“I have something for you,” he said, digging into the backpack.
I imagined him presenting me with a small jewelry box—perhaps a ring—or a larger gift, such as a bouquet of dead black roses.
Instead he handed me a flat package, the size of an envelope, neatly wrapped in black lace.
I tore the fabric off the package in wild anticipation of its contents. It was a one-way bus ticket to Dullsville.
“Aren’t you excited?” he asked, beaming as bright as the stars above us.
“Sure…”
He seemed disappointed with my reaction. “I thought it was what you wanted. Jameson and I have already begun packing.”
“It is…But you’re still here. Aunt Libby. And the—”
“The what?”
“Uh…the…summer. Freedom.”
“We’ll spend summer at home. Together.”
“You’re right. It’s the best gift ever,” I said, giving him a kiss.
When I was finally delivered the news I’d been waiting to hear since Alexander left Dullsville, I wasn’t as pleased as I’d imagined. Alexander couldn’t return to Dullsville now, when the Dungeon was on the brink of upheaval. I’d just begun hanging out with Aunt Libby, and I longed to dance and gossip until dawn with Scarlet and Onyx. And I was desperate to know what was going to happen to Jagger and Phoenix. I wasn’t ready for it to end.
Alexander was set on leaving. There wasn’t any way for me to stall the departure. Or perhaps there might be one way…I’d have to play the Coffin Club card.
If I told Alexander about the Dungeon, he’d be forced to have me show him and delay our departure. I was assured of at least a few more days, or rather nights, of us inspecting the underground club. Maybe it was time I told him everything.
“I’ve heard that Devon was right,” I suddenly said. “There is a vampire club here!”
“It’s just a rumor. You believe gossip?” he challenged.
“What if it is true? Don’t you think we should stay and check it out?”
Alexander placed his hand on mine. “Our trip here is over. We both got what we came for. Valentine is out of Dullsville and safely back in Romania. And you and I are together.”
“But—”
“Let’s enjoy our last evening here,” he said. He made sure we did, too, by placing his pink lips on my black ones.
When Alexander playfully nibbled on my neck, it made me think of one more thing.
I pulled back.
“What’s wrong?”
I paused. The night, the view, and Alexander were all gorgeous. I was in the arms of a very real vampire—one whom I loved and who loved me back. I’d also spent several days surrounded by other vampires. I’d met new friends, like Onyx and Scarlet, and was given a glimpse of their world. It wasn’t ghastly or deadly after all. I wondered if several days were in fact enough for me when I could be living in it for eternity.
And if I were to be turned, what a romantic time and place to have it done. But really…was I ready?
“Nothing’s wrong,” I finally answered. “I was just wondering.”
“About what?”
“About me…becoming like you.”
He pulled back and appeared cross.
“I’m just saying. You’re here, I’m here, the moon is full.”
“Really. It’s that easy for you?” he pressed skeptically.
“I think you think I won’t be able to handle it.”
“You have a romantic view of my world. Probably like I do of yours.”
“But I know more about your world than you think.”
“I’m not your typical vampire….”
“You’re not typical in any way. You are one of a kind. It’s just that…I want you to consider me as part of your world.”
“I do already. From the moment I met you.”
Alexander was dreamy, his face framed against the sparkling moonlight.
He was right. I was so concerned with living in another world, I wasn’t appreciating the one we were in together.
I smiled and fell into his arms.
“When you turn me,” I began, “will we have a covenant ceremony? Will we invite friends? Or will you just hold me, on a perfect night like this?”
“Well. All I need to do is start here.” He took my fingers and kissed them, then worked his way up my hand and forearm. My flesh tingled as he continued to kiss up my arm and the nape of my neck. “Then lean in…”
Suddenly Alexander’s eyes turned red and he looked away. “It’s time to go,” he said.
“Already? But we just got here.”
“We’ve been here for hours. It’s getting late,” he said.
“I didn’t mean to—”
But Alexander had already slung his backpack over his shoulder and taken my hand. “I have a lot to do before I leave.”
“Can I help you pack?” I asked, standing on my tiptoes like a child.
“That won’t be necessary. Jameson is very organized.”
I wasn’t ready for us to separate and there was nothing I could say to change his mind. Before I knew it we were standing outside Aunt Libby’s apartment.
“So when I see you next,” Alexander began, “you’ll be outside the Mansion’s gates, just like the painting.”
“I will.”
Alexander kissed me long. “I’m glad you came to visit me.”
It felt like I needed a crowbar to pry me away. My heart began to sink as he let me go.
I held the bus ticket in my hand. I’d gotten everything I’d come for—to reunite with Alexander and to finally know he was returning to Dullsville.
“Thank you again for my present,” I said.
Alexander waited for me to safely enter my aunt’s apartment. Once inside, I attempted to replace the key ring in my purse. Something sparkled—a long, old-fashioned, golden key. It was the Dungeon skeleton key.
The whole time Alexander had been in Hipsterville, he had been painting a picture of me outside the Mansion. During our separation, he’d been thinking about me living in Dullsville as much as I’d been dreaming about him on my trip.
And now, as I held the skeleton key in my hand, I was thinking about one more place—an empty tomb overtaken by dancing vampires deep below Hipsterville’s new club.
Alexander was right. It was time to leave Hipsterville. But if, in fact, I’d be boarding a Dullsville-bound bus without promise of seeing or visiting a true vampire club again, I had to see the Dungeon one last time.
13
The Dungeon
Aunt Libby’s fifteen-year-old navy blue Schwinn was no sexy Harley Night Rod. The tires were low on air, the handlebar was missing a rubber handle cover, and the back wheel squeaked with every revolution.
I peddled through Hipsterville and coasted down Main Street, steering around discarded trash left over from the festival. I locked the Schwinn to a bicycle rack outside the library, a block south of the vampire club.
I was hoofing down the sidewalk when I heard a motorcycle whizzing through an alleyway. I followed the sound, which seemed to be coming from behind the buildings. I wandered off the beaten path to a lit alleyway outside the Coffin Club, where I spotted a hearse parked next to a Dumpster. The car was familiar—a vintage black Cadillac with a silver bat hood ornament, whitewall tires, skull and crossbones on the left rear panel, and a skeleton hanging on the rearview mirror. The license plate’s county sticker was from Hipsterville and the license plate read: I BITE. It was Jagger’s.
Past the oversized garbage can, I glimpsed a rider with a black helmet parking his bike in the alley. I crept over as silently and quickly as a daddy longlegs. When the rider took off his helmet, he spun around. The shadows blocked him, but I appeared in full view.