Lucette tucked her short curls behind her ears. In the two years since she’d chopped off her long hair, it had grown down to her chin. At least it wasn’t quite so boyish anymore, but even though she was now fifteen, her body still hadn’t cooperated. Well beyond late-bloomer status now, Lucette figured it was time to face the fact that a curvy figure was not in her future.
She kept her eyes on Tristan as he demonstrated a wrestling hold on a younger boy, Hans, who’d been working with them and had been sworn to secrecy about the mysterious girl “Lucy” who trained in the gym late at night. Lucette had been training with Tristan at least five times a week, and although he didn’t give out praise easily, she could tell he was proud of her progress.
She focused her attention on the demonstration she’d soon be expected to emulate. Tristan was playing the part of a slayer, and Hans was playing the vampire. Tristan lunged for Hans, feigning a frontal attack, but at the last moment, Tristan ducked down under Hans’s arm and grabbed it.
Using one leg, he swept Hans off his feet. Once he had Hans on the ground, he twisted the boy’s arm to force him onto his chest, then pinned him by kneeling on one arm and pressing the other into his back.
“Do you understand?” Tristan asked her, as he let Hans up. The younger boy rubbed his arm.
Lucette nodded. Her heart was thumping hard and fast. Not only was she unsure she could pull off this maneuver—especially on Tristan, who was taller and stronger—but these exercises, which resulted in body-on-body contact, made her nervous. Each time Tristan had her pinned or held her closely, she closed her eyes and imagined him holding her for more romantic reasons.
“Tristan?” Hans asked. “Is it okay if I take off? I’ve got a vampire history test tomorrow morning.”
Tristan nodded, and the boy headed out.
Lucette’s heart beat even faster at the thought of being alone with Tristan. Maybe tonight was her chance to tell him how she felt.
The fairy queen had told her that she’d know how to prove her love when the time came, so maybe this overwhelming desire to kiss Tristan was a sign. Maybe she could lift the curse before it even took effect and she and Tristan could live happily ever after. Although he was nearly three years older, there were no rules about age where love was concerned, and no way to control when or with whom love happened. How ironic if her father had been right all along. Maybe she was old enough for love after all.
She watched Hans leave the room and considered how to tell Tristan she loved him. Slowly, she turned with what she hoped was a seductive smile.
Tristan lunged like a vampire. Lucette’s shock vanished and her slayer training kicked in, but she ducked under his arm too late to get a strong hold, and then her leg sweep missed. Before she could adjust her stance, he had one arm pinned behind her back, and he pulled down so that her body was bent back against his—with his teeth on her throat.
She panted, first from the shock and then from the rush of feelings flowing through her. Closing her eyes, she sighed and stretched her head to the side, exposing her neck further.
He dropped her and she fell onto the mat. “Ouch!”
“Ouch?” Tristan glared at her, even more handsome when angry. “Is that all you have to say? If I were a vampire, you’d be bitten. Three bites and you’d be dead. I’m beginning to think you’re not serious about this anymore. Maybe we’re done. I’m not sure I can teach you much more—not if you’re going to be so sloppy.”
Her cheeks burned. “You surprised me.”
“Oh, sorry.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “If I were a real vampire, I would have said, ‘Are you ready, Lucy? Because I’m about to attack you.’”
“Very funny.” She got to her feet as gracefully as she could. She stepped toward him with a soft smile on her face. Before she realized what she was doing, she reached out to touch his powerful upper arm.
But before her fingers reached his skin, he pulled his arm away. “What’s your story, Lucy? Not many girls want to learn how to be slayers. None that I know of, anyway, other than you.”
Her chest heaved as she fought to control her breath and her nerves. He was interested in her, asking personal questions. This was her chance. The fairies had been right: she knew what to do.
She tipped up onto her toes and leaned forward to kiss him. But before their lips met, Tristan jerked back sharply, and the only thing she managed to kiss was air.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
Undeterred, she reached for him again.
