Temptation

by R. L. Stine

  Maybe I should have just gone along to the movie with him, she thought.

  No. No way.

  She quickly erased that thought.

  I’m always the one who gives in, always the one who compromises. He thinks he can do whatever he wants.

  This vacation is turning out to be the pits, April thought, her anger soaring. All day long I take care of my bratty sisters at the beach. Then at night Matt would rather hang out with the guys than spend time with me.

  April began to cross Seabreeze Road by the Mini Market, walking rapidly. She was so distracted by her angry thoughts that she crashed right into someone crossing from the other direction.

  “Oh!”

  Startled, she stumbled back, struggling to keep her balance.

  First, she saw a maroon pullover, then black denims.

  Then she saw a narrow, pale face, its expression as startled as hers.

  Then she recognized the face. “Gabri!”

  “Oh, hi!” he cried, still somewhat shaken. “I didn’t see you.”

  “I didn’t see you, either,” she replied, embarrassed. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I think so.” He smoothed back his black hair and flashed her a reassuring smile. “You’re in a hurry. Where are you going?”

  “Nowhere,” she admitted. “I’m going nowhere fast.”

  She thought she was making a joke, but he didn’t seem to get it.

  A horn honked. They both jumped and realized they were standing in the middle of the road. “Come on,” he said. She followed him to the walk as the car rolled by, honking again as it passed.

  “Are you with Matt?” Gabri asked, stopping in front of the Mini Market.

  “Bad subject,” April muttered.

  Gabri’s eyes seemed to light up. “Huh?”

  “No, I’m not with Matt,” April said, realizing her anger hadn’t subsided.

  Gabri stepped under the streetlight, making way for a woman who had just come out of the grocery store, struggling with three full bags of food.

  “You have to be the palest townie in the world!” April blurted out, laughing.

  Again, Gabri didn’t smile. In fact, for a brief moment, he appeared alarmed by her comment. But he quickly recovered and his warm smile returned. “It’s my job,” he explained, moving from under the light, back into the shadows near the wall of the building. “I work all day. I never get to the beach till night. It’s kind of hard to get a tan by moonlight.”

  “Where do you work?” April asked.

  “In the next town,” he said after a short pause.

  “What do you do?”

  “Whatever they tell me to,” he replied. “It’s not a very exciting job.”

  April realized that he was gazing into her eyes as they talked. Doesn’t he ever blink? she wondered. And then she thought: His eyes seem so . . . deep. Like tunnels. Like tunnels that draw you in, deeper, deeper.

  Feeling dizzy, she raised a hand to the building wall to steady herself.

  “The carnival opened tonight,” Gabri said. “Want to check it out?”

  “Yes,” April replied, without even thinking.

  And then she pictured Matt. And thought, Matt won’t like this.

  I’m going to the carnival with another boy.

  And then she thought: I don’t care. He’d rather spend his time with Ben and the guys at that stupid horror movie.

  He doesn’t care what I do.

  I have a right to have some fun too.

  Her anger flared, then slipped away as she gazed into Gabri’s eyes.

  He smiled warmly at her. “Well, let’s go.”

  This is so easy, Gabri thought, slipping an arm around April’s shoulder as they made their way to the carnival grounds.

  This is almost too easy.

  April’s going to be no trouble at all.

  CHAPTER 12 NO TIME TO REFLECT

  “How about the Twister?” April urged, staring at the lurching and spinning metal cars. The squeals of the riders punctured the soft night air.

  Gabri shielded his eyes from the glare of the flashing colored lights that ran all along the top frame of the ride. “No thanks,” Gabri said, shaking his head and holding on to April. “I like some rides, but not the kind that make you dizzy.”

  “Me too,” April agreed, gazing around the carnival grounds at the blaze of colored lights and the long row of game booths with their back walls covered with enormous stuffed animal prizes.

  “Have you ever been on the Gravitron?” she asked.

  “What’s that?” he asked warily, still shielding his eyes.

  “I guess you haven’t,” she said, teasing him.

