Authors: Ellen Schreiber
School days and nights passed by painfully slow sans Alexander. I tried to find comfort in Alexander's handmade bracelet, like a baby does a blanket. The wooden masterpiece remained wrapped around my wrist in the shower and during sleep, but it was no substitute for my boyfriend's arms. I knew the Sterlings hadn't seen their son for so long; perhaps they wanted him all to themselves. I didn't know too many things about them, but that much his parents and I had in common. It was as if I were seeing a mirage when I finally saw Alexander waiting for me at the Mansion's gate. However, he wasn't his usual loving self. He appeared distant and preoccupied, staring beyond me and off into the distance. "Shall we go inside?" I asked. "No-my parents are out and I'd like to get some fresh air, too." Alexander walked, his hands in his pockets, kicking the leafy branches with his boots. I took Alexander's arm. "I thought you'd be glad to see me." "I am." He tried to perk up. "How's school?" "I have this English project and it's with Trevor. It's to formulate our ideas about career paths, since we're supposed to start thinking about college." "Do you know what you'd like to become?" he asked. "I've known for years. But you'll need to help me a bit -or should I say, 'a bite.'" "That's not really a career, though�" "Is a career that important?" Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) "To make money it is." "You don't have to worry about that." "Why would you say that?" he asked, stopping by an old maple tree. "You live in a mansion. Duh." "You think it's that easy?" he snapped. "That I can just my whatever I want?" I was taken aback. "I didn't mean to offend you." "I don't have all the money in the world." "I never said you did." "That's not why� why you like me, is it?" The confident, content Alexander I'd seen a few days ago was nowhere in sight. Something was troubling Alexander and I had to get to the root of it. "What's wrong? You've never acted like this before. You really think I like you because you live in a mansion and have a butler? Besides, I don't like you-I love you." Alexander shook his head. He took my hands and drew me near. "So many things have changed so quickly. I just have to get things sorted out." "You don't have to save the world every day, you know." "We aren't going to be spending the time together that we once did." "I know. I'm trying to deal with it, too. I get lonely and miss you like crazy. But once your parents settle in, that will change. They'll get sick of you, like my parents get sick of me." Alexander cracked a smile. "Besides, we have time together now. I've been waiting all day to see you. Let's talk about us." "Or not," he said, his bad mood slowly disappearing. "We can talk later." He leaned against a tree outside the Mansion and kissed me. "Let's have some fun," he said. "Wasn't that fun? I thought it was." Alexander led me to Evans Park. He chased me around the jungle gym until I almost fainted from exhaustion. Out of breath, I flopped down on my back and gazed up at the stars. "I wish every night was like this." "If they were, then we wouldn't appreciate it." "Maybe so. But I'd like to live this way forever." "On your back staring at the stars?" "With you." I stroked Alexander's hair and he playfully kissed me. "It's not too late," I said. "For what?" "To make me like you." "Why do you have to be like me? Why can't you be like you?" "Fine, have it your way. I'll be boring and mortal for the rest of my life." "You think that I find you boring because you're not a vampire?" I sat up. "I'm not exciting. I can't fly and I don't sleep in a coffin and except for my clothes, I guess I'm pretty normal." I hated to admit it even to myself. "You are far from normal-you are extraordinary. You're free thinking, spirited, adventurous, and sometimes even dangerous. Not to mention irresistibly sexy!" "Flatter me more!" I said, and gave him a huge hug. "Imagine if I slept in your coffin every day-not just a few weeks during summer break." "I think about it every time I close the lid," I realized it was hard on Alexander, too. But he didn't complain. He kept his feelings to himself, and he seemed to dwell on the positive, not brood on the Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com)negative, like I did. I still had a lot to learn from my vampire-mate, Alexander Sterling.
