An elderly couple sharing a pot of tea seemed preoccupied by our presence.
“Dude, did you see her checking me out?” Sebastian teased as Alexander dropped a few dollars in the tip jar.
The woman rose and made her way toward us.
“I think she heard you,” my boyfriend said, taking his hot chocolate.
“I do like older women,” Sebastian whispered, “but this one is using a walker.”
The woman slowly approached Alexander, who towered over her. The demure lady had two circles of soft blush on her powder-white skin. Alexander politely stepped aside, assuming she was going to order.
She was quick to grab his hand. “Are you the Sterling who lives in the Mansion on Benson Hill?” she asked.
The two baristas ceased brewing and the entire shop of coffee klatches eagerly listened.
Alexander looked as if he wasn’t sure how to respond. No one in town had ever talked to him before. Even though the elderly woman wasn’t threatening, we were still uncertain of her motives.
“Uh…yes,” he finally replied.
“We have a Sterling painting hanging in our home. I bought it at the art auction last month. We were told it was by an up-and-coming Romanian artist. Is the artist a relative of yours?”
“Yes, a very distant one—” Sebastian interjected before Alexander had a chance to speak.
I was surprised by Sebastian’s remark, especially since it wasn’t true.
“Are you kidding?” I asked. Alexander was too humble to speak up. “Alexander’s the artist,” I announced proudly.
My boyfriend glared at me and shook his head.
“But you are so young,” the woman complimented. “It couldn’t be you.”
“It is!” I said, glowing. “Isn’t he wonderful?”
“My husband would love to meet you…,” she said, referring to the older gentleman seated at her table. “If you have a moment…”
“Uh…I appreciate that—” Alexander began politely.
“Perhaps another time,” Sebastian interjected again. “We really should be going.”
Like a savvy media handler, Sebastian whisked us away from the woman before she could ask any more probing questions.
“See, I told you Alexander attracts the ladies,” Sebastian lamented. “If only she were sixty years younger.”
Sebastian was leaning against an already tilting tombstone while Alexander and I were nestled together on a cold cement bench.
“This town is relaxing,” Sebastian commented, gazing at the stars. “Besides that curious woman, no one really bothers you. You could hide out here forever and no one would notice.”
“I think they notice,” I corrected. “And most of the people do bother me.”
“Not when I’m around,” Alexander said.
“True. I’m lucky; I have a bodyguard.” I took a sip of coffee. “Speaking of bodyguards…Why didn’t you guys talk to that couple? I figured you’d want to tell everyone about your paintings.”
“It’s probably best not to…,” my boyfriend said.
“You don’t have to be humble,” I told him. “But I must confess it is an endearing quality.”
I rested my head on Alexander’s shoulder, and he gently stroked my hair.
“In this case, it’s survival,” Sebastian said. “Would you like Alexander to be run out of town?”
“Of course not,” I said, sitting up.
“Then he can’t become the next Picasso,” he added.
“But he sold his paintings to half the town,” I challenged. “They are bound to wonder who painted them.”
“Yes, and then they’ll be asking questions. Who is this mysterious artist that lives on Benson Hill? Why does he live by candlelight? Why does he sleep in a coffin?”
“I wasn’t planning on telling them what he is, just who he is—an amazing artist,” I defended. “You know that, Alexander.”
“Of course,” he reassured me. “I don’t think we have to worry. She was just a kind and elderly woman. I don’t think she’ll be asking for a tour of the Mansion anytime soon.”
“You’re right,” Sebastian conceded. “Far be it from me to come to town and upset what you’ve established here. You have a really sweet setup. But for me…I need more….”
“Excitement?” I wondered aloud.
“No.”
“Wi-Fi?”
Sebastian leaned toward us and glanced around. “Vampires,” he whispered.
I was surprised by his candor.
“I’m not sure if I could be the only one in town,” he admitted to me. “That’s why I always admired
Alexander. He seems comforted by the things that frighten me the most.”
