“It’s different when you’re looking in from the outside. People like melodrama and … romance.”
“Melodrama and romance? Is that why people care about what’s going on in my world?”
“That’s part of it. Personally, your story line of avenging your family is the one I find most interesting, not James and Hannah’s relationship.”
He scowled. “What he possibly sees in her, I’ll never know.”
“Hey, I’d like to show you something. Come with me.” I went to the den and pressed the button to boot up the computer, then gestured for him to sit down. I pulled up a chair for myself.
He gazed at the computer in fascination. “Is this similar to the one in the living room? With live news reports?”
“No, that’s a TV. A computer is like …” How the heck did I explain a computer? “It’s a machine that holds a lot of information. Almost anything you’d find in a library or newspaper is on here. And it’s also like a typewriter, except you can see the words on the screen instead of on paper.”
“Extraordinary,” he muttered, glancing behind the monitor, as if looking for a projector of some kind.
I typed my log-in and my screen came up. The desktop background was a picture of the cover of The Mists of Otherworld.
He looked at me. “Do all of these computer machines have this picture on them?”
“No, I put it there myself. You can put whatever picture you want on your computer.”
“I see.”
I reached past him to open a web browser, and my arm accidentally brushed his. Just that bit of contact sent a warm ripple through me. I heard my heart beating in my ears, probably because I was holding my breath.
My home page was Otherworlders, one of the top fan communities. I liked it not only because it had all the latest news about the series, but because it had a fan fiction forum.
Alexander was fascinated. “So you’re saying that when someone else puts on a computer, this is not what appears on their screen.”
“Right. When my sister opens it, she’s at the home page of Metal Mouth, her favorite band. Now, look at this.” I logged on to the main Otherworlder forum.
He looked closely at the screen, glancing from side to side. “What is all this?”
“It’s people talking about the books.” I used the mouse to click on the latest post. “Someone here wanted to talk about the ending of The Mists, and almost four hundred people responded in the last few hours.”
“Remarkable. Wait a minute — who is Mrs. Alexander Banks eight thousand and twenty-one?”
Uh-oh. He’d spotted the small icon at the top with my log-in name. I felt my face heat up. “It’s just, uh, a name. Everyone has to log in under a made-up name.”
He turned to me, narrowing his eyes. “Is this your made-up name?”
I wished he’d stop looking at me. I knew I was bright red. “Yes, but it’s just a joke. I mean, there are thousands of other Mrs. Alexander Bankses. That’s why I’m number eight thousand and twenty-one.”
“Hmm.” He seemed puzzled by the whole thing. “I am glad, at least, to see that some readers support my cause. Wait a minute.” He pressed his finger against the screen. “Is that person claiming to be Vigo’s lover?”
He’d spotted a username called VigosVampLover.
“It’s just a joke, I told you. She doesn’t know Vigo is real.”
“Joke or not, it isn’t funny.”
“Let me show you something else,” I suggested. “It’s called e-mail. Electronic mail. You can send a letter through the computer.”
After I showed him how to send an e-mail, I showed him how to check the weather, the local news, the times of sunrise and sunset. With every new page, his face lit up like a kid on Christmas. He asked question after question, until finally he pushed back from the computer.
“I would love to bring this knowledge back to my world. When the vampires came, almost a hundred years ago, many of our brightest minds fled. Anyone with money fled. It is no wonder we are stuck in the past.” He looked saddened. Then he picked up The Mists, which he’d brought with him to the computer. “I can’t believe how many people have read these books.” He flipped to the author photo on the inside back cover, a glamorous shot of Elizabeth Howard. “It is essential that I speak to the author. Perhaps I could speak to her on the telephone, or we could arrange to meet.”
Contacting the author — of course! It made sense; she might be the only person able to explain how it was possible that Alexander and Vigo existed, and had come to our world. But how would we do it? “It’s not easy to get in touch with someone as famous as her,” I told him. “I’m sure her address and phone number would be unlisted.”
“We must find a way. She may have some insight into finding Vigo. Perhaps she knows where he is right now. And I need to understand how she could possibly know so many details of my life — including my thoughts.”
“Maybe,” I said, my mind racing, “Elizabeth Howard goes through the same portal that you and Vigo came through, and that’s why she knows Otherworld so well. But that doesn’t explain how she’d know her characters’ thoughts.”
“However she does it, it’s totally objectionable. And I intend to tell her so after she has helped me locate Vigo.”
“I’ll check her tour dates. I know she isn’t coming to Chicago until November, but she might be someplace else we can get to.” I turned back to the computer. It took me less than a minute to find the information. “She’ll be signing in New York City next weekend. That’s a long way, but it’s manageable. We could take a bus.”
Alexander nodded. “New York City it is. I am most eager to make Elizabeth Howard’s acquaintance.”
“Can we talk?” Mom poked her head into my bedroom that night, knocking a tune on the door.
“Sure.” I had been trying to do homework for tomorrow, but wasn’t getting anywhere.
Mom came in and sat on my bed. “It’s about Alexander.”
