“Now,” says Ivetta, cutting Uncle Mortie off from re-creating the mad dash inside, “I think it’s time for me to call for some backup. They should be here soon, since some of them are out there watching the game. Then we can get to work cleaning up this mess. Oh, and congratulations on being Homecoming Queen! That’s a real honor!”
Eh, whatever. We wouldn’t be in this mess if I’d just stayed in the bleachers with Serena. I say as much but Serena immediately disagrees.
“No, it’s my fault,” says Serena. “I should never have believed that Stacey girl’s crackpot story about Cameron needing help with his car and that stupid cow.” Ah, that explains how they lured Serena away too. I guess I should have known she wouldn’t have just followed Raven all tra-la-la-la-la to certain doom.
“It’s nobody’s fault,” says Mom. “Sometimes, stuff happens.”
“I disagree,” says Uncle Mortie. “I think we can blame it all on this one.” He points to Raven, who’s still cowering in a corner. She’s kind of just whimpering now. I always knew she was a chicken at heart. I just wish she’d figured it out before going all slice ’n’ dice on me.
“It is my fault. She followed me here.” A tear leaks out of Serena’s right eye. I’d throw a pillow at her if I had one. It’s so not her fault that Raven was crazy enough to want to join the Talons.
“We’ll take care of her, sweetie,” says Ivetta. “Don’t worry about that. The Council is sending its best agents over as we speak.” She snaps her cell phone shut.
“I could take care of it,” says Dr. Musty. I stop myself from snorting. I just don’t have the energy for sarcasm right now.
“No, no,” says Dad. “You’ve done enough, Dr. Jonas. Why, you’ve cracked the Talons!”
“Not without help,” says Dr. Jonas. “I don’t believe I would have gotten away from Lowell without Mina’s help, not to mention the information she helped gather.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “You’ve got the makings of a great historian,” he says.
Dad beams at me like I just made valedictorian. Oh great, I bet I know what I’m getting for Christmas this year—boring history books.
“Um, thanks,” I say. “But what about all this mess?” I wave a hand at the blood. Actually, it’s making me a little queasy now, the sheer quantity of it. Especially since it’s all mine. In some ways, I don’t blame Raven for going cuckoo. But then again, it’s all her fault.
Serena’s gone past green into puce territory. She closes her eyes and Uncle Mortie puts an arm around her and pulls her to his chest so she can’t see it anymore. She looks paler now than she ever did during her Goth days.
“We’ll take care of that too,” says Ivetta.
Ten minutes later, I see what she means. A bunch of serious looking vampires swoop in out of nowhere. In minutes, they’ve got me cleaned up and back in my own clothes (one of them even found my shoes). They set the Chem lab back into working order then whisk Raven off somewhere to give her the third degree. I guess they’ve got experience in blood or something.
Ivetta says she’ll take care of the homecoming photos herself, though I think I might have been dodging the camera enough that they probably didn’t come out. Hopefully. And after the whole fiasco with Kacie, Mr. Fleming might just disqualify me anyway.
“Just leave casually,” says the head goon. “One at a time, out of different doors, and head back to your home. We’re surrounding the area to round up the Carters now, so please just act like everything is normal.”
I wind up leaving last (with many promises to George that I will be very, very careful and not make anyone mad enough to kill me on the way home) to give myself a little more time to recuperate and to down another flask of emergency O that one of The Council guys had on him. Strangely enough, he even kind of looked like Uncle Mortie. Just skinnier. And cooler, except for the blue and gold home-team colors he’s sporting.
I have every intention of going straight home as instructed. But then I see Kacie standing at the very back of a long line for the girls’ bathroom, looking all smug and cheerful and something inside me just won’t let it go. Maybe it’s the part of me that’s related to Uncle Mortie. Maybe it’s because I’ve just been through a bloodbath (literally) and all she’s had to deal with is standing in line to pee.
“Hey, Kacie,” I say and take her by the arm and pull her out of line and back behind some bushes before she can even respond. Chalk up one for the mad vampire skills.
“What—” she starts to say but I lean in close and do the quickest centering of my entire undead life and look deep in her eyes. I don’t think anyone noticed me grab her, but you never know. And she’s just as pea-brained as I thought, since she goes under my spell pretty much immediately. Ha! I am rocking the mind-control stuff tonight!
“You won Homecoming Queen,” I say. She repeats it after me. As Cameron taught me, it’s good to start with something they’re already inclined to believe.
“You forgot your crown out on the football field. You feel just naked without it. You want to show it off to the whole town.” She keeps repeating everything I say. Perfect. “The crown is right in front of the goal posts on the south end of the field. Other girls are jealous of you and might try to stop you, but that crown is yours.” She repeats the last part with relish and an evil sneer. “The crown is a little different this year, but still absolutely beautiful. It’s brown and kind of round and it goes perfectly with your dress. It will look stunning in your hair. Once you find it, put it on. Don’t let anyone steal your special moment.”
There. That should do it. One of the clean-up goons had been a little chatty and mentioned that Baby had finally pooped right in front of the south end goal posts, just like last year. Maybe it’s petty and maybe it’s beneath me, but you know what? It still feels good.