I melted at his compliment for my boyfriend. I’d always regarded Alexander with such high esteem, and I blushed knowing that others did as well. Alexander must have been touched, too, because a warm smile came over his face.
“This is a great place for someone like us,” Sebastian said, stretching out again. “If you don’t mind being the only immortal.”
Sebastian’s remark filled me with loneliness for my boyfriend. Maybe Alexander was better off not being the only vampire in town.
“Do you think you’ll move here, too?” I asked. “Then Alexander wouldn’t be the only one.”
“Actually, I’ll be taking off in a few days,” Sebastian replied. Alexander didn’t seem surprised, but I was disappointed.
“But you just got here,” I said.
“I never stay in one place too long when I travel…. Don’t want dust to collect on my casket.”
“But we’re having so much fun. Aren’t we, Alexander?”
“Yes—” But Alexander didn’t need to respond. His face showed a contentment I wasn’t sure Sebastian had ever seen.
“Besides, I’m cramping your space,” Sebastian said.
“It’s a mansion,” I said. “All it has is space.”
“Yes—you can stay as long as you like,” Alexander said. “You know that.”
Sebastian surveyed Alexander and me hand in hand, cuddling on the bench. Then he gazed off into the distance. “Perhaps I need to add a bigger city to my collection. And, who knows, I might get lucky and meet someone there like you did here.”
Sebastian took a swig of his coffee, crushed the cup in his hand, and tossed it into a garbage can. He popped in his earbuds and began dancing his way around the tombstones.
“Looking for someone you know?” I asked.
“You never know who you’ll find at one of these places.”
Where Alexander had found a moment of peace, Sebastian was restless. He was searching for himself in the many cities plastered on his coffin. But just like in Barcelona, New York, Rome, and the many other places he visited, he hadn’t found a home in Dullsville.
Not only was I caffeinated—I was confused. It was more than a giant-size caramel mocha that was creating my insomnia. I lay awake in bed, clutching Nightmare as she fell asleep in my arms. How could she sleep so peacefully when so much was going on? At first I didn’t want another visitor in the Mansion, but now, after meeting Alexander’s best friend, I wasn’t ready for him to leave Dullsville. Sure, he was disorganized and messy, but he had an insight into Alexander that I couldn’t get without him.
And I found myself feeling a little jealous that he had the freedom to fly off to the bright lights of the cities far away. I could only imagine what it would be like to have the opportunity to monster-watch at Loch Ness, search for witches in Salem, or camp beneath Dracula’s castle in Romania.
Also, I was getting a little attached to Sebastian. It wasn’t only that he was more playful than the other vampires I’d met, like Jagger or Luna, but I was concerned how Alexander would feel when his friend left him behind. I couldn’t imagine a happy existence without Becky by my side.
First Alexander’s parents left, and now his best friend would be going. Could this mean that Alexander would want to leave, too? Their visits and event
ual returning to his homeland, Romania, might remind him of what he’d been missing since his own arrival in Dullsville. He had roots with his vampire family and friends. And if he didn’t turn me into a vampire, would he eventually become lonely surrounded by mere mortals? I began to wonder if I could possibly be enough reason for him to stay.
4
Vampire Love
Alexander appeared confident and content in the company of our cryptic clique as we entered Hatsy’s Diner. He hummed “Love Me Tender” as Elvis’s voice crooned throughout the fifties-themed restaurant.
Once again our odd threesome was met with glaring eyeballs, but my immortal companions appeared unaware. Sebastian seemed immediately taken with the charm and authenticity of the diner and was intrigued by the juke-boxes. While the vampires picked out a few songs, I found Becky sitting in a red vinyl booth, texting.
I plopped down across from her. “Where’s Matt?” I asked.
“He has to study. But he says hello.” She held her phone in front of my face. It displayed the words L8TR QT followed by Tel R Hi.
