Bloodlines Page 0,54

and heard a familiar and annoying voice. Greg Slade's. Curious in spite of myself, I walked over to the edge of the crowd. Slade was showing off something on his upper arm: a tattoo.

The design itself was nothing special. It was an eagle in flight, the kind of generic art all tattoo shops had in stock and copied en masse. What caught my attention was the color. It was all done in a rich, metallic silver. Metallics like that weren't easy to pull off, not with that sheen and intensity. I knew the chemicals that went into my own gold tattoo, and the formula was complex and composed of several rare ingredients.

Slade made a halfhearted effort to keep his voice low - tattoos were forbidden around here, after all - but it was clear he was enjoying the attention. I observed quietly, glad others were asking some of my questions for me. Of course, those questions only left me with more questions.

"That's brighter than the ones they used to do," one of his friends noted.

Slade tilted his arm so the light caught it. "Something new. They say these are better than the ones from last year. Not sure if that's true, but it wasn't cheap, I can tell you that."

The friend who'd spoken grinned. "You'll find out at tryouts."

Laurel - the red-haired girl who'd been interested in Micah - stretched out her leg beside Slade, revealing a slim ankle adorned with a faded butterfly tattoo. No metallics there. "I might get mine touched up, maybe for homecoming if I can get the money from my parents. Do you know if the celestial ones are better this year too?" She tossed back her hair as she spoke. From what I'd observed in my brief time at Amberwood, Laurel was very vain about her hair and made sure to throw it around at least every ten minutes.

Slade shrugged. "Didn't ask."

Laurel noticed me watching. "Oh, hey. Aren't you vampire girl's sister?"

My heart stopped. "Vampire?"

"Vampire?" echoed Slade.

How did she find out? What am I going to do? I had just begun making a list of the Alchemists I had to call when one of Laurel's friends snickered. Laurel looked at them and laughed haughtily, then turned back to me. "That's what we've decided to call her. No one human could possibly have skin that pale."

I nearly sagged in relief. It was a joke - one that hit painfully close to the truth, but a joke nonetheless. Still, Laurel didn't seem like someone to cross, and it'd be better for all of us if it was a joke soon forgotten. I admittedly blurted out the first distracting comment that came to mind. "Hey, stranger things have happened. When I first saw you, I didn't think anyone could have hair that long or that red. But you don't hear me talking about extensions or dye." Slade nearly doubled over with laugher. "I knew it! I knew it was fake!"

Laurel flushed nearly as red as her hair. "It is not! It's real!"

"Miss Melbourne?"

I jumped at the voice behind me and found Ms. Terwilliger there, watching me with bemusement. "You aren't getting credit for chatting, especially when my coffee's on the line. Come on."

I skulked away, though hardly anyone noticed. Laurel's friends were having too much fun teasing her. I hoped I had diffused the vampire jokes.

Meanwhile, I couldn't get the image of Greg's tattoo out of my mind. I let my thoughts wander to the mystery of what components would be needed for that silver color. I almost had it figured out - at least, I had one possibility figured out - and wished I had access to Alchemist ingredients to do some experiments. Ms. Terwilliger took the coffee gratefully when we reached a small workroom.

"Thank God," she said, after taking a long sip. She nodded at mine. "Is that a backup one? Excellent thinking."

"No, ma'am," I said. "It's mine. Do you want me to start in on those?" A familiar stack of books sat on the table, ones I'd seen in her classroom. They were core parts of her research, and she'd told me I'd eventually need to outline and document them for her. I reached for the top one, but she stopped me.

"No," she said, moving toward a large briefcase. She rifled through papers and assorted office supplies, finally digging out an old leather book. "Do this one instead."

I took the book. "Can I work out there?" I was hoping if I went back to