Zara's Curse (Empire of Fangs) (7 page)

“You know,” he said, flashing his white teeth again, “you should have come too.
 
We had quite a time.”
 

Zara felt paralyzed.
 
She wanted to scream but felt voiceless.

A finger tapped Drake on the shoulder, and his eyes flickered back to a soft green.
 
He turned and smiled.
 
“And you must be Twitch.
 
Zara’s little friend.”

Twig returned the smile with a smirk.
 
“Twig, actually.
 
And you must be D.J Lizard.”
 

Drake snorted.
 
“DJ Dragon.”

The two locked eyes, glaring at one another.

“It’s funny,” Drake said calmly, “but I used to know someone who looked just like you,” he began to study Twig’s face.
 
“But he was much older.
 
But I’d be damned if you couldn’t be his son.”

Twig tensed up and tightened his hands into fists.
 
Drake’s face turned to a scowl.
 
Just as the tension became unbearable, a voice came up from the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh! There you are!”

Vivian strode up the stairs with both her hands on her hips.

Zara caught her breath and looked nervously at Drake, who threw an arm around Twig.
 
“I was just introducing myself to Zara’s friend here.
 
He’s absolutely hilarious.
 
But I must get back to it. Somebody has to set the mood around here.”

Vivian frowned at him as he descended the steps muttering, “right round, round, round...”

“Don’t mind him, he is an eternal man-child,” Vivian said dismissively.
 
She noticed that Zara appeared shaken.

“Are you alright?” Vivian asked. “Do you need to lie down?
 
You look pale.”
 
She touched Zara’s head lightly with the back of her hand.
 
That same icy touch that Micah had.

“No, I’m okay, just a bit of a head rush, but it’s passed.”

“Pale seems to be in vogue anyway,” Twig said coldly.
 

Zara wondered what was up with Twig tonight, he was acting stranger than she was.
 
She started to wonder if someone had slipped them both LSD or something.

“Do come back to the table,” Vivian said.
 
“I will bring you a salad.
 
Maybe you’re just hungry.
 
Micah looks positively lonely without you there.”

Vivian went down the stairs, beckoning them with her hand.

When she disappeared out of view Zara looked at Twig.

“Okay.
 
Seriously, what is up with that guy? He is totally psycho.
 
And his eyes…”

Twig frowned.
 
“Don’t you find
all
these people a little odd?”
 

She thought about it.
 
“Maybe they’re a bit eccentric, but Vivian is sweet, and you haven’t even met Micah.”

Twig looked uneasily down the long dark corridor behind them.
 
Zara knew he was holding something back, along with all the other stuff he kept in that secret room in his head.

“No, but I think it’s about time I did,” he said, and ushered her down the stairs.

8.

“Nice to meet you,” Micah said, extending a hand to Twig.
 

Twig waved at him as if he was far away.
 
“And you as well.
 
The Damned. Great band,” he said, tilting his wine glass towards Micah’s shirt.

Micah didn’t seem to take offence to the handshake denial.
 
“Oh, yeah. Thanks.
 
One of my faves.”
 
He gestured for Twig and Zara to sit.

“Your sister might be making me a salad,” Zara said apologetically.

“Yeah she really enjoys doing that,” Micah smiled and nodded his head.
 
Friday I’m in Love
by
The Cure
had begun to play.
   

“I love this song,” Zara said.
 

Micah and Zara were staring at each other once again.
 
Micah tilted his head for a moment, and leaning a bit over the candles, addressed Twig.

“Perhaps you would like to take a walk around and talk to one of these lovely girls,” Micah’s eyes flickered again with variant colors, turning many different shades of blue and purple.
 

Twig leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table.
 
“Nah, I’m good here.
 
They know where I’m at.
 
But I appreciate the suggestion, if that’s what it was.”

 
Micah grinned and shrugged.
 
He seemed a bit unsettled by Twig’s reply.
 
“Well, if I can’t persuade you, maybe I can persuade Zara to take a little walk and show her more of the house.
 
The balcony is really cool.”

Zara looked at Twig and said, “No need to babysit me.
 
I already have a shadow, you know.”
 
The words just came out of her.
 
She suddenly felt that Twig was being too protective.
 
Childish even.
 
Was he really trying to derail her one chance for something good?
 
Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?
 

Twig looked genuinely hurt and a frown formed under his pointy mustache.
 
“Zara…I just don’t think you’re well tonight…maybe we can just go and—“

This time Micah cut him off.
 
“She looks fine to me.
 
I can see you’re a good friend and worried about her, but trust me, she’s safe with me.”

Twig scoffed.
 
“Like she was safe cornered up in the house by that charming DJ friend of yours with the boundary issues?
  
