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    Authors: Adam Selzer

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    I felt my stomach knotting up and my cheeks burning.

    “And the best part,” said Gregory between his gales of laughter, “is that her stupid plan actually worked better than anything your peanut brain came up with! Or it would have, if Fred wasn’t in several pieces right now.”

    “So that’s why she converted,” I said. “You told her Fred died, and she thought she’d die if she didn’t convert, since I couldn’t kiss him at the dance. Did you make a few bucks off it from your vampire friend?”

    The little booger grinned at me. “What’s that line from
    Music Man
    ? The thing about the piper?”

    “From the first song?” I asked.

    “Yeah.”

    “ ‘When the man dances, certainly, boys, what else? The piper pays him.’ ”

    “That’s me!” said Gregory, as he went into dancing one of his little jigs. “When I dance, certainly, boys, what else? The piper pays me! Now go get your boyfriend and tell him it’s time to get converted. Hoo hoo!”

    I started to wander back to the front of the store.

    This didn’t make any sense. He was changing the rules on me! He had said before that he couldn’t control things that well, and now he was acting like he could.

    And he was lying outright about getting Mutual a ticket
    after
    I wished for him.

    And then I thought of the last thing he said.

    The thing about the piper.

    It was a line about Harold Hill. A con artist.

    I felt like there were wheels in my head that were starting to turn. I could hear the clink of the gears and everything.

    Gregory had to have known Mutual was on his way to town. There was no way his showing up—as the result of a mysterious ticket—could be a coincidence. And if Gregory had sent him the ticket before he spoke to me, it wouldn’t have been magical.

    But Gregory could have dropped off the ticket himself. And picked up a postcard to leave in the wagon while he was at it.

    And how did he know about Mutual’s parents signing him a letter of intent? Had Smollet told him?

    Pieces began to fit together as I walked back into the ice cream shop.

    Click. Click. Click
    .

    “Where did you go?” asked Amber, when I made it back to the booth. “Did you pee behind the bushes or something?”

    “I hate these places that don’t have a bathroom,” said Jason.

    I shook my head.

    “Are you okay?” Amber asked.

    I just sat there for a second, thinking.

    “Hello?” said Amber. “Earth to Jennifer!”

    I turned to Mutual.

    “You don’t have any money,” I said.

    “No. I ran out in Nebraska.”

    “But you took a cab to Jason’s house, all the way from downtown to Preston. How could you afford the fare?”

    “I didn’t have to pay,” he said. “Some cabdriver offered me a free ride from the Greyhound station.”

    “Was it a short guy?”

    “Yeah. He had to sit on a stack of phone books just to see over the dashboard. I think I saw him in that bar we went into with Fred, but I was too nervous to say hi to him, and he was gone when Fred and I came back inside.”

    Click, click, click
    .

    “Was it the same guy who brought you the FedEx package with the ticket?”

    “I don’t think so,” said Mutual. “That guy was all bundled up—but he was pretty short, come to think of it.”

    “And did you give him a postcard hoping he’d mail it?”

    “Of course. I gave everyone I possibly could a postcard for you. I used to keep one in my pocket all the time, just in case.”

    Click, click, click
    .

    Gregory was definitely behind everything that had happened that week.

    And the fact that the terms of the spell seemed to change, along with the rules about whether they
    could
    be changed, was fishy as hell.

    I let the wheels in my head turn until I had put the pieces together. Once I got the first few, the rest fell into place almost on their own. I felt like the biggest idiot in the world for not figuring it out sooner.

    But I was no “stupid, ordinary little girl.”

    And Gregory Grue was no fairy godmother.

    He was a barefaced, double-shuffle, two-bit, thimble-rigging, sick bastard con artist who tricked girls into thinking they would die if they didn’t consent to become vampires!

    In fact, he must have been a vampire himself. If he was the kind who could play tricks on people’s brains, it would explain almost everything he had done that seemed magical. All the vanishing glitter, faces in smoke—everything could have just been an illusion. He probably even sent the dreams about Fred into my head.

    And considering what he’d had Fred do in those dreams, this guy was
    way
    out of line.

    There was no vampire buddy. Just him. He was the one doing the converting. As soon as the idea occurred to me, I was sure I was right. I felt a bead of sweat run down the side of my face and a sharp pain in my sinuses.

    “You okay?” asked Mutual.

