I snarled and turned to study the much more intriguing hottie she’d left behind. Unlike most of the minions I’d seen, this one wasn’t bulgy at all, or not so you’d notice. Bobby’s blushing must have been infectious, ’cause as I met the man’s rare green eyes—I mean, like, gemstone green—I felt a little flush. And that hair … bad-boy long, black as midnight, falling just slightly in his face, making me want to brush it back. I felt like I was falling into a dream of firelight and hot toddies, whatever they were, bearskin rugs, and—
I blinked, snapping myself out of the bizarre little PG-13 film playing in my head. I mean, bearskin rugs were so yesterday. Not to mention, I … I froze as pretty boy pulled out a desk drawer, probably to put back the document he’d been holding, and a deep blue glow emerged, bathing his face in light.
I must have made a sound, or maybe it was the fixed look on my face, but the darling diva turned and saw the scene for herself. Her eyes widened and for a sec her polish and control fell away for something like wonder. Then she shut it down.
“Connor,” she barked. “Bring it here.”
“But it shouldn’t be poss—”
“Connor!”
The look he shot her was venomous, but he palmed whatever was in the drawer, light leaking out from between his fingers, and walked toward us. I probably should have been scared, but I’d seen Connor both stare into it and lift it with his bare hands, so I figured it wasn’t going to incinerate us on contact. And besides, I was way too curious for caution. Just forty-eight hours ago I’d had no idea that vamps and unidentified glowing objects even existed. I felt a little like Alice in Wonderland—with pointy teeth and bloodlust. Okay, so maybe as Quentin Tarantino would do Alice …
The blazing gemstone, and I could now see that’s what it was, moved toward us, even more riveting than the hottie’s eyes. In fact, it shone the same impossible color as Bobby’s baby blues, and it flared as it neared him, as if like called to like.
“I knew it,” Mellisande gasped, but if that was true, why did she seem so surprised? “Try the girl,” she added, turning her narrowed eyes on me.
Connor held the glow out toward me, putting himself between me and Bobby as a buffer. The gemstone flared once, and then faded almost to nothing. I was disappointed without even knowing why.
“Dim—what a surprise,” Mellisande said nastily. “Remove the girl.”
“You won’t hurt her!” Bobby cried out, sounding credibly commanding. The gemstone flared again, nearly blinding me, but at the same time it was pretty, like the sun. It would make a fabulous conversation piece in the right setting.
Mellisande’s and Connor’s eyes met and something passed between them. Then Mellisande wet her lips seductively and turned to Bobby, holding her hand up to pause the scene just as Chickzilla started to lead me away.
“She means something to you, this cheap … thing?”
Bobby broke from her spell long enough to look at me. “Yes.” The heart I wasn’t using anyway kinda melted.
Mellisande’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “Really? Well, that’s … interesting. You and I have unfinished business. Perhaps I will hold her as collateral for your good behavior.” She flicked her hand, as if hitting restart, and Chickzilla led me away, painfully gripping my elbow.
One of the other thugs flanked me, leaving two behind with Bobby and his vampire vixen. If steam could really come out of ears, my whistle would be blowing.
7
A bazillion hours passed and Bobby didn’t even come visit me in my dungeon. Not that it was a dungeon exactly. I mean, this was Ohio. And I could hear a constant murmur of voices from somewhere, like a radio turned too low to make out the words, so the walls couldn’t be all that thick. But it was desperately dim and dusty—a partitioned-off section of basement with a cot, a door inset with bars, and a truly gag-worthy topless toilet. It stank like way too many people had tried hovering over the pot and missed. Personally, I was hoping to die a true death before things got that urgent for me.
As a distraction, my brain kept supplying images of just what ’ole Melli could want with my boyfriend. I wondered what kind of unfinished business she could be talking about and whether there was anything Bobby hadn’t told me about that post-debate fling with his dam, or whatever she’d be called in vamp lingo. But duplicity didn’t seem to be in Bobby’s makeup. He was almost absurdly noble—though really, how well did I know him? We’d been practically speed dating.
