The Eternal Kiss: Vampire Tales of Blood and Desire

There was something else, too. A feeling that as he looked back at her, something zinged through their gazes, some kind of connection—

Jennifer turned around and looked back at the other two girls at the table: Gabby with her eyebrows up, Bridget chewing nervously on the end of her red braid. “You’re blushing,” Gabby said.

Jennifer shrugged. “He is cute.”

Bridget grinned. “All vampires are.”

* * *

On the bus ride home, Jennifer thought about vampires. She didn’t know much about vampire legends: certainly less than the other girls in her school, who loved vampire romances and horror movies. She’d seen one vampire movie, once, when she was fourteen and over at Bridget’s house. For the next week after that, she’d dreamed about beautiful people with pale faces who would swoop through her window and take her away from her boring parents and her boring life. She would live in Paris instead of Pennsylvania and drink blood out of wine glasses, except it wouldn’t taste like blood—hard and metallic—but like something sweet and thin. Fruit punch, maybe, or black-cherry soda.

Not long after she’d been in a bookstore and asked her mother to buy her a copy of a teen vampire romance novel. Blood Desire, or something like that. She should have known better. Vampires and supernatural creatures and magic didn’t fit with her parents’ strict conservative worldview. Her mother had taken the book out of her hand and shoved it roughly back onto the shelf. Vampires, Jen was told, were not something girls her age should be thinking about; they were monsters made up by pagans and Satanists and had no place in a child’s bedroom.

What her mother really meant, Jen realized later, was that vampires were sexy, and she wasn’t supposed to think about sex, or boys. Unlike Gabby, Jen was never allowed to date—not even with a chaperone, not even a date to go to the mall in the middle of a Saturday with a million people around. She was forbidden to bring boys home, much less have them in her room. Sometimes Jen thought it was a wonder she was allowed to go to school at all, considering that there were boys there.

At home, Jen slipped in through the side door to find her mother in the kitchen, stir-frying onions in a pan. Jennifer slid onto one of the kitchen stools, twirling her backpack by one strap and watching her mother, thin and efficient-looking with her graying brown hair tied back in a braid and an apron cinched around her waist. None of the mothers of Jennifer’s friends, even when they did cook, wore an apron—not Bridget’s, whose mother only followed macrobiotic recipes she got off the Internet, or Gabby’s, whose crazy artist mother didn’t know how to make anything but Hamburger Helper. But Jennifer’s mom stayed home all day—she disapproved of her sister, who worked—so Jennifer figured she had nothing but time to cook.

“Hey, Mom,” Jennifer said. “I was just wondering …”

Jennifer’s mom half-turned, brushing a lock of hair away from her face and smiling. “About what?”

“How come Gabby gets to date,” Jennifer said. “You know. And I don’t.”

“Oh.” Her mother stood for a moment, poking at the onions in the pan. “Look, you and Gabby—you’re different.”

Her mother had said this before, and it always annoyed Jennifer. “Different how?”

“Well—Gabby can handle herself better.” Jennifer’s mother had her lips pressed together. Jen knew how much her mother hated having this conversation, but she couldn’t help it. It was like poking at a sore tooth. Of course, it was true that Gabby was more confident and self-reliant than she was, but how could anyone become confident or self-reliant when their parents kept them in a glass cage and never let them go anywhere or do anything?

“I can handle myself fine,” Jennifer said. “I’d just like to be able to—maybe—go on a date.” She held her breath.

She might not have bothered. “You know that’s out of the question,” Jen’s mother said. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She gave a little shriek as a puff of smoke wafted up from the pan. “Oh! My onions!”

Jennifer sighed.

* * *

In the library the next day, trying to research a book on Norse mythology, Jen kept feeling her gaze drawn to other books—books that had nothing to do with the topic of her essay. Books with the word vampire in the title.

There were more of them than she would have thought:

The Encyclopedia of Vampires, and The Massive Book of Vampire Myths, and Vampires through History. Jennifer was just reaching for the last one when a voice spoke from behind her:

“You know, most of those aren’t very accurate.”

She whirled around. Colin was behind her, leaning against one of the low shelves of books. Up close, his looks were even more striking. He had one of those sharp, bony, delicate faces, like a British film star. His hair was pure black, his eyes a bright and feverish green like a cat’s. There was a ring on one of his fingers. He couldn’t be married, she thought. But no, it was on the wrong finger. She thought of what Bridget had said—that he wore weirdo clothes, but she thought they suited him.

Jennifer took a deep breath. “What aren’t very accurate?”

“Those books.” He stepped forward and took The Massive Book of Vampire Myths down from its shelf. “It’s just going to tell you the same stuff. That vampires burn up in sunlight, don’t reflect in mirrors, can’t cross water or look at crucifixes …”

“And you don’t think that’s true?” Jennifer’s voice came out thin and high, almost a squeak. Standing this close, she could smell the scent that lingered on his hair and clothes. A faint charred smell, like a burnt match. Maybe he smoked.

“I think,” he said, “that for vampires to have been around for such a long time, they must be pretty clever. Too clever to let their secrets get out like this. I think they’d be much better off spreading false rumors about how they can be killed—garlic, stake to the heart. Once people believe them, once they think they’re safe …”

Jennifer shuddered. “You’re joking, right? Did you really tell Mr. Brandon’s English class that you were a vampire?”

He smiled. “Maybe I did. You have to admit it’s more interesting than the usual introduction. Don’t you think?”

“I don’t know.” Jennifer reached to put the book back on the shelf. “It all seems sort of …” She turned back around, but there was no one there. Colin was gone.

“Morbid,” she said, half in a whisper.

* * *

Jennifer stayed in the library for another half an hour, but Colin didn’t return. When the last bell rang, she went to her locker to get her books and found Gabby leaning against it, holding a notebook across her chest. She popped her gum as Jennifer approached.

“Bridget said someone saw you in the library talking to Colin,” she said.

Jennifer fiddled with her lock. “So what?”

“Did he say anything …” Gabby paused. “About, you know. Vampires.”

“No,” Jennifer said, partly just to be perverse and partly because she had felt a flash of resentment at Gabby’s interest in Colin. Colin was hers. Except, of course, he wasn’t. She jerked her locker door open—

And jumped back with a muffled exclamation as two books fell from the open locker and hit the floor at her feet. Gabby immediately bent and scooped them up. Both had lurid covers depicting a fanged male vampire looming over a prone girl in a long dress. “Blood Desire,” she read aloud. “The Vampire’s Secret. What is this crap?”

“Nothing. I was just looking for—” Jennifer broke off as something caught her eye. A piece of white paper fluttered, caught in the grille of her locker door. She reached to pluck it down.

I thought you might enjoy these, was scrawled on the paper in unfamiliar handwriting. There was no signature.

* * *

Gabby walked home with Jennifer, which was not unusual, especially for a Friday. Their houses were a few