But whatever. I’ll make it work. Someway. Somehow…
After parking in back, I pay my five dollars to the man standing at the door and head upstairs to the club itself. By day the space serves as a meeting spot for the Knights of Columbus, but you’d never know it now. The smoke machines work overtime and the strobe lights flash around the room as the walls reverberate from the heavy bass blasting from the speakers. The DJ is sitting behind a black cage, spinning my favorite Sisters of Mercy tune, “Temple of Love,” and the dance floor is packed with a mixture of mortals and vampires, all swaying intently to the beat. High above, TV screens soundlessly replay old vampire movie clips and the walls are draped with white sheets, flittering over strategically placed fans. God, I missed this place. It’s like a real-life Fangtasia from True Blood, except for the absence of hot Sheriff Northman holding court in the back.
Which is fine by me. I’ve got another vampire in mind tonight.
I scan the crowd, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. It feels weird to have a beating heart at all, never mind one so active. I’d kind of forgotten what it was like to be human, after spending so many months undead. To feel so frail and weak. Even when I was a gimped vampire, because of the blood virus in my veins, I still felt a lot more, well, immortal, than I do now. At the moment I feel like a light wind could blow me over and a vampire could take me down with his little pinkie. It’s a good thing I’m only here to flirt, not slay.
Speaking of flirting…My gaze falls upon a solitary figure in the center of the dance floor, illuminated by a single spotlight. My breath catches in my throat. Could it be?
Yes, I realize as I trace his silhouette with eager eyes. Without a shadow of a doubt.
It’s Jareth.
He looks even more beautiful than I remembered him. So elegant, dressed in black leather pants, black boots, and billowing white shirt. His cheekbones are like cut glass and in the dim club lights his beautiful emerald eyes seem to glow in the dark. I stare in awe and delight, taking in his smooth, fluid movements on the dance floor, as graceful as the most graceful of cats. If he were a contestant on Dancing with the Vamps, he’d be a first-place winner for sure.
As I watch, it’s all I can do to hang back. To stop myself from running up to him and accosting him with wild abandon, wrapping my arms around him and squeezing him tight as tears roll down my cheeks. But I check myself instead. If I want this to work—if I really want a second chance—I have to play it cool. To him, we’ll be strangers, meeting for the first time. If I go all Stage Five Clinger on him right away, he’ll go screaming off into the night and I’ll lose my chance forever. Sure, it may take some time for him to warm up to me again, but I know if I do this right, it’ll happen. After all, we’re destined to be together. To become blood mates for all eternity. If I screw that up, well, I’m not sure how I’d be able to live with myself—by myself—forever.
My feet feel like lead as I force them to take steps onto the dance floor, dodging other dancers until I somehow manage to reach the center of the room. I’m two feet from him now and suddenly frozen into place. What do I say? What’s my opening line? My tongue ties into knots and my brain refuses to work and I realize I should have come up with a better plan before I made my move. Or, you know, any plan at all.
I start to step backward, to retreat, but at that moment the DJ mixes into a rousing VNV Nation tune. The crowd roars in approval and an albino girl beside me, dressed from head to toe in Victorian steampunk, leaps in excitement, inadvertently shoving me straight into Jareth himself.
Well, that’s one way to make an entrance. In fact, maybe this is just the opening I need. I’ll fall into his strong arms, he’ll reach out to catch me. He won’t be able to help but feel the electric spark from our touch. And as he helps me gently back to my feet, he’ll wonder why he has the strangest feeling that he knows me from somewhere. Somewhere deep in the recesses of time. Shocked, he’ll grip me tighter, searching deep into my eyes, and he’ll say—
“Do you mind removing your clodhopping boot from my foot?”
O-kay then. Not exactly the romantic speech I had in mind. Face flaming, I try to regain my balance without the help, I might add, of those aforementioned, strong, electricity-sparking arms. So much for chivalry. Or recognition. In fact, the only look he’s giving me right now is one that suggests he’s thinking about knocking me down all over again.
