Temptation

Turning his eyes to the sky, he saw the flickering forms of bats hovering over the island. And as he drew closer, the fluttering of their wings drowned out the rush of the water, the wind, drowned out all other sounds, even the sounds of his own breathing.

  There were hundreds and hundreds of bats, he saw, fluttering noisily, swooping and darting over the trees, filling the sky, buzzing and cluttering, nearly as thick as a swarm of bees.

  Drawing near to the island, Matt spotted a small dock tucked into the tree-laden shore. A rowboat—April’s rowboat—bobbed at one side.

  Empty.

  He pulled his boat to the dock, leapt out without bothering to tie the boat up, and looked around. A narrow dirt path curved through the trees.

  Matt had started down the path when he realized he was carrying one of the oars. My only weapon, he thought as a chill of renewed dread pulsed down his spine. He crouched down as he hurried through the trees, bending away from the relentless fluttering above his head, the flapping wings, the shrill whistles that echoed through the woods.

  The low, shingled beach house at the end of the path was completely dark. As Matt drew near, he saw that the windows had no glass.

  Bats swooped over the low, angled roof. A bat hovered by one window, just inches from Matt’s face, then fluttered away with a shrill cry.

  Leaning against the oar, holding it firmly with both hands, Matt peered into the window. It was pitch-black inside, blacker than the night. He couldn’t see a thing.

  Having no choice, he transferred the oar to one hand, lifted a leg over the windowsill, and lowered himself into the house.

  It smelled so musty in there, even with all the windows open.

  Musty and . . . dead.

  He gasped from the foul smell, then forced himself to breathe normally.

  Waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, he stood still, the fluttering of bat wings from outside following him into the house.

  The room came into focus. A long, narrow room. A bedroom without a bed.

  And then he saw April.

  Against one wall. Slumped in an oversize armchair. Her head down on the large padded arm of the chair.

  She’s dead, he thought, hurrying to her, bending over the chair.

  He’s killed her.

  But, no. He heard her soft breath, wheezing slightly, her lips parted.

  Still alive.

  Still alive—but what has Gabri done to her?

  Outside, the fluttering suddenly grew louder, nearer. The room darkened as if bats were covering the window, shutting out all light.

  What was that against the opposite wall, away from the window?

  Was it a bed?

  Matt turned away from April, squinting against the darkness, leaning against the oar, trying to think over the relentless flapping, the maddening fluttering, the flickering of the dim light—and realized that he was staring at a coffin.

  Its lid closed tightly, the smooth-wooded coffin was set against the wall.

  “Oh!”

  Matt realized his entire body was trembling. He grasped the oar tighter, steadying himself against it.

  The fluttering seemed to fade, then grow louder. He pictured the bats sweeping the sky over the house, preparing to attack through the paneless windows.

  “April, we’ve got to get out of here,” he said in a quavering voice that barely escaped his throat.

  He hurried back across the room to April and grabbed her by both shoulders. “April? April?”

  She shuddered but didn’t open her eyes.

  “April?” He shook her a little harder.

  Again she shuddered, but her head slumped back onto the arm of the chair.

  He picked up her head, tried to pry open her eyes, shook her by the shoulders again.

  “April—wake up! Wake up!” His cries were choked by his fear. “April—please! We have to get out of here!”

  April stirred.

  Her eyes opened slowly. She stared at him groggily. “Huh? Matt?” She tried to focus, but quickly gave up and closed her eyes again.

  “April—”

  Matt felt a presence behind him. A heavy presence.

  He turned—and cried out as Gabri advanced.

  Fangs sliding down his chin, his mouth wide in open glee, his eyes glowing red with fury, Gabri lunged forward to attack.

  CHAPTER 27 MATT DIES

  “Nooooooooo!”

  Matt didn’t even realize that the hideous shriek that roared through the long room came from his own throat.

  With an animal grunt, Gabri lunged at Matt, fangs plunging toward Matt’s neck.

  Matt wheeled around in terror.

