Stake That (15 page)

“There’s nothing wrong with him. Nothing except for the fact that he’s an evil vampire and I don’t want him to kill you.”

There. I said it. Let her deal with reality for once. I’m sick of sheltering her from the truth and looking like an idiot. Then again, in hindsight, telling one’s mother that she’s dat-ing an evil vampire is probably not the best way to keep from looking idiotic.

Mom stares at me, her eyes narrowing and her lips pressed together tightly. She pauses for a moment and then speaks slowly and deliberately. “So you’re trying to tell me that I shouldn’t date David because he’s a vampire.”

“An evil vampire. If he was one of the good guys, I’d have no issue with it. In fact, I think it’d be kind of cool.”

Realization lights on Mom’s face. “Is that what you two were doing the other night with the garlic and the rosary beads?” she asks in a tight voice.

“Well, yes. Actually it was. It was a test. And he failed. Or passed—however you want to look at it. Bottom line, he
is
a vampire, Mom. And I don’t think it’s wise for you to be dat-ing him because—”

“Rayne, this has gone far enough,” Mom interrupts. “You obviously need help. I’m sending you back to Dr. Devlin. In fact, I’m going to see if he has any last-minute openings for tomorrow.” She turns and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

I slump back into my bed, tears of frustration springing to my eyes. Great. Just great. Now, in addition to Mom risking her life with Vamp Nerd, I’m going to be sent back to Dr. Devlin, psycho psychiatrist. Let this be a lesson to all of you. No matter what happens, never tell your mom she’s dating an evil vampire. It’s just not worth it.

DIARY ENTRY, TUESDAY, JUNE 12, 8 P.M.

I <3 Jareth and I Don’t Care What U Think!

Wow. So much has happened since I last wrote. Where to begin? I doubt I can write this as one big diary entry—
it’d take me a week to type. I guess I can split it up into chapters. Not like anyone’s
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

reading this any-more. Sigh. I kind of miss my blog. It feels lonely writ-ing to myself… .

Luckily Dr. Devlin is booked up for about a month so I don’t have to waste the evening talking to him about the symbolism of my dreams or whatever. After detention I go straight home and go straight to my room, yelling down that I’m not interested in any dinner before slamming my and blasting Snow Patrol from my stereo.

I turn off the light and lie on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. When Sunny and I were little we pasted glow-in-the-dark stars up there and there are still a few left, struggling to glow in their old age. It’s kind of comforting to look at them. To remember a more innocent time.

I let my mind wander over the past week. The excitement of Dad coming. The disappointment of Dad not coming. The fight with Mike Stevens. The fight with Mom. The finding out that I have a destiny. The finding out that I have to share that destiny with a vampire who hates me. The realization that the vampire maybe isn’t so bad.

I wonder where Jareth is. I haven’t seen him since Wednes-day night. He told me he’d call me when the results of the donor’s blood came back from the lab, but it’s already Tuesday and I haven’t heard from him. Maybe he decided he’d be better off working alone. That he didn’t need me. The thought brings on the tears again. Jeez. I feel like I’ve cried more in the last three days than I have the rest of my life combined.

I’m such an idiot. To think Jareth might actually like me. That he might have been jealous when he saw me dancing with that other vamp. That he might have made up that ex-cuse to kiss me in the broom closet just so he could do it. That there might be some kind of future with him. Dumb, Rayne. Truly dumb.

Of course he doesn’t want a future with me. What do I have to offer? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. My own father isn’tinterested in a future with me. Why should Jareth be?

Bleh.

I force myself to zone out to Snow Patrol, concentrating onthe deep, melodious sounds and trying to block out the overwhelming sadness that’s threatening to take me. A few minutes later I’m so into the music that I almost don’t hear the knock on my door.

“Rayne?”

Mom. Great. I wonder if she’s here to yell or to attempt comfort. I wonder which would be more annoying.

“Go away!” I cry, my voice sounding a bit wobbly. I hope she can’t tell I’ve been crying. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction.

“That’s really nice, Rayne, thanks,” she retorts. “And I’ll be happy to. I just thought you might like to know there’s a boy here to see you.”

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

I raise my head and look over at the closed bedroom door, Aboy? What boy would visit me? “Who is it?” I ask, against my better judgment.

