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We don't have much time. I tried to pull it, but it didn't budge. Then I noticed a blood-red party-size cooler. It's like dating a superhero. It was hard. But he was no longer standing behind me. Darkest Mercy.

In crooked handwriting was marked: Jagger Maxwell. The upper-left-hand corner was stamped: It was the nocturnal gothic club where I'd first encountered Jagger.

The box had been ripped open, as if severed with razor-sharp teeth. Alexander pulled back the flaps and showed me the contents. It was a vampire's treasure chest: Fresh off the necks of the Coffin Club clubsters, who I'd seen wearing their blood as innocent charms, these vials now in turn were serving as a teen vampire's nourishment. He couldn't make his presence known.

This was his only means of survival. Instead of returning the box underneath the tree, he stuck it in his backpack. He needs two now. He would be tipping back several amulets, like the tiny bottles of liquor anxious travelers sip on airplanes, while he plotted her visit and their next location.

I wasn't ready for my vampire hunting to end. But instead of walking hand in hand with Alexander, his hands were buried in his pockets. He seemed unusually cold and distant.

Alexander stopped and turned to me. I only want you to be safe. But…" He folded his arms, leaned against a parked SUV, and looked toward the moon. It was one thing to push my parents over the edge with my princess of darkness wardrobe, or to stay out past curfew, or even to boss Becky into climbing over the Mansion's gate or to convince her to sneak into movies, but I'd never felt as rotten as I now did, disappointing the one person who meant the most to me.

He put his hands back in his oversized pockets and avoided eye contact. I'm just asking you to be careful. I just don't want us to be apart—even for a moment. But I'll try harder. I'm all about plans! Where do we start? I have to endure unbearably boring teachers, classmates who ostracize me, and two yuppie parents who don't get black lipstick. During the long midnight hours, I hang out underneath your window and imagine what you're dreaming of.

I used to thrive in the darkness; now I almost resent it. Instead of taking the path that led to my front door, Alexander escorted me toward my backyard. We can't let Jagger spoil our night," I cheered. I'm not ready to say good-bye just yet," he confessed. He quickly shielded his pale face and retreated into the shadows. Alexander didn't answer. I followed him into the grass, toward our east-side neighbor's fence.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, though I still couldn't see him. Are you hurt? I followed the sound, which continued back over the driveway in the opposite direction from where I had been standing. When I walked through my backyard, there was a rustling in the bushes by our west-side neighbor's fence. Alexander was standing in front of them.

It's like dating a superhero. Before he could answer, I was in his arms. But a burst of high-powered light repels me. We don't have much time. I could feel my pale face flush, exhilarated that I was finally able to share a place I'd spent in childhood isolation. We each sat on a faded yellow plastic swing. I began swinging, but Alexander remained still.

He picked up twigs and threw them into the bushes, as if he were tossing Jagger out of Dullsville… I skidded my combat boots into the weathered patches of grass. If he isn't in a cemetery and we don't have a Coffin Club in Dullsville, where could they be? He sees the world in black and red—blood red. I see the world in all different colors. Look at Trevor and me.

We're human, but total opposites," I reassured him. Alexander broke into a smile. Then we'd never be in this mess. I led Jagger right to you, and Luna straight to Trevor. If I'd said yes to Luna at the covenant ceremony in Romania, none of this would have happened. And that is the most important thing. The stars shone in the night sky.

The sweet smell of Drakar filled the air. The crickets seemed to be singing for us. Just then my bedroom light switched on.

Billy Boy jumped in front of the window, with his back toward us, hugging himself. From our vantage point, he appeared as if he were making out with a girl. Alexander laughed at my little brother's antics. Billy Boy held Nightmare in his hands and waved her paw at me. You'll give her fleas! He adores you. I'd spent my whole life as an outsider. Even though Alexander and I had been dating for a few months, it was still hard to get used to the fact that anyone would think I was normal, much less cool.

He grabbed my hand and began walking me to the front door. Alexander smiled at my tireless efforts but then turned serious.