7
"You'll never believe who I saw last night," Becky announced when she picked me up for school the following morning, I was fixing the indigo blue liquid eyeliner that I had accidentally smudged around my bag-ridden eyes, I was a vision of a true insomniac. Maybe there were advantages to not seeing one's own reflection. Becky followed me into my bedroom and I grabbed my backpack. "I saw Alexander's parents," Becky finally blurted out. Her words were like an electric shock. Suddenly I was wide awake, "You did?" I asked. "I still haven't seen them!" "I know, it was so weird." "What did they look like?" " I really didn't see them up close." " Then how did you know it was them? It might have been a couple wearing dark clothes," I rationalized. "Because I saw Jameson helping them out of the Mercedes." "Wow! Then you did see them. Tell me everything!" "I was driving Matt home from practice when we passed by the Emerson office building. The Mercedes was parked in front. Jameson opened the car door and a tall man in a cape stepped out with a lanky woman carrying an open umbrella. It wasn't raining. And even stranger, it was dark." "It was them!" I deduced as we headed out the door. "It had to have been." "Who carries an open umbrella at night under a perfect sky?" Becky asked. "Only the coolest people in the world!" The Emerson office building was a brand-new ten-story monolith. Businesses that once occupied the quaint and charming main square now inhabited the uncreative and antiseptic space. It was filled with everything from real estate to taxes. There was even a hair salon and a plastic surgery practice. "Curious. I wonder what they were doing there," I said. "Do you think Mrs. Sterling is getting a quick nip and tuck?" Becky asked. "I don't think she'd need it." "Maybe it's nothing more than boring tax advice," Becky offered when we got inside her truck. "So they're going out of the Mansion. And for some reason, I'm not going in. This calls for a Raven Madison-style investigation." I passed the school day away waiting for the final bell to ring and wondering why the Sterlings were checking out the Emerson at night.
8 Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) With the promise of a piping-hot Hatsy's burger and atomic fries, I bribed Becky into driving me to the Emerson building on our way home from school. It was like me to snoop, so I took advantage of my true nature. Of course, Becky was horrified with the whole idea and decided to wait in the car. "I need your help," I said. "You do so well on your own." "We can cover more terrain with two people. I want to know what they might have come here for." "Isn � t that spying? Maybe Alexander's father was getting a haircut. Why would that be such a big deal?" It wouldn't be if they weren't vampires, I wanted to say. "Nothing about them is usual" Becky put the truck in park. "Fine, I'll go myself. But leave the truck running in case I need a quick getaway." "Wait," she said, hopping out of the truck. "I'd better keep my eye on you." "Works every time," I mumbled. The Emerson building was like any other upscale office center. The blue and white glass structure was box-shaped. A three-tiered fountain highlighted the center of the building, and its Masonite floors sparkled as if they'd just been waxed. Becky appeared to be intimidated by what she thought was a security guard ready to arrest all teen loiterers. "It's an info desk," I said. "Chill out" I made my way to the elevators and scanned the alphabetized list of tenants hanging on the wall. "Now we have to see which one they went into," "I thought you just wanted to know what was in the building." I ignored Becky's comment. "They visited at night, so that should eliminate some of these." I dragged Becky into the male-only hair salon. "We only do men's hair," the overdyed red-haired receptionist said before I asked her a question. "I know. Did a couple come in last night?" "A male couple?" "No, a man and a woman. They're from Romania." "No." "Well, thanks for your help," I said. "One down, five hundred to go." We opened the glass doors to a Younger You cosmetic surgery office.
