CHAPTER
TWELVE
I HAD COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN about Luisa’s birthday.
Which made me feel like an awful best friend.
On Saturday night, she was having her Sweet Sixteen. We’d be going to the new teen-only dance club that had opened a few months ago. It was called Club Teen Scene, an embarrassing name, but we’d heard it was awesome, and Luisa was totally excited about it.
Before Luisa’s cousins and drama club friends were due to arrive, Katie and I went to her house and spent a couple of hours hanging out and getting ready. They made me laugh a lot, Luisa with her theatrical flourishes and Katie with her deadpan humor. I was surprised that I could laugh so much despite the weight on my mind. Maybe I was laughing because of it. After all the stress of the last few weeks, I needed an outlet.
After the other girls showed up, we ordered Chinese food, then had birthday cake. It felt wonderful to be normal again, and I tried not to let the idea of going out at night frighten me.
Luisa’s parents drove both of their cars to drop us off at the club. When we got in, I was impressed. The club was huge, with multicolored lights overhead. Luisa was in her element, immediately rushing out onto the dance floor and throwing her arms in the air. Katie and I followed, laughing. This was much better than our school dance had been. A huge screen at the front of the club showed the videos that went along with the music. Sometimes the DJ — or VJ, I guess — turned a camera on the crowd, and we could see ourselves dancing on the screen. Luisa loved it, and did her craziest moves whenever the camera swung our way.
After dancing for a while, Katie, myself, and two of Luisa’s cousins sat down at the tables in the back. I was having more fun than I’d thought possible, and Luisa, well, she was still going wild on the dance floor. The only thing missing was Alexander. I wished he had the luxury of taking a night off, of being a teenager for a change.
Too wired to keep sitting, I went to buy a soda.
“Hey.”
I turned to see a red-haired guy with a shy smile.
“You go to Ridgefield, right?” he asked.
“No.” The quickest way to let him know I wasn’t interested was to avoid direct eye contact. So, trying to look bored, I glanced over his shoulder toward the tables.
And I froze.
There was a guy sitting there — young and pale, silvery-blond hair.
“Something wrong?” the guy beside me asked.
I didn’t reply. I couldn’t.
It was him.
Vigo Skaar was sitting at one of the tables with a can of Red Bull. His eyes drifted over the room.
I ducked my head, moving behind the guy who was talking to me. If Vigo saw me, he’d see my fear, and he’d know I recognized him.
It surprised me that Vigo’s face didn’t look cunning, or evil. It was boyish. An innocent face.
The guy next to me was talking again. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed, still positioning myself between his shoulders.
Alexander’s phone rang. Once. Twice. Please, please, answer the phone!
Three times. Four.
The voice mail picked up. The customer who has subscribed cannot —
I hung up. Dialed again.
Alexander’s line rang again. And rang. And rang.
With shaky fingers, I texted him: vigo here. club teen scene. 101 adams st.
The police. I had to call the police. And then I had to get my friends out of here.
I hurried to the bathroom and called 911.
“I’m at Club Teen Scene.” I hardly recognized my voice. I sounded hysterical. “The vampire killer is here!”
“Miss, calm down, has anyone been hurt?”
“No, not yet. Please hurry!”
“How do you know he’s the vampire killer, miss?”
“I—” I didn’t know how to answer that. “He has these fangs. I know it’s him. Please send the police now!”
“Don’t worry. They’ll be there soon.”
She believed me. My panic said it all.
“Where is the suspect now, miss? Can you describe him for me?”
“Silver-blond hair, black jacket, looks about eighteen. He’s at the tables at the back. Hurry, please! I have to go. My friends are in there.”
I hung up. Alexander still hadn’t called back. Where was he? By the time he saw my text, it would be too late.
I forced myself to walk, not run, out of the bathroom. I felt my heartbeat thumping louder than the bass. Vigo hadn’t moved. He was sitting in the midst of about twenty potential victims, all drinking their sodas and chatting away with no idea who was watching them. Katie was among them, and so were Luisa’s cousins.
I went up to their table, grabbing Katie’s hand. “There’s a fight going on outside — it’s crazy stuff, you guys have to see it!”
They needed no more encouragement, and headed for the door. I went with them, but stopped to grab the sleeve of a security guard in the doorway.
“Don’t look now,” I muttered, “but there’s a guy at the back tables who I think is the vampire killer. He’s the blond one drinking Red Bull. He’s wearing fangs.”
The security guy, skinny and not much older than twenty-one, scowled. “If this is a joke —”
“It’s not. Are there more security people around?”
“Yes.” As he reached for his radio, I stepped in front of him so that Vigo wouldn’t see. “He could look over and see you. Call from outside.”
It took no convincing. He went outside and got on his radio.
“Ames! I don’t see—” I heard Katie calling, but I ignored her. I had to get Luisa out of there, so I headed toward the dance floor, watching Vigo out of the corner of my eye.
I saw him move. He was slowly getting up from the table, his eyes focused on a trio of girls. I knew he was going to strike.
He lunged, his black jacket spreading out like wings behind him. I screamed.
