Эллен Шрайбер - Dance With A Vampire

"Should I meet you at the Mansion or are you going to pick me up?" I asked eagerly.

There was silence on Alexander's end.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I hate to do this to you…," he said, his voice suddenly serious, "but I have to cancel tonight."

"Cancel?" It hit me like a closing coffin lid. "What's wrong?"

"Jameson has the car…and I want to check out the cave and cemetery for Valentine."

"I can ask my mom to drop me off instead.”

“I want to do it alone," Alexander said in a grave tone.

"Alone?"

Alexander didn't respond. I knew he didn't want to put me in harm's way again, but that didn't mean I had to like it.

Not only would I be missing a nocturnal adventure, I'd be missing precious time with Alexander. It was bad enough I had to be away from Alexander in the sunlight; I couldn't face being away from him in the moonlight, too.

"I'll make it up to you," he said in a bright voice. "I still haven't given you the surprise I was going to give you at the cave."

For the next five minutes I tried whining, protesting, and attempting my tried-and-true manipulation tactics, but nothing worked. Alexander put his foot down, before he put the phone down.

Then I tried arguing with my mother, but she wouldn't let me borrow the car. I figured if I used Billy Boy's bike, which had thicker tires than mine, I could meet Alexander at the cemetery before he started for the cave.

I knocked on my brother's door.

"Go away!" I heard my annoying brother say.

"I need to ask you for a favor," I said sweetly.

"I'm busy!"

I slowly cracked open the door. My brother's normally bright room was dark, except for a single desk lamp gently illuminating the room. He was sitting at his computer desk typing away on his keyboard with one hand and holding a gravestone etching in the other. To my surprise, there was someone sitting in a chair next to him—and it wasn't Henry.

I froze. Seated next to Billy Boy was a slightly smaller boy with powder white hair.

I gasped.

As if in slow motion, the vampire boy turned to me.

Two glassy green eyes stared through me.

Valentine looked like he'd been dead for more years than he'd been alive. He had a sullen, cadaverous, and almost handsome ghost white complexion, with soft bloodred lips. His long white shaggy hair hung over his face. He exuded an inner strength and, at the same time, a hint of frailty. Though he was only three-fourths my size and seemed like he could blow over with a gentle breeze, something told me he had the power to withstand the force of a storm.

"What are you doing in here?" my brother asked, rising.

"I didn't invite you in."

"I need to speak with you," I said sternly in a low voice.

Valentine's eyes bored through me. Chills ran down my spine like tiny jabbing icicles.

"Get out. I have company," my brother ordered.

Billy Boy charged toward me. He braced the door with his skinny arms and tried to close it. I stopped it with my combat boot.

"What is he doing here?" I whispered.

"He's spending the night."

My heart skidded to a stop. Spending the night? My brother obviously didn't realize who—or what—he'd invited to share his bedroom.

"He can't stay here," I warned softly.

"I don't tell you when Becky can come over. Since when did you become my mother?"

"Where's Henry?" I asked, stalling. "Shouldn't you have invited him, too?"

"He's staying at his grandmother's."

I glanced back at Valentine, whose green eyes glistened at me hypnotically. He licked his lips, and the light of the desk lamp shined on a small fang.

Like a million strobe lights going off in my head, I realized why Valentine must have come to Dullsville. Jagger and Luna weren't seeking revenge on Alexander anymore—they were seeking revenge on me by threatening my family. And they were sending Valentine to do their bloody work.

"Quit nosing around," Billy Boy said.

"But—"

"Get a life!" he yelled as only a little brother could, and slammed the door in my face.

Billy Boy didn't know Valentine was trying to get a life, too—his.

I paced in my bedroom, my combat boots slamming against the black-carpeted floor, while holding my hissing kitten, who was clearly uptight about our new neighbor.

I had to come up with a plan. Alexander was miles away and I wasn't even certain of his location. Unfortunately he never carried a cell phone. I wouldn't be able to inform him that the very person he was searching for was right here underneath my very own roof.

I took a deep breath. I tried to rack my brain for a strategy. I couldn't leave the house with a vengeful vampire in my brother's bedroom. However, my parents would think I had inhaled glue if I ran downstairs and calmly explained to them that Billy Boy had mistakenly invited over a bloodthirsty descendant of Dracula instead of a new-to-town tween in need of a friend.

I'd have to face this problem head-on.

I found my mother in the kitchen placing a plastic tablecloth over our dinette table. "Mom, we need to talk. That friend of Billy Boy's—he can't stay."

"Why not?"

"Word on the street is he's trouble."

"Thank you for your concern, but I'm not worried about an eleven-year-old boy."

"We barely know this kid. He's a stranger."

"What's there to know? He seems delightful and very charming. I think it's good for Billy to widen his circle of friends. He's coming out of his shell."

Billy Boy would be coming out of more than just a shell if Valentine stayed. He could be coming out of a coffin.

"Do you mind setting the table?" she asked as she filled a plastic cup with ice from the door of the fridge.

I grabbed plastic silverware and paper plates from our pantry.

This game wasn't over. I wasn't ready to fold. I had no choice. I had to show my cards.

The ice maker roared thunderously as my mom filled another cup with ice. I put my hand on the granite countertop and leaned in to my mother. "Valentine thinks he is a vampire."

"What?" she asked, placing the cup on the countertop and beginning to fill another.

"Valentine thinks he's a vampire," I said louder.

"I can't hear you."

I placed my hand over the cup. A few cubes bounced off my knuckles and flew to the floor.

"Valentine has to leave. He thinks he's a vampire," I repeated.

My mom paused. Then she laughed, picked up the fallen cubes, and threw them into the sink.

"Then he should be friends with you, not Billy," she remarked playfully.

"I'm serious."

"Serious?" she asked. "Am I talking to the same person I raised, who at five years old wore a black cape around the house because you were imitating Count Dracula? Who at nine insisted on drinking only raspberry Kool-Aid because you thought it resembled blood? And who, just a few days ago, bought a prom dress that resembles a vampire's bridal outfit?"

My mouth dropped open. Touché. My mother's straight flush beat my full house.

"I think it's wonderful that Billy Boy is accepting someone who is different from himself," she continued. "Someone who reminds him of his sister. I'd think you would be flattered."

The doorbell rang.

My mom grabbed a twenty lying on the kitchen counter, and I followed her to the front door. "The pizzas are here!" she called upstairs.

Billy Boy raced down the stairs, Valentine slowly trailing after him like a ghostly shadow.

Valentine stood on the stairs, his black painted fingernails tapping against the wooden banister. He was intently fixated on me, grinning like a gothic Dennis the Menace. I glared back at the four-foot ten-inch vampire as Billy grabbed the pizzas and my mother paid the delivery woman.

Valentine deliberately brushed by me, sending an icy chill through my body as the two boys flew into the kitchen.