After an arduous day of quizzes, homework hand-ins, and boring lectures, eighth bell rang. I met Becky by our lockers and, after Matt gave her a quick peck before soccer practice, we were off to her house for a prom fashion show.

Becky resided on what many of the snotty Dullsvillians called the "wrong side of the tracks." I, however, thought she had primo real estate. Becky's backyard was twice the size of Trevor's and sported sweet apple trees instead of unused Jacuzzis.

Her farmhouse, built in the 1930s, was the original house her father grew up in. In back of the house, next to the five-acre apple orchard, stood a monstrous silo with vines clinging to it like a giant spiderweb. Adjacent to that sat a red barn filled with tools and a loft suitable for telling ghost stories.

Becky's house was also steeped in character, something lacking in many of the "right side of the trackers'" houses, including mine. The wooden house was pale yellow with hunter green shutters. It had screen doors and a stellar wraparound porch with an old-fashioned porch swing. Though some of the appliances had been updated, the original yellow flowered wallpaper from her father's youth remained. A round vinyl booth instead of the typical dinette table and chairs was sandwiched in a kitchen alcove. Black-and-white tiles lined the upstairs bathroom walls and floors. Glass doorknobs glistened on all the doors, instead of brass or pewter ones, and hardwood floors ran throughout the first floor.

We walked up the squeaky wooden staircase to her bedroom. One wall was slanted, making it feel as if her movie star posters were going to reach out and kiss you.

Becky pulled out a wedge that kept her closet door shut. Depending on the weather, the door buckled and wouldn't remain closed, which provided hours of fun for us when we were kids, imagining her room was haunted. She took out a garment bag, unzipping it to reveal a vintage floor-length blue strapless gown. "It's gorgeous!" I exclaimed.

I searched through Becky's jewelry box while she tried on her dress.

My best friend had transformed into a princess right in front of my eyes. "You look beautiful. Matt is going to drop dead when he sees you."

"You think?"

"I know," I corrected.

"Should I wear my hair up in a twist?" she asked, pulling her layered locks off her neck.

"I don't know much about hair," I said. "If it were me, I'd streak it blue to match the dress. But I think the way you have it up looks fabulous."

For the next hour we finalized her jewelry selection (faux pearl earrings and matching necklace) and shades of makeup (coral blush, passion pink lipstick with matching gloss, and indigo blue eye shadow).

Becky and I were starving, so on the drive to my home, we stopped off at Hatsy's Diner, where we stuffed our faces with cheese fries and Vanilla Cokes and talked nonstop about our heartthrobs. Since my best friend and I had acquired boyfriends, we hadn't had the time to be as glued to each other as we had been in the past. Now that we had recharged our batteries, we got in some major girl time and gossiped for hours. She finally dropped me off after sunset.

I opened the front door to find the first floor empty of family members and the phone ringing.

"I'll get it," I hollered.

I dropped my backpack on the kitchen counter and picked up the phone. "Hello?" "Raven," Alexander said from the other end. My name rolled off his tongue like smooth chocolate dairy soft serve being licked off a spoon. "How was your day?"

"Same as every day--dreadful until sunset," I replied.

The only thing that kept me going through the day was knowing that atop Benson Hill was the most handsome guy I'd ever seen, my very own vampire-mate, sleeping in a coffin in the dusty attic of a creepy old mansion.

"Should I meet you at the Mansion or are you going to pick me up?" I asked eagerly.

There was silence on Alexander's end.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I hate to do this to you...," he said, his voice suddenly serious, "but I have to cancel tonight."

"Cancel?" It hit me like a closing coffin lid. "What's wrong?"

"Jameson has the car...and I want to check out the cave and cemetery for Valentine."

"I can ask my mom to drop me off instead."

"I want to do it alone," Alexander said in a grave tone.

"Alone?"

Alexander didn't respond. I knew he didn't want to put me in harm's way again, but that didn't mean I had to like it.

Not only would I be missing a nocturnal adventure, I'd be missing precious time with Alexander. It was bad enough I had to be away from Alexander in the sunlight; I couldn't face being away from him in the moonlight, too. "I'll make it up to you," he said in a bright voice. "I still haven't given you the surprise I was going to give you at the cave."