“Sorry about that,” I say quickly, finding my center and brushing myself off. I look up at him, offering him my most charming smile. “It’s crowded in here tonight, don’t you think?”
“Not really,” he says stiffly, before starting to turn away.
On instinct I grab his arm, not wanting to lose him now, now that I’ve got my opening, however small. He turns slowly back to me, giving my hand a deliberate look. I sheepishly let go of his shirt. This is not going well, is it?
“Um, do you come here often?” I blurt out, the only thing that comes to my mind at short notice. Which just happens to be about the most unoriginal cliché thing that could come to mind in a circumstance like this. I’m so giving up my improv card.
He raises an eyebrow. “What does it matter to you if I do or I do not?”
Ugh. My smile falters at his rude reply. I guess I’d conveniently forgotten Jareth wasn’t exactly Mr. Sunshine before he fell in love with me and learned it was okay to open up and share his feelings. In fact, now that I remember it, he could be a real jerk. And there was a time when I hated him more than anyone on earth, including that annoying girl from the T-Mobile commercials.
Of course nowadays I understand why he acted so emo. I mean, you try being all Pollyanna after losing your entire family to a Slayer Inc. attack. No wonder he refused a blood mate for so many years—not wanting to risk the pain of losing someone he loved all over again. He even refused blood donors, preferring to get his blood by mail order rather than risk becoming too close to another living soul who could someday die.
And so, until he met me, he chose to walk the world alone. A solitary, noble figure, rising above the petty trappings of relationships and—
“Hey, baby!”
My eyes widen as the most tacky Goth girl I’ve ever seen in the history of sight pushes me out of the way and throws her arms around Jareth, planting a sloppy black-lipsticked kiss on his lips. Whoa. Holy fangirl alert. I wait eagerly for Jareth to push her away. To tell her to get the hell out of his sight and then—
—kiss her back?!
“Hey, sweetie, I was wondering what happened to you,” my boyfriend purrs to Miss Elvira, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her tight. As he kisses the top of her head, it’s all I can do to keep myself from screaming.
Okay, I admit it. I can’t keep myself from screaming. In fact, I start screaming my head off, if you want to know the truth. But still! What would you do if you saw something like that? Your boyfriend, who always swore he hadn’t been with anyone but you for a thousand years, hooking up with some random chick who is, I might add, completely not his type whatsoever?
Unfortunately, my screaming attracts the attention of the entire club. The DJ even turns off the music, probably thinking someone is getting drained dry on the dance floor. I clamp my mouth shut, my face burning like fire, and shrug.
“Um, sorry?”
“Who is this?” The girl demands, unwrapping herself from Jareth’s arms and turning to look at me with narrow, piglike eyes. “And why is she staring at you, Jareth?” She gives me a condescending once-over, which is ridiculous, considering she’s the one wearing last year’s Hot Topic clearance threads.
Jareth rolls his eyes, looking bored. “Just some mortal who’s evidently watched too many episodes of the Vampire Diaries.”
The girl sneers. “God, I do wish this ridiculous vampire trend would die already. It’s getting so old.”
Oooh I so want to punch that self-satisfied smirk off her face. Almost as much I want to tell her that I liked vampires way before the whole Twiligh
t phenomenon. Hell, I was reading Anne Rice and watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer in elementary school! How dare she try to play me up as some sparkly noob?
But I need to think bigger picture here. Like why the heck does Jareth have a girlfriend to begin with? I mean, sure, I hadn’t technically met him yet the first time around—we didn’t become acquainted for another month and a half, when I was assigned my first job for Slayer Inc. But still! He’d never once hinted at the time that he’d just gotten out of a serious relationship. If anything, he made it clear he’d been single for centuries.
But what can I do? Demand an explanation? Force him to explain why he never told me about a former girlfriend when, in his mind, we’d only met minutes before?
I force myself to face facts. As much as I’d like to know what the hell is going on, I realize this isn’t the time or place to ask. If I suddenly start acting like a possessive freak, I’m only going to alienate him more. No, I need to bide my time instead, wait to get him alone. Then he’ll likely be more amenable to explanation.
