She turned the corner and headed toward a residential area. I followed, acutely aware that I was gasping for breath. Ryan was close to catching up to me, but I couldn't wait. The girl was only a few yards ahead of me now.
"Daisy!" Ryan hollered. "Do you realize we're following someone who could kill us?"
"We've got to see where she's going," I gasped. "You heard what they said at the council meeting. The fledgling can lead us to the vampire."
We were in an older section of Nightshade. Oak trees flanked the street and the houses sat back from the sidewalk as if they wanted nothing to do with the street.
She reached a row of neatly kept houses and veered quickly, changing directions.
"Chelsea! We can help you," I hollered.
"Nobody can help me," she shouted. She cut through a yard and hopped a six-foot fence with ease.
The stitch in my side stopped me. There was no way I could have caught her now, even if I had the superhuman strength needed to hop a six-foot fence like I was hopping over a jump rope.
I was bent over trying to remember how to breathe when Ryan caught up with me.
"Where'd she go?"
Still too winded to speak, I pointed.
Ryan started to take off after her, but I stopped him. "Too ... late," I wheezed.
A porch light came on and a figure appeared in the door. "Who is out there? What's going on?" I couldn't see her clearly, but the woman's voice sounded elderly, quavering, and fearful.
The figure moved to the front porch and peered at us.
She came down the stairs, and that's when I recognized her. "Daisy, is that you?" I swear the woman's voice changed, became lighter, more lilting somehow. It was Miss Foster, my gym teacher and cheer coach. "What are you doing here this time of night?"
"Just taking a walk, Miss Foster," I said. I hoped she couldn't see the sweat streaming from my forehead. "Sorry to have disturbed you."
Before she could reach us, I grabbed Ryan's hand and headed back the way we came.
"There's a mint-condition pink '57 T-bird in her driveway," I said.
Ryan looked at me admiringly. "You know a lot about cars."
"Just that model," I said. "My dad always wanted one. Not necessarily a pink one, of course. But that's not the point. The point is, Poppy and I saw that same car leaving the hospital when we went to visit Rachel."
"I've never seen it at school," Ryan said.
"Maybe she saves it for special occasions," I said darkly. "Like when she's sucking the souls out of innocent victims."
I was positive now that Miss Foster was our vamp. But I couldn't go to the city council armed only with suspicions. I had a feeling they'd stake first and ask questions later, and I didn't want to be responsible for an innocent woman's death. No, I had to find proof that Miss Foster was our vamp and I needed to find it soon.
When we got back to Slim's, the ambulance had already left.
"How is he?" Ryan asked Flo.
She shrugged. "They wouldn't tell me much," she said, "but they did say that it was lucky I called 9-1-1 when I did. A few minutes later and he would have died."
She handed Ryan a quart of ice cream. "Here you go. The other one melted."
There was still a sticky puddle on the floor where Ryan had dropped the ice cream to chase after me.
"Flo, do you remember anything about the girl who was with him before he collapsed?"
She thought about it for a minute. "Not really. Although I did notice her tattoo. A tiny four-leaf clover on her hand," she replied.
"Thanks, that's helpful." It was our dead girl, I was sure of it. I wandered over to the booth where Bane and Chelsea had been earlier. Nothing there. Not a clue about where she'd gone or what she was doing at Slim's, besides making bad dating choices. I wanted to bang my head against the table, I was so frustrated.
My cell rang. I thought about ignoring it, but I could see it was my sister.
"You've got to get back here now," Poppy said in a low voice. "Mom's going ballistic. I sorta implied something. I didn't know Mom would freak. I'm really sorry. I had to come up with something."
I started to ask her what was up, but she had already clicked off.
Chief Mendez and Mom were waiting for us outside by the time we got back.
"Don't say a word, young lady," she said, practically the second we got out of the car. "You are in so much trouble." I glanced at her face and knew she spoke the truth. Mom was pissed, but about what?
"For going to get ice cream?" I said, truly puzzled.