For the next five minutes I tried whining, protesting, and attempting my tried-and-true manipulation tactics, but nothing worked. Alexander put his foot down, before he put the phone down.

Then I tried arguing with my mother, but she wouldn't let me borrow the car. I figured if I used Billy Boy's bike, which had thicker tires than mine, I could meet Alexander at the cemetery before he started for the cave.

I knocked on my brother's door.

"Go away!" I heard my annoying brother say.

"I need to ask you for a favor," I said sweetly.

"I'm busy!"

I slowly cracked open the door. My brother's normally bright room was dark, except for a single desk lamp gently illuminating the room. He was sitting at his computer desk typing away on his keyboard with one hand and holding a gravestone etching in the other. To my surprise, there was someone sitting in a chair next to him--and it wasn't Henry.

I froze. Seated next to Billy Boy was a slightly smaller boy with powder white hair.

I gasped.

As if in slow motion, the vampire boy turned to me.

Two glassy green eyes stared through me.

Valentine looked like he'd been dead for more years than he'd been alive. He had a sullen, cadaverous, and almost handsome ghost white complexion, with soft bloodred lips. His long white shaggy hair hung over his face. He exuded an inner strength and, at the same time, a hint of frailty. Though he was only three-fourths my size and seemed like he could blow over with a gentle breeze, something told me he had the power to withstand the force of a storm.

"What are you doing in here?" my brother asked, rising.

"I didn't invite you in."

"I need to speak with you," I said sternly in a low voice.

Valentine's eyes bored through me. Chills ran down my spine like tiny jabbing icicles.

"Get out. I have company," my brother ordered.

Billy Boy charged toward me. He braced the door with his skinny arms and tried to close it. I stopped it with my combat boot.

"What is he doing here?" I whispered.

"He's spending the night."

My heart skidded to a stop. Spending the night? My brother obviously didn't realize who--or what--he'd invited to share his bedroom.

"He can't stay here," I warned softly.

"I don't tell you when Becky can come over. Since when did you become my mother?"

"Where's Henry?" I asked, stalling. "Shouldn't you have invited him, too?"

"He's staying at his grandmother's."

I glanced back at Valentine, whose green eyes glistened at me hypnotically. He licked his lips, and the light of the desk lamp shined on a small fang. Like a million strobe lights going off in my head, I realized why Valentine must have come to Dullsville. Jagger and Luna weren't seeking revenge on Alexander anymore--they were seeking revenge on me by threatening my family. And they were sending Valentine to do their bloody work.

"Quit nosing around," Billy Boy said.

"But--"

"Get a life!" he yelled as only a little brother could, and slammed the door in my face.

Billy Boy didn't know Valentine was trying to get a life, too-- his.

I paced in my bedroom, my combat boots slamming against the black-carpeted floor, while holding my hissing kitten, who was clearly uptight about our new neighbor.

I had to come up with a plan. Alexander was miles away and I wasn't even certain of his location. Unfortunately he never carried a cell phone. I wouldn't be able to inform him that the very person he was searching for was right here underneath my very own roof.

I took a deep breath. I tried to rack my brain for a strategy. I couldn't leave the house with a vengeful vampire in my brother's bedroom. However, my parents would think I had inhaled glue if I ran downstairs and calmly explained to them that Billy Boy had mistakenly invited over a bloodthirsty descendant of Dracula instead of a new-to-town tween in need of a friend.

I'd have to face this problem head-on. I found my mother in the kitchen placing a plastic tablecloth over our dinette table. "Mom, we need to talk. That friend of Billy Boy's--he can't stay."

"Why not?"

"Word on the street is he's trouble."

"Thank you for your concern, but I'm not worried about an eleven-year-old boy."

"We barely know this kid. He's a stranger."

"What's there to know? He seems delightful and very charming. I think it's good for Billy to widen his circle of friends. He's coming out of his shell."

Billy Boy would be coming out of more than just a shell if Valentine stayed. He could be coming out of a coffin.

"Do you mind setting the table?" she asked as she filled a plastic cup with ice from the door of the fridge.

I grabbed plastic silverware and paper plates from our pantry.

This game wasn't over. I wasn't ready to fold. I had no choice. I had to show my cards.