From another direction, someone else lunged, slamming into Vigo, sending him sprawling across the table.
It took me a second to realize that it was Alexander.
A wall of people ran toward the fight, and I had to jump out of the way to avoid getting knocked down.
Alexander slammed Vigo’s head into the table. Vigo kicked and writhed like a wildcat, not giving Alexander the chance to free one hand to grab the stake.
Two cops rushed in, guns drawn. Vigo stilled under Alexander and turned his head to the side, sobbing like a child.
Alexander used the moment to pull out his stake. He raised it.
“Drop it or we’ll shoot!”
The cops weren’t going to shoot Vigo, I realized. They were going to shoot Alexander.
I jumped in front of them. “No!”
I heard a shout, and then something hard slammed into me. And I was out.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
IN THE STILLNESS OF my bedroom, something had changed. I wasn’t alone. The gray mist of dawn lightened the window shades. My eyes swam into focus. Alexander was there, sitting on the edge of my bed. His shirt was blood-spattered, his hair messed up.
Last night came rushing back to me: Vigo. The police. Alexander knocking me out of the way. How I’d blacked out for a minute after falling to the ground, and then opened my eyes to see Alexander being restrained by the police … and Vigo gone. Luisa and Katie had helped me up and rushed me out, frantic. Luisa called her parents so they could pick us up and take me straight home. I’d been in a daze, barely able to make sense of anything.
“I’m sorry to have wakened you,” Alexander whispered. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“I’m fine,” I said, sitting up. I’d never been so happy to see someone. “Did you break out of jail?”
“There was no need. Once you left, I broke free of the police and went after Vigo. But he was long gone.”
“I can’t figure out how you got there so fast.”
Alexander set his jaw. “I
had already tracked Vigo to the club. He had lined up with everyone else, bold as brass. I had to find an alternate entrance. I ended up having to enter through a third-story window.”
“I don’t understand it. Why would he attack with so many people around?”
“He wanted to make a scene. A horrific scene.” Even in the shadows of my bedroom, I didn’t miss the hard glint in his eyes. “You almost got yourself killed, Amy.”
“Me? What about you?”
“I was poised to kill Vigo.”
“And the police were about to shoot you. If I hadn’t jumped in —”
“If you hadn’t jumped in, Vigo would be dead. I had to let him go in order to prevent you from being shot.”
“You think you could have staked him before they shot you?”
“Yes.”
“But as soon as you drove the stake into him, they would’ve opened fire on you!”
“Very likely.”
I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. “And that would’ve been okay?”
“Vigo would be dead, and that is all that matters. I would have fulfilled my destiny.”
“It’s not your destiny to die!” I said it with such force that my head throbbed.
“How can you know that?”
“I just do. That’s why I stepped in.”
“Vigo knows about you now,” Alexander said quietly.
I pictured Vigo, and felt a stab of fear. His skin was smooth and pale, so pale that he’d reminded me of a sick little boy, someone you’d want to comfort, not run from. I’d seen him play the helpless card when Alexander had been about to stake him. How many people who had helped Vigo had paid with their lives?
“He doesn’t necessarily know that I know you, right?” I asked, hearing the tremor in my voice. “I … I could’ve just been some person not wanting to see anyone get shot.”
“You jumped in front of police with their weapons drawn. He knows, Amy.”
I glanced toward the window. “He can’t come in, right?” I remembered my dream about letting the vampires in, and shivered.
“Unless he is invited, he can’t come in. Let your mother and Chrissy know that they are not to let a stranger into the apartment under any circumstances.”
I nodded, and Alexander watched me for a moment. I suddenly felt self-conscious in my thin T-shirt and pajama bottoms, my hair wild around my shoulders.
“You put your life on the line last night,” Alexander said softly. He searched my face. “Why, Amy? Why would you do such a thing?”
Tears filled my eyes. “You know why.”
“No, I don’t know.”
I swallowed hard.”Your love is your greatest vulnerability,” Alexander had said to James in Otherworld. The truth of his words struck me then. I loved Alexander — not the character anymore, but the real person. I’d known it ever since that evening on the rocky riverbank. And I was more afraid than ever that something bad would happen to him.
I spoke before I could stop myself.
“I love you, okay?”
He looked stunned. “You love me.”
I dropped my eyes. My heart was beating erratically. “Yes.”
“You don’t have to look away, Amy.”
I raised my eyes, dashing away tears with my knuckles. “I don’t have any more to say about it, so please forget it.”
“I will. But just one thing.”
He leaned into me, and his lips closed over mine. For a moment I was too shocked to respond. Alexander Banks was kissing me. Was this a dream?
My lips parted, and I kissed him back. His hand slid into my hair, bringing me closer.
This definitely wasn’t a dream. His kiss was nothing like the tender, romantic kisses of my fantasies. It was better. I could feel the roughness of his stubble against my cheek. I tasted a ravenous hunger inside him that matched my own.
When he finally pulled back, I saw a burning look in his eyes. We didn’t speak for a while as we both tried to regain the control we’d lost.
“Forgive me,” Alexander said.