I’d already tried to turn into a bat or mist or anything that would help me escape, but either fiction had things all wrong or I wasn’t doing it right. I seriously needed to get my hands on Vampirism for Dummies, the CliffsNotes version, or maybe a subscription to Modern Goth. With my escape plan, such as it was, shot, I was reduced to counting the concrete blocks of my cell and developing extreme makeover ideas for the pitiful place when the basement door creaked open.
“Bobby!” I called, rising from the cot, fluffing up some parts of me and smoothing down others as I approached the barred door so I could see better.
But the guy who’d entered the basement was none other than Rick-the-rat-Lopez, who was partially responsible for me being in this dump.
“Traitor,” I said, too ladylike to spit.
Rick leaned against the closed door and gave me a kind of creepy grin. “Can’t be a traitor. I’d have to stand for something first.”
“Fine. Rat, sleaze, doofus—take your pick.”
He gave me one of those up and down looks guys seem to think are suave. “I don’t think you want to talk to me like that, Gina. We’re not in high school anymore. No more Chaz, no more primping posse. Just you and me—and I’m the one with the power … and the key. You play your cards right, maybe we can help each other out.”
I didn’t like the glint in his eye or the way his hand was kneading itself on his thigh, perilously close to—ewww! It was on the tip of my tongue to ask just how desperate he was that he needed to trade for favors, especially since I had to look like something the cat dragged in and batted around. But it didn’t seem too bright to drive away my only source of information, and possibly of escape.
“We might be able to come to an arrangement,” I hedged, sidling up to the bars and tamping down my gag reflex. “What does this Melli witch want with me and Bobby?”
“I didn’t come to talk about Bobby.”
I gave a cute little pout and added a nose wrinkle for good measure. “Come on. You gave us up. How do I know I can trust you? You’ve got to give me something.”
Rick got closer, close enough to try to look down my blouse, but I shied away with a squeak when he slipped a hand through the bars.
“Shhh!” he warned, which was interesting. It meant that help was pretty close by, maybe even as close as those voices I’d heard earlier—
“You want … something,” I said, shuddering to think what that was. “I want something too. Answers.”
Rick’s eyes narrowed, so I took a deep breath to distract him from the suspicion that I might be playing him. It had the usual effect of inflating my chest and riveting any man in the vicinity. Remembering to breathe took a bit of practice, but it sure got results.
“You want answers? Fine.” He spat the word out, not even bothering to lift his gaze to mine again as he spoke. “Here’s what ticks me off. Mellisande turns herself a vamp army. Even nerds like Bobby and Larry have a place in her new world order, but does she remember us baseline humans, as she calls us? Oh no—we’re too useful. She likes us just the way we are. Well, screw that. I’m branching out. So, here’s the deal: you bite me, I free you. We both win. If Larry hadn’t been there last night, we’d never have had to go through this little dance. I’d have kept you to myself and tracked you down later. He’s the one you should be pissed at.”
I considered that. It sounded good—in theory. One bite and I c
ould sashay out of here, assuming Rick really could get me out of the house and not just this damned cell, but it felt … wrong. What was I going to do on the outside? Either I could live forever in the shadows or out myself. Assuming I could avoid any righteous mobs convinced I was evil incarnate, maybe I could spin fifteen minutes of fame out of my rising. But if fame were fickle? If the cameras didn’t love me—or even capture me on film? What then? Flipping burgers? Working retail? Okay, that wouldn’t be bad as far as employee discounts went, but then there was the actual customer service. And escape would mean leaving Bobby. Running off with—gag me with a celery stalk—Rick. Maybe I should stick around long enough to see if I could make a place for myself in Melli’s “new world order.” Just as, like, a jumping off point for launching my own empire. First, though, I’d have to get out of this cell. Maybe escaping on my own terms would show her what I was made of.
