The Coffin Club (11 page)

The girls grinned in agreement.

We sensed someone listening to our conversation. We peered up and the two guys were standing behind us.

―See,‖ I said through a fake smile.

―Do you mind if we sit down?‖ the blond asked.

―Of course not,‖ Scarlet said.

It was then I spotted tousled dark purple hair in the chamber across from us.

―Uh…I‘m feeling dizzy,‖ I admitted, referring to the revolving floor. ―I‘ll be right back.‖

It was my chance to spy on Phoenix. I snuck out into the hall and hid in the shadows next to their lounge.

Phoenix, along with a gang of ominous-looking guys, was hovering around a stone table.

Phoenix was quite popular. When he wasn‘t slinking in the shadows, he was surrounded by club members. ―Jagger doesn‘t know the true meaning of being a vampire,‖ one said.

―It‘s time he steps down,‖ added another.

―And you are just the dude to take over,‖ the first one said to Phoenix.

―Yes,‖ they all said in unison.

―Tomorrow night, then,‖ a voice declared.

―I‘ll meet him at the crop circle. It will be done,‖ Phoenix finished.

I leaned back as far as I could into the shadows as Phoenix left the chamber and the menacing clubsters followed him.

Phoenix was planning a revolt of his own. What would happen if he led the vampire club? Was he the kind of vampire who thought it necessary to lurk among the mortals? If he was planning to meet Jagger in the open, he was surely risking exposure himself.

I felt a vibration in my purse. I pulled out my cell. It was Aunt Libby.

―Raven? Where are you?‖ she asked, her voice concerned. ―I just checked the ghouls room and you weren‘t there.‖

―I took a wrong turn. I‘m a few yards from the dance floor,‖ I said truthfully, only it wasn‘t the same dance floor she was thinking of.

―I‘m done with my reading. She said marriage is in the cards.‖

―I‘ll meet you at the tarot card booth.‖

I hung up. If the tarot card reader had been truly psychic, she would have informed my aunt of my real location. Fortunately her powers were really only good for taking other people‘s money.

I returned to find the girls still immersed in cozy conversation with the martini guys.

―Where did you go?‖ Onyx said.

―I got turned around. Even a ghost could get lost in these tombs.‖ The blond beamed. A tiny drop of blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. Onyx wiped it off with her martini napkin.

―I really have to go.‖

―So soon?‖ Scarlet asked.

―Yes, I have to get back.‖

―You‘ll have to join us tomorrow,‖ Onyx said, entwined with the redheaded guy.

―Yeah, you‘ll have to join us,‖ he repeated.

I set off on my quest to meet Aunt Libby. Once again, I was lost in the tombs. I didn‘t remember which way Onyx, Scarlet, and I had entered or how far we‘d walked. I couldn‘t find the embedded skulls, or the clubsters hanging out in the hallowed graves. And there were dozens of girls in the labyrinth of tunnels with guys hanging from their necks.

I entered an alcove filled with gamers playing Medieval Morticians, another with members having black widow races, and still another playing Spin the Bloody Bottle. All were dead ends.

I was so lost I was ready to scream. I had to get back to Aunt Libby before she got worried and called the cops or, worse, my parents. At the end of one catacomb, I discovered a door. I hoped it led to the outside of the club and I‘d head back through the main entrance. There wasn‘t a knob anywhere to be found. In the darkness, I glided my hand along the unstained wood until I discovered a latch. I squeezed it and slid it open. The door didn‘t exit into an alleyway but rather into someone‘s apartment—a loft with dozens of medieval candelabras. For a moment I paused. Something looked familiar about it, and then I realized I‘d been here before. It was Jagger‘s apartment.

I snuck inside, wondering what insights I might gain this time from the threatening vampire.

The gray metal main door on the opposite side was open overhead. An aquarium, empty of water but filled with rocks and one deadly tarantula, remained near the radiator, as I‘d remembered.

In the far corner of the loft lay a coffin, adorned with gothic band stickers, encircled by dirt.

I noticed a wooden stake caked with mud and grass, a spool of rope, and several long boards—similar to the tools I‘d seen on a TV show about making a homemade crop circle.

