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I assumed Sebastian intended to spend the night, but judging from the amount of luggage he possessed, I wasn’t sure just how many nights he planned on staying.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about this stranger’s visit—or move—into the Mansion. Alexander’s parents left

Dullsville and we were free to resume our independence. Now we were accepting boarders?

But more important, who was this person and why was he here?

“I better help him,” my boyfriend said, and headed for the Mustang.

From my vantage point on the crumbling steps, I wasn’t privy to their conversation. But by their gestures, I could tell the two chatted like reuniting brothers. After a few minutes, they carried Sebastian’s bags back toward me. I trailed the ghostly pair back into the Mansion, up the stairs, and into one of the vacant rooms.

The room was stark and cold. A velvet eggplant-hued curtain covered a single window. There wasn’t so much as a bed or air mattress. The only decoration present was a tiny vase with dead lavender flowers I’d placed on a small table a few days before.

“Appears you still like living in the past,” he said to Alexander. “Where’s the TV, man?”

“Down the hall,” Alexander said, pointing to the far end of the house.

Alexander retrieved a candelabra sitting on a table in the hallway. He lit a match and illuminated the room.

Sebastian dumped his oversized bags on the floor. They landed with a thud, making me suspicious about the weight of his clothes. He walked around the room with the candelabra.

“Lavender?” Sebastian asked as the candles spread light on the vase.

“It’s just Raven’s touch,” Alexander said.

“I can put it in another room if it bothers you,” I offered.

Sebastian gazed down at me. His eyes glistened in the candlelight. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Alexander stepped between us. “I’ll give you some time to settle in,” he said. “You must be tired from your trip.”

Sebastian surveyed his new digs and stretched out his arms while Alexander closed the door behind us.

I stopped Alexander before he moved. “Who is this guy?” I asked. “One of your relatives?”

“No. He’s my best friend.”

I was shocked. Alexander spoke so little about himself and Romania, I’d never heard about any friends, much less one best friend named Sebastian.

“You never mentioned you had a best friend,” I told him.

“He never came up.”

“Never came up? I talk about Becky all the time.”

“You talk about a lot of things,” he joked.

Alexander had a point. I liked to talk about every mundane thought I had during every minute of my day, while Alexander kept mum on even the most important subjects.

“So how long do you think he’ll stay?” I asked. I could only wonder what it would be like for the three of us to hang out at the cemetery, my house, or the Mansion.

“Perhaps a few days.”

“I thought he’d be here for weeks.”

“Sebastian? He won’t want to wear out his welcome.”

There was one piece of information I couldn’t wait to find out.

“I wanted to ask you,” I whispered. “Is he like you?”

Sounds of banging and hammering came from inside Sebastian’s room. Was he, too, redecorating the

Mansion?

The door creaked open and I saw Sebastian kneeling on the wooden floor, a hammer in one hand and a nail in the other. Boards peeked out of his duffel bag. It was a spookily spectacular sight—he was building a black coffin.

Alexander quickly reached for the door.

Just then we heard the locks being unlatched from the front door below.

“That’ll be Jameson,” Alexander said, closing the bedroom—or in this case, coffin room—door behind him.

“He will have to take you home tonight.”

“So soon?” I whined.

“It’s really late, actually. Even Jameson’s date is over.”

“So what are you guys going to do? I hope you’re not going clubbing.”

“In this town?”

“Or hiring escorts or something.”

Alexander shot me a look.

“I watch cable. I see what guys do.” And these guys weren’t like most others—these guys were vampires.

“One of you might get hungry,” I inferred.

“Don’t worry. I’m the same guy with him as I am with you,” he reassured.

And with that, Alexander gave me a quick good-night peck on the cheek, a stark contrast to the passionate, long lip-lock we had just shared in the cellar.

Reluctantly, I jumped into the Mercedes and Jameson drove me at a creeping pace toward my house. I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. Reflected back was a scowl not unlike that of a four-year-old child who hadn’t gotten her way.

It wasn’t fair. Two guys partying at the Mansion while I had to go home to bed. If I was a vampire, I’d be able to hang out with them all night and chill out during the day near them in my coffin. I’d fit in and not have any reason to be excluded—no longer a mere mortal with a reflection and a curfew.

I fantasized that Alexander would bite me and take me into his exciting and mysterious darkened world. It had been a dream of mine to become a vampire long before I’d even met him. But now that I was dating a vampire—this particular vampire—my broad childhood desire about joining the Underworld had morphed into a specific desire—to be turned by Alexander. But so far that hadn’t happened. I knew in my heart that there was the possibility that Alexander might not ever turn me, that maybe we would share life side by side but separated by our two worlds. I knew the reason he hadn’t bitten me was as much out of love as it would be if he had bitten me. I’d fallen for the one vampire in the world who didn’t put his needs above his morals. This only made me love him more. And I couldn’t imagine that Alexander’s fear might be right—that I might not like being a vampire after all, that something I’d desired all my life in its reality might not live up to my grandiose expectations. But how could that world be bad if I was sharing it with him?

And now, with the arrival of Sebastian, two immortals were partying it up in the Mansion without me.

At this point, as I was being driven home by Jameson, I was as much disappointed about not being a vampire as I was just being me and not being included in my boyfriend and his best friend’s sudden plans.

This situation would have to be fixed—sooner rather than later.

2

The Heart of a Vampire

The following day, I was bursting to tell my best friend, Becky, the news of Alexander’s surprise visitor. I waited impatiently by the swings in Evans Park until I finally saw her heading down the hill.

“Where have you been?” I asked, catching up to her.

“I had to drive Matt to practice. I hate saying good-bye. And yet I love saying good-bye—if you know what I mean.” She giggled, still in swoon mode.

I knew what she meant and how she felt about kissing her favorite guy. But for once, I had other things on my mind.

I intently led her toward the bottom of the yellow plastic double-wide slide.

“What’s so urgent?” she asked as we sat down.

“First it was Alexander’s parents. Although you know I adored them….”

“Yes…. What’s up?”

“Now Alexander’s best friend has invaded the Mansion.”

Becky was puzzled. “I didn’t know he had a best friend.”

“Neither did I.” I sighed.

“Wow…Alexander’s so mysterious.”

“Evasive.”

“Reclusive,” she added.

“Tell me about it—”

“Just like a vampire,” my best friend said. “I think that’s why he’s the perfect match for you.”