Fangs for Nothing (Vampire Hunting and Other Foolish Endeavors)

by Adrianne Ambrose

  “Isn’t it?” Xander flashed his pearly whites. “I thought you might like it.” Both us guys leaned toward Rini to get a better look at the book. “Now, read the definition for grave,” he instructed.

  Rini complied. “Grave. A place in which the dead are laid to await the coming of the medical student.” She smiled at Xander. “Oh, grave robbing. That’s so dark and historical. I’m already in love with this book.”

  “Yeah.” I had to agree. “Me, too. It’s hilarious.”

  Xander was pleased.

  Some dendrophiliacs, aka arborists, strolled past, presumably from a nearby university. Lake View has trees from all over the world, so tree people frequently visit to study the different species. Something mustard colored among the obelisks caught my eye. It was Violet Girl. Again! This time she was monochromatically clad in a vibrant dark yellow. Enough was enough. It’s one thing to “run into” Xander at the Westgate Mall, but completely something else to follow him to Lake View. This was our cemetery. No stalkers allowed.

  I jumped to my feet and swiftly started walking toward her. She withdrew behind an obelisk, but I knew where she was. “Hey, you,” I called. “You in the mustard dress.” I rounded the monument to confront her, but she wasn’t there. “What the…” I said to myself, scanning the headstones. A glimpse of yellow twenty yards away caught my eye as the girl dashed behind a statue of an angel signaling to all souls that if everything went according to plan they should be heading north. Quickening my pace, I pursued her.

  “Where you going?” Xander called after me, but I waved him off.

  The afternoon was pushing on toward evening causing the shadows from the grave markers to stretch across the lawn. It was stupid to be chasing this crazy girl, and I knew it, but that didn’t stop me. By the time I got to the angel, the mustard dress had disappeared around the back of an art deco mausoleum. I was going at a full-out sprint by that point, determined to confront the girl.

  The back of the mausoleum was bereft of crazy girls, but I did catch a glimpse of her skirt rounding the building. I slowed to a sneaking pace and tiptoed after her. Two pony-sized sphinxes guarded the front of the tomb. Now, I am normally very respectful of graves, art, and other people’s property, but Violet Girl had really worked me up into a lather. Using the closest sphinx like a pummel horse, I vaulted over the statue and landed square in front of the mausoleum’s entrance. Caught completely by surprise, Violet Girl jerked back into the shadow of the doorway.

  “Um…” I hadn’t really planned what I was going to say once I caught her. “Hello?” She peeked out at me but still stayed hidden. “Yeah, I see you. What are you doing here?”

  She came out from the front of the tomb and stared at me with her emerald eyes for several seconds, breathing heavy from her flight. I felt like I was a new species she had stumbled across in the Australian outback and she was trying to decide if I was poisonous. “It’s a cemetery,” she eventually said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s open to the public. Just don’t pee behind a tombstone and they pretty much let you stay.”

  “Yeah, but I saw you at the market yesterday. And at the mall.”

  “I know. I saw you, too. Are you following me or something?” She casually touched her collarbone, running her fingertips along a thin silver chain to a familiar bat necklace. She was pretty. With her face slightly flushed from running, she looked even prettier than I remembered her at the market. Her long black hair swirled around her shoulders, and little tendrils curled against her alabaster skin. Her ears and nose came up in little peaks. She was definitely a sexy elf. I guess I was staring at her a bit because she added, “To be honest, you’re kind of creeping me out.”

  I was at a loss for a moment and a little embarrassed, but then I got annoyed. “Listen,” I told her, “I know what you’re up to, and it’s not going to work.”

  “You do?” She seemed surprised and took a small step backwards. I had obviously made her uncomfortable.

  “Yeah, I’m not an idiot. I can figure these things out.”

  “You can?” She acted even more alarmed.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.” She withdrew into herself a little more. Her face became pinched. “This isn’t good. I didn’t know I was being that obvious.”

  “Well, you are. And I’ve got to tell you, you’re not the first girl that’s tried this.”

