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Vampire Kisses 6. Royal Blood(17)

By:Ellen Schreiber




"Don't you even start withme. Not today."



"Well, when then? When will we start our essays?" he asked.



"I have our list of questions and my answers are blank," I said.



"To match your brain?That's not my fault,"



"Half the soccer team is almost finished with theirs and we haven't even started. I know you're a procrastinator, but I'm not cramming this in the night before it's due. Unless we pull an all- nighter-then I'm game." His suggestive gaze bore through me. "I know how you like to sleep in."



I snarled and slammed my locker shut. "I have a lot on my mind."



Trevor blocked my exit.



"You'd better do this assignment. You heard what Mrs. Naper said. If I fail this, it could affect my grades for college. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life in prison with you."



"We'll finish it in time. I've just been preoccupied."



"Doing what? Polishing gravestones? Painting your nails with blacktop? Conjuring the dead?"



Now he was getting on my bad side. "Then maybe I won't do it," I challenged him.



Trevor paused. His face grew red with anger. "I knew that was your plan all along. I'm not going to let you ruin my chances for a soccer scholarship, Monster Girl."



The bell rang, ending our hostile discussion.



"Don't bother asking me to walk you to class," he said sharply.



Here I was worried Trevor was planning to sabotage me when all along he was thinking I was going to do the same to him. My nemesis and I were more alike than I ever would care to admit.



"Remember, I know where you live," he said in his most threatening voice, "and that monster family, too. And believeme, they will be here for a while. That house won't sell."



Trevor started off for English class in a huff.



I was taken aback by my nemesis' last statement. I raced after him.



"What do you mean the Mansion won't sell?" I asked, jumping in front of him.



"Who do they think they can sell that bat trap to?" he asked. "It's an eyesore. And my dad says it's a major money pit. With all the new houses being built, who would buy a ghost- filled broken-down home when someone could buy a brand- new one?''



Trevor's injurious comment was actually a blessing in disguise. If the Mansion didn't sell, then Alexander couldn't move. My boyfriend could remain in Dullsville forever.



"I could almost kiss you," I surprised myself by saying.



"Then why don't you?" he asked, his eyes piercing through mine.



Just then the second bell rang.



"There's not enough time!" I said, and escaped into class.





22





ABerkley Realty for sale sign was stuck on the lawn of the Mansion. I wanted to rip it out of the ground and throw it over theiron gate .



I wasn't sure how I would react to Mr. and Mrs. Sterling now that I knew their true plans for Alexander and the Mansion. I dearly loved them like my own parents, but I was obviously conflicted. I knew they weren't trying to hurt me and my boyfriend, but their decision was breaking my heart.



I waited outside the Mansion's door, barely able to breathe. I knocked several times.



The door finally creaked open and Alexander appeared/ "They're out," he said.



I sighed. My anxiety flew out of my body like a bat from an attic. I entered the Mansion and gave my boyfriend a big kiss.



"I wasn't sure if I was going to have to beg them on my hands and knees or just burst out in tears."



Alexander gently laughed, but it was apparent by his hollowed cheeks and bloodshot eyes that he hadn't slept.



"I have great news," I exclaimed.



"I could use some."



"I figured out the perfect solution," I said.



"You did?" Alexander perked up.



I took a breath, excited by my problem solving. "You can't move out of the Mansion if no one buysit.,."



Alexander nodded. "True "



"So "



"So?"



"So, we have to make sure no one does."



"How are we going to do that?" he asked.



"Glad you asked. Gossip runs through this town like a flood. Usually the rumors are about you, your family, or me. Now we'll be the ones to spread them about ourselves."



"What will we spread? How can we convince people not to buy the Mansion?"



I hated to disappoint him. He was so proud of his grandmother's mansion. Just as I adored it, he obviously did even more.



