Night School (17 page)

“But how? Your switcheroo trick isn’t going to work, now that everyone’s seen the real Sunny,” Jareth reminds me. “You may look a lot alike, but your hair is completely different. Not to mention your wings.” He gestures to my definitely inferior, stubby-feathered wings.

“Well, at least they’re not made of marabou,” I grouch as I scan the area, trying to remember if I know any good shortcuts from visiting the real Disney. My eyes fall on a small service door, tucked away into a dark corner. “I’ve got it!” I exclaim. “We’ll go underground.”

Jareth looks at me. “Underground?”

“Yes,” I reply impatiently, dragging Jareth over to the door. “How do you think employees get from one end of this place to another fast? Dodging tourists? I don’t think so. If this place is an exact replica of the Orlando park, which it seems to be, then there are underground tunnels under the whole thing linking all the various sections together.”

“That’s genius!” Jareth says, looking impressed. “There will certainly be fewer people down there. And we can take out any guards without worrying about tooth fire.”

We make sure no one’s looking, then quietly slip open the service door and step inside. Sure enough, a set of stairs leads down into the darkness. Luckily, as vampires, we can see well enough in the dark not to need a flashlight.

“Let’s go,” I say, taking the first step.

We head down into a twisty labyrinth of spider-webbed, dusty passages. Evidently the fairies don’t use these tunnels as much as the employees of Orlando Disney do. Following various signs posted at each intersection, we make our way toward the castle. We’re just about to turn the last corner, when Jareth grabs my arm, his face pale and worried.

“I hear something,” he whispers. “Kind of like bells—”

Suddenly, a brilliant white light flashes through the passageway and in steps a beautiful blond fairy with a perfect hourglass figure: big breasts, tiny waist, and a sparkly green tutu riding low on her perfect hips. My eyes widen as she puts one hand on her hip, her little red mouth set in a deep pout, and she shakes her head no.

I glance over at Jareth, who’s staring at the newcomer with shock and recognition in his eyes. “Is that ...?” he starts.

The fairy opens her mouth. But instead of words, all that comes out is the sound of tiny, tinkling bells.

Jareth nods grimly. “Tinkerbell,” he affirms.

I stare at the fairy. Tinkerbell? Are you kidding me? Man, this place gets weirder and weirder by the second. My mind races, trying to remember what I know about this legendary fairy from the movies, but I come up blank. All I know is she’s supposed to be pint-size—not six feet tall.

I step forward. “Please, Miss Bell,” I try to appeal to her. “We need to get to the castle. My sister’s getting married there today.”

Unfortunately, Tink doesn’t seem to care too much about Sunny’s impending matrimony or my mission to get to the church on time. She gestures for us to back up, scolding us again in her weird bell language.

“Aw, come on, Tink,” I try again. “Have a heart, please.”

She rolls her eyes and lets out an annoyed huff, then reaches into a little green satchel tied to her tiny waist and pulls out a handful of something sparkly.

“Pixie dust,” Jareth whispers hoarsely. “Rayne, we’ve got to run.”

But before we can even turn around, Tinker
bitch
brings the dust to her lips and blows it in our direction. My lungs seize up, filled with sparkles, and I start choking uncontrollably. Beside me, Jareth falls clumsily to the ground, incapacitated.

“The dust,” he moans. “Paralyzing ...”

Tinkerbell calmly walks over and grabs his fake wings, yanking them off of his back. She giggles in satisfaction, then turns to me. Behind her, Jareth moans in pain, completely paralyzed.

But I’m not. And now that I’ve survived the initial dose, I’m perfectly fine. Guess the stuff doesn’t work too well on real fairies.

Tinkerbell looks at me, her head cocked in question, probably wondering why I’m not paralyzed, too. She reaches for my wing. I slap her hand away.

“They’re real,” I inform her. “Unlike your breasts.”

Without any more warning, I lunge, slamming my hands into her chest. She tries to take flight, but the tunnel ceilings don’t give her enough air space to take off. Stumbling backward, she flails to maintain her balance, but I charge again, ready to take her down for good this time.

No one paralyzes my boyfriend. Especially not some nasty pixie.

But just as I’m about to knock her down, she snaps her fingers and suddenly she’s the pint-size Tinkerbell from the movies again. Damn it! Flitting around me, she nips at my skin with tiny, sharp teeth.

“Ow!” I cry, swatting at her like a fly. But she’s too quick—buzzing at my back and grabbing a handful of hair. She’s strong for someone so little and manages to jerk me backward. I lose my balance, careening to the ground, slamming my head against the concrete. Tinkerbitch laughs and floats up toward the ceiling, then dive-bombs down at me, armed with a tiny knife.

The knife, which feels like only a pinprick due to its diminutive size, gets lodged in my stomach. Tink lands on me, trying to pull her knife free to stab me again, but I close my fingers around her little body before she can fly off.