  They walked for a bit, surveying the rides. Many of them were still and empty, awaiting riders. The carnival had opened only an hour earlier, and not many people had arrived.

  The breeze off the ocean was warm and gentle. April was glad she had decided to come with Gabri. He was fun and charming in a sort of old-fashioned way. The complete opposite of Matt, she thought spitefully.

  Her anger had passed, but she wondered if Matt would even care that she had gone out with another boy.

  “Do you like the carousel?” Gabri asked as they came to it. “This one is kind of drab, isn’t it? Look—part of that horse’s head has come off.”

  “It’s gross,” April agreed. “Carousels are too slow and babyish.” I’ll take the twins on it tomorrow night, she thought.

  “You’re in a reckless mood tonight, aren’t you!” he asked, his eyes locked on hers.

  “Maybe,” she replied coyly, feeling the pull of those dark, dark eyes.

  They walked along the row of game booths. A little kid was standing up on the counter of one booth, about to throw darts at a wall of balloons. The girl working behind the counter was ducking out of the way, about ten feet away.

  Suddenly April grabbed Gabri’s hand and tugged. “Come on. I know what will be cool.”

  He pulled back, hesitating. “What is it?”

  “I’ll show you,” she said. “Stop being such a chicken.” She tugged his arm hard, and he reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged across the grass, past the game booths to a tall structure at the back of the field.

  “Come on—” April urged impatiently. “The House of Mirrors!”

  “No!” Gabri protested.

  But April had already bought two tickets from the old, bored attendant and was pulling her reluctant companion up the ramp to the entrance.

  “Really! I hate these things!” Gabri cried, holding back.

  April wouldn’t let go. “You really are a chicken,” she chided him. “Come on, Gabri. This isn’t even scary! You’ll see!”

  She dragged him inside, a bit surprised by his fear.

  Inside, a narrow maze of glass and mirrors twisted endlessly. Staring at six reflections of herself, April laughed. Where was the opening? “Hey, Gabri—”

  But he was far behind her.

  “Gabri—you okay?” she called.

  “I think so!” she heard his voice somewhere behind a mirrored wall.

  Are we all alone in here? she wondered. She didn’t hear any other voices or any feet clomping along the metal floor.

  She leaned down as she made her way through a doorway, blinking at her several reflections, then turned a corner into an identical corridor of mirrors.

  “Hey, Gabri!”

  Was that him or just a reflection?

  “Hey, Gabri—Ouch!”

  Pain throbbed across her forehead as she walked into a mirrored pane she had mistaken for an opening. She closed her eyes and rubbed the ache away, laughing at herself for being fooled.

  When she opened her eyes, there were at least eight reflections staring back at her. In one mirror, her images seemed to repeat forever, growing smaller and smaller and less distinct as they receded to infinity.

  “Hey, I think I’m lost!” she called. “Where are you?”

  “Over here,” came a muffled reply. April spun around
, thinking he was behind her, but saw only several surprised reflections of herself.

  Feeling along the glass, she found the doorway, stepped into a darker chamber. The fluorescent light in there flickered, casting her reflections in eerie green shadows, as they stared back at her. Her expression grew troubled, exasperated.

  This isn’t as much fun as I thought, she realized, mistaking a pane of clear glass for a doorway and bumping her knee. “Ow.”

  Am I going in circles? she wondered.

  Am I ever going to get out of here?

  “Hey, Gabri?”

  No reply.

  “Gabri?”

  She decided to wait right there, not to move until he caught up.

  Why hadn’t he answered her? Maybe he wasn’t heading in her direction.

  She decided to make her way back, to retrace her steps. But that wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

  Walking carefully, trailing her hands along the glass, she followed her reflections to the chamber with the flickering fluorescent bulb.

  “Gabri? Where are you?”

  And then she glimpsed him, crouched low, staring straight ahead.

  Was that his reflection? Or was it him?

  She moved closer, could see only one image.

  “Gabri?”