When we reached the front doorstep, he went on, "You understand, I'll have to search for them alone. And you need me—it's like Batman without Robin. I know all the creepy places to hide in this town. I leaned in to him and gave him a huge squeeze. I unlocked the front door. Alexander had already vanished, just like any great vampire would.

I was sitting on my black beanbag chair recording the evening's events in my journal. I was too preoccupied with thoughts of Luna and Jagger to sleep. I imagined the two of them flying through Dullsville's night sky together, looking down on Dullsvillians who would look like tiny nobodies as they got stuck in traffic, played golf, and dined in outdoor restaurants. I imagined the twins hiding in a basement-turned-dungeon, Jagger with pet tarantulas, and Luna dolled up in dresses made out of spiderwebs.

A scratching sound began outside my window. Nightmare jumped up on my computer desk and hissed at the darkness. I raced to my window. There were no signs of anything living or undead outside. I closed the curtains and held an anxious Nightmare in my arms. There could have been a number of vampires lurking outside my window under the night sky. I just didn't know which one. I pondered placing a garlic clove on the windowsill, but I might repel the very vampire I wanted to attract.

He was sporting a black Alice Cooper T-shirt and oversized black pants riddled with safety pins. His dark eyes looked tired. I even found a dried-up well. The only thing in it was a broken bucket. I've been rattling my brain ever since and I didn't sleep all day. Plus that means he'll have to miss games and practices. It'll make it very hard for Jagger and Luna to take him to sacred ground if he's stuck inside.

We'll have more time to find the Maxwells before they find him. But we have to do it quickly. The longer that Jagger and Luna wait for Trevor, the hungrier they will get. It was hard. There aren't that many creepy places in this candy-colored town. I came up with ten—if you include my algebra class itself. Miller caught me writing in my notebook instead of figuring out what x plus y equaled and he confiscated my list. I found a place I'd like to check out. But you have to promise me—" "That I will love you forever?

That's easy," I said, running my finger along one of the safety pins adorning his pants. That is totally dark, secluded, and big enough for a cemetery full of coffins. We left behind the twisty road of Benson Hill and headed past Dullsville High, through downtown, and finally over the railroad tracks into what the country clubsters called the "wrong" side of town.

Spanning thirty-five acres, the Sinclair mill was surrounded by trees, overgrown bushes, and weeds. On the west side, a stagnant, murky creek barely rose during sporadic rainfalls. Fragrant wild flowers never seemed to mask its pungent smell. The mill thrived in the s, manufacturing uniforms for the war, employing hundreds of Dullsvillians.

The once proudly puffing red-tiled S smokestack now stood silent. After the war the mill was bought by a linen company but ultimately couldn't compete with outsourcing, and the factory went bankrupt.

Now the Sinclair mill loomed over Dullsville like a listless monster. Half the factory's windows were blown out, and the others needed a gazillion liters of Windex. Police cars routinely patrolled the area, trying to deny graffiti artists a thirty-acre canvas. Alexander parked the Mercedes next to several rusty garbage barrels.

As soon as we stepped foot onto the grounds, we heard a barking off in the distance. We paused and glanced around. Maybe it was Jagger. Or maybe it was my own boyfriend's presence that was disturbing the dogs. Supposedly, when the factory first opened, a fateful accident occurred when an elevator malfunctioned and plummeted to the basement, claiming several employees' lives. A rumor spread throughout Dullsville that on a full moon, a passerby could hear the mill workers' screams.

But the only ghosts I'd heard shrieking were actors covered in sheets when I was a child. Alexander lit the way with his flashlight. I pulled the heavy door open and we crept inside. A few spray paintings of humorous epitaphs remained on the concrete walls. Alexander and I cautiously walked over discarded boxes and headed for the main part of the factory. The twenty-five-thousand-square-foot room was empty of everything but dust. Round, discolored markings remained on the wooden floors where the machines had been bolted in place.

Half the panes of glass were gone after decades of vandals, baseballs, and misguided birds. We passed through what must have been an employee locker room. The windowless room seemed ripe for a vampire to call home. Several metal lockers remained against the wall and even a few wooden benches. It now seemed like a dumping ground for garbage, littered with pop cans, bags, and a few discarded bicycle tires.