I could tell she was searching for words, so I jumped in. “I know you said a couple of days, but I was hoping he could stay a bit longer. Please, Mom. He’s not any trouble, is he?”
She sighed. “Not to me. But Chrissy isn’t comfortable having a boy around.”
“I don’t buy it, Mom. She hasn’t even given him a chance.” I wasn’t comfortable with Madison around, but I put up with her.
“I know how Chrissy can be,” she said in a whisper. “But that isn’t the issue. I’m concerned that Alexander needs to figure his life out right now, and we’re not helping him by letting him stay here. He sleeps all day and goes out all night. Then he gets up, eats, and is off again.”
“I told you, that’s because he works nights and is saving up money. It’s not like he’s out partying.”
Mom nodded, but still looked dubious.
“He’s extremely hardworking.” That part, at least, was true. “He’ll pay you back anything you spend on groceries.”
She shook her head. “I’m not concerned about that. I’m more concerned about you — that he’s taking advantage of your kindness.”
I couldn’t blame her for coming to that conclusion. “He’s not manipulating us, Mom. He’s just in a rough spot right now. I wish you could understand.”
“Would it help if I talked to his aunt for him? Maybe I could help them patch things up?”
“It’s too late for that. Could he stay just a few more days? I’ll help him look for a room to rent.”
“Does he have money to pay for a room?”
“He has some.” I had about five hundred and fifty dollars, I thought, remembering the bank statement from the ATM the other day. But it wouldn’t stretch very far if it had to cover rent and food.
She patted my hand. “I’ll take a look at the bulletin board at the hospital to see if there are any rooms for rent.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
When she left, I curled my fists in frustration. Not only did Alexander have to worry about hunting Vi
go, he’d soon be homeless if I didn’t find him somewhere to stay.
If Mom only knew what Alexander had done for me Friday night, she’d probably let him move in forever. But I couldn’t tell Mom — she’d be horrified if she knew I’d been attacked, even if she didn’t know it was by a vampire. And I couldn’t see any reason to put her through that.
I got up from the bed and went to look out the window. The sun had set, and darkness blanketed the streets except for the glow of streetlights. Alexander was out there looking for Vigo. I wished I could do something, anything, to help him. But here, like in Otherworld, he chose to hunt alone.
CHAPTER
SIX
MONDAY MORNING PASSED BY in a blur of classes and endless talk about the vampire killer. Everyone was freaked out that the two boys had been killed, but I kept silent, not wanting to reveal to anyone what I knew. I hadn’t seen Alexander in the apartment that morning, but I had a feeling he would have let me know somehow if he had caught Vigo.
At lunchtime, I met up with Luisa and Katie in the cafeteria line. On today’s menu: noodles in a lumpy, ketchuplike sauce. Although lunch only cost two bucks, I was beginning to think we were being overcharged.
We snagged our usual spot at one end of a long folding table. Like everyone else at school, all Katie and Luisa wanted to talk about was the vampire killings. I was quiet, wrestling over whether or not I should tell my best friends about Alexander. On the one hand, I felt like I had to — I confided in the girls about everything, and this was huge, life altering. On the other hand, I knew Alexander wanted to fly under the radar as much as possible. If I told anyone the truth about him, there was a chance word would spread and Alexander’s presence here would get out.
“Usually there’s safety in numbers,” Luisa said as she twirled the noodles around her fork. “Not anymore. This guy somehow managed to attack two people at once.”
Katie looked doubtful. “It can’t be just one person. Nobody’s that strong.”
No human, anyway. I flashed back to Friday night, felt the panic rise inside me, and squelched it.
“We should all stay inside after dark until this guy is caught,” I cautioned them.
Katie lifted her chin. “I’m not letting this wannabe vampire punk change how I live my life. Then he wins.”
“It’s not admitting defeat if people lay low for a while,” I argued. “It’s being smart. If we go out at night, we should all take cabs.”
“I can’t afford to do that for more than a week,” Katie said. Her family’s money situation was similar to mine. They got by on her mom’s salary as a bank cashier, but there wasn’t a lot left over. Still, Katie had a sweet summer job as a camp counselor and usually came home with at least two grand in the bank.
“Amy?”
I turned to see Mrs. Benedetti, the office administrator, standing behind me. She looked peeved. “There’s a young man in the office asking to see you. He says his name is Alexander and that he’s your fiancé. He’s extremely insistent.”
Alexander was here? And what was he thinking, calling himself my fiancé?
Luisa gasped. “Fiancé?”
“Amy — what the —” Katie stammered.
Mrs. Benedetti cut them off before they could ask any coherent questions. “Well?” she said to me. “Do you know who this person is, or should we call the police?”
“I know him.” I shot Katie and Luisa an I’ll explain later look, then stood up and left the cafeteria.
I followed Mrs. Benedetti down the hall toward the office. Alexander’s voice reached me before I got there.
“… and I assure you, madam, that she will be quite happy to see me,” he said sharply.
“Yes, but since she’s under eighteen and you’re not her parent, we can’t let you speak to her without her permission,” replied Mrs. Pearsen, the office administrative assistant.
In the doorway, I said, “Hi, um, honey.”
