by Gayla Twist
The cop car stayed where it was. I guess they were waiting to make sure we left. “That was so rude,” I grumbled once we had turned the corner and were on the next block. “He had no reason to interfere with us. We weren’t doing anything.”
“Try to look at it from his perspective. He was just doing his job,” Jessie said with a shrug. “I’m sure the family is on edge, and they have every right to be. They probably have patrols going by every twenty minutes or so just to make sure no one is prying into their business.” He gave me a firm look. “That’s actually a good thing.”
He was right. I had just gotten my ego bent out of shape because the cop was telling us what to do, but he was actually just trying to protect the Thurmans. It was only a few days ago that the police were telling crazed camera crews to leave my family alone, and I had been grateful for their interference then.
Jessie was more mature than me in so many ways. But he also didn’t seem like an adult; he felt like a teenager somehow. I wondered about that. Was he more mature because he had been around for an extra eighty years? Or was he more mature because people in their teens were more adult back when he actually became a teenager? I remembered reading somewhere that adolescence was a modern invention that really didn’t gain popularity until the 1950s.
“Did you find out anything about Liz?” I asked, deciding not to question Jessie as to if he thought of me as wildly immature.
“Not really,” he said with a slow, contemplative shake of his head. “Her scent trail is long gone, and I don’t see any signs of even the slightest struggle. There’s definitely no blood around,” he told me. “But that doesn’t really mean anything. She could have been grabbed off the sidewalk or gotten into somebody’s car of her own free will.” I guess he understood the horrified expression on my face because he quickly added, “Or she walked to the bus stop and paid with cash, and no one happened to remember. She could be with some friends right now hiding out.”
I thought about Liz’s closest friends, fighting back tears as they urged people to sign up and help in the search. “Unlikely,” I said, even though I knew he was trying to be kind. I didn’t know Liz very well, but she didn’t seem like the kind of girl that would put her family through hell just because she was mad at her dad over cell phone usage. I just didn’t think that was the kind of thing she would do.
Once we were a few blocks from the Thurman house, Jessie wrapped his arms around me and flew me home. “Do you want to come in?” I asked, once we had alighted in the front yard.
“I’d better just say good night,” Jessie said. As the words left his lips, my heart dropped. I had expected him to say yes, but he reassured me with a squeeze of my hand. “I have some last-minute holiday shopping that I need to complete.”
“It’s almost ten o’clock,” I told him. “I think all of the stores are closed.”
“I meant online,” he assured me. “There’s still time with rush delivery. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to buy for people who have been around for a hundred years.” He let his shoulders rise and then drop a bit ruefully. “How many times can you buy your mother a nice pair of slippers?”
The idea of the undead logging in online to do their Christmas shopping somehow felt bizarre to me, but I completely understood the bind he was in. At least the next day would be our last day of classes, and then I would have some time to figure out the phone situation. “Okay, well, good night,” I said, feeling awkward. Jessie seemed distracted, and I had grown accustomed to him kissing me good night. I turned to go.
Jessie quickly reached out and tugged me back to him, placing a tender kiss upon my lips. “Good night, my dear Aurora,” he whispered.
I knew Jessie was watching me as I climbed the front steps to the porch. He would never take off and leave me alone in the dark. He would wait until he knew I was safe first. But as I unlocked the door and pushed it open, there was a flapping of fabric. I turned my head to look anyway, even though I already knew he was gone. I placed my hand to my cheek and squinted into the night. Was something bothering Jessie, or was it just my imagination?
As I closed and locked the front door, my mother came clattering in from the living room. “Where the hell have you been?” she demanded.
“What do you mean, ‘Where the hell have I been?’ I’ve been out with Jessie. What’s the big deal?” I told her in a somewhat louder voice than I intended, immediately set on the defensive.
“I came home and the house was empty, but your car was in the garage. You could have left me a note, you know. You could have texted me that you were going out.” She sounded furious, sincerely angry, just because I had gone out for a walk.
