Never Bite a Boy on the First Date (11 page)

A
fter Milo dropped me off at home, I hung up my wet clothes and dug my jeans out of the pile at the bottom of my bed. In the left pocket was the red bead I’d found at the murder scene. I examined it in the low light from my bedside lamp. It was a deep, rich scarlet, the color of a drop of blood. And it looked exactly like the ones in Milo’s necklace.

What does that mean?

Well, for one thing, it meant I was right to think I should investigate him. So…yay, me?

Of course, there could be a normal explanation. He could easily have lost it there sometime during the day before the murder.

Or…he could have lost it during the struggle if, say, he
was
the murderer.

But he seemed so…non-murder-y. He was
all ice cream and puppies and sexy swimmer’s arms. Why would he kill Tex?

Why would anyone?

Was this just a hungry vampire attack? Or did someone have a good reason for killing the school’s star quarterback?

Maybe I needed to find out more about Tex.

I fell asleep thinking about this, trying to make my sun headache go away. I dreamed that Milo and I were swimming together, up and down the length of the pool. I beat him to the wall, but when I turned around, Milo was gone and Daniel was floating faceup beside me.

“Where’s Milo?” I asked.

He pointed, and I looked up to the windows where Rowan was standing, looking down at us in the pool.

“That’s Rowan,” I said.

“Is it?” said Daniel, and then I looked down and realized the pool water had turned to blood.

I woke up feeling muddled and sticky. It was late at night but not yet midnight. I needed some moonlight to clear my head.

Bert and Crystal were curled up on the couch in the den, watching a black-and-white horror
movie on TV. Zach was sitting at the kitchen counter with a peanut butter-and-blood sandwich on a plate beside him. His calculus book was open and his notebook was out, but he was just staring at the pages blankly.

“That looks like it’s going well,” I said, grabbing a soda from the fridge.

“I hate this stuff,” he said. “We’re getting a take-home exam to do over the weekend, and I just know I’m going to fail. It sucks so much—when I was a basketball star, the cheerleaders did my math homework for me.”

“Really?” I said. “Cheerleaders?”

“I didn’t say they did it
right
,” he said with a lopsided grin. Aww, Zach being funny without being slimy. I hadn’t seen that in a while.

I laughed. “Wish I could help,” I said, “but I can barely handle pre-calculus. Those squiggly things of yours are making me nervous from all the way over here.”

“Too bad,” he said, leering. “Doing homework together can be pretty romantic.”

I stuck out my tongue at him and went to find Olympia.

“I don’t think she’s up yet,” Crystal called
when I rapped on the door of Olympia’s office.

I knocked as I opened the door to the basement—although if they were asleep, I knew they wouldn’t be able to hear me. Wilhelm and Olympia give new meaning to “sleep like the dead.” The wooden stairs creaked under my sneakers as I headed down into the dark. I fumbled over my head as I reached the bottom step and tugged on the pull chain, turning on the solitary lightbulb. It barely lit up the damp concrete corners of the room, stuffed with old furniture and piles of boxes. Olympia had bought most of it just to fill up the space. The hope was that if anyone came down here, they’d be too overwhelmed and discouraged by the amount of worthless old stuff to actually poke around and notice anything.

I wove between two faded russet armchairs and climbed over an upside-down paisley purple couch. In the back corner, where it was most shadowy, I opened a big mahogany wardrobe and tapped on the back wall.

After a moment, the “wall” slid back and I jumped down into Wilhelm and Olympia’s crypt. I mean, it’s just a room, but it’s decorated
like a crypt and it feels like a crypt, so that’s what I call it. Two fat black candles flickered gloomily on a low table between the two coffins. I know, I keep telling them it’s really cliché, but that gets Wilhelm all hot and bothered, and then he yells at me about tradition and respect and whatever. Do what you like, but you’re not going to catch
me
sleeping in a place like this.