No coffins were evident. The basement was huge, cold, and damp. Several mammoth-size furnaces filled the center of the room. I could almost hear the deafening roar of the once-burning kindling. Now the metal doors were rusty and unhinged, and a few were lying against the cement wall.

I wouldn't have to go to school and it could be dark twenty-four hours a day. Just then we heard a barking sound. Alexander raised his eyebrow and listened. In a small alcove Alexander found another staircase and lit our way back to the main floor. While Alexander explored an office room, I investigated a hallway filled with boxes, a piece of cardboard covering a window, and a Stone Age freight elevator.

I removed the cardboard from the window to shed streetlight into the oversized lift. The heavy metal elevator door hung partially open. I couldn't see clearly into it, so I snuck underneath the rusty door. When I stepped into the elevator, I heard a horrible screeching sound. I quickly turned around as the door slammed shut.

I stood in total darkness. I couldn't even-see my own hands. Let me out! I banged my hands against the door. I'm in the elevator! The surface was smooth. I fingered the adjacent wall and discovered what I thought might be a lever. I tried to pull it, but it didn't budge. Normally I was comforted by darkness and found solace in tightly enclosed places.

But now I was trapped. My mind began to think of the poor souls who found their fate sealed in an elevator at the Sinclair mill. I imagined bloody fingernails stuck to the inside door from decades of entombed young vandals. I felt like I was going to be trapped forever. I heard the cables rattling.

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Then heavy footsteps walked on the boards above me. Get me out! I even thought I heard the screams of the ghosts—until I realized the screams were coming from me. Suddenly the door pulled open, and I could barely see the oversized black pants and combat boots standing before me. My eyes squinted, trying to adjust to the moonlight that shined through the uncovered hallway window.

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I was standing in the middle of an oval-shaped ring of dirt, the front part messy, as if something heavy had dragged over it. Alexander pulled me out before the door closed again. I squeezed him with the little breath I still had in me. But I think you found something. Gravestone etchings covered the walls. In the corner sat an antique candelabra and a pewter goblet. Jagger could remain undiscovered for several eternities in this place. And this elevator could easily fit two coffins.

While Alexander examined the elevator, I tried to catch my breath and combed the hallway for any more clues. Next to the boxes I noticed something silver catching the moonlight. Alexander came over to me and examined my discovery. At that moment, standing in the window right behind him, was a ghostly, attractive teen with white hair, the ends dyed bloodred.

His eyes, one blue and one green, stared through me. He's here now! He's right outside! Jagger flashed a wicked grin, his fangs gleaming. Alexander quickly turned around, but Jagger had vanished. Alexander took off and I followed him back through the factory, past the ghostly Halloween props and out the front door.

When we reached the gravel drive, Alexander suddenly stopped next to the Mercedes. He pressed the keys to the car in my hand and handed me the flashlight. I'll meet you there in half an hour," he said. Alexander closed the door.

When I glanced back to say good-bye, he had vanished. I locked the door and put the key in the ignition. As the crickets chirped and Alexander continued his search alone, I grew anxious. What if something happened to him? I couldn't hear his calls if I was miles away atop Benson Hill. I checked my container of garlic sealed safely inside my purse.

I got out of the car and stuck the keys into my back pocket. I raced toward the east side of the factory with the flashlight in my hand. The mill grounds had an eerie quietness to them. I felt as if someone were watching me. I looked up at the sky. I saw what appeared to be a bat hanging from the power lines above me. When I shined my light on the wire, it was gone.

I turned the corner of the factory to find Alexander pacing outside the hallway window. Not twenty feet from where we were standing I could see plain as daylight what had threatened Jagger—a giant wrecking ball. In fact, an empty garage was an awesome hiding place for a vampire. If a family were on vacation, they would have to drive the hour and a half to the nearest airport, therefore giving vacancy to a waiting coffin.

With no one in the residence, Jagger and Luna could go undetected long enough to seduce Trevor into their vampirey lair. If Alexander and I walked from garage door to garage door, it could take decades to discover which one Jagger and Luna were calling their latest batcave.

