This Totally Bites! (7 page)

“Hello, dah-link!”

Stepping inside my apartment, I nearly had a heart attack at the sight of Great-aunt Margo. She was striding toward me, carrying one of her luxurious leather suitcases in one hand and a large black umbrella in the other.

I froze, rainwater dripping off me and onto the foyer rug. All thoughts of Gabby and the fight fled my mind.

It was the first time I’d seen my great-aunt since that stormy Monday night. My eyes swept over her, searching for signs of the fearsome bat. Her face was as pale as ever, except for her bright red mouth and her navy blue eyes. Her dark hair was piled on top
of her head, and she wore a chic black trench coat and high-heeled black boots.

No wings. No fangs. For now.

“Vy do you look so frightened, my dear?” Great-aunt Margo laughed, flashing her very white teeth. “It is only me!”

She really doesn’t know,
I thought, amazed.
She doesn’t know that I know …

“I … I … you …” I cleared my throat. “Are you going back to Romania?” was all I could manage, pointing to her suitcase.

I felt a mix of worry and relief. On the one hand, she was leaving, right when I could ask her everything! At the same time, I sort of wanted her to disappear, taking along with her all the problems she had brought me.

“Not yet, dah-link,” Great-aunt Margo replied, walking right up to me. I cowered but she didn’t seem to notice. She kissed my cheek, and her lips felt like ice. “I am just going to a spa for a few days,” she explained. “In Pennsylvania.”

I’d never thought of it before, but
Pennsylvania
sounds a lot like
Transylvania.

I heard a whimpering sound, and noticed that
Bram was all the way down the hall near my parents’ bedroom, clearly waiting for Great-aunt Margo to leave.

“I must get some rest and beautifying before the gala on Friday,” Great-aunt Margo continued, heading for the door. “Your mother and father know I vill be gone for a vile. They are off having dinner vit friends tonight.”

I spun around. “Wait!” I cried after her, feeling desperate.

Great-aunt Margo turned back to me, raising her brows. “Yes, dah-link?”

I opened my mouth. A million questions flooded my brain.

What have you and your bats been up to every night?

Are you only going outside now because it’s gray and raining?

Are you good at volleyball?

When will I become a full-fledged vampire?

But somehow the words never made it off my tongue. All I could get out was:

“When will you … will I … will you have a good time?”

So much for being brave and speaking my mind.

“Oh, I vill, dah-link, thank you,” Great-aunt Margo purred as she opened the door. “You make sure you get enough rest, too. Next Friday vill be a big night for you!”

Before I could tell my great-aunt that I wouldn’t be going to the gala, she had swept out of the apartment. Only a cloud of flowery perfume lingered in her wake. Bram let out a bark that sounded sort of like “Good riddance!” And I stood there in my wet clothes, still brimming with unanswered questions.

“I have a question,” I whispered to the librarian.

It was the next afternoon, and I was at my local library. I’d woken up depressed, thinking about all the things I should have asked Great-aunt Margo, and imagining how much fun Gabby and Caitlin were having without me. When Mom found me moping, she told me to do something “productive,” and I remembered that we were supposed to visit the library for Ms. Goldsmith’s class. It was not the coolest way to spend a Saturday, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re a vampire who’s just lost your best friend.

The librarian, a skinny young man with black-framed glasses, glanced up from his computer screen.

“Yes?” he asked me in a normal voice.

I was surprised. I’d thought librarians were supposed to whisper. “I’m looking for books on Transyl — on Romania,” I corrected myself, making sure to whisper.

“Got it, Romania,” the librarian said briskly. His words sounded like a shout in the silent room. I cringed, and he pointed me toward a set of bookshelves nearby.

“Thank you,” I mouthed, turning to go.

Then I paused. Out of all the cruel things Gabby had said to me yesterday, one in particular was sticking in my head, refusing to go away:

Just because it happened to say that on
one
website
…

I hated to admit it, but my ex-BFF had a point. I’d been basing all my theories on that one site about Transylvanian vampires. Hadn’t Ms. Goldsmith said that the Internet wasn’t always the most reliable source? Maybe thick, old, dusty books would hold more answers. That was always the way it worked in
Harry Potter,
anyway.

I turned back to the librarian, leaned forward, and whispered extra-quietly, “Where would I find books on vamp — vamp —” I couldn’t get the word out.

“Vampires?” the librarian all but yelled. “Right over there!” He pointed to another section of the room, in the far, far back.

I held my breath and turned to look at the people sitting at the tables. I was sure they’d all be glaring at me or waving knobs of garlic in the air. Miraculously, everyone was still bent over their laptops and books. I let out a shaky sigh of relief.

