It was morning. Donna was in bed with her eyes closed. A tongue licked her neck.
“Who let a dog in my room?” she mumbled groggily.
“I have an idea,” Hunter grinned crookedly. “Why don't you shut up and kiss me?”
She laughed. “Not a chance with that attitude.”
Hunter grinned and stretched. “I could get used to this.”
Donna watched his muscles flex and wanted nothing more than to wrap herself around him and have her way with every inch of him. “Get used to what?”
“Waking up next to the most beautiful girl on earth and spending the whole day in bed with her.” Donna reached over and kissed him. Then she remembered.
“Shit! I'm going to be late for class. I can't miss two days in a row.” She shot out of bed and raced to the bathroom with a pile of clothes she didn't bother to look at, just grabbed from her closet. After brushing her teeth, splashing her face with water and pulling on jeans and the pink top Mo hated so much because it was pink, Donna stepped from the bathroom to discover Hunter still sprawled naked in bed, like a Roman god waiting to be hand-fed peeled grapes by his adoring servant.
She searched all over for her shoes and found one of them under the bed and the other on top of her dresser. How had it gotten there? “Is Stephen going to get me while I'm at school?”
Hunter smiled, but it was sad. “No, sweetheart. In sunlight, he'd vaporize to dust.”
“Doesn’t Stephen have the sunscreen pills?” Donna looked in the mirror. Her hair was awful.
Hunter chuckled. “There's no way my supplier would sell those pills to Stephen.”
“How can you be sure?”
“My supplier hates Stephen. And just to make sure he hates him enough, I offered the supplier a little financial incentive. The best Stephen could do is dress from head-to-toe in Underworld-grade, sun-protective clothing. But even that’s risky for more than a few moments, and again, the vampire in such a situation is at an extreme disadvantage. He could never chase and catch you, for instance.”
Well, that was at least good news. “But what about the minions?”
“It's all taken care of.”
“If you don't mind my saying so,” Donna pulled a brush through her hair, “you seem rather cavalier about all this. After yesterday, I'm not so confident.” Donna found some lipstick and applied it.
“Trust me. I would never let you out of my sight if I didn't have confidence in your safety.”
How I would love to be so confident.
Hunter stretched, yawned, and his muscles flexed again. Donna swallowed hard and wondered if the anatomy professor would accept “Exploration of My Vampire Boyfriend's Body” as a valid assignment.
“Are you planning on staying here all day?” She picked up her laptop and the books that she'd never even looked at all weekend. “Or would you like me to drop you off somewhere?”
“I'll stay here,” he rolled onto his back and she watched his chest gently rise with each breath. Donna put on her pink sweater, which Mo also hated.
“What if my mom and Brad decide to grace this house with another appearance?”
“I'll just say, 'Hi, Donna's mother. I'm holding down your daughter's bed while she's at school. That way when she comes home, it will be here for her to hop in with me.’”
“Are you seriously going to stay?” Donna frowned.
“It’s much safer if I do. It's daylight out there.” Hunter rolled on his side and propped up on an elbow. It accentuated his bicep. How could anybody have such an utterly perfect body? “Come here,” he coaxed.
“You're reading my mind,” she groaned. “And if I come over there, you'll find a way to keep me in bed all day. Besides,” Donna spoke in a tone that she hoped would convince herself as well as Hunter. “My parents are paying for my college education, not my bedroom one. The least I can do is try to get their money's worth.”
Hunter grinned crooked and cute. “I understand. Have a good day.”
Donna was a bit disappointed at his lack of resistance. “You too.”
“I love you,” he winked.
“I love you, too.” She gasped. “Oh, I mean - I'm sorry.” She looked at her feet and felt her face redden.
Hunter chuckled. “Why are you sorry?”
It's just that, that's the first time we've said it.”
“No, sweetheart, it isn't.”
A few moments later, Donna backed the Mustang from the garage and felt lighter than air, despite the wrecked front grille and pack of minions following her around like groupies on a concert circuit. Hunter stood at the bedroom window, shielding himself from sunlight. Donna waved, but the sun was too bright for her to tell whether he waved back. She hoped he didn't parade naked around the house for Mom to trip over if she decided to stop by. Donna wondered if other college girls ever have the problem of a naked boyfriend alone in their parents’ house while they went to biology class, or if it was just another of the weird perks reserved for mortal girls Eternally Partnered to Underworld guys.
A hideously ugly, black Bronco sat alongside the curb. It grumbled to life at the sight of the Mustang. The driver, who she refused to look at, followed Donna clear to campus, and then parked his ugly beast a few spots down from where she parked. Donna ignored him and trotted off to class.
Mo texted her during Physics.
“Meet me @ lunch in caf.”
“OK,” Donna texted back.
