glass to him with a straw, her lined face filled with concern. I continued my pleas as he drank.
“Tell us what your deal is,” I begged. “What’s the arrangement? What’s he giving you for your blood?” When Clarence remained silent, I tried another tactic. “People are being hurt. He’s giving out your blood indiscriminately.”
That got a reaction. “No,” said Clarence. “He’s using my blood and saliva to heal people. To heal sick humans.” Saliva? I nearly groaned. Of course. The mysterious clear liquid. Now I knew what gave the celestial tattoos their addictive high. Gross.
Adrian and I exchanged glances. Healing certainly was a use for vampire blood. The tattoo I wore was proof of that, and the Alchemists had worked long trying to duplicate some of the blood’s properties for wider medicinal use. So far, there was no way to synthetically reproduce it, and using real blood simply wasn’t practical.
“He lied,” I replied. “He’s selling it to rich teenagers to help them with sports. What did he promise you for it? A cut of the money?”
Adrian glanced around the opulent room. “He doesn’t need money. The only thing he needs is what the guardians wouldn’t give him. Justice for Tamara, right?”
Surprised, I turned back to Clarence and saw Adrian’s words confirmed on the old Moroi’s face. “He . . . he’s been investigating the vampire hunters for me,” he said slowly. “He says he’s close. Close to finding them out.”
I shook my head, wanting to kick myself for not having figured out sooner that Clarence was the blood source. It explained why Keith was always unexpectedly here—and why he got so upset when I showed up without warning. My “fraternizing with vampires” had had nothing to do with it. “Sir, I guarantee the only thing he’s investigating is how to spend the money he’s been making.”
“No . . . no . . . he’s going to help me find the hunters who killed Tamara . . .”
I stood up. I couldn’t stand to hear any more. “Get him some real food, and see what he’ll eat,” I told Dorothy. “If he’s only weak from blood loss, he just needs time.”
I nodded for Adrian to follow me out. As we walked toward the living room, I remarked, “Well, there are good and bad sides to this. At least we can be confident Keith’s got a fresh supply of blood for us to bust him with. I’m just sorry Clarence had to get hit so—”
I froze as I entered the living room. I’d simply wanted to go there because it would be a familiar place to discuss our plans, one that was less creepy than Clarence’s bedroom. Considering how my imagination often ran wild while I was in this old house, I’d found that few things came as a surprise. But never in my wildest dreams had I imagined the living room would be transformed into an art gallery.
Easels and canvas were set up all around the room. Even the pool table was covered by a big roll of paper. The pictures varied wildly in their content. Some simply had splashes of color thrown on them. Some possessed astonishingly realistic depictions of objects and people. An assortment of watercolors and oil paints sat around amidst the art.
For a moment, all thoughts of Clarence and Keith disappeared from my head. “What is this?”
“Homework,” Adrian said.
“Didn’t you . . . didn’t you just
He walked over to a canvas showing a swirling red line traced over a black cloud and lightly tested to see if the paint was dry. Studying it, I tried to decide if I really was seeing a cloud. There was almost something anthropomorphic about it.
“Of course they didn’t give us this much, Sage. But I had to make sure I nailed my first assignment. Takes a lot of tries before you hit perfection.” He paused to reconsider that. “Well, except for my parents. They got it on the first try.”
I couldn’t help a smile. After watching Adrian’s moods oscillate so wildly in the last couple weeks, it was nice to see them on the upswing. “Well, this is kind of amazing,” I admitted. “What are they? I mean, I get that one.” I pointed to a painting of a woman’s eye, brown and long-lashed, and then to another one of roses. “But the others are open to, um, slightly more creative interpretation.”
“Are they?” asked Adrian, turning back to the smoky painting with the red streak. “I figured it was obvious. This one is
I shrugged. “Maybe I don’t have an artistic enough mind.”
“Maybe,” he agreed. “Once we bust your buddy Keith, we’ll discuss my genius art all you want.”
“Right,” I said, growing serious again. “We need to search his place for evidence. I figured the best way to do that is if I lure him out and you break in while he’s gone. To get through the lock—”
Adrian waved me off. “I can pick a lock. How do you think I got into my parents’ liquor cabinet in middle school?”
“Should’ve guessed,” I said dryly. “Make sure you look everywhere, not just in obvious places. He could have compartments hidden in the walls or in furniture. You want to find vials of blood or metallic liquid or even the tool that pierced Clarence.”
“Got it.” We hashed out a few more details—including who he should call when he found something—and were about to leave when he asked, “Sage, why’d you pick me to be your partner in crime in this?”
I thought about it. “Process of elimination, I guess. Jill’s supposed to be kept out of trouble. Eddie’d be a good asset, but he needed to go back with her and Lee. Besides, I already knew you didn’t have any moral qualms about breaking and entering.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he declared with a grin.
We headed out to Keith’s after that. All the lights were on in the first floor of his building, dashing a last- minute hope I’d had that maybe I wouldn’t have to lure him out. I would’ve actually liked to help with the search. I dropped Adrian off and then drove to a twenty-four-hour restaurant that was outside the opposite side of town. I figured it would be perfect for keeping Keith away from his home. The driving time alone would provide Adrian with extra searching time, though it meant Adrian had to wait outside for a while until Keith left. Once I finally arrived, I got a table, ordered coffee, and dialed Keith’s number.
“Hello?”
“Keith, it’s me. I need to talk to you.”
“So talk,” he said. He sounded smug and confident, no doubt happy at pulling off the last-minute tattoo sale.
“Not on the phone. I need you to meet me.”
“At Amberwood?” he asked in surprise. “Isn’t it after hours?” It was indeed, but that was a problem for later.
“I’m not at school. I’m at Margaret’s Diner, that place out by the highway.”
Long silence. Then: “Well, if you’re already out past curfew, then just come here.”
“No,” I said firmly. “You come to me.”
“Why should I?”
I hesitated only briefly before playing the card I knew would get him, the one thing that would make him drive out here and
“It’s about Carly.”
“What about her?” he asked after a moment’s pause.
“You know exactly what.”
After a second’s pause, Keith relented and hung up. I noticed that I had a voice mail from earlier in the day that I hadn’t heard come in. I called and listened.
“Sydney, this is Wes Regan from Carlton College. Just wanted to go over a couple things with you. First, I’m afraid I have some bad news. It doesn’t look like I’m going to be able to retroactively admit your brother from auditor status. I can enroll him next semester for sure if he stays in good standing, but the only way he can keep taking classes now is if he continues to do so as an auditor. He won’t be able to get financial aid as a result, and in fact, you’ll actually need to pay the auditing fee soon if he’s going to stay in the classes. If he wants to drop altogether, we can do that too. Just call me and let me know what you’d like to do.”
I stared at the phone in dismay when the message was over. There went our dreams of sliding Adrian into fully enrolled student status, not to mention his dreams of getting financial aid and moving out of Clarence’s. The next semester probably started in January, so Adrian was facing four more months at Clarence’s. Adrian would also