I waved to the phone.
Although I loved that Alexander was reclusive and shrouded himself in mystery, I did wonder what it would be like if Alexander had a phone and I could receive sweet nothings on my phone—LUV U LOTZ, Can’t W8 2
C U, A X R. I had a million girlie texts from Becky and quite a few nagging ones from my mom but nothing close to the love notes Becky was receiving from Matt.
Suddenly, Alexander and Sebastian were standing at our booth. Alexander’s black hair hung sexily over his deep, dark eyes, his white collar perched up around his neck, and he wore a dark jacket and tight jeans. His
Underworldly cohort, Sebastian, stood with his hands in his oversized pockets, sporting sparkling earrings and wildly woolly locks.
“Becky,” I began. “This is Sebastian.”
Sebastian and Becky locked eyes. They both froze for a moment that lingered like an extra heartbeat. There seemed to be an electric charge that surged between the two. His pale face flushed ruby red. She giggled without a sound.
“Come sit down,” I said, hoping to sever their strange and sudden connection.
“Oh yeah,” Sebastian said, as if coming out of a fog. Becky quickly shut her phone.
Alexander scooted next to me and placed one hand on my red-and-black-striped tighted knee and the other around my shoulder. He smelled yummy in his lightly scented Drakkar, and my pulse quickened.
Sebastian inched awkwardly onto the bench next to Becky. The seemingly self-assured guy appeared suddenly shy and smitten. He tucked his hair behind his ear and played with the rings on his fingers.
Becky held her purse tightly in her lap like a child’s teddy bear and nervously twisted the nylon strap.
“I hope you’re hungry,” I said, and handed Sebastian a menu that sat behind the tabletop jukebox.
“You know I am,” he mumbled.
Sebastian fidgeted in the booth and tapped his fingers against the menu. Becky avoided him by flipping through the jukebox songs.
Dixie, a familiar waitress, came over. She wore her hair in a black beehive, and her curvy figure was squeezed into her white uniform like a forties pinup girl’s. When she wasn’t reading a tabloid magazine at the soda counter, she was heckling her customers. She had a heart of gold but little patience for the teen clientele.
“What’ll you have?” she asked.
Sebastian hadn’t had time to open his menu; he was too busy perusing Becky. “What are you getting?” he asked Alexander.
“The malts are fabulous,” Alexander said.
“Order anything you’d like, Sebastian,” I said.
“Anything? Or anyone?” Sebastian gave a cheeky wink to my best friend.
Sebastian waited for her response. Embarrassed, Becky blushed and giggled. Sebastian took that as a positive sign and he, too, grinned.
Alexander chuckled and I sneered. I was the only one not finding any humor in his comment.
“Four chocolate malts, four burgers, and two atomic fries,” I said to Dixie.
“Sounds good to me,” Becky said.
“How do you want the burgers cooked?” Dixie cracked her gum so loud it sounded like a car backfiring.
“Rare,” Sebastian said.
Alexander kicked Sebastian underneath the table.
“Rare?” Becky asked.
“We don’t serve hamburgers rare here.” With the tip of her pen she pointed to a small disclaimer on the bottom of the menu. “This isn’t a five-star restaurant, if you hadn’t noticed. You can order your burgers ‘burnt’ or ‘not burnt.’”
“Then four not-burnt burgers,” Alexander said with a grin.
Dixie blew a pink bubble, winked at Alexander, and wiggled toward the kitchen.
We all cracked up, and when our laughter subsided there was an awkward silence.
Sebastian checked out Becky, which caused her to fiddle with her napkin.
“Alexander and Sebastian grew up together in Romania,” I told her. “Just like us, best buds.”
“That’s great,” Becky said demurely. She wrung the napkin again.
Since no one else was talking and I was dying to find out more about Alexander, I figured this was as good a chance as any to steer the conversation in that direction.
“So what did you two guys do for fun in Romania?” I asked.