" Do you remember seeing a couple here yesterday?" I asked the receptionist, who could have doubled as a nurse. "Our client list is confidential" " I understand you can't tell me who visited your office, but you surely can tell me who didn't. So can you confirm that a man and woman from Romania didn't visit this office yesterday?" She rolled her eyes. "Yes." "Yes, they did?" "Yes, they didn't." Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) Becky was getting fed up. Not with the office workers - but with me. "How about I wait here?" she asked, pointing to the fountain. "Just stay with me. I won't appear to be such a crackpot you're by my side," I begged her. We got in the elevator and made our way floor by floor, office by office. "Did a couple come in here last evening dressed like me?" I'd ask, and each receptionist would gawk at me and respond similarly, "No. I think I'd remember." The last office was Berkley Realtors. "I'm tired. Please, let's go home " Becky pleaded. "But we only have one more to go " "I'm leaving," Becky said, exhausted. My feet hurt, too. And who knew, maybe one of these receptionists we spoke with wasn't working yesterday. "All right," I said, guiding my weary friend into the elevator. "Enough parent hunting for today�" "Tomorrow," Becky said as the elevator doors closed, "you can take the bus." 9
Guess who my dad and I saw last night when we were out to dinner at Brios?" Trevor asked me the following day before class as I opened my locker. "A cheerleader? A shopgirl? Or a teacher? You'll have to narrow it down. I can't keep up with who you are dating." "The Sterling ghosts." "No way." I dropped my backpack and faced him squarely. "You saw who?" "Mr. and Mrs. Death. You'd better tell those morbid mannequins to go back to the dungeon they crawled out of. I was so repulsed I lost my appetite." "Funny, you have the same effect on me." "They're even freakier than you are. Are you sure you aren't their spawn, too?" "What did they do? Who were they with?" I asked. "Haven't you met them yet?" Trevor seemed as surprised as I had been. "Of course. Several times." I picked up my backpack and began shoving textbooks into my locker. "You haven't, have you? I guess I'm not the only one who thinks you are weird. Alexander does, too." His comments were like a stake in my heart. "They met someone," he continued. "Mr. Berkley came over to their table. I thought he might faint, but he didn't. "Mr. Berkley of Berkley Realtors?" I then realized that his was the last suite in the Emerson building left to investigate. "Rumor Is that they want to buy the cemetery and move in." I was fuming. Trevor had seen the Sterlings before I had. Plus, I was angered that he was ridiculing Alexander's mother and father. "Maybe they want to buy your house and use your room for landfill," I countered. My mind raced as to how the Sterlings were acquainted with Mr. Berkley. Was he who they really saw at the Emerson building? Were they planning on buying Jameson his own place now that they were home? I'm sure there was a plausible explanation for their encounter. "Could you hear what they said?" I inquired. Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) "I think it was 'Can I borrow your blood?' How do I know what they said? So� when are we going to start our essays?" When I see my boyfriend's parents, I wanted to say. Instead I slammed my locker shut and stormed off.
I'd been kept in the dark long enough. Everyone in town seemed to have a Sterling parental unit sighting but me. I was going to make sure that all that changed. If the Sterlings weren't coming to me, I resolved, I'd go to them. As the sun set, I took my RBI (Raven Bureau of Investigation) accessories: small backpack, flashlight, and compact mirror. Garlic powder was not necessary and in this case would repel instead of attract the objects of my investigation. It wasn't the first time I'd snuck onto the Mansion's property. I knew the lawn and grounds better than I knew my own backyard. Still, there was one thing I hadn't counted on: The wrought-iron gate was locked. Alexander had been leaving it open, for my easy entrance. More had changed than I thought. I was going to have to scale the fence. I reached and tugged and climbed my way up to the top like I was on a Mount Everest expedition. I guess sleeping in the coffin for all those weeks during the day didn't do anything for my upper body strength. But I persevered. I kicked my foot over the top of the gate. A gargoyle stared at me. I let go and dropped down with a thud. The Mansion appeared to be empty. I was just about to sneak in when I heard a car pull up to the gate and park. The gate was being unlocked. I stole behind a bush. The Mercedes drove through the entrance and up the winding driveway. It parked in front of the Mansion. Jameson got out and two figures emerged from the car, followed by a third. Was it Alexander? It was so dark I couldn't make out my own boyfriend. From a safe distance, I followed the shadowy figures as they made their way inside the estate, which became illuminated by candlelight, room by room. Once again, I was alone. An outsider peering in. In Dullsville, at school, in my own family, and now with my boyfriend's family. I saw Alexander's attic room light up. I assumed Alexander was painting or maybe dreaming of me as I was dreaming of him. Two figures suddenly appeared at a window. I flung myself back into a bush against the gigantic house. I craned my neck and strained to see up to the second story. Two deadly pale faces peered out the curtainless window-like apparitions searching for something or someone they'd lost. The figures disappeared and the room went black, I had seen Alexander's parents! 