  He didn’t have time to think. He didn’t have time to make a plan.

  Reflexively, he turned, pulled his arm back, and thrust the oar handle forward toward his attacking foe.

  Gabri ran right into it.

  With a sickening, wet crack, the oar handle punctured his chest.

  Gabri’s eyes bulged, their flame extinguished.

  He opened his mouth to cry out, and a gray moth fluttered out.

  The moth floated up to the ceiling, then out the open window.

  Gabri’s eyes closed. His head tilted back.

  And as Matt stared in horror, Gabri’s body collapsed to the floor, folding like an accordion. His eyes stared lifelessly up at Matt, and Gabri’s face began to crumble, the skin drying and peeling, flaking to powder until the entire skull was revealed.

  And then the skull too disintegrated. Fell apart and crumbled.

  Matt continued to gape in disbelief until Gabri’s dark clothes lay crumpled on the floor, empty except for a low pile of gray ashes. A gust of wind from the window fluttered the ashes, causing most of the pile to scatter.

  “Oh!”

  Matt finally found his voice.

  “April—” he called, turning back to her on the chair.

  “April—are you awake? Let’s go! Hurry!”

  “Where are you going?” a girl’s voice—not April’s—called.

  Matt held up his hands as if to shield himself as Jessica stepped in front of him. Her hair floated over her shoulders. Her face was twisted in anger.

  “Jessica—leave us alone!” he screamed in a terror-filled voice he didn’t recognize.

  She tossed back her head and laughed, a loud, scornful laugh.

  “Jessica—please! Let us go!” Matt cried.

  Without replying, she uttered a growl, grabbed Matt’s face tightly with both hands—such cold, cold hands—and buried her fangs in Matt’s throat.

  I’m dead, Matt thought, helplessly sinking, feeling the pain of her deadly bite.

  I’m dead now.

  CHAPTER 28 FAILURE

  Feeling the pain course down his neck and through his entire body, Matt closed his eyes, sinking, sinking under the weight of Jessica’s fangs.

  I’m dying now, he thought helplessly.

  You win, Jessica. As you knew you would.

  Then, to his surprise, the pain lifted.

  He cried out, startled, opening his eyes, trying to focus through the blur of motion in front of him.

  Jessica was no longer gripping his head in her frozen hands; her fangs were no longer in his throat.

  A struggle across the room. Groans and cries. Shifting, wrestling, grappling bodies.

  Finally it all came into focus.

  “April!” he cried, falling back against the wall, trying to stand up, to regain his balance.

  April had revived and pulled Jessica from him.

  Now the two of them were wrestling by the window, scratching at each other, pulling hair, grabbing and hitting, crying out their desperation.

  Feeling a little steadier, Matt took a step away from the wall. He stumbled back, the room tilting. The crackling flutter of bats grew louder, louder, until the sound seemed to be coming from his own head.

  “No!” he cried, holding his hands over his ears.

  The fluttering faded.

  He couldn
’t just stand there defeated. He had to help April.

  Jessica was overpowering her frail foe, shoving April hard against the frame of the open window, pushing her chin with one hand, holding her head down with the other. Jessica opened her mouth in a victorious grin, her slender, pointed fangs sliding down her chin.

  April cried out as Jessica lowered her head to bite.

  What can I do? Matt wondered, his eyes darting frantically around the dark room.

  What can I do?

  I have to act—now!

  Spotting the oar, still resting on top of Gabri’s wrinkled heap of clothes, he grabbed it up, turned the handle toward Jessica—and charged.

  She ducked under it easily, reaching a hand up and pulling the oar out of Matt’s grasp with inhuman strength.

  Startled, Matt fell back as Jessica heaved the oar out the open window. Then she turned back to April, pressing her back against the window frame, her fangs lowering to April’s pale throat.

  Gasping for air, Matt stared in horror. His mind whirred faster than the room.

  He had to save April. But how?

  Fire, he thought.

  Fire kills vampires.

  And with that thought, he remembered the plastic butane lighter in his pocket. Todd’s lighter.