“Lucy, that’s highly inappropriate!” His voice was clipped and sharp.
“Why?”
His face turned from shock to pity. He rubbed a hand over his chin. “I don’t . . . I mean, I can’t . . . You’re just a kid.”
“I am not.” She put her hand on his chest, but he pulled it off. “I’m almost fifteen,” she said.
He backed into a leather-topped wooden horse. “Lucy, I’ll be eighteen soon. The age difference is too much. I’ve never met your father, but I’m quite sure he’d kill me.”
“No, you’re wrong. He wouldn’t. In fact, he’s been making me date since I was thirteen.”
Tristan looked shocked at that, so she stepped forward and cornered him against the horse. Just a few more inches and their bodies would touch. But he slid to the side and rounded the horse to put the large apparatus between them.“I’m sorry if I did something to give you the wrong idea.”
Every boy who showed up to her father’s Friday-night galas found her appealing, so why wasn’t Tristan interested?
Realizing the likely truth, she crossed her arms over her chest and backed up a few steps. Those stupid boys liked her because she was a princess. They were trying to get on the good side of the king. None of them thought she was pretty or really liked her; they just pretended to. How humiliating. Her eyes narrowed and she squeezed her lips together, wishing she could erase the entire night.
“My graduation is in a few weeks,” Tristan said. “After that, I’ll be going home to Judra. If you like, I’ll keep training you until I leave, but I understand if you’d rather not.” He looked down.“I’m sure Hans would be happy to continue practicing with you.”
Her heart pinched, and she turned away to hide the pain she knew was spreading all over her face.
“Just forget it,” she snapped. She stomped to the back door, behind which the groom who’d brought her was waiting.
At the door, she turned back. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” As hard as it was to imagine training with Tristan after tonight’s fiasco, it was even harder to imagine never seeing him again.
“Why so sad?” Her father cupped her face, rubbing her cheek with his thumb like he used to when she was little.
She couldn’t tell her father the truth—that she was devastated because her secret slayer trainer had rejected her and had moved home to Judra—and she wondered what she could tell him without lying. Even though she’d been deceiving her father, she avoided outright lies whenever possible.
“Is it boy trouble?” he asked.
Surprised he’d guessed, she nodded as tears filled her eyes. She felt like a total baby, crying in front of her father like this, but ever since Tristan’s rejection three weeks ago she’d felt like crying all the time.
Her mother, sensing her sadness was related to her trainer’s departure, had offered to find a replacement. Even her mother didn’t get it.
Too humiliated to tell her the truth, Lucette had turned down her mother’s offer. Her mother was so delicate and pretty, Lucette figured she had probably never been rejected by a boy. How could she have been? She’d met her future husband so young, and gotten married when she was not much older than Lucette was now.
Her father pulled her into his arms. “I’m so sorry. With all your dates chaperoned, I didn’t think anything bad would happen. Which one of those boys hurt you?”
She pulled back. “It’s not like that, Dad.”
“Then what?”
Her lips started to tremble, but she took a deep breath to calm herself. “I like a boy more than he likes me.”
“Oh, that’s not possible!”
“No, Dad, it’s true. And I don’t just like him, I love him, but he doesn’t love me.”
The look of concern in her father’s eyes turned to warm sympathy. “Oh, Lucette. I’m so sorry. Tell me who he is and I’ll have a word with him.”
She pulled back. “No!”
“But if I can help . . .”
She shook her head.“No, Dad. This is one area of my life where you can’t help. You can’t make a boy love me with a royal decree. Besides, he moved away.”
Her father embraced her gently. “If he didn’t love you, then he’s a very foolish boy, indeed, and not the one you were meant to love. Don’t despair, I’ll introduce you to more boys at Friday evening’s reception. One of them is bound to help you forget this young man.”
Lucette buried her face in her father’s chest. Even if he was wrong about this, it felt so good to be wrapped up in his arms and, for just a few minutes, to believe that he could keep her safe forever.