    “Let me think a few more seconds.”

    Click, click, click
    .

    Maybe he had even come after me with the full blessing of Mutual’s parents, so that when I converted, they’d have that as leverage on him. That would explain how he had known they’d signed a letter of intent for him when he was a minor. And why he’d sent Mutual to Iowa to start with.

    I still didn’t know where he’d gotten the unicorn, but I was certain there was no spell that would kill me at the end of the dance. Or if I kissed Mutual again.

    Vampires couldn’t do “magic.” Just cheap tricks.

    I looked over at Mutual, Jason, and Amber.

    “Uh, guys?” I said. “I think we may have just trashed the school for nothing.”

    “Are you kidding?” said Jason. “This is going to freak people out!”

    “It’s the most amazing night of my life,” said Amber. “Fred would be proud of you!”

    “But we didn’t need to do it,” I said. “I wouldn’t have died. There’s no fairy curse or anything going on here. It’s all just a trick to make me convert so Mutual will.” I frowned. “And I think I know who killed Fred. Just to make sure I wouldn’t be able to kiss him.”

    “What?” said Amber. “Who?”

    “Gregory Grue is no fairy godmother,” I said. “Or any other kind of fairy. He’s a fake! And he doesn’t know the territory!”

    “What?” said Jason.

    “He killed Fred and converted Cathy, and he paid for Mutual’s ticket and then gave him a free cab ride.”

    “It was that guy?” asked Mutual. “
    That
    was the guy who said he was a fairy godmother? The cabdriver?”

    “Yeah,” I said. “I think so. He wants to trick me into
    converting so
    you
    will. He might even be working for your parents.”

    “Well, I knew that guy was a vampire,” said Mutual. “There was an empty can of VS Thirty-Two in his cup holder in the cab!”

    “See?” I shouted. “He just told me we’d both die if I ever kissed you again, but I think he was just trying to scare us both into converting. Do you feel like taking a chance?”

    He nodded.

    “It’s life or death,” I said. “I’m sure I’m right, but if I’m wrong, we’ll both drop dead.”

    “I don’t care,” he said. “It’s worth it.”

    And I leaned over, grabbed the back of his head, closed my eyes, and pulled him toward me, giving him the biggest, sloppiest, most passionate kiss I possibly could.

    As Fred’s lips pressed against hers, Jenny—Princess Jenny—felt herself changing. She felt the world changing. She felt her soul touching his.

    twenty-four

    Actually, change the names around and that would be just about right. That’s exactly what that kiss felt like.

    After I ran out of breath, I pulled back and looked down at my hands, as one does when one is checking to see if one is still alive.

    They were still there.

    “Still breathing?” I asked Mutual.

    He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah with a capital Hell.”

    I laughed—it was still weird to hear Mutual use even the most minor swear words.

    “So where’s this Grue guy now?” asked Jason. “I’ll kick his ass clear back to Alaska!”

    “No offense, but he’d hand yours back to you,” I said. “He may be short, but he’s still a vampire. Let me get the honor guard. This fairy godmofo’s going down.”

    “How long until they can get here?” asked Mutual.

    “I’ll text Murray and they’ll be here as soon as he gets the message,” I said. “If Gregory comes in, just stall him. Don’t tell him we’re on to him or there’s no telling what he might do.”

    I took out my phone and began to type a text message:

    GREGORY GRUE IS NOT A FAIRY, HE’S

    A VAMPIRE CON MAN. KILLED FRED
    .

    OUT TO CONVERT ME. BEHIND PENGUIN

    FOOT CREAMERY ON CEDAR AVE. I AM

    INSIDE. SEND HEL

    I wasn’t quite done when I heard a cough and looked up to see Gregory standing at our table.

    “Hoo hoo,” he said. “What’s taking you so long?”

    “Just clearing up our affairs,” I said.

    “No need,” he said. And he grabbed my phone out of my hand and slipped it into the inside pocket of his overcoat. “Better let me hang on to that for you,” he said. “It can mess with a conversion. Just like taking them on airplanes.”

    “That’s odd,” I said. “I’ve never heard that before.”

    “Now,” he said, “let’s get down to business before it’s too late. I called that Smollet woman, so school officials are heading for the gym right now.”

    He reached into his coat and pulled out two sheets of paper—letters of consent—from the same pocket where he was keeping my phone. I had to get that phone back, and fast.