Alexander shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know—we just hung out.”
“And played golf?” I asked.
“No.” Alexander laughed. “We did the things kids do—”
“Yes—but you weren’t normal kids.”
Becky appeared puzzled.
“I mean, since Alexander’s grandmother was a baroness,” I said, covering my comments.
Dixie returned with our shakes. Becky hid behind hers and the rest of us began to devour ours.
“Did you get into trouble?” I asked.
“I did—” Sebastian said. “But Alexander was always there to get me out of it.”
I nestled into my boyfriend.
“What do you do for fun?” Sebastian asked Becky.
“Me?” she asked, surprised the conversation was directed toward her.
“Yes.”
Becky leered at me as if I were going to answer for her.
Sebastian waited, but Becky didn’t answer. She just played with her straw.
“We do girlie things,” I answered for her. “Talk, gossip, and talk some more.”
“Do you like cemeteries?” he asked.
“Me?” She shook her head vehemently.
“Was Alexander in his attic room painting like he is now?” I asked.
“Uh…yes. He always was working on some masterpiece. But he rarely showed me. He kept them hidden in an armoire in his room. Do you paint or draw?” he asked Becky.
“No—I’m not an artist.”
“Did you guys go clubbing?” I asked Sebastian.
“Sure, sometimes. Do you like to go out, Becky?”
“Uh…me?”
“Alexander,” I said, clearing my throat. “I left something in the car. Can we go get it?”
“Uh…sure,” my boyfriend replied.
Sebastian reached into his back pocket and handed Alexander his keys.
Once Alexander and I were outside Hatsy’s, I stopped.
“The car is over there,” Alexander said.
“I didn’t forget anything. I wanted to talk to you.”
Alexander was perplexed. “What do you want to talk about?”
“What is going on with Sebastian?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m trying to have a conversation with him and all he wants to do is talk to Becky.”
“He doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just being polite.”
“Does he think we were fixing him up?” I asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, he needs to back off. Don’t you see the way he’s staring a
t her? He’s hitting on her.”
“I think you might be overthinking it,” Alexander said soothingly.
“Did he ask me one question?” I charged.
Alexander paused. “Is that what this is about? That he’s not paying attention to you?” he asked sweetly. “He doesn’t always have the best manners. I do try to tell him….”
“No—I don’t care that he doesn’t ask me.”
But perhaps it did bother me. Maybe I was getting wrapped up in his attention toward Becky. Maybe I was oversensitive to his advances since they were not directed toward me. I felt like a heel, accusing Alexander’s friend of preying on Becky.
“Okay, okay. I guess I’m just being overprotective of Becky, like you are of me.”
When we returned, Sebastian was holding Becky’s hand and reading her palm. “This is your life line—and this is your love line.” He was seductively tracing her lines with his finger. “Very strong indeed.”
“See?” I whispered to Alexander.
“Now I’ll show you mine.” He scooted closer to her and held out his palm.
Becky giggled uncontrollably. She glanced at a long line running through his hand. She had a quizzical look on her face. “Wow—your life line seems to go on forever.”
Now Alexander wasn’t pleased with Sebastian’s flirting.
“How about you tell them about the time you drove your Mustang through the cemetery and it almost fell into an empty grave,” Alexander prompted his friend, taking charge of the situation.
Just then Dixie arrived with a tray full of food. Sebastian tore into his burger while Becky picked at her fries.
I could tell she wanted to say something to Sebastian. Normally, Becky was painfully shy, but with
Sebastian’s playful attitude toward her, she was loosening up. “What do you and Alexander do all day while we go to school?” she asked suddenly.
Sebastian was pleased with her interest. “Sleep.”
“You sleep all day? I can’t imagine not getting up when the sun rises.”
“Well, I stay up all night.”
“Like Raven? She has insomnia. She’d sleep all day and go to school at night if she could.”
“Or not go to school at all,” I chimed in.
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