"Have you been around this town?" I asked. "I can't imagine anyone would be interested in buying the Mansion anyway, with all the rumors surrounding it for years. But now that it's for sale we can't take any chances. We have to spread our own. Verify the Mansion is worse than they thought.Bats, mold, or rusty pipes, None of these women would step one of their Prada-wearing feet inside even view it."



Alexander's pale face lit up.



"But what if someone from outside of town comes to take a look."



"They have to stop at Mickey's gas station. Or stay al Dullsville's bed and breakfast. They'll find out fast enough about the money-pit mansion and then we'll be able to heat their tires screeching away."



He picked me up and kissed me for a long time.



"Where do we begin?" he asked with renewed hope.



"We'll have to set everything in motion tonight. We can't waste any time."



Alexander and I met Matt and Becky by the fountain al Dullsville's town square.



Matt was in his jersey and soccer cleats and Becky had her pink sweater tied around her waist.



"Thanks for helping us, guys." I said. "We can cover more terrain if we have more mouths."



"We'd do anything to help Alexander stay in town," Becky said.



"Now, the key spots for tonight are the square and Dullsville's country club," I told them. "I'll cover school tomorrow."



"Matt can get the two of us into the club," Becky offered. "No problem."



Sporting soccer cleats and dirt-stained elbows at the conservative club were even more favorable than a black lace bodice and combat boots.



"Meet you back here in an hour," I said.



Alexander and I took the north side of the square, while Becky and Matt took the south.



We popped in and out of boutiques fake browsing and zealously talking about the miserable condition of the Mansion. The sight of Alexander and me together on the square was enough to get gossip going, but the fact that they had inside dirt-literally-on the Mansion made every patron's and salesclerk's ears perk up.



"Missionaccomplished," I said as Alexander and I headed back to the fountain.



"Hey- you got Shirley's side," Becky said, already waiting.



"We planned on that," I said, nudging her,



"My treat."Alexander spoke with the same authority as a coach buying his players food after a win.



"No one ever listens to what I say," my shy best friend said as we headed into Shirley's. "But when we brought up the Mansion and the cracks in the foundation-everyone in the restaurant heard."



"It could have been because you were almost screaming," Matt said, "And we didn't have a reservation."



Just then an elderly couple sitting at a small table sharing a sundae glared back at us.



The woman said, "I think I heard that girl say that mansion has cracks in the foundation."



"I know," the man replied. "I thought he said his girlfriend ran screaming from it."



I gave Alexander's hand an extra squeeze and the thumbs-up to Matt and Becky.



Assorted dripping ice creams in tow, Becky drove us to Dullsville's country club, which was a snobby members-only club sprawled out over several acres. It included indoor and outdoor tennis courts, an eighteen-hole golf course, a gift and pro shop, and a four-star restaurant. Signs about the upcoming Annual Art Auction lined the grass like it waselection day .



"We'll wait here," I said to Matt and Becky.



For a few minutes, members with tennis rackets, golf clubs, and yoga mats were coming out of the club- returning from workouts like it was their job. When it quieted down, a couple carrying boxes filled with pottery struggled to open the front door. Alexander jumped out of the truck and opened the clubhouse door for them.



"That is as close as I could get without a white shirt," he said when he got back into the truck. We held hands with crossed fingers until Becky and Matt returned.



By the time I got home, word had traveled so quickly about the undesirable money pit on Benson Hill that my parents had already heard the news and were greatly concerned.



"Maybe you shouldn't return to the Mansion." My mother confronted me as I started for the stairs.



"Why?" I asked.



"I heard the walls could fall down at any minute."



"I thought you didn't believe in gossip. Besides, who told you that?"



"That doesn't matter," she began, then shouted,



"Paul- "



"But the game's almost over- " he hollered back.



"Paul, this is important."



My dad reluctantly joined us, clutching the remote like it was a lifeline.



"It's about Raven visiting the Mansion," my mom said. "I think until Alexander moves, it is best they spend time over here."



"You can't ban me from the Mansion!" I exclaimed.