I swung by the Romania shelves, but I couldn’t concentrate on any of the books there when I knew there was vampire knowledge waiting across the room. So I hurried past Mr. Loud Librarian and into the vampire section.

Here, the library seemed dimmer. My heart began to beat faster. I came to a row of shelves marked
FOLKLORE AND LEGENDS
. I thought I heard footsteps on the other side of the shelf, but I hoped I was imagining it. I wanted to be alone in this little nook.

I scanned the different titles. There were books on ghouls, zombies, unicorns, and mermaids. Finally,
I located three vampire books. One was called
In the Blood: Vampire Facts and Fables.
Another was called
Fangs for the Memories: Vampires in Literature and Pop Culture.
The third was called simply
The Vampyre
and was so old that the dark red spine was cracked, and the letters of the title were peeling off.

I decided to take all three books. But once they were in my arms, they seemed to weigh a ton. I staggered a little. I was trying to balance the books and walk at the same time when a teasing, familiar voice spoke up from behind me.

“Need a hand there, Pale Paley?”

The books all fell with a loud crash. The people at the tables turned and shot me annoyed looks. Mr. Loud Librarian had the nerve to hold his finger to his mouth and say, “Shhh!”

Slowly, Henry Green walked around so that he was facing me. His eyes sparkled.

“I guess the answer is yes,” he said.

My cheeks got so warm I was worried my face would burst into flames.

Henry Green?

He was the absolute last person I’d ever have expected to bump into at the library. I wished I could
sneak off and text Gabby about this surprise run-in, but then I remembered that we weren’t speaking.

“No, I don’t need a hand,” I snapped in a mortified whisper. But Henry was already kneeling down and scooping up the fallen books.

“Okay, what’s on the reading list?” he asked, looking at each title.
“In the Blood? The Vampyre?”

Panic washed over me. “Stop it!” I hissed, trying to snatch the books back, but he held them out of my reach. I didn’t want to make a scene, so I gave up. Henry got to his feet, smiling triumphantly. I gritted my teeth.

“Why are you even here?” I demanded, trying to keep my voice to a whisper. “Shouldn’t you be at soccer practice or something?”

“Not today,” Henry replied matter-of-factly, adjusting his messenger bag across his chest and tucking my vampire books under his arm. “I was doing research for Ms. Goldsmith’s class.” I noticed that two library books were sticking out from the top of his unzipped bag; one looked to be on France, the other on Russia. “But I got bored and came to see if they had anything interesting in this section.”

“You
… you’re interested in this stuff?” I asked, gesturing to the
FOLKLORE AND LEGENDS
sign. I took in
Henry’s West Side Prep soccer hooded sweatshirt, khakis, and Adidas sneakers. I’d always assumed he was only into sports and video games and being Mr. Popularity.

Then again, I’d never really gotten to know him.

“Yeah, totally.” Henry grinned. I realized that, for once, he wasn’t speaking to me in a teasing or mocking way. “You should see my collection of old-school horror movies at home — I mean, um —” Quickly, Henry ducked his head and shuffled his Adidas.

I squinted at him, confused. Was he …
blushing?
No. It couldn’t be. And he hadn’t just sort of invited me over to his house, had he? No. It couldn’t be.

“I also have a tarantula,” he announced, glancing up again. Instantly, he looked embarrassed at having told me this random fact. “But you probably hate tarantulas, huh?”

“Nope,” I replied, shrugging. “They’re kind of cool.”

As long as I don’t have any relatives who are secretly tarantulas,
I thought.

“Really?” Henry asked. “Don’t girls think all bugs are gross? Ashlee does.”

The way he said Ashlee’s name — in a kind of fed-up tone — made me wonder if he wasn’t her
biggest fan. Another surprise. I’d always assumed Henry liked her. The crush type of
like.

“Well, I’m pretty different from Ashlee, in case you haven’t noticed,” I said. I couldn’t keep myself from smiling.

Meanwhile I was thinking:
Am I really standing here, having a conversation with Henry Green?
It definitely wasn’t the strangest thing to have happened to me this week, but it was up there.

“I’ve noticed,” Henry laughed. “I mean, you had all those smart ideas for the Halloween dance.”

“Oh. Um, thanks.” My heart did a funny flip-flop. I looked down at my boots, my hair falling over my face. Had he just complimented me? Weird.

“Is that what these are for?” Henry asked, holding up my vampire books. “Research for Halloween?”

I shifted from one foot to the other. “You could say that,” I replied.
Though I can use them for my genealogy project, too.

“Were you gonna sit down?” Henry asked, and he jutted his chin toward a small table nestled in the corner behind us.

