This game wasn't over. I wasn't ready to fold. I had no choice. I had to show my cards.
The ice maker roared thunderously as my mom filled another cup with ice. I put my hand on the granite countertop and leaned in to my mother. "Valentine thinks he is a vampire."
"What?" she asked, placing the cup on the countertop and beginning to fill another.
"Valentine thinks he's a vampire," I said louder.
"I can't hear you."
I placed my hand over the cup. A few cubes bounced off my knuckles and flew to the floor.
"Valentine has to leave. He thinks he's a vampire," I repeated.
My mom paused. Then she laughed, picked up the fallen cubes, and threw them into the sink.
"Then he should be friends with you, not Billy," she remarked playfully.
"I'm serious."
"Serious?" she asked. "Am I talking to the same person I raised, who at five years old wore a black cape around the house because you were imitating Count Dracula? Who at nine insisted on drinking only raspberry Kool-Aid because you thought it resembled blood? And who, just a few days ago, bought a prom dress that resembles a vampire's bridal outfit?"
My mouth dropped open. Touché. My mother's straight flush beat my full house.
"I think it's wonderful that Billy Boy is accepting someone who is different from himself," she continued. "Someone who reminds him of his sister. I'd think you would be flattered."
The doorbell rang.
My mom grabbed a twenty lying on the kitchen counter, and I followed her to the front door. "The pizzas are here!" she called upstairs.
Billy Boy raced down the stairs, Valentine slowly trailing after him like a ghostly shadow.
Valentine stood on the stairs, his black painted fingernails tapping against the wooden banister. He was intently fixated on me, grinning like a gothic Dennis the Menace. I glared back at the four-foot ten-inch vampire as Billy grabbed the pizzas and my mother paid the delivery woman.
Valentine deliberately brushed by me, sending an icy chill through my body as the two boys flew into the kitchen.
I grabbed a soda from the table and sat down next to my brother.
Billy Boy shot me an odd look. "What are you doing here? Don't you have a hot date?"
"If I did, I wouldn't tell you."
The boys each grabbed a slice of pizza, scarfing it down before it had time to hit their paper plates.
I rose and opened the refrigerator door. "Want some garlic with that?" I asked Valentine, holding up a clove.
It was as if all the blood had drained from Valentine's already pale face. He laid the crust on his plate and sat back in his chair. "Uh…no, thank you. I'm deathly allergic to garlic."
"Really? So is Raven's boyfriend," my mother said. "Raven, put that back!"
Reluctantly I returned the clove to the crisper and washed my hands in the kitchen sink.
Valentine glared at me as his morosely ashen complexion turned back to ghostly white.
"Here, take another slice," my mom said, kindly handing Valentine more pizza. He returned to wolfing down his dinner like he hadn't eaten in centuries.
Valentine wiped his tomato-sauce-stained mouth with a napkin and guzzled a soda just like any mortal his age. It was odd to see a boy so young have the potential to be so dangerous. My eyes were glued to him, making sure all he bit into was the pizza.
"Are you visiting or did you move here?" my mom asked.
"Visiting. But I really like this town," he said, looking straight at me.
"Who are you visiting?"
"Uh…my aunt, but you wouldn't know her."
"In this town? We know everyone."
"Yes, who is she?" I questioned. "I'd love to meet her."
Valentine paused.
"Let us eat," Billy Boy said. "We're hungry."
"You're right, go ahead," my mother said in an apologetic voice.
The boys continued to shovel in their pizza while I observed their every bite. For once in my life, I was the one gawking.
"You are creeping me out," my brother finally said, scooting away from me.
"Raven, let's go in the other room," my mother instructed.
"But—"
She grabbed our plates of half-eaten pizza and we sat in the dining room. All the while I spied on Valentine, keeping my peripheral vision set on the pizza-partying vampire.
I hated that Billy Boy no longer wanted the Madison women hovering around him. He should have listened to me about Valentine. He was beginning to remind me of someone who didn't take orders, someone I knew very well—me.
Later that evening, while Mom and Dad were downstairs watching TV, I made believe I was folding towels in the hall closet while Valentine brushed his teeth.
The door finally opened and Valentine emerged. He was smiling, his green eyes sparkling, seemingly relaxed in his new environment, until he spotted me in the hallway. Then he glared up at me.
"Did you make sure to floss between your fangs?" I whispered.
"Go ahead, tell your parents," he challenged. "I'll tell them about Alexander," he whispered back, then disappeared into my brother's room.
I stepped into the bathroom. Mom's makeup mirror was facing the wall, and a lavender bath towel was haphazardly placed over the sink mirror.
I could hear my mother whistling as she ascended the stairs.
I quickly retrieved the towel and threw it into the wicker hamper.
"Lights out, boys," my mom ordered, holding a handful of catalogs.
"No, leave the lights on!" I shouted, running into my brother's room. I was hoping an illuminated bedroom would keep Valentine at a safe distance from my brother.
The two boys looked at me strangely.
"The other night, Billy Boy thought he saw a bat," I explained. "I want him to get a good night's rest."
My brother's nerdy white face turned bloodred. I almost felt sorry I'd embarrassed him in front of his friend.
"Mom, get her out!" he yelled.
My mom shooed me out of the room with her catalog collection and closed the door behind her.
I paced in my room, wondering what Valentine was going to do all night. He obviously wasn't going to sleep. I feared at any moment he might sink his fangs into my brother.
I had no choice. Valentine couldn't sleep here, especially when I knew he wouldn't be sleeping. I didn't have much time; Billy Boy would soon be defenseless. When my brother was a baby, he wailed throughout the night. Now that he was older, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
I raced to my dresser drawer and stuck my container of garlic in the waistband of my skirt.
I crept over to Billy Boy's room. I took a deep breath and cracked his door open.
I wasn't prepared for what I saw. Valentine, his eyes closed as if in a trance, was standing over my sleeping brother, his palm resting on my brother's neck!
"What are you doing?" I said sharply.
Valentine, startled, quickly pulled his hand away.
I gasped. "It was you in the cave," I managed to say.
Valentine remained in place, his fists now clenched.
"I know what you're thinking…," he said in a challenging voice. "I know all about you."
I was confused. "Know what about me? From Jagger and Luna? You can't trust what they say…"
He inched forward. "You are afraid."
"Of you?"
He snickered. "Of Alexander."
I folded my arms skeptically. "I love Alexander."
Then Valentine turned deadly serious. "You are afraid of becoming a vampire," he said.
I froze.
"Jagger and Luna didn't have to tell me," he continued. "I learned that from you."
"I don't know what you mean."
Valentine didn't seem to be threatened by my sleeping brother.
"In the cave," he continued. "Alexander wasn't going to bite you. But you thought he was—and you freaked out."
"I don't know what you are talking about."