Free Dance With a Vampire by Ellen Schreiber Page B

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. Touché. 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