By then Trevor would be "fluless" and return to practice in enough time for Luna to have sunk her fangs into him and the entire Dullsville High soccer team. I hardly spoke to anyone in this town, much less knew the travel plans of the other Dullsvillians.

I had to figure out a way to find out who was traveling, their destinations, and the durations of their stays.

How could I get access to that information? Just then an idea struck me like a bolt of lightning. Of course I couldn't get the information—but I knew someone who could. The next day, after school, Becky drove me to the Armstrong Travel Agency. I missed the old girl. Since she'd begun dating Matt Wells and I'd met Alexander, we didn't have the endless free time to hang out, talk on the phone, or climb the Mansion's gates. So when we did have girl time, we made the most of it. I think the dude wants to play on the soccer team, but he doesn't even go to our school.

No one will take Matt's position away. Not even a vampire," I mumbled. I stepped out of the truck. I smiled at Ruby, who was seated at her desk, handing pamphlets to two customers. Ruby's friendly expression strained as I stood like an ill-mannered eyesore in the very conservative business. Finally the young couple with Mexico brochures in their hands rose.

They looked at me oddly, then cowered past, as if at any moment my bat body tattoo was going to jump off my arm and bite their heads off.

Is there something I can help you with? This is a travel agency, you know," she said with a smile. I believe they are living in a vacant garage, probably belonging to a vacationer, I wanted to say. I imagined Ruby's pleasant face turning to shock, then horror, then her plugging away at her keyboard for a list of addresses.

Save Dullsville. Save the world. You ought to know that; you worked here. Ruby appeared confused just as the phone rang. Can I help you make a reservation?

I fiddled with the white pens on her desk. The phone rang again, this time lighting up line two of Ruby's white phone.

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Ruby covered the receiver with her hand. Who did she think I was? I didn't work here anymore, and I most certainly wasn't on the clock. I went to Janice's desk, pressed line two, and picked up the phone. Can I book you a trip there? I'm interested in a vacation cruise to Alaska. Your cell is breaking up. You need Ruby to pick you up? Ruby switched lines just as line two's red light went dead. Maybe it wasn't her—" "No, she's been frazzled all day.

Ruby was making this difficult. I could see her mind race as she imagined me screeching down the street, blasting Marilyn Manson, and returning her car with newly painted black widow spiders running alongside the exterior. You wouldn't mind staying here for just a few minutes? I hate to close the agency. That's what I've always liked about you," she said as she raced out the door. I sat at Ruby's desk. I flipped through a Conde Nast magazine until I saw her get in her white Mercedes and drive off.

Now that I was employed again, even if only for twenty minutes, it was part of my job to be informed. I logged on to her computer using the same password I had when I was in her employ. Wearing my Olivia Outcast backpack, I hopped on my mountain bike and headed for Loveland. On the good side of the tracks sat Loveland, a quiet, middle-class community filled with vintage and modern homes.

I stopped at the corner of Shenandoah Avenue.

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I put on my sunglasses and Emily the Strange hoodie, so I wouldn't be recognized, though no one else in town dressed like I did. I pulled out my list of three Dullsvillian vacationers. For seven days and six nights, three Matten families—all related—were traveling to Los Angeles. I felt like a gothic Goldilocks as I crept up the first driveway. The senior Matten Victorian-style house was gigantic. Their three-car garage could easily fit a few cars and a few sleeping vampires. I pressed the silver button and waited for the white door to open.

It remained still. The one-car detached garage could barely fit a car, much less a coffin. I pressed the door opener anyway, but the door didn't budge. Determined to find my nocturnal bounty, I made my way across the street, to the third Matten house. The Tudor-style home had a backyard garage hidden by a few trees. Their two-car garage seemed just right. Only it wasn't. The door didn't move. Frustrated, I checked my list again.

By the time I headed for Oakley Village, I felt like I needed a few blood-filled amulets to recharge my pounding heart. Oakley Village was a prosperous community of ultra-upscale homes. A who's who of successful Dullsvillians. I discovered on Ruby's computer that the Witherspoons, a retired couple who had just sold Witherspoon Lumber, were booked on a trip to Europe. They had departed three days ago and were scheduled to return in thirty days.

