Bloodlines Page 0,62

as Jill's only female chaperone. Besides, I reminded myself, this assignment wasn't about me and my academics, no matter how much I pretended it was. It was about Jill.

"I can go," I said slowly. Thinking that this sounded very much like fraternizing with vampires, I glanced uneasily at Keith. He'd gone back to texting now that magic wasn't being discussed. "Keith?" I asked by way of permission.

He looked up. "Huh? Oh, I can't go. I have to be somewhere."

I tried not to grimace. He'd misread me and thought I was inviting him. On the bright side, he also wasn't objecting to the rest of us going. "Ah, how nice," said Clarence. "An outing for you young people. Perhaps you'll share a glass of wine with me first?" Dorothy was just entering with a bottle of red wine, Jill trailing behind her. Clarence smiled at Adrian. "I know you'd like a glass."

Adrian's expression said he most definitely would. Instead, Adrian took a deep breath and shook his head. "I'd better not."

"You should," said Jill gently. Even after a short drink of blood, she looked full of life and energy.

"Can't," he said.

"It's the weekend," she told him. "It's not that big of a deal. Especially if you're careful."

The two locked gazes and then at last, he said, "All right. Pour me a glass."

"Pour me one too, please," said Keith.

"Really?" I asked him. "I didn't know you drank."

"I'm twenty-one," he countered.

Adrian accepted his from Dorothy. "Somehow, I'm thinking that's not Sage's concern. I thought Alchemists avoided alcohol the same way they do primary colors."

I glanced down. I was wearing gray. Keith was wearing brown.

"One glass won't hurt," said Keith.

I didn't argue with him. It wasn't my place to babysit Keith. And the Alchemists didn't have rules against drinking per se. We had strong religious beliefs about what it meant to live a good and pure lifestyle, and drinking was generally looked down upon. Was it forbidden? No. It was a custom, one I considered important. If he didn't, I guessed that was his choice.

Keith was just bringing the glass to his lips when Adrian said, "Mmm. O positive, my favorite."

Keith sprayed out the wine he'd just drunk and promptly started coughing. I was relieved that none got on me. Jill burst into giggles, and Clarence stared at his glass wonderingly.

"Is it? I thought it was a cabernet sauvignon."

"So it is," said Adrian, straight-faced. "My mistake."

Keith gave Adrian a tight smile, like he too thought it was a funny joke, but I wasn't fooled. Keith was mad at having been mocked, and no matter how friendly he pretended to be with everyone, his views against vampires and dhampirs were as harsh as they'd ever been. Of course, Adrian probably wasn't helping matters any. I thought it was pretty funny, honestly, and worked to hide my smile so that Keith wouldn't get mad at me again. It was hard to do because shortly thereafter, Adrian flashed me a secret, knowing smile that seemed to say, That's payback for earlier.

Eddie glanced at Jill. "I'm glad you got your blood today. I know you've been wanting to learn some defense moves, but I wanted to wait until you were back up to strength."

Jill lit up. "Can we do it tomorrow?"

"Of course," he said, looking nearly as delighted by this as she did.

Keith frowned. "Why should she learn to fight when she's got you around?"

Eddie shrugged. "Because she wants to, and she should have every edge she can get." He didn't specifically mention the attempts on her life - not in front of Lee and Clarence - but the rest of us understood.

"I thought Moroi weren't good at fighting, though," said Keith.

"Mostly because they haven't trained for it. They aren't as strong as us, sure, but their reflexes are better than yours," explained Eddie. "It's just a matter of learning the skills and having a good teacher."

"Like you?" I teased.

"I'm not bad," he said modestly. "I can train anyone who wants to learn." He elbowed Adrian, who was reaching for the wine and a refill. "Even this guy."

"No, thank you," said Adrian. "These hands don't sully themselves with fighting."

"Or with manual labor," I remarked, recalling past comments of his.

"Exactly," he said. "But maybe you should have Castile show you how to throw a punch, Sage. It might come in handy. Seems like a skill a plucky young woman like yourself should possess."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I'm not really sure when I'd need it," I