My parents were brunching on coffee and cantaloupe while reading the Dullsville Saturday newspaper.
"Valentine is gone," Billy Boy, still in sweats and an oversized T-shirt, ranted to my parents. "He wasn't here when I woke up. He didn't even say good-bye."
"Are you sure?" my mother asked. "Did you check the entire house?"
"I searched everywhere."
My parents looked concerned. "Did you call him at his house?"
"I don't have the number," Billy Boy replied.
They don't have a phone in the bat cave? I wanted to say.
"Maybe we should drive by his house," my dad offered.
"He said he was staying with his aunt, but I don't know where she lives," my brother confessed.
I had to put a stop to this before my parents involved the police, the PTA, and Dullsville's mayor.
"Why is there so much commotion?" I chimed in. "I saw Valentine get picked up last night after everyone went to sleep. I guess he was homesick. I thought you all knew."
"He didn't tell me--," Billy Boy said.
"Duh--he obviously was too embarrassed. He wants to impress you, not look like a fool."
"In elementary school," my mother began, "I had a friend who frequently came over with her sleeping bag, but always left by ten- thirty." Billy Boy shrugged and said, "Maybe you're right." He grabbed a cup of juice and headed upstairs. I followed him to his room and stood outside the doorway.
"What were you doing on the computer last night?" I asked.
"What's it to you?"
"Don't be annoying. Hey, if it wasn't for me, you'd be searching the crawl space for your friend."
Billy Boy rolled his eyes, then sighed. "Okay. We were looking for tombstones."
"That sounds like something I'd do."
"Well, maybe we are more alike than you think."
I checked out my brother, who was sporting a Chess Club T- shirt. "That'll be the day. Why were you searching for tombstones?"
Billy pulled something out of his desk drawer. "Valentine had these," he said, revealing a weathered piece of paper.
Billy Boy showed me a cryptic gravestone etching-- just like the ones Jagger used as grim artwork to decorate his hideouts.
"Valentine said these were his ancestors," Billy Boy continued. "These two are from Romania. We were searching for the last one when you burst in. Now I can't find it."
"Let me see them."
"No, I need to return these to Valentine when I see him again."
"When do you plan on meeting him?"
"None of your business."
"It is my business unless you want to find someone else to protect you from bats hanging on your windowsill," I threatened. Billy Boy appeared aghast, recalling the wiry creature dangling just outside his bedroom.
"Monday at Oakley Park's fountain. After dinner."
"Let me see the etching!"
"No."
"Pretty please, with bat wings on top?"
"We're going to put it with our vampire project." Billy Boy slammed the door before I could wedge my foot in. Then he bolted the door. Not only was Valentine becoming more brazen, so was my nerdy brother.
I opened my eyes to eternal darkness in Alexander's coffin. I'd been sound asleep for what seemed like centuries next to my vampire- mate. I could hear gentle breathing next to me. I stretched out my arms and hit the lid of the closed coffin. I wasn't entwined in Alexander's arms, but rather pressed against his back.
Unaware of the time, I gently nudged my sleeping vampire. I wanted to know how much longer we'd be entombed.
I heard my boyfriend stir.
"Alexander?"
I could feel his body turn over. His hand gently rested against my neck.
"Reading my thoughts?" I asked. "Hmm...I bet you can't guess what I'm thinking," I teased coyly.
Alexander didn't remove his hand. Instead he pressed harder. My heart rate quickened. I became dizzy. I felt claustrophobic, like the already close coffin walls were closing in on us.
"Alexander--"
His hand only gripped me harder.
Then I realized, it wasn't Alexander's hand holding my neck. "Valentine," I cried. "Get off!"
I desperately reached for the coffin lid. I pushed and banged, but the lid must have been locked. I scrambled, clawing my nails into the wooden lid.
I called out again, "Alexander!" But there was no answer.
I tried breathing slowly, but that only made me gasp for air. I pounded on the coffin lid. I wedged my boots against the lid and pressed against it with all my might.
"Let me out!" I tried to say, but no words escaped me.
The lid flew open.
I squinted my eyes, trying to adjust to the light.
I wasn't prepared for what I saw--Valentine was standing above me next to the casket, a candelabra glowing behind him.
If Valentine was standing outside the coffin--who had been in the coffin with me?
Slowly, I turned back.
Billy Boy was resting on his arm. He grinned, flashing his newly formed fangs.
"No!" I cried. "Not my brother!"
I woke up with a scream to find myself crashed out on our family-room couch. House of Dracula was playing on the TV. The cable box flashed its green neon light. The clock read later than I thought--the moon was on the rise.
As the sun began to set, streaks of purples and pinks hung across the sky, forming a magical sunset. I arrived at the Mansion, ran up the winding driveway and the cracked, uneven Mansion steps, then rapped on the door with the heavy serpent-shaped door knocker.
No one responded. I rapped on the door again.
Finally the door slowly creaked open. Standing to one side, Jameson, in his black butler's uniform, greeted me with a skinny- toothed smile.
"Hello, Miss Raven. I'm afraid Alexander is not ready for company."
"I know, but I have to see him as soon as he's ready. Can I wait inside?"
"Of course. Come in. You may wait in the drawing room," the creepy man said, and pointed to the room where I had awaited Alexander for our first dinner together. The room appeared the same, with an antique European desk, dusty ancient scarlet velvet upholstered chairs, and a baby grand piano in the corner. "Did you know that originally parlor rooms were for the family to view the deceased?" he said as only a creepy man could.
"Interesting," I said as I stepped into the room and imagined what corpses might have been hanging out in here.
"Can I get you something to drink while you wait?" the butler asked me.