"You've been gone over an hour," Mom said. "Don't tell me it takes that long to get ice cream. We know exactly what you two have been doing and it's going to stop."
I felt the heat creeping up my face and refused to look at Ryan. Either my mom had an exceptionally suspicious mind or Poppy had royally screwed things up this time. What was really weird is that I'd never seen Mom act like that before, not even when she'd caught the usually saintly Rose sneaking out of her room with Nicholas Bone when she was a junior.
"But Mom—" I tried to get in a word.
"You're grounded," she said, "and that's final."
Ryan had been studying his sneakers intently, but when Mom said that, his head snapped up and he finally looked me in the eyes. I could tell he was nearly as embarrassed as I was, but he forged ahead anyway. We couldn't miss homecoming.
"Ms. Giordano, Daisy and I weren't doing ... anything wrong," he said. "We were at Slim's when Bane Paxton had a seizure. Flo called 9-1-1 and everything."
"Oh," Mom said. She was silent for a moment. "Oh, I'm so embarrassed. Daisy, I apologize for jumping to conclusions. When Poppy said ... I naturally assumed..." She trailed off uncertainly.
For a second, I thought about blurting out that Ryan and I knew all about the psionic vampire they were chasing down, so they would stop treating us like children and whispering about it behind closed doors. But I took a deep breath and remembered that Ryan's dad was probably in the council, and those guys seemed capable of doing some serious damage. I needed to stick to the original plan of cold, hard proof on Miss Foster before I went to the authorities. And that included my mom.
"Let's go inside and have dessert," Ryan suggested, "before the ice cream melts any more than it already has."
I wondered to myself what in the heck Poppy had said to get Mom so fired up. Whatever it was, I needed to make sure to avoid any mention of it in the future.
Chapter Nineteen
Finally, Saturday arrived. The big homecoming game. I stood there on the field shivering in my cheerleading uniform. Despite the cold, Samantha looked radiant.
I had never been a huge fan of football before, but one look at Ryan in his football jersey and I was hooked. After about a month on the cheerleading squad, I had finally figured out some basics. Sean threw the ball, Ryan caught the ball, and Wyatt Pearson tackled anyone who got in their way.
Truthfully, I'd never even been to a football game before becoming a cheerleader. Still, I felt a secret thrill when Ryan ran forty-five yards for a touchdown. The crowd roared its approval.
I turned to Sam. "That's good, right?"
Penny smirked, but Sam smiled. "That's great, Daisy," she said.
I did a triple cartwheel and then ended with splits.
We were playing the San Carlos Squids, and we absolutely clobbered them. The game ended with a 21…14 victory for the Sea Monsters.
After the game, the cheerleaders hustled to Samantha's house to prepare for the dance. The Devereaux house was palatial by Nightshade standards. I had been there tons of times back in middle school. But this time, something was different. Like a significant lack of furniture.
The Devereauxs' great room was a hugely imposing space that used to be decorated with leather sofas, oriental rugs, and enormous mahogany bookcases. The room seemed even bigger without the bookcases. The walls were faded in the places where paintings used to hang.
"We're redecorating," Samantha said. "Now, quit ga
wking so we can get busy."
She led us all upstairs to get ready. I noticed with amusement that her bedroom, unlike her wardrobe, hadn't changed. It was still frilly and pink.
"I don't know why they have to have the dance the same night as the game," Penny complained. "It doesn't give us enough time to get ready." She seemed so low energy lately. Even though we weren't the best of friends, I still worried her soul was slowly being drained by the vamp. If she had a soul, that is. She hadn't shown much evidence of one.
"It's tradition," Samantha said. "So the players have something to look forward to if they lose."
"Fortunately, we won," I said. "But a slow dance isn't much of a consolation."
"So says the innocent," Samantha said knowingly.
As I pulled on my dress, I listened to the other girls discussing what they hoped to do with their dates later that night. It made me nervous. I wondered what Ryan expected.
"How are you and Wyatt getting along?" Mari Lopez asked Jordan as they applied their makeup in Samantha's vanity mirror.
