Authors: Mari Mancusi
“And welcome to our new recruits as well,” Pyrus purrs, his eyes seeming to rove the audience. “You are the best of the best. Hand chosen by our experts for your superior DNA and high-level IQ. I am certain each and every one of you will make fine additions to your new covens, and become loyal servants to the Worldwide Vampire Consortium for all eternity.”
A spattering of applause ripples through the crowd. Eager mortals who have no idea what they’re actually clapping for
cheer for the man on the screen. As I sit there, listening to Pyrus drone on about responsibility and dedication, a feeling of dread and realization starts creeping into my bones.
Right now I’m the only one on earth who knows what this vampire is capable of. What will happen if his reign is allowed to continue unchecked. Well, my sister and I, that is. We’re the only ones who know how much damage he can cause if allowed to stay in power.
So even putting aside the whole selfish I-want-Magnus-as-my-boyfriend-again thing, how can we rightly sit back and go on living normal lives, forgetting vampires exist, when Pyrus is still in charge? Sure, if we stay out of it, he won’t be coming after us. Or maybe not even the Blood Coven. But judging from his track record, he’s bound to hurt someone else instead.
We can’t let him do that.
Pyrus says something randomly inspirational, everyone claps again, and the video fades to black. The doors open up and blood donors start wheeling out plastic torsos to each vampire, like it’s a CPR class or something. I guess you practice on dummies before you start on the real dummies. The ones who think becoming one of Pyrus’s people is actually a good idea.
But I have no time to play these reindeer games. I have to find my sister. I rise from the pew, turning to Magnus with a regretful smile. “I’m sorry,” I say. “Can we take a rain check on the bite? There’s something I have to do.”
I
should probably stay home and play video games tonight. After all, I no longer have my vampire-certification class to go to. And Sunny’s not home, probably off celebrating her team’s field hockey victory or something. So it stands to reason that I should stay home and load up my computer, right? Maybe offer up some futuristic video game leetness to my fellow players of the past? I can just imagine their faces when I totally rock that World of Warcraft dungeon no one in this time period has been able to master yet. And maybe I’d even score that amazing one-handed fire sword that the last boss ends up dropping sometimes.
Or I could always hang out with Mom, I suppose. Spend some quality time with her and take advantage of the fact that she’s lazing around on our couch in flannel pajamas instead of
off in another dimension, playing high queen to the Fairyland Light Court. It might be nice, actually, to curl up with her under the afghan, diving into a carton of dairy-free ice cream with an extra large spoon and watching the latest episodes of our favorite TV shows.
I should do either of those things. Or, you know, something else completely normal and ordinary and vampire free. I made a promise to Sunny, after all. And besides, what good is a second chance if you start doing the same things you did the first time around?
But try as I might, I can’t seem to bring myself to turn on the computer and search for a party. Or plop down on the couch and content myself with television. Maybe it’s because I know that the so-called amazing one-handed fire sword I might score will be practically worthless in a few months after the powers-that-be update the game. Or because while spending time with Mom is always nice, everything on TV is bound to be a repeat for me.
So instead, against my better judgment, I find myself opening up my closet and rummaging through, selecting a red-and-black Goth Loli dress with matching red cape and black platform boots. After donning the outfit, I head into the bathroom to make up my face with my favorite white powder, kohl eyeliner, and bloodred lipstick. Gothing it up to go out.
I have to say, it’s so weird looking at my reflection in the mirror and seeing a blond girl staring back at me. I look so much like Sunny, even with the makeup on—no wonder Magnus wasn’t able to tell us apart on that fateful night. I vow to
swing by the twenty-four-hour drugstore on the way home and buy a bottle of black dye. Mom will kill me all over again for doing it, but it’s a punishment worth undergoing twice if only to stand out again.
I ask Mom for the keys to her Prius, as Sunny took the Volkswagen Bug we share, and then head outside to start the car. My hands are already shaking when I turn the key in the ignition and I have no idea what kind of shape I’ll end up being in when I reach my forbidden destination.