“Uh, that was the plan,” I replied. And surprise number three about Henry Green was that he
carried my books over to the table and set them down for me.

I waited for him to tease me about something, but he was actually being polite and, well, nice. Almost like a friend. I wondered if it was because I’d barked at him yesterday for calling me Pale Paley. Or maybe getting away from school and his popular crew made him act a little differently. In a good way.

I expected Henry to say bye and take off, maybe to meet Roger or someone for a movie. Instead, he stood still, examining the titles of my books again.

“So, what’s with the vampire fascination?” he asked, smiling.

Oh, boy.

I gulped, tucking my hair behind my ears. “I guess it’s a subject that, um, hits close to home,” I managed to reply, hoping Henry couldn’t hear the thudding of my heart.

Henry nodded, his green eyes bright. “Okay, speaking of vampires?” he began. He glanced over his shoulder, then took a step closer to me. I felt myself blush again. “I haven’t told this to anyone, but do you wanna hear something crazy?” he whispered.

“Sure?” I squeaked out. What could Henry possibly tell me that was crazier than my own story?

“I have this theory,” Henry whispered. “Have you been hearing about the dead squirrels and birds they’ve been finding in Central Park every night?” I nodded, feeling like I might pass out. “Well,” Henry continued, looking thoughtful. “I know it’s insane, but to me, it sounds almost like the animals are being attacked by vampires. I mean, the two-pronged bites on the neck? That’s a classic vampire mark. Don’t you think?”

The bookshelves around me began to spin. My hands and feet turned cold.

“People have been saying it’s a hawk,” Henry went on, his eyes wide. “But come
on.
It’s not a hawk. I think … I
bet
…” He lowered his voice even more. “There are vampires in Manhattan.”

All the blood drained from my face. Without warning, my knees buckled and I sank into the chair at the table.

Henry frowned at me. “Whoa, are you okay? I’m sorry if I freaked you out.” He shook his head. “This is why I haven’t told anyone! I guess I thought you’d maybe understand since you seem into vampires and —”

“I understand,” I interrupted.

Henry raised his eyebrows. “You do?”

I looked up at Henry, taking note of the sincerity in his eyes. In an afternoon full of surprises, the biggest one was this: that, suddenly, Henry Green, of all people, seemed like someone I could confide in.

The bravery I’d felt in school yesterday swept over me. Maybe I didn’t have to be totally “on my own” without Gabby. Maybe I could share my secret with the most unlikely person in the world.

I took a deep breath. I knew I might be making a huge mistake. I knew I was running the risk that Henry would tell Ashlee and Eve and Roger and all of West Side Prep about me. But I was willing to take that risk, because I sensed that Henry would believe what I was about to say.

“I understand,” I repeated. “Because I am one.”

Henry didn’t say anything at first. He just took off his messenger bag and sat down in the chair across from me. Then he leaned forward, put his elbows on the table, and gave me a serious look.

“Tell me everything,” he whispered.

I didn’t trust my voice to work, so I reached into my backpack and pulled out my social studies notebook and a pen. As Henry waited, I wrote down all the events of my wild week. I left out the part about fighting with Gabby, and my volleyball victory, sticking mainly to the Great-aunt Margo details. Somehow, putting everything into writing made me feel lighter and freer. It felt almost as good as drawing.

When I was done, I flexed my cramped fingers and pushed the paper across the table to Henry.
He read it carefully, his green eyes darting over my messy handwriting, and I held my breath.

A small part of me was terrified that he, like Gabby, would scoff at my all-too-true tale of bats and dynasties and Transylvania. There was also the possibility that he would laugh, summon Ashlee out of a hiding place, and, in his usual teasing voice, tell me it had all been a giant prank.
Or
his face would turn white, and he would jump up and stumble away, disgusted by me.

But as soon as he finished reading, he passed the paper back to me. Then he looked me in the eye and asked, “So how do we find out when you become full-fledged?”

It might have been the fact that he said
we
that made me want to get up and throw my arms around him. Fortunately, I resisted.

“Thank you,” I said instead, hoping Henry could see the gratitude written on my face. I took the piece of paper from him and crumpled it up, shoving it deep inside my backpack. “For not running away or something,” I added.

“Are you kidding?” Henry shook his head, his eyes dancing with excitement. “I always
knew
that things like this existed in real life. But I never really
talk about it with my friends. I once tried to ask Roger if he believed in ghosts, and he told me I was being a dork.” He rolled his eyes.

“Well, you are a dork, but that’s beside the point,” I replied. It was fun to tease Henry back for once.

Henry grinned. “Hey, now. Just because you’re a fledgling vampire doesn’t mean you can get all evil.”