I rode up Tyler Street and turned into number The Witherspoons lived in a beautiful yellow-shuttered Victorian-style home with an attached three-car garage. I quickly snuck up their driveway. I checked out my surroundings to make sure there weren't any nosy neighbors eyeballing me. When I saw I was in the clear, I aimed the opener at the door. I took a deep breath and pressed the silver button. I pressed it again. Nothing happened.

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This couldn't be! I tapped it over and over. Still, the door remained fixed. I ran to the front of the house and pressed my face against the carport's yellow-shuttered window.

The garage was empty of cars and coffins. I stormed down the driveway to retrieve my bike and checked my Hello Batty watch. I had only a few more hours left of sunlight until this hunter would become the hunted.

I held the door opener in my hand. Which garage did it belong to? Frustrated, I decided to return home, wait until sunset for Alexander to awake, then confess I hadn't made any Underworldly discoveries.

I coasted down the winding road, heading for a shortcut through the Oakley Woods. I began riding over the bumpy terrain, but then I saw something odd. Sticking out from behind a large pile of wood chips was a vintage hearse!

I pulled my bike up alongside the ghastly car. The circa s Cadillac midnight mobile was beautiful; it had a sleek, long black hood with a silver bat ornament, white-walled tires, a black carriage adorned with a chrome S-shaped insignia, and black curtains. On the left rear quarter panel was a decal of a white skull and crossbones.

I hopped off my bike and peered into the driver's seat, where I could see restored shiny black vinyl upholstered seats and a tiny white skeleton hanging from the rearview mirror.

I tried to peer in the back window, but the curtains were drawn. The license plate's county sticker was from Hipsterville—the town a few hundred miles away from Dullsville where the Coffin Club was and where I first encountered the nefarious Jagger. The license plate read: I BITE. I nearly jumped out of my boots. I turned around to find Billy Boy and Henry standing right in front of me. It is freaky," Billy Boy remarked. I discovered it yesterday on my way home from math club," Henry replied. But I think we could arrange that," I said.


Billy Boy backed away from the macabre mobile. Henry shook his head. I fingered the garage door opener in my hand. And then it hit me. There was only one person I knew in Dullsville who could help me whittle down my search—one person who could figure out how to use a garage door opener to unlock his locker or even unbolt his bedroom door. And his five-foot-two-inch nerd body was standing right in front of me. It's my civic duty to return it to its rightful owner. I'd say one out of ten homes use this manufacturer.

It's the same kind we use. And this one looks familiar. Can you tell me which homes might use them? I'd visited his house once before, when Becky and I were in need of accessories for our Kissing Coffins outfits.

Henry supplied us with fangs, blood pellets, and scars. I imagined bloodthirsty vampire twins anxiously waiting in coffins in his family's garage as he innocently played with fake blood and fangs above them in his bedroom. Then my thoughts turned serious. Behind that mechanical shield of wood might lie two sleeping teen vampires. When we reached his driveway I saw the three-car garage attached to his home.

And then, a few yards back, sat another two-car detached garage. One garage wasn't good enough? I thought as we approached Henry's house. It's supposed to rain.

I waited for a moment, walked my bike halfway down the driveway, then quietly doubled back. I rested my bike against the side of his brick house. Since Henry was staying with Nina, I assumed the attached garage, with the comings and goings of a preteen and a hardworking housekeeper, was too exposed for a hiding vampire.

But I peered into it anyway. I saw a vintage Rolls and shelves of tools. Now that Henry and Billy Boy were safely inside the house finding square roots, I ran to the detached garage. I took a deep breath and aimed the door opener. I pressed the silver button. The door didn't budge. The opener didn't click. The door remained still. I jumped back. The garage door began to open. Cover your eyes! It was too late. The garage door slowly opened like a creaky coffin lid. My heart stopped beating.

I could barely open my eyes. Then I saw them. Not one but two silver BMWs, both emblazoned with red Dullsville Middle School "I'm the proud parent of an honor student" bumper stickers. I went inside the garage and looked around, underneath, and inside the back of the luxury vehicles.

He aimed the opener toward the house and pressed the button. Suddenly floodlights, scattered around his property, illuminated the already sunlit backyard. I keep the lights on when my parents are out of town.