"All right," Jordan answered indifferently. She giggled and added, "But he has more hands than an octopus."
"Slug him," I suggested.
"What for?" she said, staring at me vacantly.
Samantha offered to do my hair and makeup. Since she always looked like she was ready for a formal dance, I figured she'd do a better job than I would. An hour later, I had been poked, prodded, and powdered into perfection. Or at least as close to perfection as I was going to get. Samantha had tamed my unruly hair into a crown of curls and did my makeup with an expert hand.
"Wow," I said when I saw my reflection. "Thanks, Samantha."
"Don't mention it," she said. "I can't wait to see Ryan's face when he sees you."
"What time is it?" Penny asked, shaking a bottle of black nail polish. "Do I have time to redo my manicure?"
"Not unless that's the quick-drying stuff," said Alyssa, glancing down at her wristwatch. "The guys will be here to pick us up in an hour."
Alyssa," Samantha said, "why aren't you wearing the bracelet I gave you?"
Alyssa looked sheepish. "Sorry, Samantha, it clashed with my dress."
Samantha surveyed the wrists of the other cheerleaders in the room. I was the only one wearing my ankh bracelet, and truthfully, it was only because I didn't really have any other nice jewelry that would complement my dress.
Samantha became flustered and bitchy all over again. "Daisy, can you please stop staring at yourself in the mirror? I've got to put on my own makeup. Why don't you go put on some music?"
She elbowed me out of her way. I put my hands on my hips. "Samantha—" I started to say more, but she interrupted me.
"Please, Daisy, please put on some music," she said. "I'm sorry I'm bossing you around. I'm just nervous."
I had no idea what Samantha had to be nervous about. She would surely steal the show when she walked into the homecoming dance in that sexy little black number she was wearing. I walked over to her CD rack and rifled through her collection. I spotted an old Hillary Duff CD, circa sixth grade, that I thought would get a few laughs, at least. Everyone was taking this dance way too seriously.
"Not this, Daisy," Samantha snapped. "If I wanted to listen to kiddie pop, I'd go hang out at the elementary school."
I suppressed a sigh and handed Jordan a stack of music. "Maybe you can find something," I said.
I stormed downstairs. I needed to bang some pots and pans or something. It was either that or strangle our hostess. Samantha could be such a pain sometimes.
I usually cooked when I was upset. And I was upset, but the Devereaux kitchen soothed me. It was amazing, at least to a foodie like me. The kitchen was all granite countertops, maple cupboards, and gleaming stainless-steel appliances.
Too bad there were only a few eggs, some questionable-looking cheese, and a stale loaf of bread in the state-of-the-art fridge. I decided I'd make myself an omelet while the other girls finished their dance preparations. It was better than being bossed around by Samantha upstairs.
I rummaged through the cupboards until I found a mixing bowl and utensils. When I was looking for a spatula, I also found a stack of past-due bills. What were they doing hidden there? The Devereauxs were rich, weren't they? Were they in trouble?
I was puzzling over it when suddenly I spotted something much more interesting poking out from underneath the bills. It was a crumpled photocopy of an old newspaper article. And sure enough, there was the photo. Ryan was right—the woman in the photo looked exactly like Miss Foster. My blood ran cold as I slowly realized what this meant. Samantha must have been the one who attacked Ryan for the article. Was she covering for Miss Foster? Or was Sam herself a vamp?
Before I could figure it out, Samantha burst into the kitchen. "Daisy, I just want to apologize—" she started, and then stopped dead when she saw I was holding the article in my hands. "I can explain," she said.
"Well then you'd better start," I said, taking a step back toward the sliding-glass door to the patio in case she was going to take this opportunity to come after me and suck my soul.
"Look, Daisy, I've known for a while there was something weird going on with Miss Foster, and what I heard from you and your sisters and Ryan that night I was at your house just confirmed it," Samantha said. "I left your house early the next morning because I wanted to get to school before her so I could search her office. I found that article crumpled up in her trash can."