  This really threw her. “I’m not?”

  “No.” It was probably best just to tell her straight out. “Girls fling themselves at Xander all the time. Women do it, too. And men. Actually, it’s pretty exhausting, and I’m just his friend.”

  She took in my meaning. “Oh…” Her face relaxed, and she expanded a little. “Xander. I get you.”

  “Are you going to stop following us around or what?” I asked.

  She looked me over as if she was trying to decide if she wanted to take me for a test drive. “I don’t know. That depends. I’m going to be under the bridge tonight. If you show up, I can’t guarantee we won’t run into each other.”

  That wasn’t exactly what I thought she was going to say. “Uh… Okay, fine. I won’t go under the bridge.” I had thought the piece of paper Xander had given me was a fake that he drew, but I was starting to wonder.

  “Don’t let me stop you.” She gave me a small smirk. “You can come if you want to.”

  “No, I don’t want to go under a bridge,” I assured her. “I won’t see you there.”

  “Have it your way.” She turned to go. “Anyway, it was nice talking to you, Herbert.”

  “Wait.” I stopped her. “Xander told you my name?”

  She gave a small laugh. “Not exactly.”

  “Well, what’s your name?”

  “Does it matter? Don’t you prefer calling me Violet Girl?” She laughed again and hurried away, disappearing among the headstones.

  “Yeah, but that only works if you’re actually wearing violet,” I called after her, my voice echoing inappropriately in the peaceful graveyard.

  Chapter 6

  Jeans are the world’s uniform. Seriously, they are. You know how in futuristic movies from the seventies, everyone is always wearing matching jumpsuits? And you think, that’s stupid. Why would everyone wear the same thing all the time? Especially something that you practically have to take off in order to use the bathroom. Men might put up with it, but the ladies definitely would not. Well, in my opinion, jeans have become the world’s uniform. From Paris to Bangkok, everyone is always in jeans. They’ve somehow become the clothing that’s always supposed to be cool to wear. I just don’t get it.

  I never wear jeans. I’m being completely honest here. I don’t even own a pair. Xander has some black jeans he’ll wear sometimes especially if the weather’s bad, but Xander is the exception, not the rule, for fashion in general. Rini exclusively wears skirts or dresses, most of which she’s altered or made herself. I’ve only seen her in pants to go skiing or sledding. I asked her about it once, and she said, “Pants make me look squat.”

  I always take some time when deciding what to wear. Especially to a show like Young Lords. It seems almost pointless when I’ll be standing in the same room as Xander, but I think it’s good to take pride in your appearance. I mean, most guys my age look like they slept in their clothes all the time, and that’s supposed to be cool. I just don’t get it. I’ve always liked how good everyone looks in old black-and-white movies and photographs. And seeing that I acquire most of my clothes from thrift stores, it’s a look I try to emulate. Yeah, I do get teased at school pretty chronically for my choices, but the good thing about getting a little older is, at this point in my life, I just don’t care.

  I chose black pants, a burgundy shirt, black jacket, and a burgundy pocket square. You heard me, baby, I said pocket square. I also have a sweet collection of vintage ties, many of which would have worked well with my outfit, but I decided against it. I added black shoes, a black belt, and the vintage Bulova that I inherited fr
om my grandfather, and I was ready to go. The watch’s band is a dark brown, which didn’t really work with the whole look, but certain sacrifices had to be made to accommodate a family heirloom.

  Xander pulled up in the Dart at precisely nine o’clock. I zipped out the door, calling goodbye over my shoulder to Grandma. I didn’t want Xander to have to come to the door because then Grandma would invite him in and insist on feeding him, even if he wasn’t hungry. We’d probably miss the opening band. I didn’t know anything about The She Cops, but in my opinion, an all chick band is a rarity and a thing not to be missed.

  I noticed Rini already comfortably ensconced in the front seat when I opened the door, which didn’t even make sense because Xander had to double back to get me. “Hey,” I said, accepting my usual spot in the back seat. They both kind of grunted at me, and I wondered what was going on. I hoped against, but assumed they’d been fighting again. That always made for a fun evening.