“Got you!” I cry, pinching her now
really
tiny waist. She squirms angrily in my grasp, but I hold on tight. I could easily squash her like a bug, but that seems kind of awful. I mean, killing Tinkerbell?

Unfortunately, my good-hearted hesitation gives her the opportunity to poof back to human size and I’m forced to let go. She’s now straddling me, knife back in her hand (which, luckily for me, is still pint-size).

Before I can react, she leaps to her feet, giving me a sound kick to the side of the head. The pain reverberates through me as I struggle to keep conscious. But it’s not working. I quickly swim into blackness.

Yes, I’m afraid it’s true. I, Rayne McDonald, fairy, vampire, vampire-slayer extraordinaire, have just gotten my ass kicked by Tinkerbell.

27

I
wake up on a creaky cot, my back aching and my head pounding like a mother. Sitting up, I look around, trying to take in my surroundings. I appear to be in some kind of dark, dingy jail cell that smells a lot like a septic tank. In the opposite corner, there’s a small, dirty sink and a broken toilet filled with brown water. A
Saw
movie come to life.

I suck in a shaky breath. Okay. I’m alive. That’s something at least. Damn Tinkerbell. If I ever get my hands on that pixie, I’ll ...

A deep, familiar groan interrupts my thoughts of revenge. Diving out of bed, I dash to the front of my cell, my fingers brushing the bars. Pain reverberates through me at the touch of metal—a sick burning feeling—and I quickly step back. They must be made of iron—poison to fairies.

Jareth is in the cell across from me, lying prostrate on the ground, bare-chested. Smoke rises from his pure white skin, which has been draped with silver chains. Guess the fairies wanted to make double sure he didn’t use his powers to escape, seeing as vampires aren’t allergic to iron like fairies are. Thank goodness they must have assumed I was just one of them, due to my wingspan and immunity to pixie dust. Though the iron bar thing is going to make it very tough to escape.

“Jareth!” I hiss, trying to wake him.

He tosses his head from side to side, still groaning in his sleep, clearly in agony. I bite my lower lip in worry; if he doesn’t regain consciousness and remove his chains soon, the silver will kill him.

“Jareth!” I try again, louder this time. “Wake up!”

“Hey, we’re trying to sleep over here!” a man cries from the cell directly to my right. I turn to yell back at him, but the words die in my throat as my eyes fall upon two people—a man and a woman—huddled under ratty blankets in the next cell.

“Mom?” I cry, my voice cracking in a mixture of excitement and horror. “Dad?”

The two look up, their faces white with shock. A split second later, they’re on their feet and in front of the adjoining cell wall, careful not to touch the bars. Mom reaches through, clasping my hand in hers and squeezing me so tightly at first I wonder if she’s going to break bone. But I don’t really mind the pain. It’s so good to see her again. To see both of them. I hadn’t realized how much I missed them until now. My mom’s soft scent of honeysuckle. My dad’s favorite Old Spice aftershave. I don’t know how it’s possible they smell so good down here in this dirty fairy jail cell, but somehow they do all the same.

“What are you doing here?” Mom demands. “I thought Heather relocated you somewhere safe.”

“Safe isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe Riverdale,” I tell them. “And besides, the fairies came and kidnapped Sunny. I had to come rescue her.”

Mom’s face crumbles and her hands drop to her sides in defeat. “So they did get her after all,” she says sorrowfully. “We weren’t sure. We were taken prisoner from your dad’s condo and have been down here in this cell ever since, begging for an audience with the prime minister.”

I stare at her in shock. And here I was complaining about the isolation of Riverdale. Mom and Dad had it a billion times worse.

“I’m so sorry,” I cry. “I had no idea ...”

“The prime minister didn’t appreciate the fact that we fought back when his soldiers came to collect you two the first time,” Dad explains. “We never got a chance to negotiate as we had planned to.”

Horror sweeps through me as I remember the fight. How I stabbed Apple Butter. How everyone freaked out about it. “It’s my fault!” I realize, guilt stabbing me like a sharp stake to the heart. “It’s my fault you’re here.”

“No, no!” Mom cries, shaking her head vehemently. “Rayne, don’t blame yourself for one second. We were the ones who ran away from fairyland to begin with. We put you in this position. You only did what you thought was right to protect your family. And you should never, ever be ashamed of that.”

I don’t know if I can completely accept this, but I decide to move on anyway. I’ve learned the hard way that guilt is just way too unproductive in these kinds of scenarios. “What about Heather?” I ask. “I thought she was going to go help you with negotiations.”

Mom and Dad glance at one another and I catch the worry in their faces. “We haven’t seen or heard from her since that night at the condo,” Dad says at last. “We sort of figured she stayed with you two.”

I shake my head. “I hope she’s okay ...”

“Rayne McDonald!” Mom says suddenly, her voice sharp. “You have wings!”

