Free Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side by Beth Fantaskey

own.
     
    My birth mother. And biological father. Their death dates were scrawled there, too.
     
    I stifled a groan of frustration and anger. Why do we have to keep returning to my birth parents? This was supposed to be a happy year for me. A carefree time. But Lucius had arrived, and with him my past. He didn't just drag me down with a nonsensical story about vampires and weddings, but he kept trying to lasso me with my real past, too. To loop a noose around my neck and drag me through a graveyard. Lucius's presence was a constant reminder of who I might have been in Romania. A reminder of not just vampires but ghosts. The ghosts of Mihaela and Ladislau Dragomir.
     
    They were strangers, really. . . I wouldn't grieve them . . . And yet I felt sad.
     
    His own sorrow made Lucius's voice even softer. He traced the unfamiliar words Valeriu and Reveka. "And these were my parents."
     
    I wanted to say something. The right thing. But I didn't know what that might be, for either of us. "Lucius . . ."
     
    "See this date," he continued, not looking at me. "Under our names? That marks our betrothal ceremony. Our parents wrote that date. At least, one of them did." A whisper of a wistful smile played upon his lips. "That was a great day for the Vladescus and Dragomirs. Our two warring clans at peace. Prepared to join together. So much power in one place. How many times have I heard that story?"
     
    "But that's what it is ... a story."
     
    "It's an edict." Lucius slammed the book shut with a thud. "We are meant to be together. Regardless of how we feel about each other. Irrespective of how much you despise me."
     
    "I don't despise you .. ."
     
    "No?" His eyebrows arched, and his mouth twisted into a wry smile. "You could have fooled me."
     
    I turned the tables. "You talk a lot about obligation and duty and chivalry, but I don't get the sense you really like me that much, either. You can't tell me you want to marry me. You just called me a child!"
     
    Lucius took a long time choosing his words. "You are a puzzle to me, Jessica," he finally said. "A mystery. But at least I am open to the possibility of exploring that which I don't understand."
     
    The dim light glimmered in his black eyes, and we were so close that I could see the faint shadow of stubble on his cheeks. Most guys I knew still seemed more like boys than men. Did Jake even shave? But Lucius ... he had crossed that line. And I was sitting on a bed with him. Alone. In a darkened room. Talking about "exploring" my so-called "mysteries." I edged away.
     
    "What would happen, anyway, if we didn't get married?" I asked, trying to change the subject. Distancing us again. "How bad could it be?"
     
    Lucius moved away, too, reclining back on the bed, propped on his elbows. "Most likely a full-scale war, your family against mine, some five million vampires struggling to fill the power vacuum, building coalitions, leaders rising and falling, destruction and bloodshed on a massive scale. And when vampires war ... well, as the old adage says, 'an army travels on its stomach.'"
     
    I wasn't familiar with the saying, so—against my better judgment—I asked, "And that means . . . ?"
     
    "Armies need to eat," Lucius clarified. "So the streets will run with human blood, too. There will be chaos. Countless loss of lives." Lucius paused, shrugging. "Or maybe nothing would happen. Vampires are a very capricious people. It's one of our best—and worst—traits. But really, it's probably not wise to risk it."
     
    "Why do Vladescus and Dragomirs supposedly hate each other so much?"
     
    Lucius shrugged. "Why do all powerful nations and cultures and religions clash? For control of territory. For the simple lust for dominance. It has always been so between our two clans—until the pact secured a tentative promise of peace through unification, as equals. If we fail to complete the bargain—you and I—the blood is on our hands."
     
    Images of blood-drenched streets—my