“Um, you can turn the music back on now,” I inform the DJ, trying to keep the tremble from my voice. “Everything’s cool.” Luckily the DJ obliges, and a moment later Muse blasts through the club and everyone starts dancing again, drama forgotten.
Except Jareth and his hoochie mama GF, who are still standing there, staring at me.
“Well, I guess I’ll, um, catch you later then,” I stammer, feeling like I need to close this awkward conversation out somehow before vanishing into the night.
“I’ll be waiting with bated breath,” Jareth replies drolly. His stupid girlfriend chortles and it’s all I can do to stop myself from drop-kicking her in the head. Instead, I force myself to take the high road, choosing to live to fight another day, turning and pushing my way through the crowd, ignoring the stares burning into my back as I head toward the exit.
I’m proud to say I manage to keep most of my tears at bay until I get into my mother’s car and drive off into the night.
7
I jump in the Prius and race home, trying and failing to obey most traffic laws. Which now is doubly risky, seeing as I no longer have that alluring vampire scent to charm my way out of a ticket, were I to be stopped by the police. But still, how can I rightly keep my mind on mundane things such as speed limits and stoplights when all I can I think about is Jareth sticking his tongue down another girl’s throat?
As I pull onto our street, my mind flashes to those final moments I spent with Jareth down in the Underworld. When he took me into his arms as I cried and consoled me as I promised, over and over again, that I’d find him, no matter what it took. I remember him whispering in my ear, telling me not to worry. We were destined to be together, he said, and there was no way a pesky little thing like a time reset could ever come between us.
Was that Jareth—my Jareth—still there, hiding deep under that smug, arrogant, in-love-with-someone-tacky exterior? Or—and this was my biggest fear, deep down—had the strands of time already taken me down a different path? An alternate future where Jareth and I are no longer meant to be together?
It’s all too much to contemplate. I pull into the driveway just in time for the tears to start all over again, blurring my vision and almost causing me to run into the garage. Salt tears, not the blood ones I’d gotten so used to crying over the last year as a vampire. A little less messy, but no more welcome, only serving to remind me that I am no longer that tough vampire, vampire-slayer girl that Jareth loved so much, but rather a weak, helpless mortal whose boyfriend is hooking up with another girl.
As I slink into the house, feeling as if my world has fallen apart, I see a light on in the kitchen. I follow it, surprised to find Sunny sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal. She looks up at me, an expression of relief written on her face.
“Where were you?” she asks. “I’ve been calling your cell all night.”
“Sorry,” I say, slumping down into a chair across from her. “I forgot it in the car.”
Sunny squints at me. “Are you okay?”
“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” I demand, my tone more defensive than I mean it to be. I should have gone to the bathroom to wipe my face and put Visine in my eyes to stop the redness. After all, I so don’t want to have to explain how I’d completely gone against what we’d agreed to on the very first night we’d agreed to it.
“Well, maybe it’s just me, but I find most people who are okay don’t usually have tears streaming down their cheeks and snot coming out of their nose.”
Ugh. I swipe my nose with my sleeve before remembering how gross that must look to my sister. All these nasty slimy bodily functions I forgot about when I became a vampire. I mean, imagine spending nearly a year bathroom free and then suddenly having to remember to go every few hours…or else.
“It’s just allergies. The pollen here is ridiculous.”
“Rayne…” Sunny narrows her eyes and gives me a hard look. “I’m your identical twin. And neither one of us has ever suffered an allergy in our entire lives. It’s part of the whole fairy gig. Remember how much money Mom saves on health insurance?”
“Fine,” I retort, giving up the pretense. She’s probably already figured it out anyway. “Jareth’s dating someone else. Someone really tacky,” I add, as if his having a cool girlfriend would be any better. But still! I want to assume he has some sort of taste in women—after all, he did pick me, right?