I sensed someone lingering at the door behind me. I slowly turned around.

It was Phoenix. His sunglasses cast a shadow on his pale face, making it difficult to see his expression.

―What is it you are looking for?‖ he asked in his thick Romanian accent.

I felt alarmed. I knew I wasn‘t supposed to be nosing around Jagger‘s apartment, or the Dungeon, for that matter. Phoenix appeared to be watching me, always in the background, showing up unexpectedly in a blanket of darkness. My not knowing his motives made him especially intriguing and suspicious.

―You shouldn‘t be snooping around. I can escort you out.‖

―That won‘t be necessary,‖ I heard someone say from the other side of the room. Jagger was standing at the apartment‘s main entrance. ―Raven is an old friend. And I‘ve known her boyfriend for an eternity.‖

Both vampires were blocking the exits—the one that led back to the club and the one that led to a hallway. (I‘d remembered coming down the dimly lit corridor when I first visited Jagger‘s apartment.) The room was windowless and there were no other exits. I had no way to escape.

I didn‘t know which vampire to side with. I wasn‘t fast enough to whisk by them or strong enough to bulldoze through them. Either one could easily tear into my flesh with a single bite.

I did something I never thought I‘d do. I tore off and hid behind Jagger Maxwell.

I chose the company of the nefarious but familiar Jagger to the foreign leather-clad stranger.

―She has such good taste,‖ he said brazenly to Phoenix. And with that Jagger shut the door to his apartment and to Phoenix.

I wasn‘t sure why Jagger was being nice to me. Perhaps he felt he had an obligation to Alexander since he‘d returned his sibling safely to him. But ultimately Jagger was untrustworthy.

It was only a matter of time before Jagger flashed his fangs or verbally threatened me as I followed him down the dimly lit corridor to a freight elevator. But instead of challenging me, Jagger calmly led me through the desolate hallway, without incident, like a knight guarding its queen. I was shocked. He was honoring his truce with Alexander. Apparently their reconciliation was as meaningful to him as it had been to my boyfriend. I was almost disappointed when I got inside the elevator, alone, without having been confronted. I guess I had made the right choice after all. Still standing in the hallway, Jagger began to shut the rickety door. As it creaked closed, something swooped underneath and fluttered so close above my head, I had to duck.

When I recovered, I noticed a bat hanging upside down from the ceiling. Its beady black eyes were looking dead straight at me.

A single bulb illuminated the elevator like a B horror flick. I quickly pressed a button marked ―C.C.‖

Jagger glared back at me with his mismatched mesmerizing eyes. ―I hope you enjoyed your visit. You never know. You may want to join forever,‖ he said with a wicked grin.

The elevator screeched as it slowly ascended from the depths of the Dungeon to club level and then ground to a stop.

I quickly opened the heavy elevator door and spotted the indoor entrance to the Coffin Club. I made my way inside just as the bat flew off overhead.

Safely back at Aunt Libby‘s apartment, I sat up on her futon and scribbled in my journal, the streetlight casting a glow on my comforter. My aunt was fast asleep, but I felt like I‘d just guzzled an extra-tall chocolate toffee latte.

I had so many quandaries buzzing through my mind. I wasn‘t sure why I was pulled toward Phoenix, just as I‘d been to Trevor and Jagger. It wasn‘t the same way I‘d been attracted to Alexander, but Phoenix sparked my curiosity, and I was intrigued to know why he was similarly drawn to me. I was also worried about the situation of the club. If Phoenix took over, what would that mean for my new friends? The girls might have a secure place for all eternity—

safe and free from the possible persecution of mortals. With Jagger in charge, would it mean that Hipsterville would have a known vampire presence? It irked me that Jagger was so power hungry that he would risk the welfare of his own kind. His actions went against everything Alexander believed in. Alexander wanted to blend in the mortal world as mortal, while Jagger wanted to be feared by others—to gain popularity and notoriety. I understood Jagger‘s yearning to be known. It wasn‘t in my nature to remain hidden in the shadows—but there was one big difference—I wasn‘t a vampire. I wasn‘t a danger to anyone. And since I was beginning to immerse myself in a community of vampires—the life I‘d always dreamed of—I had to wonder if this new world was that different from the world I already belonged to. The Dungeon was being pulled in two directions, just like any mortal community. Mortals and immortals might not be that different after all.