Yes, I’m heading to Club Fang. A venue I should definitely not be spending quality time at, seeing as it’s totally a vampire hangout and I’ve just finished lecturing Sunny about how we must strive to live a vampire-free existence from here on out.
But how can I stay away? As much as I know I should. How can I go back on the promise I’d made to Jareth down in Hades after admitting I had to leave him? I’d promised to find him again and make him fall in love with me, no matter what I had to do. And I wasn’t about to break that promise, even if the current Jareth in this time period has no idea I’d made it…or even who I am to begin with.
But whatever. I’ll make it work. Someway. Somehow…
After parking in back, I pay my five dollars to the man standing at the door and head upstairs to the club itself. By day the space serves as a meeting spot for the Knights of Columbus, but you’d never know it now. The smoke machines work overtime and the strobe lights flash around the room as the walls reverberate from the heavy bass blasting from the speakers. The DJ is sitting behind a black cage, spinning my favorite Sisters of
Mercy tune, “Temple of Love,” and the dance floor is packed with a mixture of mortals and vampires, all swaying intently to the beat. High above, TV screens soundlessly replay old vampire movie clips and the walls are draped with white sheets, flittering over strategically placed fans. God, I missed this place. It’s like a real-life Fangtasia from
True Blood
, except for the absence of hot Sheriff Northman holding court in the back.
Which is fine by me. I’ve got another vampire in mind tonight.
I scan the crowd, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. It feels weird to have a beating heart at all, never mind one so active. I’d kind of forgotten what it was like to be human, after spending so many months undead. To feel so frail and weak. Even when I was a gimped vampire, because of the blood virus in my veins, I still felt a lot more, well, immortal, than I do now. At the moment I feel like a light wind could blow me over and a vampire could take me down with his little pinkie. It’s a good thing I’m only here to flirt, not slay.
Speaking of flirting…My gaze falls upon a solitary figure in the center of the dance floor, illuminated by a single spotlight. My breath catches in my throat. Could it be?
Yes, I realize as I trace his silhouette with eager eyes. Without a shadow of a doubt.
It’s Jareth.
He looks even more beautiful than I remembered him. So elegant, dressed in black leather pants, black boots, and billowing white shirt. His cheekbones are like cut glass and in the dim
club lights his beautiful emerald eyes seem to glow in the dark. I stare in awe and delight, taking in his smooth, fluid movements on the dance floor, as graceful as the most graceful of cats. If he were a contestant on
Dancing with the Vamps
, he’d be a first-place winner for sure.
As I watch, it’s all I can do to hang back. To stop myself from running up to him and accosting him with wild abandon, wrapping my arms around him and squeezing him tight as tears roll down my cheeks. But I check myself instead. If I want this to work—if I really want a second chance—I have to play it cool. To him, we’ll be strangers, meeting for the first time. If I go all Stage Five Clinger on him right away, he’ll go screaming off into the night and I’ll lose my chance forever. Sure, it may take some time for him to warm up to me again, but I know if I do this right, it’ll happen. After all, we’re destined to be together. To become blood mates for all eternity. If I screw that up, well, I’m not sure how I’d be able to live with myself—by myself—forever.
My feet feel like lead as I force them to take steps onto the dance floor, dodging other dancers until I somehow manage to reach the center of the room. I’m two feet from him now and suddenly frozen into place. What do I say? What’s my opening line? My tongue ties into knots and my brain refuses to work and I realize I should have come up with a better plan before I made my move. Or, you know, any plan at all.
I start to step backward, to retreat, but at that moment the DJ mixes into a rousing VNV Nation tune. The crowd roars in
approval and an albino girl beside me, dressed from head to toe in Victorian steampunk, leaps in excitement, inadvertently shoving me straight into Jareth himself.
Well, that’s one way to make an entrance. In fact, maybe this is just the opening I need. I’ll fall into his strong arms, he’ll reach out to catch me. He won’t be able to help but feel the electric spark from our touch. And as he helps me gently back to my feet, he’ll wonder why he has the strangest feeling that he knows me from somewhere. Somewhere deep in the recesses of time. Shocked, he’ll grip me tighter, searching deep into my eyes, and he’ll say—
“Do you mind removing your clodhopping boot from my foot?”