  That must be him. Where were his reflections?

  It’s so hot in here, she thought, suddenly flushed and prickly all over.

  So hot. So uncomfortable.

  Her knee and forehead still throbbed, reminders of her collisions with the glass.

  “Gabri—over here!”

  Gabri closed his eyes for a minute, then opened them to stare at the reflectionless mirrors, so blank, so empty, so . . . accusing.

  It’s so hot in here, he thought. The ceilings are so low. It’s like—a coffin.

  A glass coffin.

  I’m so thirsty now. So hot and thirsty.

  I need the nectar so badly now.

  “Gabri!” He could hear her calling him, as if she knew that he needed her. “Gabri—over here! Can you see me?”

  April and I are all alone in here, he realized.

  All alone. And I’m so thirsty.

  I can’t wait any longer.

  I must have the nectar.

  The empty mirrors glared back blank at him as he eased his way silently toward her.

  There she is, he thought, gliding around a glass-walled corner, searching for me. Searching the mirrors for me.

  Well, you won’t see me in the mirrors, April.

  I’m alone tonight.

  I come for you.

  He reached for her—and hit glass.

  Startled, he recoiled, momentarily dazed by the reflected light.

  He spun around and saw reflected movement.

  “Gabri!” she called to him.

  He pounced, his arms outstretched, coming at her from behind. Once again, his hands hit glass.

  These reflections are protecting her, he thought. They’re mocking me. Mocking me!

  His anger grew to meet his thirst.

  I must drink now! I must!

  April saw him approach, his hands stretched in front of him, moving uncertainly, as if blinded by the lights. I shouldn’t have dragged him in here, she thought guiltily. He doesn’t look as if he’s having a very good time.

  Surrounded by her reflections, she called to him. “Gabri—over here!”

  He lowered his hands and turned to her, a strange smile on his face, a relieved smile, yet somehow—unpleasant. “There you are.” His voice seemed to float from far away.

  As he moved toward her, sliding along the glass walls, his eyes burning into hers, the narrow chamber seemed to close in on her, and the mirrors all fogged up.

  “Gabri—” she started, but the fog descended.

  The only light now came from his eyes.

  He moved closer still, until he appeared to hover over her.

  “Gabri—where are your reflections?” April asked dreamily.

  “It’s too dark for reflections,” he replied, sounding so far away, miles away, far across the fog.

  “But I can’t see your reflections.”

  “I’m right here,” he said, the cold gray light from his eyes penetrating hers.

  April backed into her reflections. As Gabri moved nearer, she could feel herself slipping into the infinity of images, growing smaller and less distinct as she blurred into the mirror world, a world growing darker.

  As she slipped back, Gabri leaned forward.

  Then, uttering a moan of triumph from deep within his throat, he hungrily lowered his head for the kiss.

  CHAPTER 13 WHEEL OF FORTUNE

  “What’s happening?” April wondered, floating in the darkness of the mirror world. “Is someone kissing me?”

  Then she heard the thunder of sneakers on the metal floor.

  Laughter. Shouting kids’ voices.

  The fog began to lift. The mirror images grew clearer, brighter.

  A loud crack.

  A little girl began crying, loud sobs of pain.

  “What’s that?” April cried, the mirrored chamber suddenly blindingly bright, all of her reflections opening their eyes and asking the question at once.

  Six Aprils stepping away from the glass, six mouths asking, “What’s that?”

  Gabri turned his head, willing the fangs back into his mouth, trying to stop his breathless panting, to stifle his groans, to hide his disappointment.

  When he turned back, April was running to the little girl who had smacked her head on the glass. She picked her up and tried to comfort her as several other kids gathered around.

  Feeling vulnerable without any reflections in this mirrored chamber, Gabri darted around a corner. “Meet you outside,” he called to April, shouting over the crying little girl, the squealing kids, the echoes of other footsteps approaching in the maze.

  He burst out of the exit into the warm night, moving into the shadows, his features still tight with disappointment.

  So close. So close.

