Curiosity Killed the Cat (11 page)

BITE INTO THE NEXT POISON APPLE, IF YOU DARE!

At First Bite by Ruth Ames

Here’s a spine-tingling sneak peek!

On Saturday, I sleep in. The long weekend stretches out ahead of me. Back in New York, I know, Eve and Mallory will be shopping at Bloomingdale’s, but for once, I don’t feel like I’m missing out. There are plenty of things to do here in L.A., like seeing the Hollywood Walk of Fame, or, as Mom suggested last night, hitting up Rodeo Drive.

I’m about to go downstairs and remind Mom of these plans when the wail of sirens outside makes me jump. I realize then that I’d been hearing the sirens, distantly, all morning. But in my fog of drowsiness, I didn’t pay attention.

I step out onto my balcony. It’s an overcast, slightly chilly day. But the air still smells sweet, like flowers and oranges. Across the street, by the entrance to the beach, I see police cars, news vans, and a crowd of concerned-looking people.

A finger of worry pokes me. It could be a shark sighting, or maybe a skateboarder fell and skinned his knee. But a niggling feeling in my gut tells me it’s something more sinister. Something that I’ll find important.

I go over to my computer and type in
Santa Monica
and the word
attack
. A second later, a headline pops up and makes my jaw drop:

SURFER FOUND ON SANTA MONICA BEACH WITH SEVERE NECK WOUND; IN STABLE CONDITION AT HOSPITAL

“Oh my gosh,” I whisper.

In what was believed to be a wild animal attack, a twenty-one-year-old surfer was bitten this morning…. The young man recalls “a dark, winged thing, like a bird, maybe” flying at him before he blacked out….

He was found in an odd “frozen” state and suffered significant blood loss, but was able to communicate…. Police have no leads.

I shrink backward in my chair, terror gripping my throat. There’s no way this is a coincidence. Somehow I feel responsible, as if I should have done something to prevent this. As if I need to do something now.

I glance wildly around my room. I could text Arabella, but it’s unlikely she’d get back to me. I could call the police, but then I’d run the risk of everyone discovering
I
am a vampire. I could — I could — I close my eyes, overwhelmed. Then, in the next instant, there’s nothing I
can
do.

Because I’m transforming into a bat.

Sierra Harimann lives in Brooklyn with her husband and their cat, who is alive and well and not haunting anyone. This is her first Poison Apple book.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to: Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

Copyright © 2011 by Sierra Harimann
Cover design by Yaffa Jaskoll
Cover art by Liz Adams

All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC, APPLE PAPERBACKS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

First printing, August 2011

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eISBN: 978-0-545-38945-7