chamber and the menacing clubsters followed him.
Phoenix was planning a revolt of his own. What would happen if he led the vampire club? Was he the kind of vampire who thought it necessary to lurk among the mortals? If he was planning to meet Jagger in the open, he was surely risking exposure himself.
I felt a vibration in my purse. I pulled out my cell. It was Aunt Libby.
―Raven? Where are you?‖ she asked, her voice concerned. ―I just checked the ghouls room and you weren‘t there.‖
―I took a wrong turn. I‘m a few yards from the dance floor,‖ I said truthfully, only it wasn‘t the same dance floor she was thinking of.
―I‘m done with my reading. She said marriage is in the cards.‖
―I‘ll meet you at the tarot card booth.‖
I hung up. If the tarot card reader had been truly psychic, she would have informed my aunt of my real location. Fortunately her powers were really only good for taking other people‘s money.
I returned to find the girls still immersed in cozy conversation with the martini guys.
―Where did you go?‖ Onyx said.
―I got turned around. Even a ghost could get lost in these tombs.‖ The blond beamed. A tiny drop of blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. Onyx wiped it off with her martini napkin.
―I really have to go.‖
―So soon?‖ Scarlet asked.
―Yes, I have to get back.‖
―You‘ll have to join us tomorrow,‖ Onyx said, entwined with the redheaded guy.
―Yeah, you‘ll have to join us,‖ he repeated.
I set off on my quest to meet Aunt Libby. Once again, I was lost in the tombs. I didn‘t remember which way Onyx, Scarlet, and I had entered or how far we‘d walked. I couldn‘t find the embedded skulls, or the clubsters hanging out in the hallowed graves. And there were dozens of girls in the labyrinth of tunnels with guys hanging from their necks.
I entered an alcove filled with gamers playing Medieval Morticians, another with members having black widow races, and still another playing Spin the Bloody Bottle. All were dead ends.
I was so lost I was ready to scream. I had to get back to Aunt Libby before she got worried and called the cops or, worse, my parents. At the end of one catacomb, I discovered a door. I hoped it led to the outside of the club and I‘d head back through the main entrance. There wasn‘t a knob anywhere to be found. In the darkness, I glided my hand along the unstained wood until I discovered a latch. I squeezed it and slid it open. The door didn‘t exit into an alleyway but rather into someone‘s apartment—a loft with dozens of medieval candelabras. For a moment I paused. Something looked familiar about it, and then I realized I‘d been here before. It was Jagger‘s apartment.
I snuck inside, wondering what insights I might gain this time from the threatening vampire.
The gray metal main door on the opposite side was open overhead. An aquarium, empty of water but filled with rocks and one deadly tarantula, remained near the radiator, as I‘d remembered.
In the far corner of the loft lay a coffin, adorned with gothic band stickers, encircled by dirt.
I noticed a wooden stake caked with mud and grass, a spool of rope, and several long boards—similar to the tools I‘d seen on a TV show about making a homemade crop circle.
I sensed someone lingering at the door behind me. I slowly turned around.
It was Phoenix. His sunglasses cast a shadow on his pale face, making it difficult to see his expression.
―What is it you are looking for?‖ he asked in his thick Romanian accent.
I felt alarmed. I knew I wasn‘t supposed to be nosing around Jagger‘s apartment, or the Dungeon, for that matter. Phoenix appeared to be watching me, always in the background, showing up unexpectedly in a blanket of darkness. My not knowing his motives made him especially intriguing and suspicious.
―You shouldn‘t be snooping around. I can escort you out.‖
―That won‘t be necessary,‖ I heard someone say from the
Phoenix was planning a revolt of his own. What would happen if he led the vampire club? Was he the kind of vampire who thought it necessary to lurk among the mortals? If he was planning to meet Jagger in the open, he was surely risking exposure himself.
I felt a vibration in my purse. I pulled out my cell. It was Aunt Libby.
―Raven? Where are you?‖ she asked, her voice concerned. ―I just checked the ghouls room and you weren‘t there.‖
―I took a wrong turn. I‘m a few yards from the dance floor,‖ I said truthfully, only it wasn‘t the same dance floor she was thinking of.
―I‘m done with my reading. She said marriage is in the cards.‖
―I‘ll meet you at the tarot card booth.‖
I hung up. If the tarot card reader had been truly psychic, she would have informed my aunt of my real location. Fortunately her powers were really only good for taking other people‘s money.
I returned to find the girls still immersed in cozy conversation with the martini guys.
―Where did you go?‖ Onyx said.
―I got turned around. Even a ghost could get lost in these tombs.‖ The blond beamed. A tiny drop of blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. Onyx wiped it off with her martini napkin.
―I really have to go.‖
―So soon?‖ Scarlet asked.
―Yes, I have to get back.‖
―You‘ll have to join us tomorrow,‖ Onyx said, entwined with the redheaded guy.
―Yeah, you‘ll have to join us,‖ he repeated.
I set off on my quest to meet Aunt Libby. Once again, I was lost in the tombs. I didn‘t remember which way Onyx, Scarlet, and I had entered or how far we‘d walked. I couldn‘t find the embedded skulls, or the clubsters hanging out in the hallowed graves. And there were dozens of girls in the labyrinth of tunnels with guys hanging from their necks.
I entered an alcove filled with gamers playing Medieval Morticians, another with members having black widow races, and still another playing Spin the Bloody Bottle. All were dead ends.
I was so lost I was ready to scream. I had to get back to Aunt Libby before she got worried and called the cops or, worse, my parents. At the end of one catacomb, I discovered a door. I hoped it led to the outside of the club and I‘d head back through the main entrance. There wasn‘t a knob anywhere to be found. In the darkness, I glided my hand along the unstained wood until I discovered a latch. I squeezed it and slid it open. The door didn‘t exit into an alleyway but rather into someone‘s apartment—a loft with dozens of medieval candelabras. For a moment I paused. Something looked familiar about it, and then I realized I‘d been here before. It was Jagger‘s apartment.
I snuck inside, wondering what insights I might gain this time from the threatening vampire.
The gray metal main door on the opposite side was open overhead. An aquarium, empty of water but filled with rocks and one deadly tarantula, remained near the radiator, as I‘d remembered.
In the far corner of the loft lay a coffin, adorned with gothic band stickers, encircled by dirt.
I noticed a wooden stake caked with mud and grass, a spool of rope, and several long boards—similar to the tools I‘d seen on a TV show about making a homemade crop circle.
I sensed someone lingering at the door behind me. I slowly turned around.
It was Phoenix. His sunglasses cast a shadow on his pale face, making it difficult to see his expression.
―What is it you are looking for?‖ he asked in his thick Romanian accent.
I felt alarmed. I knew I wasn‘t supposed to be nosing around Jagger‘s apartment, or the Dungeon, for that matter. Phoenix appeared to be watching me, always in the background, showing up unexpectedly in a blanket of darkness. My not knowing his motives made him especially intriguing and suspicious.
―You shouldn‘t be snooping around. I can escort you out.‖
―That won‘t be necessary,‖ I heard someone say from the
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