  Thank you, Todd, Matt thought. Thank you. Thank you.

  His hand trembling, he jammed it into his jeans pocket and pulled out the lighter.

  Thank you, Todd.

  Thank you for rescuing us.

  “Jessica!” Matt shouted. “Jessica!”

  Inches from April’s throat, Jessica turned her eyes to Matt.

  His chest heaving, his hand trembling, Matt lurched forward and thrust the lighter in Jessica’s startled face.

  She cried out in horror as he nicked the lighter.

  “Oh!”

  No flame.

  Matt flicked it again.

  No flame.

  The lighter didn’t work.

  CHAPTER 29 LOSERS

  Staring at the lighter in Matt’s trembling hand, Jessica snickered, her eyes glowing triumphantly. “You’re both losers,” she sneered.

  Tossing her hair behind one shoulder, she turned back to April.

  Losers, Matt repeated to himself, squeezing the lighter.

  And now we’re going to lose our lives.

  In frustration, he flicked the lighter one more time.

  This time it caught. A bright yellow flame shot up.

  Jessica screamed as the flame caught her hair.

  Slapping frantically at her head as the flames spread, Jessica leapt back, away from April, who scrambled, dazed, from the window.

  “Aaaiiiiiii!” Jessica’s scream filled the air as the flames ringed her head. Her wild cry faded only when her face began to melt, rivulets of skin dripping down like a burning wax candle.

  The air in the room filled with smoke and a sour, sulfuric smell.

  Matt and April stared in horrified disbelief as the flames raged over Jessica’s head, as she slowly melted, her skin sagging, dripping, wet chunks dropping off under the heat of the flames.

  Jessica’s outraged expression disappeared as her face caved in. Her skull was aflame, melting as her face had, and the fire spread to her shoulders, crackling loudly.

  Headless, she slumped to the floor in a fiery puddle. The fire consumed her body in less than a minute.

  And then the floor was on fire.

  And the fire had spread to the walls.

  And the coffin was burning, the rising red and yellow flames performing a sprightly dance over the smooth wooden lid.

  Matt stared at the flames as if hypnotized. In the flickering, orange glare he could see that April was frozen there too, her eyes wide, catching the darting, leaping light, her mouth locked in a tight O of terror and astonishment.

  The walls, the ceiling, the furniture, the coffin—all burned under the leaping red flames, so bright, so exciting, crackling so loudly; the fluttering sound, the sound of the hundreds of bat wings overhead, had finally disappeared.

  “April?” Matt called as the flames encircled them.

  Staring into the red and yellow glare, she didn’t respond.

  “April. We have to get out of here!”

  He leapt over a line of low flames on the floor and grabbed her hand. His touch seemed to snap her out of her spell.

  “Huh? Matt? We’re okay?”

  “Yes, we’re okay!” he cried, pulling her through the open doorway.

  And now they were in the cool, fresh air.

  And now the house, consumed in flames, collapsed behind them.

  And now April was rushing into Matt’s arms, throwing her arms around him tightly, pressing her hot cheek against his.

  “Matt,” she sighed, holding him close, “I’ll never make fun of your horror movies again!”

  CHAPTER 30 THE HAPPY ENDING

  A few nights later Matt walked with his arm around April’s shoulder on the curving path toward town.

  “I feel much better,” Matt said softly, kicking at a clump of sand. “How about you?”

  “Much better,” April said, reaching up to her shoulder to squeeze his hand affectionately. “What a dreadful summer,” she added.

  “The worst,” he said, trying to force back the wave of painful memories that kept invading his mind, returning relentlessly like the tides.

  “I don’t think we’ll ever be the same,” April said in a soft, regretful whisper.

  “Yeah,” he quickly agreed. “I didn’t think I’d ever say it, but I can’t wait to get back to Shadyside.”

  “Me too,” April replied, tilting near, brushing his cheek with her soft, golden hair.

