“None of us wants to say anything we’ll regret.” Anna glanced back at the coffee shop, where dozens of people were staring out the windows at us. “Let’s keep walking.”
We headed north in the general direction of home. I couldn’t help thinking of how close to the Shade we were. Cathy was probably thinking about that too.
“Cathy,” Anna said. “All three of us love you and care about you. Do you think you could at least listen to our calm and rational comments about this?”
“Mel’s not being calm or rational.”
Anna squeezed my hand even harder. I remained silent even though I was on the verge of an explosion. “She will be. You get that she cares and worries about you?”
Cathy nodded.
“We want you to consider this decision. It seems like you’re rushing things.”
“I agree,” Ty said. “I do think it’s romantic. Honestly, Cathy,” he added when she shot him an Et tu, Brute? look. “I think you two are great together. But it’s a big deal.”
“Very big,” Anna said. “And it seems like you haven’t considered how huge a decision this. It’s not like picking which college to go to. It’s not even like deciding to get married or having a baby. This is the biggest decision you’ll ever make. And the most dangerous.”
“I love him.”
Anna’s voice remained level. I didn’t know how she was doing it. “We know you do. Can you tell us what you discussed once you said yes? Did Francis make it clear that he would turn you legally? That you’d apply for a license?”
“Of course! I already said we’re doing it legally. Francis is even willing to wait until I turn eighteen.”
“Big of him,” I muttered, so low none of them heard.
Or at least, they all pretended not to hear. Anna continued with her quiet, reasonable line of questioning as I stood there watching them all and wanting to punch something.
“You discussed licenses?”
“Yes. I said I’d ask Mom for permission to change before my eighteenth birthday. Francis might be happy to wait, but I’ve decided. I’m going to have a new life. I don’t want to waste any more time on the one I’m leaving. I want to go ahead as soon as we get a license.”
Cathy’s voice was very earnest. As if I believed for a second that any of this was her idea.
“Your mom will never agree.”
Anna gave me a quelling glance. “You do know they give out very few licenses,” she said. “And that applying when you’re underage, even with parental permission, is not going to help your chances.”
“Francis told me. But if Mom says no, or if the council turns us down, I can always try again after I’m eighteen. I think it’s worth trying now. It can take a long time to get approval. I’d like to be the same age as he is, and once they see our application and how much in love we are—”
Anna nodded thoughtfully, as if Cathy was doing well in a debate. I couldn’t believe how cool she was being—she who’d been terrorized by a vampire, she who’d told me our whole city was a mistake. It was like she’d already given up on Cathy.
“Did you talk about the possibility of the process not working?”
Cathy nodded. “Francis says that the percentage of unsuccessful transformations is very low when it’s legal and properly supervised. He says the majority of deaths and zombies happen when it’s unauthorized and the vampire in question doesn’t know what they’re doing.”
If Anna hadn’t been clamping down on my hand, I would have expressed myself on the subject of what total crap that was. Sometimes it didn’t work. Everybody knew that.
“I have a friend I want you to meet, Cathy. A friend of my”—Anna hesitated—“of my dad’s, who knows a lot more about this than any of us. She’s seen lots of transformations. She works in zombie control. Would you talk to her?”
Cathy nodded. “Francis said I should make myself prepared. It’s a condition of getting a license.”
“I have to go,” I said. It was that or start screaming and punching Ty again. I couldn’t stand hearing Cathy say the words Francis says one more time. Because what Francis had said was “End your life.”
That’s what she was listening to.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
My Enemy’s Enemy Is My Date
I didn’t sleep that night. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat dinner. I couldn’t talk to anyone, not Mom or Dad or even Kristin, because what if I tried and they talked like Ty had, or like that vamposeur at Kafeen Krank? What if they said it was an honor, a privilege, and a blessing for Cathy to get all her blood sucked out and to never laugh again?