I give her a push in the right direction and then follow her out of the bushes after I see her start to move purposefully toward the football field.
“What are you making her do?” asks Cameron.
I jump about a mile. Either I was concentrating even harder than I thought, or he’s got some seriously good sneaking-up-on-you skills. Probably both.
I look around to see if any of the goons have made their way out yet. He probably has no idea they’re going to round up all the Carters. I still can’t believe that he’s a Talon. It’s just wrong.
“I told her to go look for her homecoming crown around the vicinity of Baby’s cow patty.”
He laughs. “I’m glad I’ve never made you mad.” Then he turns and looks at me a little sadly. “Though I’m sad I wasn’t able to make you as happy as some.” He lifts up his hand and just barely touches my face, then takes it away.
“About George,” I say, and then stop, not really sure where to go from there. I really don’t like actually lying to people. A little fibbing, maybe, but lying just sucks.
He smiles and shakes his head. “I think I can safely say that he’s not just an intern working with your dad, right?”
“Um, yeah,” I say. Can I just leave it like that? Is that okay?
“Mina, I’ve never met anyone quite like you. I wish we’d had a chance”—he clears his throat—“to dance at homecoming.” Holy cheese, he did not just say that, did he?
“I’m sorry,” I say, and stop again. I hate that. Whenever I feel like I have a lot to say, I usually can’t say anything at all. At least, nothing coherent. But the least I can do is warn him. He did save my life. I owe him big. “I’m sure I’m not supposed to tell you this, but you really ought to leave. A bunch of goons are about to unleash a world of hurt on John and Wayne and the rest of you guys.”
He nods. “I expected that. It was stupid of them to take Dr. Jonas. I told them that, but they didn’t listen. They’ve been getting away with so much for so long that it was bound to go to their heads sooner or later.” He reaches out a hand like he’s going to touch me again, but stops before he does. “I just want you to know something, Mina. I owe a lot to John and Wa
yne, but I wasn’t one of their normal conquests. Wayne really saved me when he turned me. I was about to die. So they aren’t all bad. Just mostly bad.” He gives me a sad smile and pulls back his sleeve to show me his arm. No telltale tattoo. “I am a Carter and I always will be, but they don’t own me.”
I just knew he couldn’t be a Talon. “You should still probably go, just to be safe.”
“It’s been nice knowing you,” he says. “Maybe someday …” Then he leans forward and gives me a gentle kiss on the lips. Then he’s gone, just like that. The scent of him lingers in the air for a minute or two afterwards.
40
George is waiting for me outside the door to the house. I can hear Mom and Dad and Dr. Musty inside celebrating. Sounds like Dad even broke out the really good stuff.
“Hey,” I say. “No one tried to kill me on the way here.”
George doesn’t say anything, just gathers me up in his arms. “I meant what I said back there, you know. I really am sorry.”
“What for?” I take in a deep breath of Georgeness. Like orange marmalade, a summer rainstorm, and fresh-cut grass. Not overpowering or knock-me-over, but something I wouldn’t mind at all smelling every day.
“Everything. And I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I should have gone into Eirunepé earlier, if for no other reason than to let you know exactly where I was and what was going on. I was just so excited to be there with my parents and getting to know them that I lost track of time. And I promise I wasn’t ogling half-naked Brazilian bikini babes. I did see some naked Korubo women, but it’d be a big stretch to call them babes.” He gives me a 7.8 smile on the George scale and pushes a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. Yeesh, I really wish he hadn’t read all my e-mails.
“And I should have thought about what you were going through, leaving your life behind. I think it just didn’t occur to me since I’ve never had anything to leave behind before.”
I give him a small smile. “I’m sorry too.” Goodness knows I’m not perfect either.
He puts a finger to my lips. “If it’s about Cameron, say no more. I know I left you hanging and if something did happen, I really can’t blame you. But I’d be lying if I said I wanted to hear about it.”
I’d blush if I could. Technically, nothing did happen with Cameron (other than the one kiss that just happened, but that took me by surprise), though something definitely could have if George hadn’t shown up when he did. But that wasn’t what I was thinking about. “No, this isn’t about him. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry I didn’t support you going to visit your parents. Honestly, I still don’t really see why you want to get to know them, but that doesn’t matter. I should have supported you no matter what. I mean, I do support you. I think you should spend as much time with them as you need to.”
He looks a little surprised (and maybe relieved it wasn’t about Cameron). “Thanks,” he says. “That means a lot to me. What I’d really like is for us all to spend some time together. I think you’d like them once you get to know them.”
I kind of doubt that, but I keep my feelings to myself. If it’s important to George, it’s important to me. I just give him a big hug instead.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s go in and save Serena from the madness.” He smiles at me again and turns to open the door. I think better of it and stop him to pull his head down. There’s always time for one more kiss.