10 I coasted my way home and was parking my bike in the garage when I heard the sound of something hovering a few feet away from me. Cautiously I tiptoed toward the door, my flashlight primed for any maverick vampires. Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) I saw nothing. Just my dad's parked SUV. I was sure it was a hungry raccoon foraging for leftovers in our garbage can. Then I heard a twig snap. And footsteps. I decided to make a run for it. Our back door was only ten yards away from the garage. All I could think of was Freddy Krueger. Michael Myers. Or hockey-masked Jason. Crazy horror movie stalkers haunted my thoughts. I'd seen far too many scary movies to shake them from my mind, Think kids shows, I thought. Barney. Teletubbies . Dora. Those images frightened me more. If I had my keys ready, I'd make it safely inside before anything could cause me bodily harm. I took a deep breath and geared up to charge forth. But before I took my first step, I was caught in a surprising trap. It wasn't Trevor blocking my escape in the shadow from the garage, or even the most nefarious vampire of all-Alexander's enemy, Jagger Maxwell. It was Alexander. "Oh� It's just you. Thank goodness!" I made my way to hug him, but he kept his arms folded. "Where were you?" he asked. He stood stern as my father had many times when I'd broken curfew. "I just went out for a ride," I said truthfully. "By yourself? At night?" "It's still early. My bike has a light on it." All true. "Then what's that for?" he asked, pointing to my flashlight. "Were you searching for something? Or rather someone?" "It's always good to have extra light. I'm not like you: I can't see in the dark." I grimaced, hoping he'd grin back. His stony expression remained fixed. "I went to your house," I confessed. "Everyone in Dullsville, including Matt, Becky, and Trevor, has spotted your parents. All I had was a vague memory of a portrait you'd painted of them. I wanted to see them for myself." I felt awful. My impatience had gotten the best of me once again. I'm not sure how I'd feel if Alexander was sneaking around my house, trying to ogle my parents as if they were subjects in a sideshow. I was no better than the local gossipmongers. I waited what seemed like an eternity for Alexander's response. I was so ashamed of myself I barely made eye contact. My boyfriend took my wrist and gently drew me to him. "I think I might have to place you under arrest for trespassing. But I always go easy on pretty girls who confess," he said ominously. "You knew, didn't you? I'm that predictable?" "It was just a matter of time before I spotted you hiding in our bushes." "So you're not mad?" "I'm not through with you yet. Are you prepared to accept your punishment?" I nodded reluctantly. I wasn't sure what a vampire's punishment might be. But I was ready to find out. "I sentence you to a thousand kisses," he said. "Can I begin now?" He finally smiled. I pressed my lips to his and snuggled against him. When we broke away, I apologized again. "It's okay. It's time that you meet them. But for tonight, you'll have to settle for me." Alexander winked. And for the next hour I continued to fulfill my sentence. Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) *** Another letter arrived mysteriously-only this time it was at my house. "You have mail," my mom said when I got home the following day. "It's on the kitchen table." I wasn't used to receiving cards when it wasn't my birthday or a holiday. Even if it was a college brochure, I was excited something was addressed to me. A deep purple envelope lay next to our pastel blue salt and pepper shakers. In beautiful black calligraphy it read: Miss Raven Madison. Like Alexander's mail it was devoid of postmarks or stamps. On the back it had a candle-waxed pressed seal of an S. I almost tore into it when I remembered how Alexander opened his mail. "Mom," I called. "Do we have a letter opener?" "I think there's one in your dad's desk." I opened the French doors to my dad's office. He had a dark oak desk topped with family pictures. I scanned the desk for any sharp objects but didn't find anything other than a few pens and a golf tee. I was growing antsy and rifled through his desk drawer. Finally, underneath a file folder, I found a gold letter opener, the end in the shape of a tennis racket. I carefully slit open the envelope. I pulled out the note card and read: Mr. and Mrs. Constantine Sterling request the pleasure of jour company for dinner this Friday at sunset The Sterling Mansion Benson Hill