I wanted him to kiss me again, but I wasn’t sure I could speak. Or move.
He reached out, as if to touch my face, then dropped his hand. “I must go.” He stood up, and left the room.
When I awoke again, it was almost noon, and someone was knocking on my door.
Mom peeked in. “How are you feeling?”
For a second, all I could think about was Alexander’s kiss. And I realized, with a sense of wonder, that I felt happy — happier than I’d ever been.
But that wasn’t the answer Mom expected. I’d come in last night, pale and shaky, and told her I wasn’t feeling well as an excuse for not sleeping at Luisa’s.
“Much better,” I said, yawning. “I think I was just overtired.”
“What happened last night?” Mom asked, looking concerned. “A few of your friends called this morning asking how you were doing. Luisa said there was an incident at the club and you got caught in the middle.”
“It’s not a big deal. Just a stupid fight. I got knocked down.” I saw Chrissy hovering in the doorway, curious, if not concerned. When she realized that I had spotted her, she straightened and walked away.
“Let me bring you breakfast in bed,” Mom said. “Pancakes? Waffles with bananas?”
“I’m not hungry yet. But thanks, Mom.”
She kissed the top of my head.
I got up to go to the bathroom, then came back and checked my messages. They were all from the girls, pelting question after question.
I called Luisa.
“Ames! Oh my God, how are you?”
“I’m okay.”
“What happened? None of us understand. Katie said that you told her a fight had started outside. Next thing I know Alexander’s beating up some guy in the middle of the club and then he’s getting arrested!”
“He didn’t get arrested. The cops went after the wrong person. Some guy randomly started hitting people. Alexander helped the cops take him down.”
“Are you sure? Amy, be honest with me. Has Alexander been stalking you or something? Is that why he showed up last night?”
“No. It was nothing like that. I told him he could meet up with us at the club. Anyway, I’m so sorry your Sweet Sixteen got ruined.”
“My birthday didn’t get ruined. For once I was actually there when something exciting happened. I’m just sorry you got banged up.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
When we hung up, I sat back against my pillow. I wished I could stop lying to my friends. One lie always seemed to need more lies to back it up. And the troubling part was, I was becoming better at it, quicker. It wasn’t exactly a skill I’d been hoping to develop.
But if I was becoming a better liar, how could I have let the truth slip to Alexander? I still couldn’t believe I’d told him I loved him. I hadn’t meant to. It wasn’t like me to speak without thinking. But the words had just slipped out. Why?
It was a good question. But the question that really drove me crazy was: Why had he kissed me?
Luisa must have relayed the message that I was okay and needed my rest, because no one called again. Tomorrow I’d face more questions at school, but I wasn’t going to worry about it. I had plenty of other things to worry about.
Midafternoon, I was flipping through a magazine on the living room sofa, still obsessing over the kiss, when there was a knock at the front door.
“I’ll get it!” Chrissy said, running out of her room.
“No, wait!” Panicked, I jumped off the sofa, beating her to the door. “We didn’t buzz anyone in.”
“So? It’s easy to get in the building.” She looked through the peephole. “Oh.” She went back to her room.
I looked through, then opened the door. “Hey, Katie.”
She didn’t come in. I could tell something was wrong. She never looked this serious.
“We’ve got to talk.” She glanced behind me, spotting my mo
m in the kitchen. “Maybe we should go somewhere and get coffee?”
“Sure.” I got my wallet and a hoodie. A quick check of the clock told me it was almost three — plenty of time before sunset.
The elevator was crowded, but we squeezed in. Two old ladies with hearing aids were talking loudly about how kids these days were all messed up and into weird cultish stuff and no wonder there was a vampire murderer out there.
Outside, the afternoon sky was overcast. Gusts of wind stirred the sidewalk litter. There weren’t many kids out. They were probably snuggled on couches watching Disney movies.
Katie thrust her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “Should we head to Starbucks?”
“I don’t need anything. You?”
“Nah. Let’s not bother, then.”
We went to a nearby school yard, grabbed a free bench. A group of guys were playing basketball, and I couldn’t help but think of the poor teens who’d been murdered while playing ball last week.
Katie turned to me. “I need the truth.”
“The truth about what?”
“Last night. Everything. First, you’re rushing us out of the club with some excuse about a fight outside. There was no fight outside. Next thing I know, there’s a brawl going on between Alexander and Vigo.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I was watching through the window. Those guys looked exactly like them. Alexander had a stake, and he was about to kill Vigo when you jumped in front of the cops. Did I imagine all that?”
My stomach tightened and I looked down. I wasn’t sure what to say.
“You need to tell me the truth. Or tell me I’m insane. Just tell me something.”
I wasn’t going to tell her she was insane, not after all she’d witnessed. And she was one of my best friends. It was time I told her the truth.
And so I did. I told her everything, the words coming out in a flood. I started with the night I’d been attacked by Vigo, and explained how Alexander had convinced me he was real. I told her all about Ms. P.’s theory, and even the trip to New York City to meet Elizabeth Howard. I only left out the part about Alexander kissing me in my room, and my profession of love.