  He thought of Jessica and that eager boy Todd. Was Jessica having success tonight? Was Jessica tasting the nectar, satisfying her thirst, winning their bet?

  He snickered, remembering how he had ruined Jessica’s chances a few nights before, how he had interrupted her just at her moment of triumph, how he had attacked the girl, how the girl’s terrified screams had denied Jessica her nectar.

  Keeping to the shadows, his eyes on the exit from which he had just emerged, Gabri sighed. He enjoyed thwarting Jessica, but he knew that Jessica was ahead. Jessica had already tasted the nectar. The unsuspecting boy was nearly in her power, nearly an Eternal.

  He couldn’t let Jessica win. He couldn’t.

  Perhaps I’ll have to do something drastic to stop her, something a little more exciting than creating a diversion on the beach, he thought, watching as April stepped out of the House of Mirrors.

  Fixing his mouth into a pleased smile, Gabri stepped out of the shadows and approached her. “There you are. Is the little girl okay?”

  “Yeah. Fine,” April said, hurrying to join him. “You certainly bombed out of there fast.”

  “Yeah. I know,” he replied sheepishly. “I—I mean, that place gave me the creeps. I can’t stand seeing myself so close up like that.”

  She laughed. “You look perfectly okay close up.” They started to walk across the carnival grounds, having to dodge excited kids, making their way past groups of teenagers lured from town and the beach by the discovery that the carnival had opened.

  “I felt kind of strange in there too,” April admitted, taking Gabri’s arm. “All those mirrors and weird lights. My eyes started playing tricks on me. I thought I saw you—without any reflections!”

  “Weird,” Gabri said, smiling.

  They walked past the game booths. She pulled him to a stop in front of a refreshment stand. “I want a Sno Cone,” she said. “A blue one. How about you?”

  Gabri made a disgusted face. “No
, I don’t think so. Nothing for me.”

  Pulling a dollar from her bag, she stepped into the line. “Didn’t you ever wonder why there are no blue foods?” she asked. “I always eat blue Sno Cones,” she continued, not giving him a chance to answer, “because they’re about the only natural blue food found in nature.”

  She waited for him to laugh. When he didn’t respond, she had to tell him that she’d just made a joke. He seemed suddenly distracted, as if he hadn’t really heard anything she said.

  They were walking past the kiddie rides, a small passenger train going round in a tiny circle, jet planes that rose up about six feet off the ground as they circled, and laughing at the excited little kids. April was enjoying her Sno Cone. “It doesn’t taste blue,” she said, offering Gabri a taste.

  He declined, then, glancing at her face, smiled broadly. Blue lips. The ice had given April blue lips.

  She looks dead, he thought. Dead already, and I haven’t even sunk my fangs into her throat.

  Her blue lips taunted him, teased him, tortured him.

  I must get her alone, he thought, his mouth so dry, dry and powdery, dry as death.

  I must try again.

  And this time I must succeed.

  “How about the Ferris wheel?” she asked, tossing the paper cup into a trash basket, wiping her blue lips with the back of her hand.

  “Yes!” Gabri cried. Too quickly. Too enthusiastically.

  She laughed, startled by his reaction. “You really like Ferris wheels? Don’t they make you dizzy?”

  “No,” he replied, leading the way toward the Ferris wheel revolving at the front of the field near the parking lot. The line was short. They wouldn’t have long to wait. “I love to be up high, to feel as if I’m flying.”

  “We should be able to see the ocean from the top,” April said, picking up Gabri’s enthusiasm. “And all of the town.”

  “When I was a little boy, I used to pretend that I could fly,” Gabri said, fingering the tickets as the line moved forward a few feet. “I would spread my arms and soar over the treetops. The other kids made fun of me, but I didn’t care. I pretended I could fly away from them.”

  “Funny,” April said, “I can’t picture you as a kid.”

  She didn’t really mean it seriously, but he appeared stung by the remark. His frown lasted only a second, just long enough for April to catch the hurt in his eyes.