The walls and floor are gray concrete, but a thick red rug is spread across the floor, so I left my shoes at the entrance before tiptoeing over to Olympia’s coffin. The lid was open, and she was lying faceup with her hands folded over her chest, perfectly still. Her long jet-black hair was spread out in a fan over the white silk lining.

“Olympia,” I whispered.

She opened one eye and peered at me.

“Oh. Kira,” she said. “No need to whisper. He’s awake.”

I turned and looked at Wilhelm’s coffin, but it was empty. “Oh,” I said. “I didn’t see him upstairs.”

“That’s because he’s right there,” Olympia said, nodding at a corner of the ceiling. I squinted and saw a tiny, leathery brown bat
hanging upside down. I used to think bats were spooky, until I acquired a dad who turns into one all the time.

“When do I get to do that?” I asked.

“Most vampires take about three hundred years to evolve that skill,” Olympia said. “Wilhelm is one of the rare few who could do it from the beginning. Some vampires are like that.”

“So there might be some other neat power I can do already, even though I’m not supposed to yet?” I asked. “Like, say…flying?”

“I think we’d have noticed if you could fly,” Olympia said dryly. “Can I help you with something?”

“You’re on good terms with the principal, right?” I asked. She’d made a friendly donation to the school when we first arrived, so the principal tended to take her calls. “Do you think you could get him to switch one of my classes?”

Olympia looked skeptical. “I’ve told you before, Kira, physics is going to be very useful to you one day.”

Yeah, right
.

“It’s not that,” I said. “I want to switch from
band to art. I hardly think they’ll miss my mad triangle skills.”

“Art?” Olympia echoed.

“It’s for my investigation,” I said importantly. Which was true. Getting myself into one of Milo’s classes would totally be useful for solving this mystery. It was not just an excuse to spend more time with him—no, sir.

I couldn’t do much about the fact that I had no classes with Rowan, since he was a senior like Zach and Tex. But Milo was a junior, like me, and I’d memorized his schedule when I found it conveniently sticking out of his backpack while he paid for the ice cream. Jumping into his fourth period art class seemed like the easiest thing to do. It meant giving up one class with Daniel, but hey, he’d still have me for all the others.

“Hmmm,” Olympia said. “All right, I’ll call Principal Lovato in the morning and see what I can do.”

“Don’t change the rest of my schedule,” I said. “Just band to art, fourth period. Make sure it’s Mrs. Malone’s class.”

“I hope this isn’t another boy thing,” Olympia
said, closing her eyes with a sigh.

Well, that was unfair. I’d only had
one
boy thing, and okay, it didn’t turn out well, but I thought I deserved a second chance. Besides, if she’d met this boy, she’d understand.

I padded back to the entrance, but as I slid the door aside, Olympia said, “What’s happening with that Rowan boy? Did you find out anything about him?”

“I’m working on it,” I said. “He’s not exactly the most communicative soul.”

“Keep trying,” she said. “I have a feeling about that one.”

“All right,” I said, climbing out into the wardrobe. As I clambered out of the basement, I realized there was one more question I should have asked.

Namely: Was this a good feeling or a bad feeling? A
Hey, fellow vampire!
feeling?

Or a
That one might kill us all in our sleep
feeling?

T
he next day was Friday, which I love just as much now that I’m a vampire as I did when I was human. I take advantage of the weekends to sleep all day. At least, I do when I’m not in the middle of a murder investigation and, apparently (much to my surprise), dating three boys at once.

It started with Daniel, Friday morning. He was already at his desk when I got to history class, and from the moment I walked in the room I could feel him watching me. I mean, he didn’t take his eyes off me as I came down the row to my desk, and I wasn’t even wearing anything special—just jeans and a sunny yellow off-the-shoulder shirt and ankle boots. And sunflower earrings. And maybe a couple of tiny yellow butterfly clips in my hair. All right, I might have
been feeling a little cheerful when I got dressed. Sure, I had been accused of murder by my family and was wrapped up in a bizarre investigation, but there were such
cute
boys involved. Hey, I try to look on the bright side.