Alexander turned to me, a satisfied look on his face, then glanced back at Mrs. Pearsen. “As you can see, my fiancée is delighted I am here.”
Mrs. Pearsen gave me a stern look, as if to say that the fiancée charade was not amusing. But mostly, she seemed relieved to have him off her back. “You need to wear this as long as you’re in the building. School policy.” She handed him a visitor’s pass.
He took it and we left the office together. Since everyone was either in the lunchroom or in class, the halls were deserted.
“Try to be more polite next time, Alexander,” I whispered. “I thought you didn’t want to attract attention.” I noticed he was wearing one of the new T-shirts and the khakis we had bought together. At least he blended in. He carried a plastic grocery bag that appeared to contain a book.
“I was extremely polite.”
“Well, in this world, you should try to tone it down. We don’t use aggression to get what we want.” I paused, realizing that wasn’t true for a lot of people. But still, it was true for me, and he was dragging me into this. “You shouldn’t have told them you were my fiancé.”
“I thought if I were your fiancé, they would let me see you immediately.”
“It just made you sound weird. Nobody my age gets married.”
“But you’re, what, sixteen? Seventeen?”
“Seventeen in January. Way too young to get married. Or even engaged.”
And if I should be married at sixteen … why aren’t you married already? I thought. Then I remembered that Alexander had devoted his life to hunting vampires. That didn’t leave a lot of time for romance.
“Obviously I have much to learn about your world,” Alexander replied. “Forgive my intrusion — I tried to reach you by telephone, but yours appeared to be malfunctioning. I kept hearing your voice telling me to leave a message, with strange music in the background.”
“That’s my voice mail. I’m not allowed to have my phone turned on at school. If they catch us on the phone, they’ll take it away. Next time borrow someone’s cell phone and send me a text message.”
“What is a text message?”
“I’ll show you another time. Let’s see if we can find a private study room in the library. I know the librarian, so please be nice to her. Just follow my lead, okay?”
Ms. P. was perched on a stool behind the checkout desk. When she saw me, her eyes brightened. When she saw Alexander, she couldn’t hide her surprise.
Was it so surprising that I’d be with a hot guy? Yes, I suppose it was. And Alexander was the kind of hot that simply didn’t exist in this dimension.
“Hey, Ms. P. This is my friend Alexander.”
“Enchanted, madam.” Alexander gave a little bow.
Ms. P. seemed startled, but charmed, too. “Nice to meet you, Alexander.”
“Is there a study room free where we can hang out for a while?” I asked.
Ms. P. frowned slightly, and I hoped she didn’t think we wanted a private place to make out. Not that that would be a bad thing.
“The room at the end is free,” she said.
We headed to the study room at the end of the hall. Each room had several computers; sometimes classes came here to do research or to get a library lesson. At lunchtime, students could book these rooms to work on projects or have club meetings.
I closed the door behind us, glad that we had privacy to talk. One of the walls was a window, so we could be seen by anyone who came to this end of the hall, but we couldn’t be heard. We sat down across from each other at the center table.
There were shadows under his eyes. I could tell he hadn’t slept yet.
“You should go to bed, Alexander.”
“I will, do not worry. I came to tell you that I have finished reading The Mists of Otherworld and have made a stunning discovery.”
“What is it?”
He leaned closer to me. “In the first book, Elizabeth Howard writes only one short section from Vigo’s perspective, but in The Mists of Otherworld, she writes several. And in doing so, she has revea
led something that could help me catch him.” He took the hardcover from the bag and opened it to page 374. I skimmed the page, then looked up at him, eyes wide.
“Vigo’s equation of probabilities. You didn’t know about it?” I asked, surprised.
“No. I don’t think anyone in my world knows about it. All of these years I wondered what his strategy was for eluding me. I knew that he had received an education in mathematics when he was mortal, but I never realized he could use a mathematical formula to evade capture. Now that I know his theory, it may give me the upper hand.”
I could’ve kicked myself. It hadn’t occurred to me that there might be information in the books that Alexander didn’t know. I wondered, for the thousandth time, how it was possible that Elizabeth Howard knew the thoughts of the people in Otherworld.
“That’s amazing, but what if Vigo knows about the books already?” I asked. “He’s been here as long as you have, and might have seen an ad in a bookstore window. If he knows his formula is in the book, he might not use it again. Or he might change it.”
Alexander nodded. “That is a distinct possibility. But knowing that he uses any formula at all helps me to understand how he thinks, and that may be the key. Now, if Vigo knows about the books, we have a more pressing problem on our hands: He knows about Elizabeth Howard.”
My gut tightened. “You think he’ll go after her?”
“He might. If Vigo is furious enough, there is no telling what he might do.”
“But why would he be furious with her? Vigo likes attention. Maybe he’ll love the idea of being famous in two worlds.”
“Howard’s portrayal would infuriate him for other reasons,” he said. “She has not only revealed his probabilities equation, she has aired all of his insecurities. She has described in detail, for instance, how little he trusts Leander, the second-in-command of his coven. And she revealed something that would make him angriest of all.” He smiled. “She revealed that he fears me.” He flipped to page 421.
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