My ears pricked up. “Fledgling?” I whispered. “Is that what I am?”

“I think so,” Henry said, reaching for the book called
In the Blood.
“I read a book like this one last year, and it said that vampires who haven’t really matured yet are known as fledglings.” He furrowed his brow, opening the book and skimming the first page. “I can’t remember, but I’m pretty sure there’s some kind of moment, or ritual, when the fledglings reach maturity and can morph into bats and stuff.”

“Really?” I whispered, my stomach tightening. “A ritual?” I grabbed the
Fangs for the Memories
book. “Maybe one of these books will tell us more.”

“Let’s see,” Henry said, looking determined.

Hidden away in the dark, dusty corner of the library, Henry and I got down to business. Henry tackled
In the Blood
while I tore through
Fangs for
the Memories,
each of us passing the books back and forth when we found anything that caught our attention.

Fangs for the Memories
didn’t offer much more than lists of different vampire movies and books through the ages. Henry told me he owned most of the movies, and that we could watch them for research if we needed to.

In the Blood
didn’t say much more about vampire traits than the website had. I learned, however, that hungry vampire bats often had red eyes, and that the Romanian word for vampire was
nosferatu,
which somehow sounded even scarier.

But it was in the crumbling, yellowing pages of
The Vampyre
that we hit pay dirt. There was a chapter in the book called “The Dynasties of Transylvania.” Henry moved his chair around the table next to me so we could read it together.

The chapter talked about the mysterious beauty of the Carpathian Mountains and the ancient vampire bloodlines of the region. I got so wrapped up that I forgot to feel nervous that Henry and I were sitting side by side.

Not that I cared.

Right?

When we came to the second page of the chapter, Henry gasped, and pointed to a paragraph that made my skin freeze:

“We found it!” Henry exclaimed, forgetting to whisper. “That’s the ritual I was thinking of!”

“The Nocturne Ritual,” I murmured, the name making me shiver. Our corner of the library suddenly seemed a little cooler and a little darker than it had before.

Across the room, Mr. Loud Librarian cleared his throat and glared in our direction. Henry and I glanced over at him for a second, then shrugged at each other and delved back into the book:

“Sounds intense,” Henry said.

I leaned back in my chair, trying to work out all the details in my mind.

“A distant land?” I said, overwhelmed. “How am I supposed to even get to the ritual? I’m not allowed to take an airplane by myself.”

“Well, it’s a land distant from
Transylvania.”
Henry pointed out, running his finger over the text. “Which could be anywhere. It
could
even be right here in New York City.”

A memory was nagging at me. There was something someone had said to me recently, about New York City, and thirteen years. What
was
it? I closed my eyes and tried hard to recall the conversation.

“What are you thinking?” Henry asked me.

“I’m thinking that the two of you are being very disruptive.”

Mr. Loud Librarian’s voice made both of us jump. My eyes flew open and I saw him standing by our table with a disapproving look on his face.

“You have not been speaking at a library-appropriate volume,” he said, wagging a finger at us. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to take your little study group elsewhere.”

Seriously?
Henry and I exchanged a glance. The man with the loudest voice on the planet was telling
us
we were being too noisy? It would have been funny if it weren’t totally ruining our research.

“Sorry about that,” Henry said, hiding his smile as we stood and gathered our books. Griping about Mr. L. L., we took the elevator down to the main lobby, where Henry checked out his genealogy books, and I checked out
The Vampyre.
Then we exited the library and stepped into the blinding sunshine.

As Henry and I crossed the street, I reached into my book bag for my sunglasses. But before I could put them on, I saw something that made me stop dead in my tracks.

On the corner was a newsstand with an orange and black ad on its side. The ad read:

My pulse began to pound.

The exhibit. Great-aunt Margo. Her bats. New York City.

That
was what I’d been trying to recall: a conversation about Great-aunt Margo! On Thursday morning, Mom had told me that Margo had been in New York City thirteen years ago.

Thirteen years.

And hadn’t that elderly lady said something on the news? Something about similar animal attacks in Central Park happening thirteen years ago?

I started to tremble. That was
it.
It had to be.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Henry asked, clearly seeing my stunned expression.

I turned to face him. “I think … I think I just figured something out.”

Without a word, Henry and I sat down on the closest bench, and I took
The Vampyre
out of my book bag. Quickly, I flipped to the page we’d been on before, and read out loud:

“‘Thirteen years must pass before the ritual can take place in the same land again. The ritual is held indoors, often in the midst of a great ball or celebration.’”