  They walked on for a while in comfortable silence. Then, as the beach cottages gave way to the large, grassy field before town, a large gray rabbit hopped boldly across the path.

  “He thinks he owns the place,” Matt joked—and then stopped, letting go of April’s shoulder.

  As the rabbit crossed, Matt spotted something in the dirt.

  “Whoa,” he said, bending down to retrieve it.

  “What is it?” April asked curiously.

  “Look,” Matt said. He held up her silver cross. “Is this the cross you lost?”

  “Oh, just leave it there,” April said casually, turning away.

  “Huh?” Matt wasn’t sure he had heard right. “But, April—”

  “Just drop it,” she insisted sharply.

  Confused by her request, Matt obediently dropped the cross and chain back to the grassy field.

  As he stepped away from it, April turned back to him, reached up and grabbed his shoulders with surprising strength, and bared her fangs, slender and pale in the light of the half moon.

  “No—” Matt protested, struggling without success to free himself from her powerful grasp.

  She chuckled, staring deeply into his eyes.

  “But, April—” he insisted, panic gripping his throat. “It—you—can’t be! Back on the island, you—you saved my life!”

  “I know,” April said softly, smiling at him behind her ivorylike fangs. “Why should Jessica have all the nectar? I was saving you for me!”

  Holding him tightly, she forced back his head and bit deeply, thirstily into his tender, throbbing throat.

  GOODNIGHT KISS 2

  PROLOGUE A NICE TIME

  A pale moon floated high over the beach at Sandy Hollow as Diana walked beside Eric. The wet sand felt cold under her feet. Diana took Eric’s hand. “I love the beach at night,” she murmured.

  “Huh? What did you say?” Eric asked. He seemed distracted.

  “Nothing. Come on.” Pulling him toward the waves that broke gently on the sand, Diana began to walk faster.

  The beach is so peaceful at night, she thought. So perfect for what I must do.

  The stars gleamed, silvery against the clear black sky. It was at least an hour before dawn. Diana had plenty of time.

  She studied Eric’s face. His hair w
as black and shaggy, his eyes dark and serious. Her gaze lingered on his throat, on the smooth flesh just below his jaw.

  Any moment now, she thought. Any moment.

  “It’s late,” Eric said. “I really should go home.”

  “Not afraid of the dark, are you?” Diana teased.

  “Of course not.”

  “Then what’s the hurry?”

  “I had a crazy day. I’d like to get a little sleep before the sun comes up.”

  Diana stopped walking and peered down the dark beach. “Look!” she cried. “Someone left a beach umbrella. Let’s sit down. Just for a minute?”

  “But it’s so late,” Eric protested.

  Diana hurried to the umbrella and dropped onto the sand beneath it. “Come on,” she urged. “We’ve got our own private spot.”

  Eric joined her. She pulled him to her and kissed him. Just once. Quickly. His lips felt cool on hers. As cool as the night air.

  “I really have to get home,” Eric whispered.

  “You’re not going home, Eric.”

  For a moment, he said nothing, his face a frozen silhouette against the star-filled sky. “What are you talking about?” he finally asked.

  “I brought you here to die.”

  He laughed. “Is this a joke?”

  “No, Eric. It’s no joke. A vampire murdered my cousin last summer. She wasn’t just my cousin, Eric. She was also my best friend. I want all vampires to die.”

  Eric’s fangs slid down. “You lose,” he snarled.

  “No. You lose,” Diana snapped.

  His eyes glowed with rage and hunger. He reached for her.

  Diana rolled away. She yanked the beach umbrella from the sand. The special umbrella she had made for tonight.

  Eric came after her, moonlight flashing in his eyes.

  The umbrella top slid across the sand as Diana yanked the pole off.

  “I can already taste your blood, the sweet nectar!” Eric proclaimed.

  “Don’t count on it,” Diana replied.

  Eric groaned as she jammed the pole’s sharp wooden tip through his heart. His eyes bulged wide in shock. “No!” he gasped. “No. You can’t!”

  He collapsed onto the sand.

  The glow in his eyes faded.