But since I lost it, it's been pitch-black back here. What did this have to do with Jagger? Why was he returning for it? Or was he making sure it was still there?

I walked past Henry's pool and garden and into his backyard to see what he needed to illuminate. The huge field was wasted on a boy who was more interested in throwing around scientific theories than footballs.

Then I saw it. In the far corner of the yard— at least sixty yards from where we stood— was an A-framed treehouse. I still had the protection of the sun's rays and the unyielding curiosity of a cat, but if I rode to the Mansion and waited for Alexander to wake up, then Jagger and Luna would be rising, too. The moon was ticking. My heart was pounding. First I had to make sure Henry and Billy Boy were far away from the treehouse.

Henry's face lit up as if I'd just invited him to see a private screening of Lord of the Rings. Billy Boy looked at me skeptically. So take your time. Don't come out here until you have everything ready.

I'll wait here. I stepped onto the uneven treehouse deck. The wooden door slowly creaked open. If Jagger and Luna were hiding here, then I realized why Jagger left the door opener at the factory. If Henry continued to use it to illuminate the treehouse, Jagger and Luna risked being discovered and scorched by the light.

When I opened the wooden door, I expected to find the coffins I had been searching for. Instead I saw a run-down 3-D version of Dexter's Laboratory. On a folding lab table sat dusty beakers, petri dishes, and a microscope.

The periodic table and a photosynthesis chart were taped to the slanting walls. The treehouse interior was divided by a black curtain.

I slowly pulled it back. What I found took my breath away. Hidden in the shadows of the sloping wooden wall was a black coffin adorned with gothic band stickers, encircled in dirt. And resting next to it was a pale pink coffin! I'd dreamed about a moment like this all my vampire-obsessed life, never to believe it would actually come to fruition. This was my chance to witness up close and personal a modern-day Nosferatu in his natural habitat. And with Luna, the moment was even more meaningful, because she, once human, was now a vampiress.

I was looking firsthand into a world that I'd always envisioned being part of. I crept toward the pink casket, hoping for a peek at what it was like inside. It was as fashionable as it was spooky. The once mortal Luna was now living in the Underworld next to her twin brother. I wondered if she regretted her decision.

I tiptoed over to Jagger's coffin. I gently touched the wooden top with the tip of my fingers. I held my breath and pressed my ear to the lid. I could hear the faint breathing of someone who was in a heavy stage of sleep. And then I heard him stir. I raced out of the room and promptly closed the curtain.

Billy Boy, with rolled-up maps under one arm, was fiddling with the microscope. Let's go. Even though I had daylight protecting me, I glanced back, expecting Luna and Jagger to somehow be following me.

We reached the bottom of the creaky ladder to find Henry carrying the telescope. My brother and his nerd-mate's eyes perked up. You shouldn't be in this huge house without your parents. And I'm sure Nina could use a vacation. Your parents won't mind? I raced to the Mansion and tore up the broken cement stairs to the front door and anxiously rapped the serpent knocker. Alexander opened the door. I was greeted by my handsome boyfriend, standing in a black-and-white bowling shirt and black jeans with hanging silver chains, wearing a smile that could melt any sixteen-year-old vampire-obsessed goth.

Before he even had a chance to say hello, I blurted out, "I've got major news. I've found the coffins! Alexander drove me to the edge of the Oakley Woods, and we hopped out of the car. We followed fresh tire marks leading out of the woods, which turned into muddy tracks heading up the street. If we move quickly, we can remove the coffins. Alexander and I watched for any signs that Jagger and Luna might still be inside.

There were no candles flickering, or movement from the white-curtained windows. This is how we'll get the caskets down. I can handle myself. Once again Alexander was protecting me. Didn't he know we could move the coffins quicker if we both helped? I searched around the tree and found no signs of Luna or Jagger. I tiptoed up the ladder and entered the treehouse. But I missed you," I said, giving him a quick hug. In the petri dishes? The darkened room was different from what I'd seen a few hours earlier—the coffin lids were open!