She’d never laugh again if she became a vampire. And she’d never laugh, or smile, or speak if the transition didn’t work.
If she died.
I didn’t know why Ty and Cathy weren’t thinking of that. I couldn’t think about anything else.
I had to fix this. I had to change her mind, but I was so far from understanding what she wanted that I had no idea how to build an argument. It was as if she were saying: “Apples are blue!”
No, they’re not. Sky is blue. Apples are red. (Or green, but not blue!)
Instead she was saying: “Risking my life to become a vampire is a cool idea!”
No, it’s not, and what kind of person would agree with you that it was?
Apparently, Ty did. And lots of random people in coffee shops.
Cathy’s mom would never, ever give her permission. No parent could do such a thing, could sign off on something that might kill her kid. Cathy would be eighteen in eight months. I had eight months to change her mind.
It didn’t seem like a lot of time.
Failing wasn’t an option. I had to convince Cathy not to throw her life away. I had to find some way. And I had to find some allies.
The next day at school there was that feeling you get after a fight: a sort of tentative hush in the air in the aftermath of a lot of noise, like the world feels after a thunderstorm.
Ty and Anna both said an awkward “hey” out of the corners of their mouths when they saw me. I looked at the floor and muttered “hey” back.
When Cathy approached me, her shoes squeaking on the green linoleum, I couldn’t even manage a “hey.” I was just glad to see that she wasn’t accompanied by Francis. I wasn’t ready to look at the guy who wanted to murder my best friend.
“Hi,” Cathy said, in a low voice.
“Hmm,” I said, and the bell rang.
I escaped to class without another word. I’m not proud.
Of course I was merely putting off the inevitable, which on this occasion was lunch and the lunchroom and Cathy sidling over to me.
“Could we try that one again?” she asked. “Hi. And I’m sorry.”
Sorry she’d made such an insane decision, and ready to take it back? Sorry that Francis had drugged her food last night and persuaded her to agree to the craziness? Sorry I’d had to see her like that, and could I repeat all of last night’s crazy talk, because she remembered nothing?
“Sorry?” I repeated.
“It’s not exactly a secret you’re not Francis’s biggest fan,” Cathy said. “I know how you feel about vampires, too. And how Anna feels.”
“That’s not fair. I—”
Cathy plunged ahead before I could finish. “I can’t believe I told you like that. I should have known you’d be shocked. I was just so happy, and I guess it rendered me entirely incapable of thought.”
“When will you be capable of thought again?” I asked.
Cathy chose to ignore this perfectly reasonable question. “I know this is an important decision, and I know it came as a shock to you. I know you’re scared for me. I know this seems sudden. I never dreamed this would happen to me, but as soon as Francis said it … it was a revelation. I want it more than anything. You’re my best friend in the entire world, so I want you to understand.”
I clenched my fists instead of grabbing Cathy and shaking her the way I wanted to.
�
��You’re my best friend too,” I said. “That’s why I can’t let you commit suicide.”
“That’s not what becoming a vampire is!” Cathy said. “Look, Mel. Can you admit that you might be a tiny bit biased against vampires? Don’t you feel that you might have judged them a little quickly? What if I asked you to learn more about them?”
“We could read a book about them together if you wanted,” I said, with visions of highlighting all the bits that said POTENTIALLY FATAL.
Cathy smiled. “You know how I love books. But I was thinking about a more hands-on experience.”
“You want me to put my hands on Francis?” I made a face. “Isn’t that kind of a best friend no-no, Cath?”
“No, not Francis,” Cathy said patiently. “I was thinking we could go on a double date.”
This was such a new side of Cathy. A side full of total craziness.
“Errr,” I said. “I don’t want to go on a date with a vampire!”
It’s not about being prejudiced. Loads of girls won’t date a guy shorter than they are. Or won’t date a guy with red hair.
I won’t date a guy with no pulse.
Anyway, guys who don’t laugh at my jokes are out. So guys who can’t laugh at my jokes might as well be in outer space.