“I don’t know,” I hedged. “Maybe I should see what the other side is offering first.”
His leer went a bit feral. “Nothing good. Mellisande’s got some kind of plans for your new stud, but for you? You’re like the red-headed stepchild. And with Mellisande, if you’re not one of hers, you’re no one. She keeps her people on a pretty tight leash.”
“Like you?”
He snarled. “Fine. If you won’t come willingly—”
He leapt for the cell door, key out like he was ready to stab me, but just happened to hit the keyhole instead. The door swung open, and I nearly crowed. Oh, I jumped back out of the way like some scared little girly-girl, but just far enough to put some real momentum behind the swing of my pointy-toed boot. I had Rick doubled over the family jewels before he knew what hit him.
“Gotcha!” I hooted, swooping down to grab the key. Only he still had enough presence of mind to grab my wrist, fast as thought, and twist, bringing me down onto one knee in front of him. I didn’t like the position one bit and before any qualms could take root, I head-butted him dead center. This time he really went down, howling and cursing. But his diction sucked, so I couldn’t tell which hell he’d see me in.
I grabbed the key and stepped over his writhing body to make my escape, locking the cell door behind me with Rick-the-rat on the inside.
I was in a cinderblock hallway, like Melli had finished her basement on the cheap. It echoed, so the murmur of voices bounced around, but they seemed to be coming from a set of double doors off to my right. I made for them and burst through—straight into the Twilight Zone.
The scene inside stopped me dead … well, immobile, anyway. A few eerily familiar people near the doors turned in surprise at my sudden entrance … and then I was hit with a flying tackle, like a blast from the past.
“Gina!” a voice shouted in my ear.
“Marcy!” I hugged back for all I was worth. There might have been squealing.
“Oh, Gina, thank God. I thought I was all alone in here.”
I looked around at all the people—all the very familiar, very undead bodies which, I was assuming, had gone missing from cemeteries much like the one I’d risen from. Right away I saw Cassandra Stiles, who’d died in some bizarre hot-tub incident a few weeks ago, and an underclassman whose name I couldn’t remember who’d supposedly OD’d on drugs. Marcy’d still been alive last I knew, so she must have died on prom night like me. This was, like, déjà vu all over again. High school, part two. Rick had mentioned Melli’s vamp army, but just how many had the dragon lady killed? I couldn’t take it in. All these kids …
“Becca is still on the other side,” Marcy continued, adding to my confusion.
“The other side of what?” I pulled out of the hug far enough to look into my friend’s amber eyes. I never thought I’d see them again. Suddenly, I got it. “Oh, you mean she didn’t rise?” I asked, horrified.
“She never fell,” Marcy whispered, like it was the ultimate social faux pas. “She’s still got finals and everything, poor girl. But Gina, honey, speaking of poor things, what on earth have they done to you?”
I remembered my wrinkled clothes, my continuing lack of shower or hairbrush. Further proof that my world was spinning out of control.
“Makeover!” we both cried.
8
It was the weirdest thing. I’d never been to prison, but the bizarro-world I’d entered through those double-doors looked like one of those Club Fed kind of places where they kept the shoplifting starlets of the world. It was, like, a dormitory. Boys and girls living together, complete with product and accessories. It was enough to bring tears to my eyes—only when I wiped them away they were more plasma than saline, and it totally skeeved me out.
There were a ton of questions I wanted to ask—from who to how to when. It seemed like a cross-section of Mozulla High had been drop-kicked into Mellisande’s basement. Why in the world? Why kids? Why us?
But I didn’t get the chance to ask any of my questions, since Marcy quickly found a sink and dunked my head into it, scrubbing my hair to within an inch of its life. I relaxed into it. It was like the light at the end of the tunnel, making me realize I could have my life and cheat it to. Maybe I didn’t have to crash graduation to get my groove back, though I wasn’t giving up on the idea just yet. I still had friends. I wasn’t a total misfit, cut off from everything I cared about.