I peeked into Luna's casket. It held a neatly made pink satin comforter with a black lace border, a pink faux fur pillow, and a black Scare Bear plush. The gravestone etchings Alexander and I had seen at the linen factory lining the rustic elevator were now tacked up to the slanting treehouse walls.

The antique candelabra and pewter goblet Jagger had used at Dullsville's cemetery during his attempted covenant ceremony were resting on the floor. A black duffel bag and a Little Nancy Nightmare backpack were shoved in the corner. Next to them was an open box from the Coffin Club, loaded with blood-filled amulets from the mortal clubsters—the only way for the pair to survive without drawing attention or blood from Dullsville's mortals. Then I noticed a blood-red party-size cooler.

I knelt beside it and fingered the edge of the white Styrofoam lid. What was being chilled inside? Packets or bottles of blood? Transplanted organs?

A human head? I took a breath and began to lift the lid. I almost jumped out of my own pale skin. A plastic end table was turned into a goth makeup counter. I examined Luna's neatly arranged pink and black eye shadows, gray lipsticks, and mud-colored glosses. I opened a small bottle of Cotton Candy nail polish. Jagger, wearing a white "Bite Me, I'm Transylvanian" T-shirt and black army fatigues, was standing before me.

His white hair hung in his face. After all, haven't you been spending the last few days searching for me? I didn't want to return to Dullsville's cemetery with him again. I paused. I could barely breathe. I looked at the white-curtained window, planning to make my escape.

I saw Alexander bite you and transform you right in front of my eyes.

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I regretted the day I didn't get to you first. But only for a moment as he inched toward me. Sterling's not cut out for what you really desire, is he? That's why you are trying to find me. I stepped past him, but he grabbed my hand.

He lifted it. As if you were pursuing a path with one love, but then you chose another. Now I love Alexander," I said sharply. He held my hand tighter. Jagger didn't seem convinced. Being a princess of the night? If Jagger was here, where was his twin sister? I raced past him, out to the deck of the treehouse, and looked out to the yard.

Alexander was searching the poolside grounds. A few yards from the treehouse, I thought I saw some long white hair poking out from behind one of the trees. I turned around, expecting to find Jagger mischievously grinning.

But he was no longer standing behind me. Instead I saw Jagger and Luna darting from underneath the treehouse, through the backyard, toward my unsuspecting boyfriend. I was too far away to reach Alexander before they did. And what could I do against two real vampires, anyway? How could a mortal goth stop them? Then I remembered. With a towel! He looked confused but snatched a folded beach towel from a lounge chair, crouched down, and enveloped himself with it.

I pulled my hoodie over my head and drew the strings tightly shut. I grabbed the garage door opener from my pocket and pointed it at Henry's house.

I took a deep breath and pressed my finger on the silver button as hard as I could. The lights burst on, illuminating the entire backyard, including Jagger and Luna.

The two vampires stopped dead in their tracks. The sudden burst of bright light was like kryptonite. They shielded their pale faces with their skinny bleach white arms.

They each hissed and fled into the darkness. I flew down the ladder and raced to the pool deck. Breathless, I finally reached Alexander, still covered, on a lounge chair. I aimed the garage door opener at the house again, pressed the silver button, and the once-illuminated backyard turned black.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I could see Alexander, his hair tousled, a towel by his side. They won't wait much longer. After pressing the snooze bar repeatedly, I unplugged my Nightmare Before Christmas alarm clock and stashed it under my bed.

What I couldn't unplug was my mother's voice. I dragged myself into the kitchen to gulp down some of the leftover morning sludge that Dad called "coffee. Her father Happy Holidays? It certainly didn't seem that way. Melissa, a rich young socialite, was struggling to deal with the fact of her Grandfather's Alzheimer's.

She was fighting her family to keep Grandfather in the care that he so desperately needed. Larry, an amateur auctioneer, was about to lose his She narrates the worst of her dating experiences London offered and the lessons she learnt from them. She shares without concession, her disillusionment, her joys, and her own A family goes through the struggles of life as they try to see the other side of love. Lindy Gordon is living the enviable life of an entrepreneur in San Francisco.

Love Bites (Vampire Kisses, Book 7)

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