I drew breath to tell her she needed to chill the hell out. I was a big girl, and I was out with my boyfriend. It wasn’t some major deal that she had to turn into a crisis. But then I thought of it from her perspective. She came home at night expecting to find me. I was usually pretty good about keeping her updated as to what I was doing but had completely spaced it in the anticipation of a night flight. Plus, a girl my age had disappeared less than a week ago. That had to have every parent on edge, not just the Thurmans.
“I’m sorry,” I said, quickly adjusting my attitude. I went over and put my arms around her, giving her a big hug. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Jessie came over and asked if I wanted to take a walk in the snow. I thought we would just be a little while, so I didn’t think to leave you a note, but then we got talking and lost track of time.”
When I first put my arms around her, Mom was wound tighter than a spring, but she started to relax almost immediately. Probably just knowing I was safe was helping her relax. “I was worried,” she said with a little pout.
I kissed her on the head and squeezed her some more. “I’m sorry. I should have texted. But I was fine; I was with Jessie. He’d never let anything happen to me.”
“Listen, sweetie,” she said, hugging me back. “I know teenage boys think they’re going to live forever, but they get kidnapped, too, you know.”
Chapter 13
I had forgotten to tell Jessie about seeing the old man who may or may not have been a vampire. I only remembered in my dreams. He came tapping at my window and rattling at the front door, calling out to me to invite him in. I woke up two or three times with a start and once even got out of bed and peeped through a crack in the curtains to convince myself that no one was there.
I’ll never understand why teachers try to get anything done the last day of school before winter break. Some of them even spring pop quizzes on us. They try to act like they’re not just as excited about two weeks off as we are, but most kids know the truth.
It was still before lunch when I first heard the rumor that Don Updike was missing. Then there was a counter rumor that he had just taken off early to go skiing. Either way, he was definitely not at school. By lunch, the rumor that he was missing had gained strength. He’d been out canvassing for Liz with a couple of friends. They all lived fairly close to each other but had split off to head to their respective homes at about seven-thirty. His buddies had made it home, but Don had not. It was all anybody could talk about at lunch. His parents had already contacted the police and tried to corral the few reporters still hanging around waiting to get some footage of Aunt Lettie’s funeral. I decided I was going to ask Jessie to head over to the Updike’s house just as soon as he got out of his coffin. The trail should still be fresh. Maybe he could figure out something.
“I’m really confused how I feel about this,” Blossom said as we sat down at our usual table. “I mean, Don is usually kind of a jerk, but that doesn’t mean I want him dead or anything.”
I nodded, feeling a lump of fear in the back of my throat. Was Don already dead?
“Do you think the same person that snatched Liz is the one that got Don?” Sheila Lavelle asked, inserting herself into our conversation. Sheila was more Blossom’s friend than mine. Blossom always insisted that she was nice, but I secretly suspected Sheila didn’
t consider me cool enough to hang out with. “I thought serial killers always went for the same type of person,” she went on. “You know, like, they only kill prepubescent boys or they only kill women in their twenties with blonde hair or they only kill …”
“Teenagers?” Blossom suggested.
We all sat chewing that idea over for a few seconds.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s not get too morbid. First of all, we don’t even know for sure if Don is missing. And even if he is missing, that doesn’t mean he’s dead. Or Liz either, for that matter.”
“Yeah, maybe they’ve both just fallen into a big well,” Blossom said dryly.
“But if it is the same killer, it’s not very smart to keep grabbing kids from the same town,” Sheila insisted. “I mean, not if whoever’s doing this doesn’t want to get caught.”
“Maybe they just don’t like Tiburon,” Blossom suggested, crushing the mini-carton of the chocolate milk she’d had for lunch—that along with a candy bar.
“Oh, come on, it’s Tiburon,” Sheila insisted. “What did we ever do to them?”
