my fingers did I realize what he had done. Sneaky bastard.

He examined my new scars intently, pulling my hand so close to his face that for one crazy, breath stopping moment I thought he was going to kiss the small silver half moons. Until with a mutter of disgust he dropped my hand as if it was something vile and wiped his palms vigorously on the sides of his jeans.

“You’re infected,” he spat.

I studied my hand again. “No,” I said slowly, shaking my head. “I’m not. I don’t know how it healed up so quickly but -”

“Your blood is infected. That’s why you can’t feel pain. Why you can’t feel that cut on your leg. Who bit you?” he asked, taking a menacing step forward and crowding me back against the desk. When my calves bumped into the metal drawers, leaving me with no where else to run, Maximus barricaded me in with his arms and leaned forward until our faces were inches apart, so close I could see my reflection in his pupils. I looked terrified.

“Who bit you, Lola?” he said softly. “I need to know.”

My lower lip quivered. “I – I don’t know what you’re talking about. No one bit me. Not for – not for real. This is all some kind of stupid joke and it’s not funny anymore. I want it to stop. Right now.”

His fingers curled around my wrists, pinning me in place. Little pulses of heat began to radiate up my arm and I shivered even though I was the furthest thing from cold.

“This is not make-believe,” Maximus whispered. “This is not pretend. The monsters are real and they are here and they are not leaving. Do you understand?”

I didn’t want to understand. To understand would mean to accept. To accept that Travis was in very real danger, if not worse. To accept that the woman I had seen covered in blood was really dead. To accept that the girl who had bitten me was more than a very skilled, very scary actress paid to play a horrible prank.

“Angelique.” My shoulders slumped. “She said her name was Angelique.”

“Angelique,” Maximus repeated. He made it sound like a foul curse word. “I should have known.” He released my wrists to bang his palms hard against the desk, making me jump. Muttering something I couldn’t quite hear he turned away and began to pace up and down the length of the tiny unit. His shadow was enormous on the opposite wall. It moved sinuously, rippling across the stacked furniture and unlabeled boxes like something alive.

Taking in a deep breath to soothe my understandably frazzled nerves, I hopped back up on the edge of the desk and crossed my arms tight across my chest. It was time for some answers and some action. We couldn’t stay in here forever. I couldn’t stay in here forever. Not when my dad and Travis were out there… somewhere.

“Sooo,” I said, stretching the word out while I tried to process my jumbled thoughts. “How do you, like, know so much about what is going on?”

“If you are going to waste time asking questions you might as well ask ones worth asking.”

“My teacher said there is no such thing as a stupid question,” I said, barely managing to restrain myself from sticking my tongue out at him.

Maximus released a short bark of laughter. “Your teacher,” he said as he pivoted to face me, “is an idiot.”

Okay, so he wasn’t too far off there. “Fine. Here’s a question for you. What – exactly – are those things out there?”

“Back to this again so soon? Come on, Lola. You have to be smarter than this if you survived an attack. Dazzle me with your genius.”

“They can’t be vampires. They can’t,” I insisted when he just stood there staring at me. “That’s impossible.”

“Going back in time is impossible. Turning invisible is impossible. Balancing the national debt is impossible. Blood sucking creatures that have been documented since the beginning of time across the entire world? Not impossible.”

“Next you’ll be telling me they sparkle in the daylight.”

“No,” he said, giving me his first real smile. “Never that.”

I didn’t like what that slow, curving smile did to my insides. Now is not a good time to crush on some strange boy you hardly know, my practical side scolded. But so hot… Blue eyes… Hair… Smile… Gah gah…, my inner girly girl sighed. “So you’re really telling me those are vampires out there,” I said, telling the girly girl to take a hike.

“They prefer to be called Drinkers, but yes.”

My eyes widened. “Ohmygod. Angelique bit me. She BIT me. Am I going to turn into one of them? Am I going to -”

“No, no, and no,” he said, cutting me off. “I said you were infected. I didn’t say you were changed. Use your head, Lola.” He tapped the side of his temple and scowled. “Pay attention. I do not like repeating myself. Angelique marked you. Your blood went into her, became a part of her, which means she will be able to sense you even from a far distance. Even now she could be tracking you. Hunting you.”

“What? But how…” I shook my head, trying to take it all in. “There has to be a way to stop her though, right? I mean, she can’t find me. I can’t let her find me.” The words came out in a frantic rush as I recalled the burning pain. The choking fear. The certainty of death. I could not go through that again. I would not.

Maximus closed the distance between us in one long stride and took my hands in his. He squeezed my fingers and I squeezed back, managing to find a quiet sense of reassurance in his touch. “Stop it,” he said softly, giving me a little shake. His eyes searched mine, probing deep into places I never let anyone look. Places I never looked. “You can’t afford to panic. You can’t be afraid. Not now, not ever again. The Drinkers feed on blood and weakness. You have already given them a taste of the first, do not let them have the second.”

“But you said Angelique could-”

The knife silenced me. Maximus drew it out of thin air, or so it seemed. The long blade glinted in the dim light. His left hand, still holding mine, tightened like a manacle clicking into place when I tried to pull away. I swallowed hard.

“What are you doing? Put that down before you hurt someone.” Before you hurt me.

“There are two ways to get rid of those scars. Kill the Drinker who bit you… Or cut them from the flesh.”

“Cut them from the flesh?” I echoed in a strangled voice that didn’t sound like my own. “Are you crazy? I’m not letting you come near me with that knife!”

Seconds ticked by, each one longer than the last. I held my breath, waiting to see what Maximus would do. Finally, with a little shrug, he released my hand and tucked the knife back into his belt.