After class, Donna deposited her books in the Mustang while kicking herself for not getting Hunter's phone number so she could check on him. She curled her lip at the Bronco, which was now occupant-free, and had a ticket under its wiper blade for parking in the student lot without a sticker. Donna grinned.
Serves the big, ugly, murdering ass right.
She felt somebody staring at her. So, she glanced up, expecting it to be the big, ugly, murdering ass. Instead, a petite woman about her mother's age, wearing huge sunglasses and carrying an over-sized, black umbrella, stood behind the Mustang, glaring.
“Hello,” her voice had a high pitch.
“Hi,” Donna muttered.
She lowered the glasses just long enough for Donna to detect a pair of bulging, deep-brown eyes. “I'm Ms. Schmill, the new guidance counselor.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Schmill.”
“Ms. Schmill, not Mrs.”
“Oh, sorry.”
Donna shut the Mustang's door and observed the woman closely. She had dark, shoulder-length, perfectly sculpted hair which framed the bulging eyes that lorded over her tiny frame. She wore a wide-brimmed red hat, elbow-length black gloves, and carried that umbrella like the fancy ladies in Victorian movies did when they stepped outside for their afternoon stroll.
“You're Donna McCormick.”
“Yes,” Donna said slowly.
“Please come with me.” Ms. Schmill smiled like a hyena preparing to attack.
“Is something wrong?”
“Just come with me, Donna. And hurry up about it.” Ms. Schmill whirled on her heels then clicked neatly and quickly back toward the building.
What was so important that Ms. Schmill made a point to summon Donna while she was minding her own business in the parking lot? Was there a no-tolerance policy of skipping school to have sex with vampires? Ms. Schmill, dressed neat and crisp in a red pant suit that seemed at odds with the black gloves and big umbrella, clicked across campus in her bright red stilettos at a pace that Donna, even in her sneakers, couldn't keep up with. They passed several students who stopped what they were doing to watch Donna trudge past like a condemned prisoner approaching her last moments on earth. By the time they entered the administration building, Donna was out of breath and luckily, Ms. Schmill slowed the pace, somewhat. But she still traipsed along at a quick clip. Down a hall and through an administration office they went, office workers scuttling aside like rats on a sinking ship, avoiding Donna's gaze. Ms. Schmill turned left and Donna followed her down another hall
. A few minutes later they arrived at a door with “Ms. Schmill” on it. During this whole time, Ms. Schmill didn't utter a word.
At the door, she removed her big sunglasses, then a set of keys from her pocket. They clinked like prison keys. She opened the office door and motioned for Donna to enter while watching her with those bulging, bug eyes which didn't seem to blink. Donna stepped inside and swallowed a gasp. She'd been in this office several times before, but that had been when Mr. Anderson was the guidance counselor. Back then, the room featured plain, beige walls and a chunky file cabinet with the drawers always open and contents piling out. There had been a framed photo of Mr. Anderson’s family on the desk, which was stacked a foot tall with books, papers, and other notes. The windows and shades had been open to look out over the track field and there had been a poster just behind his desk that read, “SUCCESS COMES TO THOSE WHO APPLY FOR IT - APPLY TODAY!” The room used to smell like dust and cigarettes because Mr. Anderson smoked, usually in the office where he wasn't supposed to. But Mr. Anderson had disappeared just before classes started, and Ms. Schmill had arrived to take his place. Her use of the space had a decidedly different tone. For one thing, the dust and cigarette smell had been replaced by the odor of furniture polish and fresh leather. The blinds were drawn tight, defying anything to come in the room without permission. A light-starved Venus flytrap perched on a table, looking ready to bite the head off the first thing that got close. The freshly painted, stark white walls offset the black leather furniture and blood red carpet that matched Ms. Schmill’s shoes. Ms. Schmill's desk was well-preserved and tidy - a place where somebody might sit to deliver orders with razor-sharp precision. The whole room was immaculate, orderly. As if under Ms. Schmill's command, nothing dared to be out of place. Donna even imagined desperate secrets hiding like famished beasts underneath the desk. It was a compelling scene and a not altogether uncomfortable one, at least not to Donna, who wished her life made half this much sense.
Ms. Schmill smiled in a tight-lipped, cold way. “Do you like it?”
Without waiting for an answer, she pushed Donna deeper in the room and slammed the door shut behind them. Two pictures hung from the north wall. Donna recognized one immediately as “The Scream,” with its familiar terrified subject, mouth gaping wide in horror. The second picture showed two men standing at the opening of a fierce cave. “Are you familiar with these pieces?”
Donna pointed at the second one. “Not with this one.”
“It's titled 'Dante and Virgil at the Gates of Hell.’” Ms. Schmill's mouth opened wide and emphasized the word hell. “Look closer.” She placed a hand against Donna's back and nudged her nearer to the picture. “The devil is in the details. And aren't the details in this piece so vivid? Can you feel how the cave is prepared to swallow up anything that comes too close or gets too curious for its own good?”
