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“You really think so?” I asked.

“Of course.”

“A perfect match? Or a vampire?”

“A perfect match, silly. But if anyone was a vampire—Alexander could be one.”

“You think so? You honestly think so?” I prodded.

“He is from Romania and has a butler. Come to think of it, I’ve only seen him at night,” she said, and laughed. “And that garlic allergy…”

But I wasn’t laughing.

“Did I say something wrong?” she asked.

No. In fact, you said something right, I wanted to say. Could I finally bare all the secrets to my best friend?

Would she realize this time that her statements were true, instead of laughing at me when I suggested the very same thing? At last I’d be able to unleash the truth about Jagger, Luna, Alexander’s parents, Onyx and Scarlet from the Coffin Club, and, most important, my boyfriend. The load I’d been carrying in silence was too heavy on my temporarily rose-tattooed shoulders.

I weighed my thoughts. If Becky knew Alexander’s true identity, then she’d surely blab the facts to Matt. I knew he was more tight-lipped than Becky. Guys didn’t gossip—I didn’t even know Alexander had a best friend! But this news was bigger than a footnote to a byline. This was front-page Dullsville Gazette breaking news. “Vampires Alive—or Undead—Atop Benson Hill.” And if this information did slip out at practice or a game, then Trevor Mitchell would know. Not only would Alexander have to return to Romania, but it would be imperative that he never inhabit Dullsville again.

“What’s wrong?” Becky asked.

“Alexander is a perfect match,” I said with a sigh. “I was just thinking how I didn’t want Sebastian to crowd us.”

“That’s totally normal. I get bummed when I have to share Matt with the entire soccer team. They talk about the most inane subjects, like ESPN and computer sports games. But I imagine Sebastian and Alexander are different from guys here. Is he an artist, too?”

“I don’t know.”

“They probably talk about world events,” she imagined aloud.

“I don’t even know what they talk about,” I answered, clueless.

“Well, what’s he like?”

“He is hot—there’s no doubt about that. But other than that, I don’t know. He’s a total flirt and he likes electricity.”

Becky laughed. “I think it’s a good thing. You can find out more about Alexander through him,” she said.

She had a point. Sebastian possibly held the key to the Alexander I never knew. For a moment, I lost myself in thought as I lay back on the slide. I imagined a young version of our goateed guest and Alexander having sleepovers in the cemetery, dining with Dracula’s descendants, or flying in bat form over European cities.

“Is he like Alexander?” she asked, awaking me from my daydream.

“In some ways he is…but I’m still not sure.”

“Well, we’ve been friends forever and we aren’t the same. It should be exciting to see what he’s all about.”

Was Sebastian a real romantic or was he a player? Did he have a menacing streak like Jagger or more noble intentions like my own boyfriend?

“I still can’t believe that for so many years Trevor and Matt were best friends,” Becky said to me, breaking me out of my fantasy. “It really turns my stomach. But I’m sure Sebastian is not like Trevor.”

“Let’s hope not.”

Becky and I were best friends but polar opposites. Were Alexander and his best friend like Matt and Trevor?

I knew one thing for sure—I couldn’t wait to find out!

Unlike when Alexander’s parents arrived in town, Alexander wasn’t keeping me a secret from Sebastian. I was invited to the Mansion as usual. Perhaps Sebastian’s arrival wasn’t a bad thing after all. He could show me the side of Alexander I’d never known, as Becky suggested. I biked over to the Mansion, hoping to get there just in time for the sun to set.

I happily coasted down a hill and squeezed the brakes as I turned the corner to avoid any oncoming or parked cars. What I didn’t anticipate was an obstacle of another kind—a pack of runners. I barely avoided smacking into them and veered off into a small band of hedges instead.

“Watch where you’re going, Monster Girl!” I heard a male voice call.

I withdrew my bike from the bush and picked a few leaves off my hoodie.

Trevor stormed over to me, flanked by a few soccer snobs, and held the handlebars of my bike so I couldn’t pass.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” His stunning green eyes bore through me. “A corpse convention?”

Even sweaty, Trevor was gorgeous.

“What are you running away from?” I retorted. “Your mirror?”

The soccer snobs laughed. Trevor’s already flushed face reddened like a sunburn.

The Mansion loomed behind Trevor up ahead on Benson Hill, the sun moments from setting.

“I suggest you turn back now. Before it’s too late,” he tried to warn as only an adversary could. “When darkness falls, the monsters arise.”

“The monster has already arisen,” I said, in his face. “And he’s standing right in front of me.”

Trevor’s cohorts snickered again.

“How about I just take your bike then?” He tried to wrestle the handlebars away from me, and for a moment the two of us struggled.

Finally, I released my grip. “Be my guest,” I relented. “Pedal your way back to practice on a girl’s bike. I’m sure it will end up on YouTube.”

Trevor thought for a moment as his cohorts tried to hide their chuckles. My nemesis let my bike fall to the ground.

“We better get back. It’s getting dark,” one of the soccer snobs said.

Trevor locked his gaze with mine. His torment was palpable. He owned a portrait Alexander had painted of me—the only thing he could own of me. And as I stood before him, he strained with the knowledge that I was the only girl in town that he couldn’t have—and perhaps the only one he truly wanted.

“Get out of here already,” he finally acquiesced. “Run off to your little Monster Boy, freak.”

I dusted myself off and picked up my bike. I’d have felt sorry for Trevor if he didn’t bring his own torment on himself. I pushed past my nemesis and the other runners, and we both headed off in opposite directions.

I pedaled through the darkness as fast as possible. I didn’t want to miss any precious moments with

Alexander and Sebastian. I felt as if I were hauling my bike up a ski hill. Exhausted, I barely had enough strength to bang on the Mansion’s door. I was still out of breath and perhaps a little disheveled when Jameson let me in.

“Good evening, Miss Raven—are you all right?” Jameson stood crisp and creepy in his gray butler’s uniform.

“Yes,” I said. “I’ve never been better.”

“Are you sure?” His voice and expression were kind and sincere.

I guess I appeared worse for the wear. Had there been mirrors in the Mansion, I might have been able check out my appearance. Out of respect for the Mansion’s inhabitants, I didn’t dare open Ruby’s compact, nestled in my purse. Instead, I just combed my hair with my fingers and tried to straighten my outfit.

“I believe they are upstairs,” Jameson directed.

I hurried up the creaking staircase. I passed Sebastian’s new accommodations and peeked in. The once-barren room was a mess—clothes, CDs, and games were strewn all over the hardwood floor. It appeared as if he’d been living there for decades. His coffin was finished, and the lid was closed and topped with junk. The sides of the coffin were adorned with stickers of global cities—Lisbon, Beijing, Rome—like a giant suitcase.

I could hear the sounds of battle coming from down the hall.

I headed into the TV room to find Sebastian stretched out, his boots propped up on the coffee table, gaming console in one hand and a cell phone in the other. Two knights were jousting on the screen.