The Goon Squad is coming tomorrow for Serena. It took her all of five minutes after George and I came in to the house to tell us she didn’t think she was really cut out for the whole vampire thing. Not right now. And that she really missed Nathan and her dad and even, just a tiny bit, her little sister. The ten more messages from Nathan that came just while we were out probably helped make that decision, but I can’t say I blame her. It’s been one big dramasaster after another since she got here. Not to mention the bloodbath we just went through.
If we were still in California, the goons would have probably been here as soon as she even looked like she was going to chicken out. But the Southeast Regional Vampire Council is, well, more Southern. Things are relaxed. They said it was just fine for us to have one last day together before they erase her recent memories and drop her and the Death Beetle off back in California with an implanted memory of having gone on a road trip to the Grand Canyon to get away from all the divorce drama. Of course, they don’t know that she knew about the whole vampire thing from back before the funeral. I’m hoping they don’t figure it out.
But I’ve got one more trick up my sleeve too. Serena and I go out to the park so Mom and Dad can validly claim that they had no idea what I was up to if things happen to blow up on me. I’m still not all that sure my Jedi mind tricks are up to par anyway, but I’m hoping that Cameron was right when he said it’s easier to implant something that the person wants too. It seemed to work pretty well on Kacie. Homecoming will be a night she’ll remember for years. Well, the parts of it the goon squad let her remember. I begged them to leave the cow patty memory and I’m pretty sure they humored me. They ought to, after what I went through helping them prove the whole Carter-Talon thing.
“Okay,” I say to Serena, “are you ready?” We’re back sitting on the blanket, just like the first time I practiced on her. But this time it’s for real.
“You promise there will be no extra goodies like where I’ll bark like a dog when someone honks their horn, right?”
I laugh. Trust Serena to always look on the dark side. “I promise. Though I am tempted to make sure you never go Goth again.”
She shivers. “Don’t worry. After that whole crazy Goth girl thing, I’m definitely through with that one. Besides, why go back? Always look ahead. That’s my motto.”
“That’s my girl,” I say. And give her another hug. Probably the umpteenth one of the last hour. I just can’t help myself. I’m hoping this isn’t the end, but who knows? What’s that old saying? If you love something, set it free? Maybe it isn’t so cheesy.
I stare deep into Serena’s eyes and she stares into mine. No laughing this time. I breathe deeply in and out and do all that centering stuff. Okay. Go time. I concentrate harder than I’ve ever concentrated in my life. Harder than when I was trying to stop Lowell from mashing my head in. I really need to make this good.
“Serena, somewhere deep inside of you where the VRA and the Vampire Corps cannot reach”—I sincerely hope, anyway—“you will always know that I am alive. Um, undead. Whatever.” Crap, I should have thought about what I was going to say more. “And that I will always be there for you if you need me. Always. And you will know that I will always love you. If you ever need me, really need me or if you ever decide that you want to turn, no matter how old you are—twenty, thirty, sixty—it doesn’t matter.” Cheese, I think her eyes would be glazed over by now even if I weren’t doing the whole mind-control thing. I am such a goober. “Just send an e-mail to me at [email protected]. No matter where you are in the world, I will come find you. Can you repeat that e-mail back to me, please?”
“[email protected],” she says in this weird monotone. I guess it is working. I hope.
“Do not tell anyone about that e-mail address. Do not think of it at all, except when you get to the point that you need me. Or want to turn.” Am I forgetting anything? Oh, wait, maybe I can sneak something in.
“Periodically, send an update on your life to that e-mail address. Write me whenever something important happens or you just want to share.” Oh, I hope that works.
I am actually a little tempted to add something in there about her fashion sense (or lack thereof, sometimes), but Serena wouldn’t be Serena without her crazy tutus and whatnot. I sit and just watch her as the sun comes up and the tranciness wears off. She finally gives herself a shake and her eyes come back in focus.
“Did it work?”
“I think so. I hope so.”
“Don’t worry,” she says. “I know it will work. I can feel it. We will see each other again. Maybe not soon, but
someday.”
“Yeah,” I say. I feel it too. We’re BFF. And I do mean forever.
With much thanks to …
Little Max, for introducing chaos and giggles into my life and my husband, Tony, for trying to keep me sane. (Yes, I know it’s a losing battle.)
My nephew Cameron for letting me borrow his name and my nieces Rachael and Natalie for their expert advice on things I am too old to understand anymore.
Nina, as always, for fighting for this book, but most of all, for making it much better than it would have otherwise been.
Myra for periodically talking me off of ledges and just generally being a cheerleader (the writerly kind).
And most especially to all the fans who have written me e-mails and letters and left comments on my site. You guys always make my day (not to mention helping me out with the tough questions in life, like what George would smell like or what a character’s name should be). YOU ROCK.
About the Author
Kimberly Pauley would like to state for the record that she is not really a vampire.
As her alter-ego, the Young Adult Books Goddess of yabookscentral.com, she has been reviewing books for teens since 1998. She lives in Illinois with Max the cutest baby in the universe and her husband Tony, who is also not a vampire.
To read her blog
find more information about her books,
and enter special contests and promotions, visit
Still Sucks to Be Me: More All-True Confessions of Mina Hamilton, Teen Vampire Page 23