“You don’t have to,” said Cathy. “Not a vampire.” She hesitated. “I thought you and Francis’s ward seemed to get on rather well.”
“Francis’s what now? You mean Kit?” I almost yelped.
Cathy didn’t even know Kit’s real name or how he’d gotten it. She didn’t know that if things went the way she wanted them to, people would leave unwanted babies on her doorstep so she could eat them.
“You laughed at each other’s jokes,” Cathy said delicately.
“He was funny,” I admitted grudgingly. “He was just …”
“Weird,” I almost said, which Kit definitely was. He was part of the strange world of the Shade. The world that Cathy wanted in on. He was someone I didn’t understand and I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
He had been funny, though, and there were a few things we agreed on.
He’d said something about not wanting to encourage this madness to Camille.
He’d made fun of Francis’s stupid ballad. He’d mentioned Cathy’s age.
He’d made it pretty clear that he wouldn’t want the immortal love tale of Francis and Cathy going on in his house.
I needed an ally.
“Hot,” I said. “He was hot! Definitely not weird.”
“Oh,” said Cathy, looking startled but pleased.
“And,” I continued—it was evil, but I could not resist—“I was thinking of going to the beach this Saturday, anyway. It’s been so warm and it won’t be for much longer.”
“Oh,” said Cathy.
She looked a lot less pleased.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Double Date of the Damned
The weather report had said it was going to be sunny, and for once the meteorologists had not lied. It was bright and the air was crisp: a nice day to be at the beach.
White Sands was by far the more popular beach, and this was the perfect time of year to visit: fall, when it was not so crowded. But for some reason Kit had insisted on Honeycomb Beach.
That was not helping my mood. Anna’s parents had met on Honeycomb Beach, and so she’d always wanted to go here before this summer: I think she was hoping to meet a guy.
The beach didn’t just suck because of Anna. It wasn’t as pretty as White Sands, and the currents weren’t as good for swimming, though at this time of year it wasn’t a lot of fun going in the water.
There was one old man bravely swimming. He looked like an asphyxiating prune in a Speedo. The few people on the beach weren’t looking at him. I doubted if they would look at him if he drowned.
Everyone on the beach was looking at us.
Cathy had brought a picnic blanket and a bottle of lemonade she’d made herself. Francis had brought his suit. He sat stiffly on the picnic blanket, the sun shining brightly on his helmet.
You might think I’d suggested the idea of a beach date with a vampire in the spirit of terrible, unholy mockery.
But no: That was just a bonus.
I wanted Cathy to see what she would be missing out on: a day in the sun, blue ocean, and silver sand. I wasn’t letting the fact that it was fall get in the way. I may have also been hoping that a date with a sulky undead astronaut outside during the day would take some of the shine off her romance. But Cathy’s attention was fixed with dreamy happiness on Francis’s helmet, so I had obviously—once again—underestimated the strength of her delusions.
Speaking of romance, of course, there was my own date.
Kit wasn’t really my date. I didn’t want to date him, and I highly doubted he wanted to date me. I knew why he was here. His mom wanted him to spend time with humans. Possibly because she thought bringing up Kit was like bringing up a baby lion or something: Eventually, it had to be reintroduced to the wild and its own kind. You couldn’t keep it forever. You didn’t want to.
They’d called him Kitten. They didn’t think of him as a person.
But Cathy had called it a date, which was making me feel a little awkward. I found myself glancing at him.
“Uncle Francis,” Kit said over Francis’s muffled protest. He leaned forward and rapped on the side of Francis’s helmet. “Uncle Francis.”
“What, Christopher?” Francis demanded, his helmet swinging away from his contemplation of Cathy.
“Knock knock.”
Francis turned back to Cathy. Kit grinned. He was able to look pleased with himself without also looking smug. It was kind of adorable. I’d steal a look and catch the grin or the cheekbones or the brown burst of curls.