“I’ve never seen him before,” Mom says. “He says his name is Jareth. Tall, skinny. A bit on the pasty side? Dressed all in black, just how you like ‘em,” she adds, and I can hear a small smile in her voice.

“Just hope he’s not an evil vampire.”

I wince a bit at the dig, but know she’s doing her best to try to lighten things up between us. “Nah, he’s not,” I say with all the false bravado I can muster. “He’s one of the good guys.” Mom laughs. “So I should send him up then?” she asks and I can hear the relief in her voice after what she thinks is my attempt at humor.

But no time for analyzing. Jareth is here. Here in my house. Soon to be here in my bedroom. Gah! I’m so unpre-pared. I glance around the room, realizing I have clothes strewn everywhere and that I’m wearing plaid flannel pants and a T-shirt.

“Rayne?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I say, frantically grabbing discarded laundry and tossing it in the hamper. I’d normally ask if she could stall him for a moment or two, but I don’t want her asking a thousand-year-old vampire about where he goes to high school.

I shed my clothes faster than Superman in a phone booth, tossing on a black-and-white plaid skirt and a Smiths concert T-shirt, then run over to the mirror.

Ugh. Even with the change of clothes I’m not looking so hot. My eyes are completely bloodshot from crying and my makeup’s all smeared. I run my index finger under my eyes to try to get rid of the excess black. Then I apply more of my bloodred lipstick. Maybe that’ll detract from the eyes. A knock on the door causes my heart to jump in my throat. Why am I so nervous? It’s just Jareth. We’ve been working to-gether for nearly a week now. It’s all business. And that one kiss? Well, it didn’t mean anything. So there’s absolutely no reason to freak.

Another knock. This one louder.

“Come in,” I say, rushing back to my computer, as if I’ve been sitting there the whole time. No need for him to know was worth reapplying lip gloss for.

He opens the door and steps over the threshold into my room. I’ve had guys in here before. Mom’s cool with it as long as we keep the door open. But this seems different some-how. More dangerous. And since Jareth doesn’t know the door rule, he shuts it behind him before walking over and sit-ting down on the bed. My bed. Gah! Jareth the hottest vam-pire ever is sitting on MY bed. I wish I had a web cam so I could have recorded the momentous event.

“So the blood test has come back from the lab,” he says, launching right into business. “And it’s positive.” Gulp. Good thing he shut the door. If Mom heard the words “blood test” and “positive” in the same sentence she’d be carting me away to the clinic before I could explain we were talking vampires, not HIV.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

I turn around in my chair to face him. “Positive for … ?”

“Wait a moment.” Jareth studies me with his intense blue eyes. “Have you been crying?” I scowl. Great. I should have kept my back turned. “No. Of course not. I’m not your typical crying type of girl. Now, tell me about the donor’s blood.”

Jareth frowns. “Your eyes look red.”

“Allergies.”

“And your makeup’s smudged.”

“I dig the Mary-Kate Olsen look, what can I say?”

Jareth shakes his head. He’s so not buying any of this. “What’s wrong, Rayne? What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.” He gets up from the bed and walks over to me, kneeling down in front of my chair, his earnest eyes searching my face. I turn my head to look back at the com-puter, mostly because his concerned expression has me this close to bursting into tears again.

“I’m not.”

“Tell me what happened. Did someone hurt you?” He takes my hand in his and squeezes it lightly, his thumb caress-ing my palm. “You can tell me. It’s okay.”

And that, my friends, is the point that the dam breaks and the tears cascade down like Niagara Falls. How embarrassing. How pathetic. I can’t believe I’m so weak. So vulnerable. He’s going to think I’m the biggest loser on the planet. Maybe in the entire universe. If there was any chance he was at all in-terested in me, it’s so gone now. I’m just another whiny, teary-faced human girl. Jareth reaches up and swipes a tear away with his thumb. His touch is cool against my burning cheeks.

“Tell me,” he says in the most gentle voice you could imagine.

“Okay,” I agree, realizing at this point I’ve got nothing to lose. I close my eyes resignedly and try to find my voice. I open my mouth to tell him the story of Mike Stevens, but something completely different comes out. Something I hadn’t meant to share with anyone, let alone him.

