The Silver Eyed Prince (Highest Royal Coven of Europe) (5 page)

“Hear what?” Sue scanned the room.

“Never mind.” Elizabeth sighed and sat back. The sound had progressed into rock music and no one seemed to hear it except for Billy Smith, who was tapping his foot to the beat. But he has his ear buds on.
Weird.

Mrs. Brown stopped writing on the board and faced the class. The music suddenly stopped. Elizabeth watched Billy pull out his ear buds.

The bell rang with a loud shrill. She pressed her hands firmly against her ears, feeling as if her head would split.

“What are you doing?” Sue gave her a 'you're weirding-me-out' look as she gathered her things.

“That bell! It's so loud!”

Sue rolled her eyes. “It's been that way for the past four years, goofy!” She chuckled and headed t
owards the door.  

Elizabeth jiggled her ears again and followed her out.

“Billy!” Sue waved at the tall, dark-haired boy ahead of them who swung around and waited for them to catch up. “Do you have new music downloads?”

“I got the Red Jackets,” he r
eplied.

“Do you know the song
Bee Sting
by the Red Jackets?” Elizabeth asked.

“Oh, yeah!” Billy grinned. “I was just playing it in class on my Ipod.”

Elizabeth paused, perplexed.
She was right! Billy was listening to that song! But how—?

“Swweeet!” Sue enthused. “Can you send me the file?”

“No prob.” Billy nodded. “Tonight.”

Lunchtime came. Elizabeth rubbed her temples as they made their way through the throng of kids in the hallway leading to the cafeteria. Her head hurt from all the chatter around her.

“Headache?” Sue asked.

“Yeah.” She flinched as they passed a group of jocks who were bantering boisterously.

They reached the cafeteria and took their places in line.

“What are you having?” Sue peered at the food on the counter.

“Salad.” Elizabeth gagged, assaulted by the comb
ination of food, disinfectant spray, and trash. The server eyed her and frowned.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Sue peered at her with concern.

“I'm fine.” She swallowed the bile in her throat and held her breath.

They paid and headed to the table where Anne, Charlie, Vanessa, and Br
yan were sitting.

“Sit here, Lizzie-bee.” Bryan grabbed a chair from the next table and placed it next to his. “Here, Sue!” He pulled another chair and set it by Elizabeth's.

“Tickets and flyers to the Mardi Gras!” Anne handed leaflets to everyone on the table. “Charlie and I are in the French Club committee this year.”

“You guys better not miss it.” Charlie helped pass the leaflets around. “We'll do the annual awards cerem
ony for students and teachers who contributed time and talent in service to the school and community.”

“Sue is one of the awardees,” Anne added.

“Congrats, Sue!” Elizabeth said.

Sue thanked her and the rest of the group who e
xpressed their kudos.

“We're also doing the Mardi Gras King Cake co
ntest. You should participate, Vanessa!” Anne handed her a form.

“You betcha!” Vanessa reached out to grab the p
aper.

“Oh, and don't forget—,” Charlie waved the extra leaflets in the air to get their attention. “There's a prize for the best costume.”

“And because the Mardi Gras is also a dance,” Anne said, “you guys can bring a date.” 

“Who are you going with, Bryan?” Sue asked.

Bryan looked at Elizabeth. “I don't know yet,” he replied over her head. “It depends.”

Elizabeth stared at the untouched salad on her tray. She knew Bryan would rather take her than ask some girl on a date.

Sue nudged her. “Aren't you hungry?”

“I think there are bugs in my salad.” Elizabeth peered at the tiny creatures crawling on the lettuce.

“Where?” Sue slid closer to look at her plate.

Elizabeth caught her scent. Her stomach growled.

“I can't see anything.” Sue turned to her, “looks fine to me.”

Elizabeth’s gaze drifted to the pulse throbbing on Sue's throat. She swallowed hungrily.
God, she was thirsty!

Sue frowned. “What? Is there something on my neck?” She threw her head back to give Elizabeth a be
tter view.

Elizabeth moved her face nearer. She was so fa
mished and dehydrated that her gums itched.
If only she could have a little ...
she slowly parted her lips.

“Hey!” Sue snapped
. “I'm getting a neck ache! Do you see anything?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah! Stay still.” Elizabeth blinked se
veral times to zap whatever hallucination she'd fallen into and pretended to pick something off. Her hand trembled on contact with Sue's warm skin and an odd tingle emanated from her fingertips.

“Yikes!” Sue jumped. “Your fingers are freezing!”

Elizabeth quickly snatched her hand back and grasped her own neck in a chokehold.
Something was wrong.
A burning sensation had ignited in her parched throat and her thirst had become urgent, demanding immediate gratification. It
wasn't
water she craved.

Her eyes traveled greedily around the table. She was making a selection, but couldn't figure out why or what for. She fixated on Bryan and licked her lips.

“Lizzie-bee?”

His questioning emerald eyes brought back her se
nsibilities. Heat bombarded her cheeks when she realized how close she had drawn herself to him. His breath fanned on her face and her mouth was within an inch away from his, as if they were about to kiss.

She quickly recoiled.

“Did you hear what I said?” Bryan asked.

Elizabeth shook her head. “I'm sorry—what was that again?”

Bryan rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Who are you going with to the Mardi Gras?”

“Oh. That.” Her gaze drifted to the column of his neck. Peculiar sensations sizzled through her. She wan
ted to plant her mouth right
there.
She wanted to ... to—s
omething was definitely wrong.