Shivers went up Donna's spine. She backed away from the picture.
“Ye – yes, I see.”
“I knew you would, Donna. You're a clever young woman.” Ms. Schmill instructed Donna to sit in a chair near the ravenous plant. Donna sat cautiously, but felt like the seat cushions were swallowing her up. Why was everything in the office so hungry? Ms. Schmill folded her skinny limbs in the mahogany seat behind her pristine desk and stared at Donna, who shifted uneasily in the chair.
“Do you feel well or unwell today, Donna?”
“I feel well, thank you.” Her voice was small. Did Ms. Schmill ever blink?
“It has been brought to my attention that you have a boyfriend.”
How does she know about Hunter? Mo barely even knows. Besides, what business is it of hers anyhow?
“You know, Donna, you're at the age when young women can be very vulnerable. Especially young women like you.”
“Like me?” Sweat drained down Donna's back and soaked the leather chair.
“Yes, like you.” Ms. Schmill's elbows rested on the desk and her hands were pressed together with the fingers wide apart - like a praying mantis preparing to dine. “Young women who, despite their maturity in other areas, have never had intimate relationships. No serious ones, anyway. We cannot call your ex-boyfriend Matt very serious now, can we? Certainly, a young man who would cheat on you isn't that serious, right?” Shock waves shot through Donna with each syllable Ms. Schmill spewed. And, indeed, she still had not blinked. “Young men will tell you anything to get what they want. You simply must not believe anything they say. If one says you're the most wonderful, beautiful girl in the world, he's lying.” Donna choked. ”Do you understand what I am suggesting?” Ms. Schmill peered with unblinking eyes. “I'm suggesting you will be wise to focus on your studies and foolish to study the new young man who claims to love you.”
Donna cleared her throat, too astounded to speak.
“Well. Good then.” Ms. Schmill got to her feet and Donna followed. But when she attempted to open the door, Ms. Schmill's scarlet shoe blocked her. “Just remember, I have your best interests at heart.”
Donna doubted that, but she smiled politely and uttered “Thank you.” Ms. Schmill moved her foot and Donna hurried from the office, almost bumping right into Rochelle, who stood just outside the door. She carried a bag of food and a couple drinks. She looked a little less gorgeous than usual, though Donna couldn't place her finger on why.
So much for selling one's soul for eternal beauty.
“Did the counselor fix what's broken in you, Donna?” Rochelle laughed icily and then looked to Ms. Schmill. “Hi, Ms. Schmill. Are you ready for lunch?”
“Yes, come on in. I'm starved.” She emphasized “starved” like she had emphasized hell.
Rochelle pushed past Donna to enter Ms. Schmill's office then slammed the door shut. Almost immediately, a burst of cold laughter came from behind it.
Donna hurried to the cafeteria for a well-done burger and fries. Mo was nowhere around, so Donna texted her.
“Where r u?”
“Library.”
Donna gobbled her food and then rushed to the library. There was Mo, hair glowing like a neon lighthouse in an ocean of books.
“Hey Donna!” Mo waved and hollered. The owl-faced librarian hissed.
“Sorry,” Donna whispered to the librarian, who scowled in response. Donna hurried quietly to Mo who stood, tip-toed, on a foot stool. She pulled out a book from a high shelf. Its title was “The Truth About Vampires.”
“Come on.” Mo didn't notice that the color drained from Donna's face, or if she did, she didn't mention it. Instead, she motioned for Donna to follow her to the checkout desk where the librarian stared like she expected Mo's spiky hair to burst into flames at any second. When they emerged to the hallway, Mo snorted and rolled her eyes.
“That librarian is about as fun as melted tar.”
Donna's voice quivered. “What's up with the book?”
Mo shook the book at Donna, “It's about these disappearances our fearless law-and-order troops are doing nothing about. I think they're under the influence of mind control.” Mo scanned the hallway for eavesdroppers. “The more I look over the clues, the more I'm convinced our neighborhood kidnapper is not entirely human.”
“That's ridiculous.” Donna tried to sound convincing.
Mo's eyes widened. “No, it isn't. The kidnapper's a vampire who has the police force under his mind control spell. He's stealing those poor girls for their blood. The fact that he's choosing victims who match a certain type,” Mo glanced at Donna's hair, “suggests there's something about their looks that makes him target them - possibly intense hatred.” She raised an eyebrow at her friend and stuffed the book in her face. “It's in here. I don't want to be late to Ethics class again, so we'll talk later. And Donna, be careful.” Mo dashed away before Donna could tell her to do the same.
How in the hell did Mo get so close to the truth with so few of the facts?
chapter fourteen