forehead, and kissed me with such force my knees shook and my flesh quivered. I thought I might die of heavenly bliss.
Alexander held me, limp in his arms, and I felt bonded to him in a deeper way than I’d ever experienced. He’d let me into his world, further than ever before.
Alexander squeezed me so tightly, it was as if we were one person. He picked me up and swung me around, the twinkling lights of Dullsville swirling by me.
When he let me down, we both were giddy and dizzy. When I regained my vision I could see my school, the country club, and the vacant Sinclair Mill off in the distance. It was then I noticed something unusual.
Alexander found me lost in thought.
“What is it?” he said. “I hope you aren’t—”
“No — everything is fine,” I reassured him. “It’s nothing.” I didn’t want anything to break our perfect moment.
“What’s wrong?” he insisted.
I had to squint to make out the object. It was then I could see clearly a familiar car — or, rather, hearse.
I tried to block Alexander’s view by attempting to pull him away, but he didn’t budge.
Alexander was already staring at the barren factory.
His blissful expression sharpened slightly, and I could tell it registered to him that it was Jagger’s car.
I remained in his comforting clutches, bound to my love in a way I hadn’t been before. We clung to each other, both reluctant to break our euphoric encounter and face the situation that we now overlooked.
So Jagger hadn’t gone back to Romania or Hipsterville when Alexander’s party was over. There had to be a reason why he didn’t return and was apparently staying in the factory.
Alexander and I shared one last kiss before giving over to the distraction that lay at the bottom of the hill.
Not wanting to draw attention to us, Alexander parked the Mercedes in a grassy area more than fifty yards away from the mill. I was still beaming over Alexander taking my blood as his own. We tiptoed over the gravel road that led to the factory with a connection that couldn’t be broken. As we neared the entrance, the dreamy look in Alexander’s eyes continued and was only slightly marred by his concern over the discovery of Jagger’s presence.
We walked quietly through the shadows, and Alexander squeezed my hand extra tight.
The two antique smokestacks pointed toward the heavens like giant grave markers. The desolate and dilapidated factory was riddled with graffiti, broken and missing windows, rusted doors, and overgrown weeds and grass.
Discarded boxes, trash, and beer cans were scattered around the grounds.
We turned a corner and came upon a vintage black mustang — Sebastian’s ride.
Alexander stopped in his tracks. He sighed and slumped, let down by the discovery that his best friend was in the company of his former nemesis.
“Maybe Sebastian felt he had nowhere else to go,” I offered encouragingly.
“Now that he’s fallen for Luna,” Alexander said, “he’s probably under Jagger’s spell, too.”
Alexander took a deep breath and started for a white wooden door with the words “GET OUT” spray-painted in black.
“Well, then I guess we’re going in,” I said.
But instead of charging in, Alexander stopped.
“Maybe we should wait,” he said, pausing at the doorway. “They obviously didn’t want us to know that they’re still here. Maybe we shouldn’t let them know we found them.”
“But how are we going to find out what’s going on with them?”
“I could go in myself — undetected,” he said, alluding to his nocturnal powers.
“That hardly seems fair,” I said with the disappointment of a child who is told she is too short to go on an amusement park ride. “If I could change into a bat, I’d do it, too.”
Alexander realized my limitations were upsetting me.
“Besides,” I said, “it might be dangerous to leave me here alone in this dark, desolate place.”
He nodded in agreement. “We’ll see what we can find out from here.” Alexander cupped his pale and once bloodstained palm. I stuck my combat-booted foot in his cradled hands and he lifted me up. I struggled at first but managed to grab on to a ledge and pulled my head slightly above it so I could peer in through a broken windowpane. My black fingernails were in stark contrast with the gray cement.
Breathless, I peered in. At first it was hard to see. My vision had to adjust to the dim lighting. A flickering candelabra sat on a wooden table, and then I spotted a flash of white hair.
“Over there,” I whispered to Alexander.
He adjusted his stance a few feet to our left to where I could now see clearly. Jagger was sitting with his back to me, his red-flamed Doc Martens boots resting up on a crate and his fingers woven together, supporting his whitehaired head. He was the king of this crumbling castle. Sebastian, however, was fidgety. Alexander’s best friend repeatedly pushed his dreadlocks away from his face, his many rings catching the candlelight. He didn’t see me; perhaps the glare from the light above them hid me or he was so deep in thought he wasn’t focused on anything else. He tapped his leg repeatedly, like a junkie waiting for a fix. I’d never seen him this frazzled.
“We’ll need to start tomorrow,” Jagger declared, “to get this thing up and running.”
“So soon?” Sebastian asked.
“What are we waiting for?” Jagger countered.
Sebastian drummed his black-painted fingers on the table.
But Jagger and Alexander now had a truce, and Jagger wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that — or would he?
“The Coffin Club is a success,” Jagger said. “So there’s no reason not to start one here, too.”
“This town isn’t filled with vampires,” Sebastian said. “Not like the other one, anyway.”
“This town needs a place to dance,” Jagger said. “For everyone to come alive — at night.”
Sebastian couldn’t argue with that. “I agree — there isn’t anything to do in this town.”
“And then the vampires will flock here. Like we did. Alexander, Luna and me, and now you. Mortals above and vampires below. The Coffin Club was a success and this one will be, too. We are sitting on a gold mine here in this abandoned factory.”
“The Coffin Club Two?” Sebastian said.
“I already have a name for it: the Crypt.”
“But are the preppy girls in this town going to want to hang out at a place called the Crypt?”
“I have ways to entice them besides the name alone,” he said in a creepy but sexy tone.
“And vampires?” Sebastian asked skeptically.
“The mortals won’t even know they’re here. Besides, I have surprises planned for this club.”
“What kinds of surprises?” Sebastian wondered.
“If I told you, then they wouldn’t be surprises, would they? Besides, that’s weeks away. We have a club to build first.”
“What about Alexander?” Sebastian asked.
“He can be a partner, too. But I’m not sure if he’s the type to own a club. He’s very private.”
“He is my best friend. I feel funny about this — without him being on board.”
“Is your best friend, or was?” Jagger challenged. “Well, you’ll have a place to stay here as long as you like.”
Sebastian paused for a moment. He was the type that traveled constantly, his coffin covered with stickers from countries and cities around the world. It was something I could tell he was contemplating — a place to call home.
“But there is more of a vampire culture in bigger towns, am I right? Here it’s just Alexander. And let’s be clear. I think he likes it that way. I think we should respect that,” Sebastian said.
Jagger cracked his knuckles, trying to mask his frustration.