O-kay then. Not exactly the romantic speech I had in mind. Face flaming, I try to regain my balance without the help, I might add, of those aforementioned, strong, electricity-sparking arms. So much for chivalry. Or recognition. In fact, the only look he’s giving me right now is one that suggests he’s thinking about knocking me down all over again.
“Sorry about that,” I say quickly, finding my center and brushing myself off. I look up at him, offering him my most charming smile. “It’s crowded in here tonight, don’t you think?”
“Not really,” he says stiffly, before starting to turn away.
On instinct I grab his arm, not wanting to lose him now, now that I’ve got my opening, however small. He turns slowly back to me, giving my hand a deliberate look. I sheepishly let go of his shirt. This is not going well, is it?
“Um, do you come here often?” I blurt out, the only thing
that comes to my mind at short notice. Which just happens to be about the most unoriginal cliché thing that could come to mind in a circumstance like this. I’m so giving up my improv card.
He raises an eyebrow. “What does it matter to you if I do or I do not?”
Ugh. My smile falters at his rude reply. I guess I’d conveniently forgotten Jareth wasn’t exactly Mr. Sunshine before he fell in love with me and learned it was okay to open up and share his feelings. In fact, now that I remember it, he could be a real jerk. And there was a time when I hated him more than anyone on earth, including that annoying girl from the T-Mobile commercials.
Of course nowadays I understand why he acted so emo. I mean, you try being all Pollyanna after losing your entire family to a Slayer Inc. attack. No wonder he refused a blood mate for so many years—not wanting to risk the pain of losing someone he loved all over again. He even refused blood donors, preferring to get his blood by mail order rather than risk becoming too close to another living soul who could someday die.
And so, until he met me, he chose to walk the world alone. A solitary, noble figure, rising above the petty trappings of relationships and—
“Hey, baby!”
My eyes widen as the most tacky Goth girl I’ve ever seen in the history of sight pushes me out of the way and throws her arms around Jareth, planting a sloppy black-lipsticked kiss on his lips. Whoa. Holy fangirl alert. I wait eagerly for Jareth to
push her away. To tell her to get the hell out of his sight and then—
—kiss her back?!
“Hey, sweetie, I was wondering what happened to you,”
my
boyfriend purrs to Miss Elvira, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her tight. As he kisses the top of her head, it’s all I can do to keep myself from screaming.
Okay, I admit it. I
can’t
keep myself from screaming. In fact, I start screaming my head off, if you want to know the truth. But still! What would you do if you saw something like that?
Your
boyfriend, who always swore he hadn’t been with anyone but you for a thousand years, hooking up with some random chick who is, I might add, completely not his type whatsoever?
Unfortunately, my screaming attracts the attention of the entire club. The DJ even turns off the music, probably thinking someone is getting drained dry on the dance floor. I clamp my mouth shut, my face burning like fire, and shrug.
“Um, sorry?”
“Who is this?” The girl demands, unwrapping herself from Jareth’s arms and turning to look at me with narrow, piglike eyes. “And why is she staring at you, Jareth?” She gives me a condescending once-over, which is ridiculous, considering she’s the one wearing last year’s Hot Topic clearance threads.
Jareth rolls his eyes, looking bored. “Just some mortal who’s evidently watched too many episodes of the
Vampire Diaries
.”
The girl sneers. “God, I
do
wish this ridiculous vampire trend would die already. It’s getting
so
old.”
Oooh I so want to punch that self-satisfied smirk off her
face. Almost as much I want to tell her that I liked vampires way before the whole
Twilight
phenomenon. Hell, I was reading Anne Rice and watching
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
in elementary school! How dare she try to play me up as some sparkly noob?
But I need to think bigger picture here. Like why the heck does Jareth have a girlfriend to begin with? I mean, sure, I hadn’t technically met him yet the first time around—we didn’t become acquainted for another month and a half, when I was assigned my first job for Slayer Inc. But still! He’d never once hinted at the time that he’d just gotten out of a serious relationship. If anything, he made it clear he’d been single for centuries.