Bryan cleared his throat. “You're staring like I'm good enough to eat.” He pinched her chin playfully.

Elizabeth swiveled in her chair and pushed her tray forcefully away. The others stopped chatting and curiously glanced at her.

For a moment everyone was silent.
What on earth was the matter with her?

Her mother's words rang in her head
. You can't go to school. It's not safe.

Realization dawned and panic brewed.
She has to get the hell out of here!

“I have to go.” She hastily stood up, grabbed her backpack, and shoved her chair away.

“Lizzie-bee! Wait!” She heard Bryan call after her as she fled.

She ignored him and rushed to the exit doors. 

The brightness outside shocked her. Instinctively she covered her eyes, feeling like they’d been stung by wasps. She hid her face in her hair and peeked cautiously between her fingers to reorient herself. Keeping her head down, she made her way towards the covered walkway that led to the main building.

A few students brushed by, leaving a trail of savory scent in their wake. Her senses heightened in response. She stared after them, singling out a girl who was wal
king alone.

Opportunity,
an unfamiliar voice whispered in her head.

Unable to resist, she found he
rself stalking the girl. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own, moving stealthily, quicker than she thought herself capable. Gradually, the gap closed between them. As the girl turned into an isolated corner, she reached out and grabbed her arm.

“Hey!” the girl yelled.

Elizabeth's gums prickled and she salivated, her attention riveted to the girl’s throat.

The girl struggled against her firm grip, spilling her books. “What are you doing? Let go—!”

The shrill sound of the bell drowned the girl's voice, signaling the end of the lunch hour.

Elizabeth winced in sudden awar
eness. “Sorry! I'm so sorry!” She quickly released the girl's arm and backed away. “I thought you were somebody else. Sorry!”
Oh God! What was she doing?

For the second time, reality set in as she watched the girl angrily pick up her books from the ground.

No one is safe around her
,
she thought in dismay.

She turned and ran—away from the girl, far from everyone. She kept on running until she found herself at the end of the football field. She co
llapsed underneath the nearby bleachers, rubbing the back of her neck. The pain had come back and it burned as badly as her desiccated throat. 

Her body began to tremble.

She was hot; she was cold; she was wild with thirst. 

Her eyes stung from the sunlight. She was in agony; she couldn't breathe. The darkness was swallowing her.

“Drink!” her mom's voice penetrated her fading consciousness.

In her delirium she saw her mother’s face in the shadows, squeezing her cheeks, forcing her cracked lips open.

“Mom . . .” she muttered, dazed, as warm liquid slid down her throat. It felt good, but then her stomach clenched violently. She wanted to throw up. Her whole body shuddered. She was being electrocuted. Sharp needles tortured her from her head down to her toes. She felt the life hammered out of her in relentless, excruciating blows. With her last ounce of strength, she threw her head from side to side and screamed.

“Hush, it will be over soon.” Mom stroked her hair.

But she couldn't stand it anymore. The pain was unbearable.
Let me go, Mom, please ... let me die.

Everything went black.

The Aftermath

       E
lizabeth opened her eyes, blinked multiple times, and looked around. She was propped against a pole underneath the bleachers, an empty can next to her and another one in her hand.

Diet drinks.
Her mom had made her drink some. She bolted upright, glancing to the left and to the right, frantically searching for her.

The contents of the can in her hand spilled from her jerky movements. She paused and studied the liquid that dribbled to her fingers. It looked f
amiliar. She touched it cautiously.

She'd seen this before
.

Then, recognition hit her. With a horrified shriek, she flung the can away. The contents splashed in a glor
ious crimson map on the pavement.

It
is
blood
.

Minutes later, she found herself walking towards home on the side of the road. Her cell phone kept rin
ging, but she didn't want to talk to anyone. Dark clouds rolled in, bleak as her mood. The winds picked up and rain fell. She raised her face, welcoming the downpour, oblivious to the cold and thunder overhead. She wished lightning would strike her—because she hated what she had become.

By the time she reached the house, she was drenched to the bone. But b
efore she had the chance to squeeze the doorknob, the door opened.

Mom stood with a large towel in her hand.

“I saw you!” Elizabeth pointed a forefinger at her.

Mom threw the towel at her and walked away.

“You were there!” Elizabeth trailed after her, drying her face and flinging the towel into a nearby chair. She followed her mom to the kitchen, where she sat at the table and started to read the day’s paper. Stung by her disregard, Elizabeth furiously rummaged in her backpack.

She slammed two empty cans on the table. “Don't deny it! You made me drink these!”

Mom gave her a disinterested shrug and went back to her paper.

“Why are you ignoring me?” Eliz
abeth trembled in aggravation. “Talk to me!”

“It's no use talking if you're not ready to listen,” Mom replied without bothering to look up.

Elizabeth plopped on the opposite chair and buried her face in her hands. Her life had fallen apart and her mother couldn't understand what she was going through! But she couldn't cry anymore. Crying never solved anything.

She took a deep breath. “I'm ready now,” she r
eplied with all the calm she could muster.

“Good,” Mom put down the paper, “because I have no intention of was
ting my time, if you're going to argue and refuse to accept the truth about who we are.”

“But it all sounds ridiculous! How could you expect me to believe?”

“I didn't—, but I tried,” Mom replied curtly. “When I saw how determined you were to push me away, I let you go.”