I glanced up at Henry, excitement and fear building in me. “Henry, my great-aunt was last in New York City thirteen years ago, and I’m pretty sure there were other vampires with her at the time. I don’t know what kind of celebration or ball was going on then, but she
is
attending a big celebration now! The opening gala for the Creatures of the Night exhibit is this Halloween, at the Museum of Natural History!”

Henry’s eyes were growing wider by the second. “Halloween?” he whispered. “There’s a blood moon this Halloween!”

“What’s a blood moon?” I asked, hugging my arms to keep from trembling.

“That’s what people sometimes call October’s or
November’s full moon, because of its reddish color,” Henry explained. “But listen … since there was already a full moon in September, October thirty-first will be
autumn’s second full moon!”

Henry and I stared at each other in shocked silence.

It made sense. All of it. The gala would provide the perfect distraction, and the museum was huge, with plenty of places to hide. My mind raced as I pictured all the different rooms and halls. There were the dinosaurs, the animal dioramas, the giant blue whale, and the planetarium.
Where would the ritual take place?
I wondered.

“But wait,” Henry said, breaking into my thoughts. “Shouldn’t you have received your ‘summoning’ or whatever by now?”

I imagined receiving a fancy invitation in the mail, with the words
You Are Cordially Invited to the Nocturne Ritual
written out in blood. I shuddered.

“Has your great-aunt mentioned the gala to you specifically?” Henry asked.

“She and I haven’t even talked all that much,” I sighed. “Just when she first arrived, and then yesterday afternoon when she …” I trailed off.

What had Great-aunt Margo said to me as she’d left for her spa?

Next Friday vill be a big night for you!

My heart skipped a beat. I’d thought she was just referring to the gala, but she’d meant something else entirely.

I repeated the words to Henry, and he nodded. “That was totally your summoning,” he confirmed. “So now we know for sure.”

I nodded dazedly. Then I looked down at my arms — arms that would soon be glossy black wings. I touched my cheek — soon, a bat face. I felt my incisor with the tip of my tongue, imagining the fangs that would shoot out. All of it was actually going to happen. I was going to become a full-fledged vampire.

Talk about a big night.

“Crazy, huh?” Henry murmured. I could tell he thought it was cool that I’d be embarking on this adventure. Meanwhile, I wasn’t sure how I felt about any of it.

“Are you gonna be okay going to the museum alone?” Henry was asking me. “Maybe some friends should come with you and stand guard or something?”

“Maybe,” I said.

Wait.

My
heart dropped like a stone.

In all the excitement of the afternoon, I had completely forgotten.

“Except there’s one big catch.” I sighed, slumping back against the bench.

“What?” Henry looked worried.

“The Halloween dance!” I cried. “It’s at the exact same time. And you heard Ashlee. Now that I’m doing the decorations, I
have
to be there.”

“But you can’t miss the Nocturne Ritual either,” Henry pointed out, taking
The Vampyre
from me. “It says fledglings are ‘required’ to attend.”

“I know,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. My old problem was back to haunt me — big-time.

“Unless …” Henry began.

I looked up at him, feeling a prickle of hope.

“Unless you put up all the decorations superfast, and then run over to the museum,” Henry said. “It’s only two blocks from school.”

I brushed my bangs off my forehead, doubtful. How could I transform the whole gym into Hollywood Halloween and make it to my vampire initiation in time, especially now that Gabby had bailed on me?

“I’ll help you,” Henry offered.

I whipped my head around to look at him in surprise. “You will?”

“I mean, I’m not really good at putting up decorations or whatever,” Henry said with a half smile. “But I can try. And I can distract Ashlee with a few vice presidential questions when you need to leave.”

I frowned at Henry. I was grateful, but also confused.

“I don’t get it,” I said flatly. It must have been the new, powerful Emma-Rose that was letting me talk so plainly. “Why — why are you being … nice to me? All you do at school is make fun of me and call me Pale Paley.”

Henry’s face flushed, and he ran a hand through his hair, looking unsettled. “I, um, I want to know how this whole vampire thing turns out,” he stammered, not really answering my question. He glanced at his watch. “Anyway, I’m supposed to meet Roger now to play some soccer in the park,” he said.

I looked at my watch, too. “Oh, right,” I gasped. “I have to meet my dad.” He would be waiting in front of the library by now to walk me home.

We stood up, and Henry handed me back
The
Vampyre.
“Um, so, good luck,” he added. “I guess we can talk more about this at school if we need to.”

“I guess,” I said, still feeling bewildered about everything. I waved to Henry, turned, and started to walk away.

“Hey, Emma-Rose?” he called after me. I glanced at him over my shoulder. “I won’t tell anyone about this,” he said, his green eyes solemn. “I promise.”