Alexander didn't respond. I knew he didn't want to put me in harm's way again, but that didn't mean I had to like it.
Not only would I be missing a nocturnal adventure, I'd be missing precious time with Alexander. It was bad enough I had to be away from Alexander in the sunlight; I couldn't face being away from him in the moonlight, too.
"I'll make it up to you," he said in a bright voice. "I still haven't given you the surprise I was going to give you at the cave."
For the next five minutes I tried whining, protesting, and attempting my tried-and-true manipulation tactics, but nothing worked. Alexander put his foot down, before he put the phone down.
Then I tried arguing with my mother, but she wouldn't let me borrow the car. I figured if I used Billy Boy's bike, which had thicker tires than mine, I could meet Alexander at the cemetery before he started for the cave.
I knocked on my brother's door.
"Go away!" I heard my annoying brother say.
"I need to ask you for a favor," I said sweetly.
"I'm busy!"
I slowly cracked open the door. My brother's normally bright room was dark, except for a single desk lamp gently illuminating the room. He was sitting at his computer desk typing away on his keyboard with one hand and holding a gravestone etching in the other. To my surprise, there was someone sitting in a chair next to him—and it wasn't Henry.
I froze. Seated next to Billy Boy was a slightly smaller boy with powder white hair.
I gasped.
As if in slow motion, the vampire boy turned to me.
Two glassy green eyes stared through me.
Valentine looked like he'd been dead for more years than he'd been alive. He had a sullen, cadaverous, and almost handsome ghost white complexion, with soft bloodred lips. His long white shaggy hair hung over his face. He exuded an inner strength and, at the same time, a hint of frailty. Though he was only three-fourths my size and seemed like he could blow over with a gentle breeze, something told me he had the power to withstand the force of a storm.
"What are you doing in here?" my brother asked, rising.
"I didn't invite you in."
"I need to speak with you," I said sternly in a low voice.
Valentine's eyes bored through me. Chills ran down my spine like tiny jabbing icicles.
"Get out. I have company," my brother ordered.
Billy Boy charged toward me. He braced the door with his skinny arms and tried to close it. I stopped it with my combat boot.
"What is he doing here?" I whispered.
"He's spending the night."
My heart skidded to a stop. Spending the night? My brother obviously didn't realize who—or what—he'd invited to share his bedroom.
"He can't stay here," I warned softly.
"I don't tell you when Becky can come over. Since when did you become my mother?"
"Where's Henry?" I asked, stalling. "Shouldn't you have invited him, too?"
"He's staying at his grandmother's."
I glanced back at Valentine, whose green eyes glistened at me hypnotically. He licked his lips, and the light of the desk lamp shined on a small fang.
Like a million strobe lights going off in my head, I realized why Valentine must have come to Dullsville. Jagger and Luna weren't seeking revenge on Alexander anymore—they were seeking revenge on me by threatening my family. And they were sending Valentine to do their bloody work.
"Quit nosing around," Billy Boy said.
"But—"
"Get a life!" he yelled as only a little brother could, and slammed the door in my face.
Billy Boy didn't know Valentine was trying to get a life, too—his.
I paced in my bedroom, my combat boots slamming against the black-carpeted floor, while holding my hissing kitten, who was clearly uptight about our new neighbor.
I had to come up with a plan. Alexander was miles away and I wasn't even certain of his location. Unfortunately he never carried a cell phone. I wouldn't be able to inform him that the very person he was searching for was right here underneath my very own roof.
I took a deep breath. I tried to rack my brain for a strategy. I couldn't leave the house with a vengeful vampire in my brother's bedroom. However, my parents would think I had inhaled glue if I ran downstairs and calmly explained to them that Billy Boy had mistakenly invited over a bloodthirsty descendant of Dracula instead of a new-to-town tween in need of a friend.
I'd have to face this problem head-on.
I found my mother in the kitchen placing a plastic tablecloth over our dinette table. "Mom, we need to talk. That friend of Billy Boy's—he can't stay."
"Why not?"
"Word on the street is he's trouble."
"Thank you for your concern, but I'm not worried about an eleven-year-old boy."
"We barely know this kid. He's a stranger."
"What's there to know? He seems delightful and very charming. I think it's good for Billy to widen his circle of friends. He's coming out of his shell."
Billy Boy would be coming out of more than just a shell if Valentine stayed. He could be coming out of a coffin.
"Do you mind setting the table?" she asked as she filled a plastic cup with ice from the door of the fridge.
I grabbed plastic silverware and paper plates from our pantry.
This game wasn't over. I wasn't ready to fold. I had no choice. I had to show my cards.
The ice maker roared thunderously as my mom filled another cup with ice. I put my hand on the granite countertop and leaned in to my mother. "Valentine thinks he is a vampire."