The ice maker roared thunderously as my mom filled another cup with ice. I put my hand on the granite countertop and leaned in to my mother. "Valentine thinks he is a vampire."

"What?" she asked, placing the cup on the countertop and beginning to fill another.

"Valentine thinks he's a vampire," I said louder.

"I can't hear you." I placed my hand over the cup. A few cubes bounced off my knuckles and flew to the floor.

"Valentine has to leave. He thinks he's a vampire," I repeated.

My mom paused. Then she laughed, picked up the fallen cubes, and threw them into the sink.

"Then he should be friends with you, not Billy," she remarked playfully.

"I'm serious."

"Serious?" she asked. "Am I talking to the same person I raised, who at five years old wore a black cape around the house because you were imitating Count Dracula? Who at nine insisted on drinking only raspberry Kool-Aid because you thought it resembled blood? And who, just a few days ago, bought a prom dress that resembles a vampire's bridal outfit?"

My mouth dropped open. Touch�. My mother's straight flush beat my full house.

"I think it's wonderful that Billy Boy is accepting someone who is different from himself," she continued. "Someone who reminds him of his sister. I'd think you would be flattered."

The doorbell rang.

My mom grabbed a twenty lying on the kitchen counter, and I followed her to the front door. "The pizzas are here!" she called upstairs.

Billy Boy raced down the stairs, Valentine slowly trailing after him like a ghostly shadow.

Valentine stood on the stairs, his black painted fingernails tapping against the wooden banister. He was intently fixated on me, grinning like a gothic Dennis the Menace. I glared back at the four- foot ten-inch vampire as Billy grabbed the pizzas and my mother paid the delivery woman.

Valentine deliberately brushed by me, sending an icy chill through my body as the two boys flew into the kitchen.

I grabbed a soda from the table and sat down next to my brother.

Billy Boy shot me an odd look. "What are you doing here? Don't you have a hot date?"

"If I did, I wouldn't tell you."

The boys each grabbed a slice of pizza, scarfing it down before it had time to hit their paper plates.

I rose and opened the refrigerator door. "Want some garlic with that?" I asked Valentine, holding up a clove.

It was as if all the blood had drained from Valentine's already pale face. He laid the crust on his plate and sat back in his chair. "Uh...no, thank you. I'm deathly allergic to garlic."

"Really? So is Raven's boyfriend," my mother said. "Raven, put that back!"

Reluctantly I returned the clove to the crisper and washed my hands in the kitchen sink.

Valentine glared at me as his morosely ashen complexion turned back to ghostly white.

"Here, take another slice," my mom said, kindly handing Valentine more pizza. He returned to wolfing down his dinner like he hadn't eaten in centuries.

Valentine wiped his tomato-sauce-stained mouth with a napkin and guzzled a soda just like any mortal his age. It was odd to see a boy so young have the potential to be so dangerous. My eyes were glued to him, making sure all he bit into was the pizza.

"Are you visiting or did you move here?" my mom asked.

"Visiting. But I really like this town," he said, looking straight at me.

"Who are you visiting?"

"Uh...my aunt, but you wouldn't know her."

"In this town? We know everyone."

"Yes, who is she?" I questioned. "I'd love to meet her."

Valentine paused.

"Let us eat," Billy Boy said. "We're hungry."

"You're right, go ahead," my mother said in an apologetic voice.

The boys continued to shovel in their pizza while I observed their every bite. For once in my life, I was the one gawking.

"You are creeping me out," my brother finally said, scooting away from me.

"Raven, let's go in the other room," my mother instructed.

"But--"

She grabbed our plates of half-eaten pizza and we sat in the dining room. All the while I spied on Valentine, keeping my peripheral vision set on the pizza-partying vampire.

I hated that Billy Boy no longer wanted the Madison women hovering around him. He should have listened to me about Valentine. He was beginning to remind me of someone who didn't take orders, someone I knew very well--me. Later that evening, while Mom and Dad were downstairs watching TV, I made believe I was folding towels in the hall closet while Valentine brushed his teeth.

The door finally opened and Valentine emerged. He was smiling, his green eyes sparkling, seemingly relaxed in his new environment, until he spotted me in the hallway. Then he glared up at me.