    “Here we are,” he said. “Now, if you two could just hurry on up, I’ll see about getting you to sleep for the big operation.”

    And he reached into another pocket and pulled out his cigar. The one that would put me to sleep.

    “I don’t think you need to do that,” I said. “I’d actually rather stay conscious.”

    “Me too,” said Mutual. “I don’t like to lose control of myself.”

    “Yeah,” said Jason. “This is a drug-free zone around here, pal!”

    “Shut up,” said Gregory. “This doesn’t concern you!”

    Meanwhile, I was trying to think of what the heck Murray’s phone number was so I could say it out loud or write it down on the form and hope Amber would notice and call it.

    Gregory pulled out a match, lit it, and brought it to the cigar. It was barely an inch away when the clerk shouted out, “No smoking!”

    “Don’t mind us,” Jason told him. “We’re all just leaving. Right?”

    “Thank God,” said the guy.

    “You shouldn’t talk about your customers like that,” said Jason. “That’s pretty lousy customer service.”

    “You got a mouth on you, kid,” Gregory said to Jason. Then he turned to the clerk. “We’ll get outside as soon as these two sign the papers.”

    “No,” said the clerk. “Right now. They can sign them on the picnic tables out there. I want you out of my store.”

    Gregory rolled his eyes.

    “Let’s go, kids,” he said. “I’d hate to have this kid get the assistant manager. I hate everything about assistant managers except their sweet, crunchity taste.”

    We all stood up and wandered outside. All the while, I
    thought of ways to get my phone out of Gregory’s pocket. I let him out the door first, then turned back to the clerk.

    “Call the police, please,” I said.

    “I don’t think I’ll need to go that far,” he said.

    Damn.

    When I got out, Gregory lit his cigar.

    “Hold on,” I said. “I think we should sign the forms first. That cigar might put us to sleep before we can sign.”

    “Well, hurry it up,” he said.

    He laid the forms on the little picnic table and set out a couple of pens.

    I figured that if I signed, he’d have to open his coat back up to put it back inside. Granting this guy consent to convert me was the absolute last thing in the world I wanted to do, but it might have been my only chance to get him caught.

    “Come on,” he said. “No time like the present. Not to rush you, but I have a train to catch this evening.”

    “Getting out of town?” I asked. “Without even finishing the show?”

    “Hate to break it to you, kiddo,” he said. “You won’t be seeing me again.”

    “You’re just like Harold Hill, all right.”

    “Hey, Harold Hill improved the lives of those dumb Iowans,” he said. “Just like I’m improving yours!”

    I took a deep breath. It was easy to imagine that in earlier days, Gregory might have been a crooked traveling salesman. I’ll bet lots of vampires were—it was a perfect job for them. You never had to stay anywhere long enough for people to realize you weren’t aging.

    “So, how’s this going to work?” I asked as I pretended to read over the form. “I sign, you put me to sleep, then you cart me away?”

    “That’s right,” he said.

    “What about me?” said Mutual. “Who’s going to do the operation on me?”

    “I’ll have my buddy get in touch with your parents,” said Gregory. “They’ve got someone in mind, right?”

    Mutual cringed.

    “That’s what I thought,” said Gregory. “They’ll be here in seconds, I’m sure. You can just sleep on this table or something. It’ll be good for your back!”

    “Well,” I said, “I guess I’d better hurry, then.”

    And I walked up to the picnic table and signed my name on the form. Gregory grinned, took a drag on his cigar, and blew a puff in my face.

    I tried not to inhale, but my eyelids felt heavy immediately.

    “There you go,” he said. “Have a seat at the table and just relax. You’ll be out like a light in a few minutes.”

    And he set my form on the table.

    “Okay,” he said. “One down, one to go.”

    He turned toward Mutual and I leaned in to Jason. “Get ready to act,” I said. “If we can distract him for even a second, grab that phone!”

    Gregory turned back to me. I’d forgotten how well he could hear.

    “Still out to get your phone back?” he asked.

    “I should really call my mom,” I said, “just to keep her from worrying about me.”

    “I’ll take care of it,” he said. “I’m a teacher, after all.”

    My eyelids got heavier and heavier.

    Gregory turned away again, and I saw Jason mouthing the words “Distract him!” at Mutual.

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