Being the only one in the conversation who knew that we had a family of vampires living in town, I felt extra uncomfortable. Maybe it was someone with a vendetta against the Vanderlinds who was snatching up teenagers to get people riled up and pounding on doors, only to discover the neighbors have fangs. Then again, maybe it was just a garden variety psychopath who wasn’t very good at covering his trail. Neither option allowed me much room to relax.
“Are either of you done with Christmas shopping?” I asked, really wanting to change the subject.
They both stared at me for a second, then Blossom turned to Sheila and said, “Did you know that our little Aurora here is dating one of the Vanderlinds?”
My mouth fell open right along with Sheila’s. Yes, I had told my best friend about my boyfriend, but I hadn’t given her permission to tell anyone else. In fact, for whatever foolish reason, it had never occurred to me that she would tell anyone else. I just hadn’t thought about it.
“Vanderlinds as in the Vanderlind Castle?” Sheila asked, quite obviously a bit stunned.
Um … yeah,” I said, feeling like an idiot. In part because I really didn’t want the word getting around and in part because Sheila seemed so incredulous.
“Yes, he’s one of those Vanderlinds,” Blossom supplied for me, rounding her eyes with the juiciness of the detail. The Vanderlinds were known to be painfully reclusive and ridiculously rich. “And he is gorgeous. Like, crazy gorgeous. I’ve met him, and you know I don’t make that stuff up.”
“Wow.” Sheila turned to look at me with renewed interest. I could see her reassessing me, thinking that maybe I wasn’t such a dork after all. “I was wondering why you weren’t desperately trying to get back together with Fred.” She shot Blossom a look. “I was totally going to ask you about it. Nobody can figure it out.” Bouncing back to me again, she added, “So I guess you’re bringing him to Blossom’s on Christmas Eve.”
I was on the verge of saying something like “He has a family thing and can’t make it,” but Blossom cut me off. “She’s totally bringing him,” she said. “But I meant to tell you, my mom’s not letting us have it in the house this year.”
“You’re kidding. Why not?” Sheila wanted to know.
“Some jackholes were smoking in the house last year, and my mom could smell it.”
“Why would someone be such a jackhole?” Sheila said to be empathetic, but it wouldn’t have surprised me if she was one of the people who had been causing the problem.
“People who smoke always think they can be sneaky and no one else can smell it, but everyone totally can.” Blossom rolled her eyes. “So anyway, we have to have it in the backyard, but we’ve got some of those outdoor heaters and a fire pit, so I think it’ll be pretty warm.”
There it was. Blossom was having her holiday party in the backyard. Jessie could attend if he wanted. He couldn’t thwart me with scruples about entering someone’s home under false pretenses.
Was it right to bring a vampire to my best friend’s Christmas Eve party? I had to think about it. I did, after all, have some scruples of my own. Jessie wouldn’t harm anyone, but it was still something to consider. I knew from experience that exposure to vampires led to exposure to more vampires. On the other hand, my ego was feeling a bit raw from Sheila’s incredulous reaction to the fact that I had a boyfriend, let alone a gorgeous boyfriend, let alone someone as mysterious, rich, and elusive as a Vanderlind.
“We’ve got a family thing at the castle that Jessie can’t get out of for Christmas Eve,” I found myself saying without really thinking about it. I looked at Blossom. “It’s a tradition and it’s kind of a big deal that I’m invited, but we should be able to show up early at your place for a little while.”
Sheila reached across the lunch table and clutched at my arm. “I can’t believe you get to actually go inside the Vanderlind Castle. I want to get in there so bad. Just wait until I tell Meredith.”
Crap. I wanted to smack myself on the head. I knew I was being stupid talking about the castle. I knew I was being stupid as the words escaped my lips. If I was smart, I would have kept my mouth shut. But no, I had to brag. I had to show Sheila that I was cooler than she thought. And now she was going to tell her friend Meredith and probably any other eager ears that were willing to listen. Pretty soon, every girl in school and half the boys would know that I had been, as an invited guest, inside the Vanderlind Castle—a feat that no one else in town had ever accomplished during my lifetime. Not smart, not smart, not smart. I resisted another urge to thunk myself on the head. Instead, I opted to try for some damage control.