"Did you make sure to floss between your fangs?" I whispered.

"Go ahead, tell your parents," he challenged. "I'll tell them about Alexander," he whispered back, then disappeared into my brother's room.

I stepped into the bathroom. Mom's makeup mirror was facing the wall, and a lavender bath towel was haphazardly placed over the sink mirror.

I could hear my mother whistling as she ascended the stairs.

I quickly retrieved the towel and threw it into the wicker hamper.

"Lights out, boys," my mom ordered, holding a handful of catalogs.

"No, leave the lights on!" I shouted, running into my brother's room. I was hoping an illuminated bedroom would keep Valentine at a safe distance from my brother.

The two boys looked at me strangely.

"The other night, Billy Boy thought he saw a bat," I explained. "I want him to get a good night's rest."

My brother's nerdy white face turned bloodred. I almost felt sorry I'd embarrassed him in front of his friend. "Mom, get her out!" he yelled.

My mom shooed me out of the room with her catalog collection and closed the door behind her.

I paced in my room, wondering what Valentine was going to do all night. He obviously wasn't going to sleep. I feared at any moment he might sink his fangs into my brother.

I had no choice. Valentine couldn't sleep here, especially when I knew he wouldn't be sleeping. I didn't have much time; Billy Boy would soon be defenseless. When my brother was a baby, he wailed throughout the night. Now that he was older, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

I raced to my dresser drawer and stuck my container of garlic in the waistband of my skirt.

I crept over to Billy Boy's room. I took a deep breath and cracked his door open.

I wasn't prepared for what I saw. Valentine, his eyes closed as if in a trance, was standing over my sleeping brother, his palm resting on my brother's neck!

"What are you doing?" I said sharply.

Valentine, startled, quickly pulled his hand away.

I gasped. "It was you in the cave," I managed to say.

Valentine remained in place, his fists now clenched.

"I know what you're thinking...," he said in a challenging voice. "I know all about you."

I was confused. "Know what about me? From Jagger and Luna? You can't trust what they say..."

He inched forward. "You are afraid." "Of you?"

He snickered. "Of Alexander."

I folded my arms skeptically. "I love Alexander."

Then Valentine turned deadly serious. "You are afraid of becoming a vampire," he said.

I froze.

"Jagger and Luna didn't have to tell me," he continued. "I learned that from you."

"I don't know what you mean."

Valentine didn't seem to be threatened by my sleeping brother.

"In the cave," he continued. "Alexander wasn't going to bite you. But you thought he was--and you freaked out."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Then Valentine drew closer, his green eyes locking on to mine in a strange hypnotic stare. "You'd imagined an elaborate and gloomy gothic covenant ceremony in the cemetery, underneath the moonlight, an antique candelabra and a pewter goblet atop a closed coffin."

I stood frozen as the boyish Nosferatu continued to recite the very thoughts and feelings I had had last night at the cave. "You expected to be holding a bouquet of dead roses and wearing a morbidly black sexy lace dress, which would flow behind you as you walked between the tombstones."

How did Valentine know what I had imagined? I could barely breathe as Valentine took another step toward me. I hadn't told anyone about my dream covenant. Valentine and Billy Boy must have rummaged through my journal-- only I didn't even remember writing about my fantasy gothic underworld wedding. "When you thought Alexander was ready to turn you, your blood ran cold," Valentine charged.

A chill ran from the top of my scalp down through my spine and over the back of my legs.

Valentine had read my thoughts as he stood over me in the cave holding my neck. Now, in Billy Boy's bedroom, he was doing the same thing to my brother. What was he after?

"It is time you leave this house and this town," I said, reaching for my container of garlic.

Like any pesky mortal kid, Valentine enjoyed our quarrel. "You act big with your black nail polish and lipstick, but you could never be one of us. You don't have what it takes," he continued. "And Alexander needs to know you aren't ready."

His words hit me like a lightning bolt. "You can't...use my thoughts against me," I warned.

"Or can I?" he asked with a wicked grin.

Billy Boy began to stir.

Valentine quickly retreated into the room's shadows.

I glanced at my brother, who remained sleeping. When I turned back, I noticed Billy Boy's window was open and Valentine was gone.