It seemed like all was right with the world … until Marcy had me fling my sopping wet head up out of the water and I came face to face with my arch nemesis since childhood. And behind her, nasty smirk on his face and hand on her waist, was my ex, Chaz. My non-beating heart sank right to my toes. It just figured that eternal life would come with a catch. Or with two, in this case.
Every girl has an image of how she’d like to face down her ex, and never does it involve looking like a drowned rat. Generally, there’s a Miss Congeniality–level makeover to be considered, and I was only on step one. But hey, since our breakup was fairly non-traditional, being that it involved separation by death, I guess our reunion fit right in.
Marcy froze when she saw them, but I flung my hair about a few more times, lashing them all with my run-off—even Marcy, who was cruising for a talk about priorities and what constituted need-to-know.
“Look, honey,” Tina said with a sneer. “It’s night of the living bed-head.”
I sneered right back. “Hey, if you’d come up with that on your own, I’d be impressed, but it looks like you get everything second hand.” My gaze flicked over to Chaz and then back to the very bane of my existence—bottle-blonder-than-thou Tina Carstairs, with her knock-off designer duds and her warm and fuzzy feelings about other girls’ boyfriends. She’d been throwing herself at Chaz for, like, ever, and lucky her, he’d finally made the catch.
Speaking of which, my ex-arm-candy didn’t seem any too happy to see me.
“I hear you traded down,” Tina continued, not smart enough to realize she was outmatched. “I knew you didn’t have any taste, but to go trolling with the chess club … ”
I grinned evilly, because, I mean, come on. “Have you seen Bobby recently?”
There was more to him than spankin’ new looks, but I had to put it in terms Tina would understand. Besides, if she knew I was really interested, he’d probably be next on her “to do” list.
Whatever response she was going to make died on her lips as the double doors slammed open.
I was guessing that Rick had been found.
9
Marcy leapt back with a squeak, leaving only Tina to be pushed aside from her position up in my grill. I didn’t even have time to appreciate her indignation before two burly beefcakes grabbed my arms in vice-like grips. Yeah, because one beefcake wouldn’t have been enough. I could tell by their strength and perfection that at least smelly Melli had shown enough respect to send actual vamps. Thing One had this whole Polynesian-male-model thing cooking for him, and Thing Two looked like the slightly shaggy
young professor girls fantasize about, right down to his button-up Oxford shirt and frame-hugging dockers. If I had to be manhandled, at least it was in style.
My first instinct was to fight like the wet cat I resembled, but that went against my new plan, which was to try to make a place for myself. So instead, I whipped my hair back out of my face, lashing the naughty professor’s chest and leaving a honking big wet spot across his spiffy white shirt. “I’m ready,” I announced.
Thing One and Thing Two exchanged a look of disbelief and tightened up, like my very passivity showed I was up to something. But it was the look on Marcy’s face I was worried about. Her eyes had gone as wide as saucers. Far from defending me, she looked like I might be armed and dangerous or have some kind of communicable skin disease. It hurt. I wondered what kind of sweet deal the others had here that she’d react so badly to me causing trouble. I made a mental note to ask—if I was ever allowed back.
“Misunderstanding,” I told her. “I’ll be back.”
Melli’s thugs didn’t look too sure of that as they dragged me off with them, down the hall and up some stairs, totally ignorant of the realities of walking in a skirt and heels.
“Slow down,” I ordered. “If I break a leg on these heels, you’re gonna end up carrying me.”
They ignored that entirely.
For the second time that night I was trapped in Melli-noma’s office. Thing One buckled my knees with pressure to the backs, bringing me to the floor. There really was no need to put me on the ground, since I was totally going along with them—unless it was, like, a power thing. And going along was not going to be quite as easy as I’d thought, ’cause now I was spitting mad. And if there was one thing I hated—besides pleather and wannabees like Tina Carstairs—it was biting my tongue.
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