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Ben looked pretty damned amused as he set the coffee and pastry aside and pulled my sister back into her chair. She promptly burst into tears and buried her face in Ben’s shirt. “Sorry, Miss Iris. She’s had three days to bounce between panic and pissed-off. You gave us quite a scare.”
“Three days?” I exclaimed.
“Ophelia Lambert, that creepy vampire chick, picked us up at the Dairy Freeze after you were brought here,” Ben said. “We called her as soon as we got to a main road, told her she needed to get to the Marchand house. She said the same thing you did, to get to a well-lit, populated place and stay there. She came to pick us up, said Mr. Marchand was dead and you were hurt.”
“Marchand is dead?”
Ben nodded. “Cal poisoned him, gave him some of the same stuff he was given but a much bigger dose. Ophelia said you would understand that. She told us that you were brought here but not to worry about the bills, because the Council would take care of whatever the insurance didn’t.”
“Massive internal bleeding!” Gigi yelled with sudden authority.
“You had massive internal bleeding,” Ben informed me calmly while my sister raged. “A few broken ribs, a wound on your arm that required surgery, a lot of broken bones on your left side, and a punctured lung.”
“Severe concussion!” Gigi added between sobs.
Ben nodded. “And a concuss—”
“Severe!” Gigi cried.
“A severe concussion,” Ben finished, patting Gigi’s back. “Your legs are OK, though. That’s something.”
Gigi continued to cry softly. I reached out to touch her but gasped at the searing pain in my arm. “I’m sorry, Geeg, I really am. No more fistfights with vampires, I promise.”
“I was all alone!” Gigi cried, untangling herself from Ben and throwing herself back on my chest. I wheezed at the impact and the radiating waves of agony in my ribs. “The doctors kept asking me questions about living wills and DNRs and insurance. I didn’t know anything about that stuff. They shoved all this paperwork at me, and when I said I was only seventeen and couldn’t sign it, they called Child Protective Services! They said I might have to go to foster care if you didn’t wake up. I guess I never realized what would happen if—if something—if you—”
“Shhh,” I said, patting her head.
“I’m so sorry if I’ve ever been mean to you or made you feel lame because you were trying to take care of me. I know you work hard and worry a lot and give up stuff to make sure I’m OK. And if I ever make you feel like it’s not worth it, I want you to kick my ass.”
“OK.”
“And ground me. In fact, I’m thinking of grounding myself after that bullshit I pulled with John. I can’t believe Ben put up with it. Oh, but can I be ungrounded on April 23? Because that’s the prom, and Ben asked me.”
“Watch your language,” I said as she dabbed at the tears on my cheeks. “And sure, you can go to the prom. We’ll go dress shopping as soon as I’m out of traction.”
“OK.” She sniffed, brightening a little when talk turned to silhouettes and color choices, whether it was tacky for Ben to match his bow tie and cummerbund to her dress.
As my sister chattered happily and Ben cautiously picked through the Godiva box, all thoughts of lying vampire Romeos and nearly dead sisters were abandoned for corsage floral schemes. I couldn’t help but wonder where Cal was. I was hurt, injured while saving him, and he couldn’t come to the hospital to check on me? Had he gone back to the house to check on Gigi while I was unconscious? Had he already left town?
I cleared my throat, trying to focus on something beyond the hot tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. When Gigi finally took a breath, I focused on the boy standing awkwardly at her side. He was looking everywhere but at me, which made me think that my hospital gown was a little more revealing than I’d previously believed. I plucked nervously at the robe, tightening it at my throat. “Ben, I’ve been meaning to ask you, but I’ve been unconscious. How did you find us?”
Ben blushed. “There’s this new app for the iPhone called FriendRadar. If a phone that’s on your contact list is within a hundred feet, it will ping until you’re standing right in front of that person. It’s supposed to help you find your friends at the mall or the movies or that sort of thing. But I rewrote the software to increase the range. I was supposed to be picking up Gigi at your place the night John took you guys. When I got there and saw the house tossed, I turned on the app and followed Gigi’s signal.”
“How much did you increase the range?” Gigi asked.
Ben cleared his throat and averted his eyes. “I probably shouldn’t tell you that. It’s not entirely, um, condoned by the FCC.”
“You’re a genius,” I told him. “You have permission to date my sister, for real this time. No curfews, no restrictions, no base limits.”
“Thanks, but I’m pretty sure that’s the painkillers talking,” Ben assured me, squeezing Gigi’s shoulder affectionately. “We can talk more about dating rules later.”
Gigi’s mood darkened suddenly. “I should have dated you all along. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t fallen for John’s crap, Iris wouldn’t have gotten hurt. You know, that night at the movies, I was texting him because he wanted to know where I was. He was trying to figure out how much time he had to search our house and then jump us. Asshole.”
I patted her cheek, wincing when the IV pulled at the skin of my wrist. “Geeg, you’re not a bad kid. You’ve never made me regret taking you on. Question my sanity? Yes. But never regret. Even with the John thing. You just made a series of really bad decisions, which is something I can identify with.”
“You mean with Cal?” she asked.>Mr. Marchand roared indignantly and sank his fangs into my forearm, tearing viciously into my flesh. I screamed, pulling uselessly at the arm caught in his teeth.
“This was stupid! This was so stupid!” I yelled as he bucked and dodged. I used my good hand to stab the syringe into his neck and push the plunger.