“You know how I told you about my dad? How he left us four years ago to go ‘find himself?’ ”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Well, he’s evidently still lost. I thought he was coming home for my birthday. Sunny and I turned seventeen three days ago and he sent us an e-mail saying he was going to come home to celebrate with us.” I swallow hard. “It’s so dumb, but…”

“But what?”

“I was so excited. My dad’s awesome. Or he used to be anyway. And I haven’t seen him in so long. I
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

guess I thought maybe if he came … if he saw us again. Maybe he’d want to … I don’t know …” I laugh bitterly. “Stick around or something. Or at least plan more regular visits. Sounds so stu-pid now that I think about it.”

Jareth shakes his head. “Not stupid at all,” he says. “It makes perfect sense to me.”

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. He never showed. He was supposed to bring the cake, too.” I laugh bitterly.

“We ended up having a birthday party with no cake. Pretty lame, huh?”

“Did he call to tell you why? Did something happen to prevent him from making it?”

“No. I waited up ‘til like one a.m., hoping he’d walk through the door. So idiotic.” My voice breaks again and I’m sobbing like crazy now. Can we say LOSER? “Sunny e-mailed him the next day. Turns out some other thing came up and he says he forgot to tell us.”

“Other thing?”

“Evidently he’s got a new wife. And she has kids. One of them had some school play or something …” I shrug. “Why go hang with the old family, I guess, when you’ve got a whole new one?” Without warning, Jareth grabs me and pulls me into a hug. At first I’m not sure about this, but his arms feel so right, wrapped around me. His hands so good, stroking my back. I give in, burying my head in his shoulder and sobbing my eyes out. Trying to take the strength he is offering me. I’m scared to death at the perfect comfort I receive, but too relieved to pull away.

“I’m so sorry, Raynie,” he whispers, smoothing my hair with his hands. “That’s a lousy thing to do. He doesn’t de-serve you as a daughter.”

“I wish I could just hate him,” I cry, hoping my nose isn’t all running on Jareth’s black shirt. “But I can’t. I still love him. I still miss him. No matter what he does, he’s still my dad.”

“It’s hard when people you love let you down.”

“Sometimes I think that’s why I don’t have any close friends,” I say, now in full-on babble mode. I can’t believe I’m telling him all this. But his arms feel warm and his touch is comforting. I haven’t felt so safe in eons. “I mean, everyone thinks it’s ‘cause I’m some tough punk-rock chick who doesn’t need anyone. But, in reality, I think it’s ‘cause I’m scared to death. That if I get close to someone, they’ll just leave.”

“I know the feeling,” Jareth says, almost thoughtfully. “More than you can know.”

“Oh?” Excitement builds inside me, competing with my sadness. He’s on the verge of spilling the Deep Dark Secret, I can tell.

He pulls his head away. “Some other time,” he says, press-ing his lips against my forehead and giving me a soft kiss.

I stick out my lower lip in a mock pout. “Oh, fine.”

He laughs. “I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

“Don’t worry,” he says, reaching over to my nightstand and grabbing me a tissue. He hands it to me and I wipe my eyes and nose. “Unlike some people, I keep my promises. Al-ways and forever.” He reaches up and brushes a strand of hair out of my eyes and studies my face. “You’re really beautiful,” he says. “You know that?”

I screw up my face. “Yeah, yeah.” But secretly I’m pleased.

“No. I’m serious.” His fingers trail down the side of my face, his nails lightly scraping at my cheekbone. Feels so good. I close my eyes.

And then he kisses me. Yes, the beautiful vampire, the dark general, the one who never gets close to anyone, leans in and presses his lips against mine.

This kiss is different than the one in the closet. This kiss is soft. Gentle. Light. Like a butterfly’s wing whisking my lips. I know it sounds weird, but it’s almost like a worshipful caress. I sigh a bit as tingly sensations burst from my fingers, my toes—all over my body. I kiss him back, hesitantly at first and then with more assurance. Jareth is a master kisser, nothing like the awkward fumbling boys I’ve dated in the past. The ones more interested in the technical workings of my bra. The ones who see the mouth only as an obligatory precursor to getting me to take off my clothes. But Jareth seems content just to kiss me. To explore my mouth with his own. His tongue telling a thousand stories, mine delighting in a thou-sand tastes.