I looked at her skeptically. "Then why didn't you tell me? Or someone else? How could you just sit back and continue to let her suck souls?"
"I didn't know exactly what she was doing," Samantha protested. "All I knew is that cheerleaders were getting sick and it seemed to be related to her. But I knew if I told someone I'd just sound crazy, and they'd probably send me to the school therapist again."
"Again?" I hadn't been aware Sam had any mental problems. Attitude problems, maybe.
Sam nodded. "There have been some, um, issues with my family lately," she said. I could tell she didn't want to talk about it. I'd have to grill her about it later. "That's why I just thought it would be better to keep my mouth shut. You and your sisters have each other. You even have psychic powers. You're much better equipped to handle the situation than I am."
I was about to protest that I didn't have psychic powers, but then I remembered what had happened when I was preparing dinner the other night. For now, I'd just hope that wasn't a fluke.
I looked down at the article again. My hands were still shaking. "Well, now that we have proof that Miss Foster is going around attacking people, we have to tell someone," I said.
"How about your mom?" Sam suggested. "She'll know what to do."
I nodded. "She's on her way over here to take pictures of us before the dance. We'll tell her everything then."
Suddenly Sam's eyes widened. "Chelsea?" she said. "What is she doing here?"
I whirled around. There was the baby vamp, standing outside on the Devereaux patio. I flung open the sliding-glass door and approached her slowly.
"Oh, Chelsea," I said. The fear left me and I walked toward her. "I can take you home," I coaxed.
She took a step back and shook her head, but I could see the yearning in her eyes.
"I can help you."
She shook her head again and then vaulted over the fence.
I didn't go after her. I really couldn't have if even I wanted to, not in three-inch heels and an evening gown.
"What the hell was that?" Samantha shrieked.
"I'll explain later," I said. "Right now we have to warn the other girls there's a vampire in the vicinity."
We rushed upstairs. But to my horror, Samantha's bedroom was empty. Lip glosses and curlers lay scattered about. The cheerleaders were gone.
I went back downstairs as fast as my dyed-to-match pumps would carry me, with Samantha following close behind. Sure enough, the front door was wide open. I caught up to them at the end of Samantha's driveway
. There was a line of cheerleaders walking down the street in the direction of the high school. Some of them were barefoot, and all of them had glazed, unfocused looks in their eyes.
Sam and I fell into step behind the last cheerleader and tried to replicate their vacant stares. Evidently, our destination was the high school. Moonlight cast strange shadows across the big double doors. I took a deep breath and entered after the other girls.
The corridors, which should have been full of people rushing around and preparing for the big dance, were eerily empty. We headed for the gym. It was decorated with streamers and balloons. The girls in front of me lined up like they were getting ready to execute a routine. I fell into formation and waited, my heart beating rapidly, for the vamp to appear.
I started to shiver when I sensed a malignant presence. Then I was slipping into the vampire's mind.
I didn't mean to, but it just happened. Kind of like accidentally bumping into someone else's brain. It was like slipping into a sewer, black and foul. I sensed fear, loneliness, and incredible hunger. Hunger that would never be satisfied.
Chapter Twenty
Sure enough, it was my perky, soul-stealing cheerleading coach. She stood directly in front of the cheerleaders. I barely recognized Miss Foster; her features were so contorted with rage and ... age.
She looked like she'd aged about a hundred years since I last saw her. She was hunched over and her skin was yellow and as clear as cellophane.
She grabbed Penny Edwards's arm and felt it like she was picking out the best cut of meat at the butcher shop. I tried not to throw up. The rest of the squad stood there like good little lambs.
"Leave them alone!" I shouted.
"Daisy Giordano," the thing hissed. "You have been a thorn in my side."
I stepped closer to the vampire and recognized the smell of Aqua Net, the same scent I'd detected at the club.
"That aerosol smell," I said, "is that a vamp thing?"
"That's a hair-spray thing," Miss Foster replied. "A girl has to look her best."