“Listen, do you two mind not telling anyone else about this?” I asked rather hastily. “Not yet, I mean. We haven’t been dating that long, and I really don’t want to blow it by talking about it too much. I kind of want to, you know, keep it on the down low. At least for now.”
“So, you’re not really dating him,” Sheila said, giving me a superior “I thought so” look.
“No, I am,” I insisted, but even I could tell my voice didn’t sound that confident.
“It’s the unicorn thing,” Blossom told her, quickly coming to my defense.
“The what?” Sheila obviously hadn’t followed the reference.
“It’s like seeing a unicorn in a meadow,” Blossom explained. “You want to tell people, but you’re afraid if you bring anyone else to the meadow, the unicorn will just run away.”
Sheila’s eyes shifted back over to me. “So, you’re not really sure if you’re dating a Vanderlind then.”
“No, I really am dating him,” I assured her. “I’m just not ready to go super public with it yet.”
“Okay, fine,” Sheila said with a sniff. “I guess I can keep my mouth shut. But we’ll know if you’re full of it for sure if you show up solo at Blossom’s party.”
Oh great, I thought. I’m being taunted by Sheila Lavelle to bring a vampire to Christmas Eve. What did it matter to her who I was dating? It’s not like I brought it up and was bragging about it or anything. I guess she somehow felt threatened, just in case I had an awesome boyfriend and she didn’t. My mom was always pointing out how the entertainment media is constantly encouraging females to compete over guys. It was a little depressing, but I had walked right into the trap, and now I felt like I had to bring Jessie to the party or deal with Sheila’s snide remarks.
I guess it was too much to expect that Sheila would actually keep her mouth shut. She must have told at least one or two people throughout the day—probably in a derogatory way, like I was lying about it and she had called me out—because at the end of the day, as I was pulling the books out of my locker that I would need for winter break, Fred sidled up. He had his hands jammed in his pockets, and there was a bit of a slouch to his stride.
“Hey,” he said, giving me a nudge without removing his hands from his pockets. I had no idea what he wanted, but he sounded lik
e he had something on his mind.
“Hey,” I said back, still sorting through books.
“So …” he began, “there’s this rumor going around the school that you’re dating one of those psychos from the Vanderlind Castle. I told people it wasn’t true, but … you know … I thought I’d better check.”
“Uh …” I stalled for time as I mentally beat myself up for having a big mouth. I couldn’t even be mad at Blossom. She was repeating what I’d told her. “Yeah, it’s kind of true.”
“Oh.” Fred looked down at his shoes. “So that’s the guy you dumped me for?”
“Well …” I flinched a little on the inside from giving him a straight up honest answer. I really hated hurting him. “Kind of,” was all I could manage.
“Sure, I get it.” Fred nodded a couple of times. “He’s super rich and he lives in that big house and he’s all mysterious. I’m sure he’s getting you something crazy expensive for Christmas.”
“Actually, we agreed to a spending cap,” I said in a small voice.
“Yeah, well, just be careful, Aurora. They’re a really weird family,” he said. “My great grandfather used to work up at the castle back in the thirties, and he doesn’t have a lot of positive stuff to say about the family.”
I did a double take. “Your great grandfather is still alive?”
“Kind of,” was Fred’s reply. “He’s not too with it anymore. Mostly just sits in his chair and stares at nothing. He’s closing in on one hundred, so we don’t hassle him too much about it. Sometimes they turn the TV on for him at the home, but he doesn’t watch it.”
I had to wonder how Fred and I had dated for over a month, but I didn’t know his great grandfather was still alive. He knew about my great grandmother. I had to conclude that I had been kind of a crappy girlfriend. He deserved better than some chick who pretty much ignored him because she was hung up on a vampire. “I don’t suppose he’s staying at Ashtabula Care?” I asked, knowing it was a long shot.
