Never Bite a Boy on the First Date. Tamara Summers

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СКАЧАТЬ that he was out in the hall, I could see his face, but that didn’t help because I’d never seen him before. He looked like he was my age, with coffee-coloured skin and close-cropped, curly black hair and a dancer’s body, which I mention only because his shirt was open and I could see his abs above his jeans, and these were definitely abs worth mentioning.

      I found myself thinking, Man, I hope he’s a vampire! Not that I knew anything about vampire-vampire dating, but it had to be less complicated than dating a human, right? Unless, of course, he’s the killer vampire. Hot or not, I don’t date murderers.

      “You startled me,” he said, with a hint of a smile. His voice matched his scent, sort of moody and layered, like he would have fit in perfectly as a saxophone player in an underground 1920s jazz club.

      “Uh, no,” I said. “You startled me.”

      “I did,” he said. “I apologise.” The unspoken question hung in the air between us. What the hell are you doing here? I would have asked, but I was trying to come up with a good answer myself. Plus I was a little distracted by how perfectly shaped his eyes were. If Michelangelo and Rembrandt and the top casting directors in Hollywood all got together to design the perfect face, they’d probably start with this guy’s eyes. It was kind of impossible not to gaze dreamily into them.

      “I’m Daniel,” he said.

      “I’m Kira,” I said, although in my daze I nearly slipped and told him my real name, from back when I was a human. “Do you go to school here?”

      And then he took my hands in his and helped me to my feet.

      Wait, let me go over that one more time.

      His long, elegant hands slid over mine, gripped my fingers gently, and lifted me up in such a smooth motion that I was standing before I’d even had time to recover from the softness and strength of his hands.

      Which is why I nearly missed his answer – but seriously, right then his hands seemed a lot more important than anything he could possibly say.

      “I’m new. Tomorrow’s my first day,” he said, and he let go of my hands. Which was disappointing, but it sure seemed like he’d held them a moment longer than necessary…hadn’t he?

      “Oh,” I said. “Tomorrow. Wow.” Yeah. There were many things about this situation that were short-circuiting my ability to form sentences.

      “Yes,” he said. “Not quite the welcome I was expecting.” He made a small gesture towards the window, which reminded us both that we were standing in the midst of a murder scene in the middle of the night. We stared at each other again for a long moment.

      I broke first. “Oh,” I said, like it had just occurred to me, “you must think it’s so weird that I’m here, don’t you?” Implied: Because I think it’s pretty weird that you’re here. I laughed nervously. “OK, this is going to sound crazy, but I…needed a book from my locker.”

      He cocked one elegant eyebrow at me. “A book?”

      “Yeah,” I said. “Shakespeare. Macbeth. Very gloomy. Lots of mu—” Don’t say murder! “ – umbling. Mumbling about…witches…and stuff. Have you read it?” Oh, that was suave. Clever and romantic, all in one fell swoop.

      “A long time ago,” he said with a half smile.

      “Well, we have a test tomorrow and I have to finish reading it, so I thought I’d get it now.” I trailed off lamely, wondering how much he had seen of me climbing through the window and searching the floor.

      “Oh,” he said. “Of course. I’d have thought they’d cancel any tests scheduled for tomorrow, but it’s always wise to be prepared.”

      “Yeah,” I said. “That’s me! Prepared.” For tests, yes. For strange, hot boys in moonlit hallways, not so much.

      There was another pause. Two could play this little game. I lifted an eyebrow at him.

      He laughed softly. “All right. I have a confession to make.”

      Score! Murder solved! Well, that was much easier than I’d expected. Wilhelm and Olympia would be so proud. Assuming I made it out of here alive. Well, you know, “alive”.

      “I heard about the murder,” Daniel said, gesturing again, “and I’m afraid I was curious. I thought I should know more about my new school. I like figuring things out myself…I guess you could say I’m an amateur detective.” He rubbed his head, looking convincingly sheepish. “Do you think I’m terribly strange now?”

      Yes, but don’t worry, the “terribly hot” part makes up for it. I couldn’t figure out whether he was lying. It sounded about as believable as my story – which is to say, not very.

      “No,” I lied. “I bet lots of other students would have done it if they could have figured out how to get in. Um…how did you get in?”

      “Through the boys’ locker room,” Daniel said, pointing down. “The lock was already broken, so I just walked in.”

       HMMMMMMMM.

      Possibility one: Daniel was lying, and he’d broken the lock himself to get in, which he could easily do if he were a vampire.

      Possibility two: some other vampire, possibly of the murderous variety, had broken the lock earlier this evening to come up here and revisit the crime scene, as I hear criminals do all the time.

      Possibility three: that’s how Tex got in last night – as did the vampire who killed him.

      “Isn’t that how you got in?” Daniel said innocently. “Um, yeah,” I said. “Of course. Lucky break for me.”

      He glanced at my hands. “So…where’s the book?”

      “I was just going to get it,” I said, trying to look all casual. He followed me down the hall and around the corner to my locker. I laughed awkwardly. “I guess I wanted to look at the crime scene too.”

      “A fellow investigator,” he said with that hint of a smile again.

      I rummaged through my messy locker until I found Macbeth. The clang of the door closing echoed way too loudly along the empty hall. Daniel and I both went really quiet for a moment, as if he was also listening to be sure we were alone in the school.

      “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered. He led the way to the nearest stairwell and we padded softly down to the bottom floor. I noticed that he didn’t seem hesitant about where to go – he led the way straight through the last door, turned left and headed right for the locker room. Either he had a good sense of direction or he knew this school better than he was letting on.

      I’d never been in a boys’ locker room before, not even when I was dating Zach, king of high school athletics back in Georgia. To put it politely, the smell was much…stronger…than in the girls’ locker room. Daniel chivalrously held the door open for me, so I had a chance to glance around when we first went in. I spotted a row of mirrors over the sinks, off in an alcove. Wouldn’t it be useful if I could spot Daniel in one of those – or not spot him, as the case may be СКАЧАТЬ