But I had to admit, the immortal world was intoxicating to me. It had all the draws of the mortal world, with the edge and darkness that I so desired. Though I couldn‘t completely shake off that dream I‘d had a few nights ago. At this point, I had the best of both worlds. I didn‘t have to make a decision to become anything different from what I already was. Even though it was under false pretenses, I was accepted into the Dungeon as myself. If that changed, I wasn‘t sure the Underworld would be so enticing after all.

All of Hipsterville was asleep except for those clubsters in the Dungeon, dancing and drinking, and one lone vampire, Alexander Sterling. I missed him and hated that I was unable to be by his side throughout his long nights. I hungered for Alexander to hold me safely in the warm night air, underneath the moonlight by tombstones in a far-off cemetery, naive to the troubles of the underground vampires. I dreamed of a time before I knew of the Dungeon, Jagger, or Phoenix.

Wasn‘t it enough just to deal with the trials and tribulations of dating a vampire?

I had one mission when summer break began—to see Alexander. But once again, my curiosity had led me off my path and straight into a labyrinth of danger.

I was learning even more about Alexander‘s complicated world—without him.

10

T
he Hipsterville Art Festival, according to Aunt Libby, was an event showcasing regional artisans dating back to the founding of the town. It was quite a to-do. Five blocks of Main Street, with its quaint boutiques and coffee shops, were cordoned off, allowing patrons and sellers to walk freely in the road without fear of being run over by an old Accord covered with DAVE MATTHEWS, SAVE THE RAIN FOREST, and PETA stickers. Sellers traveled in from neighboring states to peddle their original handcrafted wares. Bright blue and red booths lined the streets, displaying and selling everything from pottery to purses. The early-evening fresh air smelled deliciously of sizzling steak, barbecue, and grilled corn on the cob. Kids enjoyed face painting while adults entered raffles to win prizes from microwaves to a brand-new car.

At the north end of the festival, a jazz band played by a fountain with a statue of the town founder. Elderly and young Hipstervillians alike relaxed in sun chairs, tapping their feet to the lively tunes.

Normally, Aunt Libby was known to be late to every event, dinner, or meeting. Tonight, she was so excited to see her new beau, she was showered, dressed, redressed, and ready to go an hour before our scheduled meeting—at the fountain just after sunset. Not only was I eager to see Alexander, I was going on a double date with adults. Aunt Libby and I anxiously waited by the jazz band for our dates to arrive.

―I can‘t wait for you to meet Alexander,‖ I exclaimed to my aunt.

―Me too,‖ she said, giving me a familial squeeze. ―I‘m looking forward to seeing what you think of Devon. I want your honest opinion. I haven‘t been the greatest judge of character in my life. However, I think this one is a keeper.‖

Aunt Libby kept a rhythmic beat by shaking her hips, her floral sundress flowing and her dangling earrings swinging. If I‘d been standing by my mother, I would have been horrified. But I was excited to see my aunt so free-spirited and happy, and I found myself unexpectedly rocking.

The sun seemed to be still over the bell tower in the distance.

―I wonder if I jumped up and down if it would make the sun set any faster,‖ I said to my aunt.

I scanned the festival crowd, filled with hipsters, granola heads, goths. Couples of all ages, shapes, and sizes were milling about. Children running, holding balloons, or being pushed in strollers were enjoying the fair.

I glanced among the eclectic crowd, imagining Alexander thriving in the sunlight instead of the moonlight. I watched several cozy couples, hand in hand, wishing it could be Alexander and me.

Before I knew it, dusk had overtaken Main Street. The gaslights illuminated the streets like nineteenth-century London. I remarked to Aunt Libby how lucky we were that the rainy days had departed and the clouds had disappeared for the night of the festival.

A handsome man with two cotton candies (one pastel pink, the other baby blue) appeared out of the crowd and approached us. My aunt was helping a toddler reshape his balloon animal and was unaware a man was standing by our side.