Okay, so I hadn’t been lying to Cathy. He was hot.
This mainly annoyed me. I was on a mission to save my best friend; I had no time for some weird guy to be hot.
My thoughts came to a sudden halt when a volleyball hit me in the back of the head.
I twisted on the picnic blanket, grabbed the ball, and stood up, coming face-to-face with the guy who had presumably thrown it. He saw my look and edged back toward the volleyball net. It was possible he could intuit from my eyes that I was not in the best of moods.
And I was armed.
“Heh, heh,” he said, putting his arms up defensively. “Do you wanna play?”
I threw the ball at him pretty hard; he caught it more with his stomach than with his hands, and made a sort of grunting sound.
I had to do something that would help me work off this prickly, furious feeling. I had no chance of convincing Cathy of anything unless I could be calm, and calmly refrain from doing things like punching her boyfriend in the helmet. Also I needed a chance to discuss this whole situation with Kit.
“Yeah, I wanna play,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at Kit. “Coming?”
Kit blinked, then grinned again. “Sure.”
“How about you, Francis?” I inquired, so Cathy could see I was including him.
Kit was getting up as I spoke, and our eyes met in a moment of perfect accord, sharing a mutual shining vision of Francis getting a volleyball to the helmet.
“I thank you, no,” Francis responded. “But Catherine, if you would like to play, please do. I would not want to mar your enjoyment of the day for an instant.”
“I’m very well content where I am,” Cathy said shyly.
Francis took her hand in his clumsy glove and lifted it to within an inch of the dark visor of his helmet. Kit, with his back to them, did a short silent impression of someone getting sick. It was my turn to grin.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Volleyball and Sex
I was sort of riled up, and anyone in the fencing club will tell you I’m pretty competitive at the best of times. The sun was beating down on my head and my bare arms, I was kicking up clouds of sand every time I spiked the ball, and we were killing the team on the other side of the net.
I’d only had to yell, “Get back, I’ll hit everything that comes close to the net!” once at Kit, which was pretty awesome. A lot of guys pull the “I’ve got that, little lady” routine. Though I’d taught Ty better, after a game of mixed doubles and a racket to the head.
I jumped up to slam the ball into the sand on the other side of the net. The guy who’d initially thrown the ball at me didn’t even try to lob it back. He just gave a sort of damp squeak of sadness and defeat.
I stood, hands on hips, and laughed. “You guys want a break?”
“Oh, yes, please yes,” yelled a girl in a green bikini, and they began to trail toward their collection of folding chairs.
Covered in sweat and sand and feeling pretty great, I turned to Kit and grinned. “You’re good at taking orders.”
“You’re not bad at giving them,” said Kit easily, and gave me an extremely sandy high five. He grinned again, looking at his hand. “My first high five. I’m savoring the moment. Also my first volleyball game.”
“Beach volleyball.”
“I stand corrected. First beach volleyball game. A day of excellent firsts.”
I couldn’t help smiling back at him. Then I looked across the stretch of sand and saw Cathy’s blue picnic blanket, deserted, anchored only by a lemonade bottle. The edges of the blanket were flipping back and forth in the breeze, in a tiny distress call.
“Where are they?” I demanded.
My eyes tracked along the curve of the bay, back to the cliffs. None of the people walking by the sea were an astronaut vampire and his lady fair.
I headed for the cliff.
We followed the rough rock wall, the cliff walls curved by the wind into almost the same shape as the bay. I stumbled over loose rocks in the shadow of the cliffs and for a moment thought the opening of the cave was another shadow. Only it wasn’t: the darkness had a blue tinge that suggested coolness and depth rather than the flat black of a shadow. I walked forward into the mouth of the cave and saw them.
Francis had taken his helmet off, his fair hair glowing in the dim light. His head was bent to Cathy’s. They were a tableau in the shadows, storybook lovers with their mouths about to meet.
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