  *****

  The She Cops were not the best band I’ve ever heard, but they also weren’t the worst. They had a couple of good songs. Plus, the girls all wore these super-snug matching outfits, which gave us hetero males the illusion that they could play their instruments. By the time Young Lords were getting ready to hit the stage, the Agora was packed. There were tons of cute girls all over the place. So many that even Xander couldn’t occupy all of their attention. As I was heading back from the men’s room, I noticed that a slightly husky but reasonably attractive girl walking toward me was wearing a multicolored enamel bat pendent. That was odd. Were bats suddenly all the rage? Three bat necklaces in two days seemed like a lot. The girl noticed me staring and snapped her fingers in front of my eyes. “You can look all you want, but don’t think you’re going to develop X-ray vision or anything,” she told me. “I’m wearing a lead-lined bra.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, feeling my face turn red. “I wasn’t staring at your…” I waved a hand in the general direction of her cleavage. “I mean, I was looking at your…” I could tell by the look on her face that she was not buying any of it. “You’re necklace,” I finally managed to blurt. “I was looking at your bat necklace.”

  “Right,” she said, putting her hand over the bat as if to hide it from my view while she moved on through the crowd.

  To my surprise, I knew her. “Hey, Lydia… Hi.” She turned and gave me a vague look, so I continued, “You’re Lydia Sarducci, right? Your grandfather owns Sarducci Meats. I met you yesterday. Remember?”

  Recognition caused her eyes to shift. They became speculative, less disdainful. “Oh, yeah.” She tilted her head back just slightly and let a purr rumble in her voice. “It’s good to see you. What was your name again?”

  Seemingly from out of nowhere, Violet Girl appeared. “Hey.” She buttonholed Lydia, and the two of them exchanged a heated debate all in whispers. I couldn’t hear much of what they said, but a few words got through. I distinctly heard Violet Girl say, “I’ve been.” Then I could have sworn she said something like, “my,” or “mine” and “claimed” and then something like “vixen” or “vacant,” I wasn’t sure. I also heard “army” or “blarney” or something like that. Then Violet Girl gave Lydia a small shove, and I distinctly heard her say, “Go find your own.”

  Lydia Sarducci shot Violet Girl an incredibly angry look then spun on her heel and stalked off into the crowd, slamming into me as she went passed. “Hey,” I called after her, but there really wasn’t anything I could think to say. By the time I turned back around, Violet Girl had vanished. I don’t mean she literally disappeared or anything, but I couldn’t find her in the crowd.

  That’s when Xander caught up with me. “Where have you been?” he scolded. “Come on. Young Lords are about to start.” We cut through the crowd heading toward our seats. “I hear there’s some huge after party under the Detroit-Superior Bridge,” he called over his shoulder. “A lot of cute girls have been talking about it. I think we should hit it after the show.”

  “Under the bridge?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard him clearly.

  “Yeah, there’s a lower level where the streetcars used to run back in the day. I guess you can still get down there. It sounds cool.”

  “Uh, I can’t.”

  Xander turned to look at me as we waded deeper into the sea of Young Lords fans. “Why not?”

  “I told Violet Girl to stop stalking us when we were at Lake View. And then she said she was going to be under the bridge tonight. I didn’t know what she meant, but this must be it.”

  “So?”

  “So I can’t go, or it’ll look really weird, like I’m chasing after her or something.”

  Xander rolled his baby blues. “Sherbie, that girl is really cute, and she has been following you all over town for two days. Then she tips you off where she’s going to be and you don’t want to go? Explain to me how this makes sense.”

  “Well, I mean...” I tried to think of how it actually made sense. My point was she wasn’t stalking me, she was stalking Xander. But she told me not to go under the bridge, so I would just look pathetic showing up. And if we did go, she’d probably just throw herself at Xander right in front of me, and I would feel even more pathetic. But I couldn’t just say all this to Xander because he could sometimes be really defensive about girls hitting on him all the time, and this was exactly the kind of thing that set him off. “I don’t know,” I finally managed. “But I can’t go. If she saw me there, I’d feel like a complete idiot.”