“And how do you know this, Miss Vampire Free, That’s Me?” Sunny asks pointedly.
I sigh. “I went to Club Fang to go dancing,” I confess. “How was I supposed to know that Jareth would be there? And with a tacky, nasty girlfriend, too.” I scowl, thinking back at her vinyl pants and bat earrings.
“Well, for one thing it is his favorite hangout…”
Yeah, yeah. “Look,” I say, deciding to come clean. “I tried to stay home. But I had to see him again. At least one more time. Then I was going to leave him forever, I swear.” I could feel the beads of sweat dripping down my forehead. God, it sucks to be a human. There are way too many ways to be caught lying.
Sunny purses her lips. “O-kay,” she says slowly. “So you saw him. Are you ready to leave him forever now?”
I lean down, banging my head against the table mournfully. “No,” I admit. “And I can’t imagine I ever will be. I mean, one look and I was completely smitten all over again. Except for the fact that he was super-rude this time around.”
“Um, if I remember right, he was super-rude the first time around as well,” my sister reminds me.
“Yeah, but that was only because I was a member of Slayer Inc.,” I protest. “The same organization that killed his family. This time he started hating on me for no reason whatsoever.”
My sister raises an eyebrow.
“Okay, maybe there was a tiny reason. I tripped and stepped on his toes. But accidental toe-stepping shouldn’t warrant full-on hate, should it? I mean, maybe mild dislike and annoyance. But you should have seen him. It was as if I’d burned up his favorite Batman shirt.” I look up. “And did I mention he has a girlfriend? A tacky, nasty, disgusting girlfriend?”
“Hmm. Yes. Several times, in fact.”
“I know, I know. But I can’t help it. I mean, how would you like it if you went and found Magnus and he had a girlfriend in tow?” I sigh. “But, of course, you wouldn’t go and do that. You’re smarter than me and appreciate the second chance you’ve been given. You’d never go off and try to find Magnus after vowing to live a vampire-free…” I trail off, suddenly seeing my sister for the first time. “Hang on a second. Is that my corset?”
Sunny’s face turns bright red. “Um, maybe? Yeah?”
“Since when do you wear corsets?”
“Um…” She bites her lower lip. “Since Easy A was on HBO? Emma Stone rocked them so well, I thought I’d—”
“Sunshine McDonald. You went to see Magnus tonight!”
“No!” she cries, her eyes wide. “I ju
st—”
“Just dressed up as me and attended my vampire-certification class,” I conclude. “And here you had the nerve to go all Judge Judy on me for going to Club Fang.”
Sunny stares down at her bowl of cereal.
“I knew it!” I cry, actually feeling kind of better knowing the truth. That I’m not the only weak McDonald twin after all. “He didn’t have a surprise girlfriend, by any chance, did he? Like a really tacky, nasty, disgusting, hideous one?”
My sister shakes her head emphatically. As if her future boyfriend would never dream of cheating on his future love. “No,” she says. “In fact, he was very sweet. Of course he thought I was you, I guess.”
“Well, duh. You did wear my clothes.”
“Which didn’t impress him in the slightest, let me tell you,” Sunny points out. She pauses, then adds, “Not to mention—how the heck do you scratch your bellybutton when you’re wearing this thing?”
“You don’t. You suffer for fashion,” I reply curtly. “But let’s not change the subject here, Sunny my girl. What happened at class? Did you let him bite you?” I study her neck closely, searching for marks or bruises. After all I sacrificed for her…
But my sister shakes her head. “No. No biting,” she assures me. “Not even a practice one.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“No…well, not really.” Sunny sighs. “Rayne, I’ve been thinking…”
I lean forward. “Yes?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate all you did to get us back here and give us a second chance. And it’s not like I suddenly want to become a vampire or anything. But, at the same time, do we really have to go all cold turkey on the entire otherworld? I mean, look at us. Night number one and we’ve both epically failed to stay vampire free. What does that say about our chances for the future?”
“Well, I definitely wouldn’t go to Vegas on the odds…”