Plus I thought Milo would appreciate the look…and judging from the expression on his face, Daniel did, too.

“Morning,” I said, sitting down.

“It is now,” he said, and then paused, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “I mean—oops. I thought you were going to say ‘good morning.’”

“Well, that’s what I meant,” I said with a smile.

“What are you doing this weekend?” he asked.

Solving a murder, I hope. Maybe breaking into Tex’s house. Seducing Rowan and Milo to see if they turn into vampires. And so on
.

“Oh, nothin’,” I said.

He flipped a pencil between his fingers. “Any chance you’d be interested in dinner tomorrow night?”

I smiled. “I should play hard to get and tell
you I have plans, shouldn’t I?”

“Too late,” he pointed out. “How about I pick you up at nine?”

Ooo, a late dinner—after dark. That was thoughtful…or perhaps necessary for him, too.

“Okay, you charmed me into it,” I said. I scribbled my address on a scrap of paper and passed it to him. “Should I dress up?”

“Always,” he said with his slow smile.

Then Mr. Wright rapped on his desk, and we had to pay attention to history for the rest of the period. So it wasn’t until we were walking down the hall to physics that I was able to say, “By the way, I won’t be in band today. I’m afraid you’ll have to percuss without me.”

“What an unfortunate loss,” he said. “Why is that?”

“Well, actually I’m switching out of the class,” I said, showing him the note I’d picked up from the principal that morning. “I decided I could express myself better with paint than with a pair of cymbals.”

Daniel examined the note, looking strangely
concerned. “You’re leaving the class completely?” he said, like he couldn’t believe it.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve never liked it.” This was true. Musical instruments and I were obviously not intended for each other.

“I’ll miss you,” he said, handing the note back to me.

“Only for fifty minutes,” I said. “Then you’ll have me back for English.”

He nodded, but his smile looked a little forced. “I have bad news, too. I’m afraid I’m going to be busy during lunch today,” he said.

“That’s okay,” I said. “I promised a friend I’d eat with him anyway, so it works out.”

Now he looked even
more
disgruntled. Poor Daniel. He acted all mysterious and suave, but maybe he really liked me more than he wanted to let on. After third period, before he went off to do whatever he was “busy” doing during lunch, I tried to make him feel better by touching his arm (well, it sure made
me
feel better) and then leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. To my surprise, he caught my wrist as I stepped back.

“Kira,” he said in this quiet, intense voice. He pulled me into a doorway, out of the stream of students pouring down the hall. “Be…” He paused.

“Be what?” I said.

He laughed ruefully. “I don’t know whether to tell you to be good or be careful.”

“Daniel, you loon,” I said. “I’m just having lunch with a friend. I think we’ll all survive.”

“I know,” he said. “Don’t mind me. I just worry sometimes.”

“Well, don’t worry about me,” I said, squeezing his hand. “I can take care of myself.” I turned to go, but he caught my hand again and pulled me back. Before I knew what was happening, he put his hands on either side of my face and kissed me.

His lips were soft and cool and serious, like his scent. I barely had time to close my eyes before he broke away and disappeared into the crowd.

I stood there for a moment, feeling strange thrills in my fingertips and toes.
Well, that was sudden
. A real kiss—not the slobbery grope-fest I’d always gotten from Zach. This one was
elegant and meaningful, as if the kiss was the main attraction, if that makes sense. With Zach, kissing always seemed like a burdensome truck stop en route to more grabby things. Daniel’s kiss was more like my first boyfriend’s, although Daniel clearly had a much better idea of what he was doing.

So does that mean we’re dating? Doesn’t the first kiss usually come
after
the first date? Or does sneaking out of school at night after poking around a murder scene somehow count as a date and nobody told me?

On the other hand, I had dodged a bullet there. If Rowan or Milo had seen him kiss me, it would have been much harder to get close to them. I needed to be careful not to get my guys crossed, at least while they were all still suspects.