  “We’re going,” was all Xander said before turning back into the crowd. I wanted to protest, but everyone started cheering as Young Lords took the stage.

  *****

  “Well, there’s Firenze’s,” Xander said, nodding toward the Italian restaurant as we slowly rolled down W. 25. “The entrance is supposed to be through there.”

  “The restaurant?” I asked. “What are we supposed to do? Break in?”

  “Yeah, maybe it’s just nearby.”

  “Let’s park, and then we can find it,” Rini suggested.

  “Yeah, but where?” Xander asked, making the Dart do the looking-for-parking crawl. There were an unusual number of cars lining the streets.

  Rini squinted her little cat face and peered out the window. “How about there? That church has a pretty big lot.”

  “You can’t park in a church lot,” I protested from the back seat.

  “Why not?” Xander asked, already pulling in the drive. “They’re not using it right now, and we’ll move it by morning.”

  I slumped in the back seat prepared to be annoyed for the rest of the evening. This would probably end up being the same as when everyone was hanging out at the observation parking lot at the airport—where you can view the planes coming in. Xander had heard it was supposed to be cool, but it was just masses of kids with cans of cheap beer cruising each other. We checked it out a few times, but then the cops started busting it on a regular basis, and finally they just padlocked the gates shut at night, so no one could get in. Not even people legitimately there to watch the planes land. I know I’m not going to get any traction on this, but America really needs to focus more on cool places for underage drinkers to hang out.

  We got out of the Dart and started looking around. The Detroit-Superior Bridge stretched east across the river to the left, its smooth white support arches giving it a fluid, undulating feeling. Violet Girl’s little sketch definitely made sense. Maybe she actually wanted me to find her under the bridge or wanted me to find her with Xander in tow. The entrance obviously had to be near the base of the bridge, so that was our first clue. We heard the sharp cackle of girl laughter as a flock of Goth chicks hurried down an overgrown path and disappeared into the dark. “That has got to be it.” Xander ran his hand through his hair, smoothing it into perfect position. “Let’s go.”

  “Um, guys.” I felt some misgivings. “Does anyone else think this is a little weird? I mean, we have no idea what’s down there.”

  “For crying out loud, Her
bert.” Rini was using her I’m-losing-patience-with-you voice. “How are we supposed to enjoy our wild teenage years if we never do anything?”

  “Never do anything? What are you talking about? We just went to San Francisco,” I protested, but it was too late. Rini was marching determinedly on her short little legs toward where the Goth chicks had disappeared, and Xander followed in her wake.

  “Come on, Sherbie,” Xander called back to me. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Chapter 7

  I have to admit, under the bridge was pretty damn cool. At first, there were just some steps and a long hallway. It was kind of scary, like we were entering a haunted rail station to catch the trolley car of death or some other poorly conceived movie plot. We could hear a muffled throbbing, as if there was a band playing under water. Initially, there wasn’t much to see, just the hallway with a lot of dirty white tile work, bare light bulbs overhead, and peeling paint. It was obvious we weren’t going through the original main entrance, but when we got into the actual under-the-bridge area, things really opened up.

  First thing, the music hit us in the face as an industrial Goth band filled the space with an eerie pounding beat. A strobe light made me wonder if the crowd of people gyrating on a makeshift dance floor were enjoying themselves or having simultaneous seizures. Xander made a gesture to herd us away from the music so we could get our bearings.

  With a little distance between us and the band, it was easier to take in our general location. We were on the lower level of the bridge that thousands of people used to commute from the Westside to downtown Cleveland every day, but we were also suspended pretty high up over the Cuyahoga River. Enormous pale white support pillars kept the motorists crossing overhead from crashing in on the party. The band appeared to be set up where the streetcars used to stop for the loading and unloading of passengers. It was hard to tell the layout. There were still some vestiges of the old days, but a lot of the ticket booths and benches and stuff must have been torn out a long time ago.