Vamps by Nancy A. Collins

pull of attraction even stronger than the first time their gazes locked. “No,” she admitted. It was kind of ironic that he’d shown up just as Simon and Cindy had gone away. “To tell you the truth,” she said with a crooked smile, “I’m actually kind of glad to see you.”
    â€œI was hoping you’d say that.” Peter smiled, taking her hands in his own. “Cally—I have a confession to make. Ever since I met you, I can’t get you out of my head. I don’t understand what I’m feeling. But do you feel it too?”
    â€œYou don’t know who I am,” Cally whispered, not wanting it to end.
    Peter’s smile faltered and he quickly looked away, unable to meet her eyes.
    â€œI know more than you think I do…. I never told you my full name, Cally. I was afraid to.”
    â€œAfraid?” Cally’s heart began to beat like a hummingbird caught in a spider’s web. “Why would you be afraid of me?”
    â€œBecause I thought you would kill me if you knew who I really was.”
    As she listened to Peter’s words, Cally knew she didn’t want to hear what he had to say. She glanced about uneasily as she tried to regain her composure and force her lips back into a smile. “Why would I want to kill you? That’s crazy talk.”
    â€œCally, my name is Peter Van Helsing.”
    Cally sat there for a long moment.
    â€œI have to leave,” she said numbly, pulling her hands free.
    As she began to get up, he grabbed at her, snaring her by the wrist. “Cally, it’s not what you think! You’re in no danger! I’m not going to hurt you!”
    â€œLeave me alone!” she snapped, jerking free of his grasp. “Stay away from me, Peter! I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to!”
    Then she was gone.
    Â 
    Cally ran down Metropolitan Avenue, angrily knuckling the tears from her eyes. On some unconscious level she must have known he was a Van Helsing right from the start. What really aggravated her was how clichéd the whole damn thing was: vampire and vampire hunter falling for each other at first sight. How much lamer could it possibly be? She was just as pathetic as her mother. But at least her mom knew what she was getting into right from the start—even sought it out, in fact.
    As far as Cally was concerned, there was nothing sicker and more disgusting than loving someone dedicated to the systematic genocide of your people, except, by all that was unholy, hoping that she might see him again.
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    Cally’s mother was waiting for her just inside the door when she came home.
    â€œThere you are, sweetheart! Tomorrow’s going to be a very important night for you, so I want you to make sure you get a good day’s sleep! That means no staying up late to watch The View , young lady!” Sheila threw her arms around her daughter, hugging her tight. “You won’t regret it, I promise! You’ll see—it will all be for the better!”
    â€œYeah. Whatever.” Cally sighed as she peeled herself free of her mother’s embrace. “I’m going to take ashower before I go to bed.”
    Cally’s room was at the end of the hallway. She slammed the door shut behind her and kicked off her shoes. As if the events of the night weren’t already upsetting enough, the first thing she saw was one of the Bathory Academy uniforms draped across the foot of her bed, like the empty skin of a serpent.

CHAPTER 9
    T here is nothing about Bathory Academy’s exterior to suggest that its students are fledgling vampires. There’s no outward sign of the strange nature of its teachings—unless you count its eternally shuttered windows. Beautifully designed, the three-story mansion on East Ninety-first Street was built by one of the old robber barons, back when the Upper East Side was still the suburbs. In fact, the only building in the vicinity that dates