Luckily Milo had to eat lunch with the swim team, as he’d informed me yesterday—although he’d made sure to add that if I wanted him to quit the swim team so we could share sandwiches, he’d do it in a heartbeat. I laughed and told him a sacrifice of that magnitude wasn’t necessary.

Now the trick was finding Rowan. I had a
hunch he probably ate by himself, and probably not in the cafeteria, although I checked there first, just in case. The usual swirl of noise and mayhem—that many hearts beating so fast in one place is a little much for a vampire to handle. Vivi and I usually ate in the theater, where the drama kids congregate. Vivi is one of the regular stars of the school plays, so she’s allowed to bring in whomever she wants, even poor, desperately undramatic me.

So I knew Rowan wouldn’t be there, because I’d never seen him there before. Nor was he in the cafeteria or the courtyard (where Milo was sitting at the same table with his swimming friends). I wandered up to the library and peeked into the gym—no luck. Finally, I checked the stairwells. Which turned out to be the right instinct.

Rowan was hunched on the bottom step of the school’s back stairwell, the only one that leads down to the basement. I wouldn’t have gone all the way down to check, but when I leaned over and peered down the center well, I spotted his backpack leaning against the railing, way at the bottom.

He heard my boots clopping down the stairs toward him and jumped to his feet with a startled expression.

“Sorry, it’s just me,” I said, holding up my hands. “Kira—remember?”

“Oh,” he said, still looking fairly spooked. He sat down again, crumpling his brown bag between his hands.

“I thought I saw you disappear down here,” I lied. “Can I join you? What a cool place to get away from everyone.” That was a lie, too. The little space at the bottom of the stairwell was dark and pretty dreary. The solid gray door in front of us was labeled BASEMENT. On the plus side (if you’re a vampire), absolutely no sun filtered down from the windows on the next level up. The only light was a flickering fluorescent above the basement door, which was sort of unfortunate in terms of me trying to be all cute and attractive. That’s a lot harder to do when the light is turning you a washed-out, ghostly mint-green, but I didn’t have much choice.

“Yeah, okay,” Rowan said, waving his long pale hand at the step beside him.

“How’s it going?” I said, sitting down and pulling out my lunch. I peeked sideways at his to see if it was at all suspicious, but it looked like a normal ham sandwich on white bread.

“Fine,” he said. It’s conversations like these that made me realize why Rowan didn’t have girls flocking after him, despite his cool eyes and the tall-brooding-handsome thing.

“Have you ever been in there?” I asked, nodding at the basement door.

He squinted at it for a moment, then rummaged in his bag and pulled out a digital camera. “Yeah,” he said, thumbing it on. “I took some shots. Dark and dusty.” He scrolled quickly through the images and then handed the camera to me.

The photo on the screen was a close-up of large pipes and the side of a furnace. “Oooh,” I said, trying to sound admiring. “How…artistic.” I hit the arrow to move to the next shot. More pipes. “Can I look at the rest?” Maybe there was a clue in here.

“Sure,” he said, taking another bite of his sandwich. As I scrolled through the images, I could tell he was looking surreptitiously at my
shoulders. Or possibly my neck. Hmmmm.

Pipes. Pipes. Big pipes. Small pipes. Extremely dusty pipes. A door.

“Are there any other doors to the basement?” I asked.

“Just from the outside,” Rowan said. “They always forget to lock it.”

Hmmmmm
. “Good tip,” I said with a smile.

The basement photos ended and I came to one of the horizon at dawn, with the moon still glimmering in the sky. Dark tree branches crisscrossed the sky.

“That’s pretty cool,” I said.

He nodded. “I don’t sleep well. Sometimes I sneak out while my parents are asleep and go for walks really early in the morning.”

How early? Midnight early? Vampire early?

I moved to the next photo. The silhouette of the school against the pale orange sky. I hit the arrow key again and gasped.

The image on the screen in front of me…was Tex’s dead body.