My face heats. “Oh yeah,” I say, positive I’m blushing deep red. “I ... um ... well, it’s a long story, really.”

Mom opens her mouth—probably to lecture me some more—but at that moment, Jareth lets out another loud groan. I whirl around, praying he’s at least regained consciousness. Happy family reunion or not, I have to get him out of those chains.

“Jareth!” I cry.

“Is that your boyfriend, Rayne?” Mom asks, squinting her eyes at the unconscious vampire. “He looks familiar.”

I nod miserably. “Yeah, that’s Jareth.”

“What is he doing here? Rayne, we told you not to mix up any mortals in this,” Dad rebukes me sternly. “It’s too dangerous.”

I draw in a breath. Here goes nothing. “He’s not mortal, Dad. Look at those silver chains burning his skin.”

Dad’s eyes widen in realization. “He’s not a ...?”

“Vampire? Yes. He is.”

Both my parents shriek in unison and shrink back in their cells.

“You’re dating a vampire?” Mom cries. “Oh, Rayne! How could you? First you turn yourself into a fairy after I specifically told you not to, and then you tell me you’re dating a vile, disgusting creature of the—”

“Mom, stop it!” I interrupt, more than a little annoyed at their reactions. “You can yell at me all you want later. Ground me—whatever. But right now, we need to focus on getting out of here so we can save Sunny.” I mean, they’re both freaking fairies, for goodness’ sake! How can they be so prejudiced against vampires? And what would they do if they knew yours truly was also one of these so-called disgusting creatures of the night?

Mom falls silent, but she doesn’t look too happy. Geez, even trapped in a fairy jail, I manage to get the parental units mad at me. I have such a knack.

I turn to my dad, realizing he’s shaking his head. “Honey, there’s no way out of here,” he informs me, his voice filled with sorrow. “We’ve tried, believe me. Since the day we got here.”

I frown, refusing to accept his words. I’ve been in tight situations before and I’ve always managed to come through. Even at Night School, where I was sure we were doomed. I just called for help and ...

That’s it! I can try to channel Magnus. Let him know where we are. I wonder if it’s dark yet. I don’t think Jareth can hold off much longer. I close my eyes and picture the coven leader in my mind, then push my cry for help, just in case.

I open my eyes. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see. I could really use Corbin’s whole kung fu grip thing right about now. I wonder if he’ll have normal vampire powers or be gimped like me, since he was bitten by Jareth. Poor Corbin. If only I hadn’t vampire scented him to begin with ...

That’s it!

“Hey!” I start screaming at the top of my lungs. I take off my shoe and bang it against the cell bars. “Guard! I need some water. Come here and give me some water!”

Mom and Dad look at one another, then at me. “What are you doing?” Dad hisses.

“Trust me,” I mouth, then bang some more. “Hey, jailkeeper dude! Get your ass over here. Now!”

It takes about five minutes, but finally a grumpy-looking dwarf (maybe Grumpy himself?) waddles up to the cell, peering at me with an annoyed look on his pockmarked face. “Cut the racket, Fairy!” he snarls. “I’m trying to read.” He holds up a brand-new copy of
Snow White
.

“The prince kisses her awake and they live happily ever after,” I say. “Now focus. I need you to let me out of this cell.”

He rolls his eyes. “And why should I do that?” he demands.

Here goes nothing. I turn on the vampire scent full blast and get down on my knees so I’m eye level to him. “Please, my height-challenged friend,” I say. “I would be oh so appreciative.” I bat my eyelashes at him seductively.

“Do you have something in your eye?” he asks gruffly, not even remotely taking the bait. Damn it. It must not work on dwarves. Just my luck.

I grab him by the shirt collar, pulling him against the cell bars, careful not to touch them myself. “Let me out!” I cry.

But sadly, I don’t have a kung fu grip. Especially not after Grumpy calmly reaches to his side and pulls out an electric baton, zapping me in the shoulder. “Ow!” I cry, letting go and rubbing my burnt skin angrily.

“That’s for grabbing me!” he snarls. Then he turns up the heat and strikes me again. This time, I’m thrown to the back of the cell from the force of the electric charge. My hand lands in the toilet. Ew.

“And that’s for spoiling my book!” he adds.

Defeated, I watch as he stomps angrily back down the hall.

“Rayne, are you okay?” Mom asks worriedly.

“Yeah,” I mutter, scrambling to my feet. Of course I can’t tell her that as a vampire, I heal quickly. Not after the reaction she had to Jareth being one. Coming out of the coffin to her someday is definitely not going to be easy. “I’ll be fine. I’m just mad my plan didn’t work.”

“Actually, it worked perfectly!”

I look up, my eyes widening as I see Francis step into the corridor. He has Grumpy by the neck, in what appears to be a perfect kung fu grip. Behind him are Magnus and the other vampires.

“Was someone in need of a fairy-tale rescue?” he asks with a grin.