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.
Chapter 10 Picture Perfect
The 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.
You must be Raven, he said. Aunt Libby`s ears perked up and she swung around.
Devon! my aunt called, returning the animal to the toddler.
Devon was a dashing older gentleman with graying hair and a square jawline. He had piercing eyes and wore designer jeans, Bjorn sandals, a linen sport coat, and a gold earring. He appeared lean and fit, like he spent most of his days jogging to Wild Oats.