You know he was lurching over her like—” Twig stopped himself.
 
“Well, I think you know exactly who lurches over people like that.
 
I’ll give you a hint: it’s not Frankenstein.”

Micah’s pleasant smile changed into something of a sneer.
 
“No, I did not hear of that.
 
And believe me, I’m going to have a serious talk with him.
 
As for whatever else you’re talking about, I think maybe you should ease up on the wine.
 
You’re sounding a bit crazy,” Micah stood now and Zara came around to his side.
 
She felt drawn in by a force stronger than gravity.
 
She had to be near him.
 
He put out his hand and she took it.
 
She wouldn’t let go this time.

“I can get myself home if you want to go,” Zara said absently to Twig, without taking her eyes off Micah.

Twig stood up and took a step towards Zara. “I’m not gonna leave you here with these— he suddenly stopped himself.
 
All eyes seemed to be on him and a hush fell over the party.

“I said I’m fine!’ Zara snapped, baring her teeth angrily at Twig, who fell backwards over a chair leg and lay in the grass looking up at her, bewildered.
 
Her face was flushed and her eyes looked wild and delirious and both her hands were balled into fists.
 

Zara held her seething glare.
 
A few guests began murmuring and laughing at the spectacle.

“Of course you are...I’m sorry.
 
I’ll leave you to it,” Twig said softly, getting to his feet and setting his empty wine glass on the table.
 

Micah shook his head and gave Twig a little bow.
 
“Goodnight Mister Vanderbilt.
 
Have a safe trip home,” he said.

Zara and Micah walked off together, holding hands.
 
She didn’t bother to look back.

9.

Zara awoke at home to her dad asking her why she was still in bed.
 
She cracked one eye open and looked at the hazy shape of her father.
 

“Huh?” was the best response she could come up with.
 
She sat up and the motion made her headache flare painfully.
 
She was sore all over.
 
She lay back down and groaned.
 
“What time is it?”

“It’s 5pm.
 
I just got in.
 
Are you sick?
 
What’s going on?
 
Did you go out partying all night?” he said, although with no real anger in his voice, only worry.

“Yes,” Zara mumbled.

“Yes what? You’re sick or you went out partying?”

“Yes.
 
Both.
 
I went to a friend’s house and had too much wine.
 
It’s not going to become a habit,” she said defensively.
 
“I’m sure I’m not the first 21-year-old to celebrate her birthday a bit too much.”

Her father sighed and stood up.
 
He was still wearing his cook’s outfit from work.
 
“Well, I think it’s safe to say your birthday is over.
 
Time to get back to reality, and more importantly your classes.
 
You get this one pass.
 
Shape up kiddo.”
 
He gave her a loving smile.

“You’re right, Dad.
 
I’m gonna buckle down on my schoolwork.
 
Now, could you please for the love of all that is holy bring me a Gatorade?
 
I’m in agony.”

“I’ll get ya one…did you go to this party alone?
 
I hope you knew the people—“

She cut him off, “Twig was there.
 
I think he brought me home.”

Her father groaned, “You
think
?
 
Zara…”

“No, he did.
 
I’m just groggy.
 
Everyone there was harmless.
 
It was more of a dinner party than anything.
 
I just overdid it.”
 
She felt guilty for lying, but didn’t feel like telling him she had blacked out and couldn’t remember much of that night, and she had a growing suspicion that she might have been roofied.

“Well, I feel better that you were with Twig.
 
He seems like a good guy.”

“Yeah.
 
He’s okay,” Zara said.
 
She had a hazy memory of her snapping at Twig for something he had said.
 
Had that happened?
 
She suddenly felt very guilty.
 
Did I really drink that much?

Her father sighed and left the room, then reappeared with a Gatorade.
 
“Sleep it off.
 
I gotta go sleep off my job.”

She took the Gatorade from his hands as if it was holy sacrament and guzzled it, spilling a good deal on her bed sheets.

“You do have a drinking problem,” her father said jokingly.

“You stole that joke from
Airplane
.”
 

“I stole all my jokes from that movie,” he said, and then patted her on the head lovingly and stood up.

“I know it’s been rough lately with me not being around much and your mom—“

Zara was far too tired for a conversation about her mother, who had always been an exhausting subject.
 
“Dad.
 
It’s fine.
 
She wasn’t really here when she was here anyway.
 
And I do understand you work so much because you want the roof over our head and all.
 
I’m not that naïve.”

Her dad nodded.
 
“I could never accuse you of that.
 
A bit dorky, yeah.
 
A little foolish at times, but never naïve.”
 

“Thank you, father.
 
That will do,” she said softly.
 
He turned off the light and shut the door.
 
She rolled over and almost immediately fell deep into a dream.