The Vampire Cafe is located in the Ginza neighborhood of Tokyo, which is about as opposite of Asakusa as you can get. I'm talking luxury boutiques-Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Gucci, and a twelve-story (!) Abercrombie and Fitch. If Jayden weren't so hungry, I'd so be shopping like a fiend.

We took the subway here and had a car almost all to ourselves after getting on and having Jayden shake and shiver like a heroin addict. He woke up with major blood withdrawal and it's been getting worse ever since. Some j.a.panese women wearing surgical masks over their mouths gave him dirty looks before exiting to another car. Sadly, I couldn't very well explain to them that vampirism isn't exactly an airborne virus they could catch.

We meet up with Rayne outside the Ginza- itchome Station, entering a world of bright lights and tall skysc.r.a.pers, to which my sister immediately turns up her nose in disgust. I think from her research she a.s.sumed j.a.pan was one big charming manga full of boys and girls wearing cat ears, not a neon version of Fifth Avenue.

"Come on," I say, grabbing her arm. "We've got to hurry."

After wandering around a bit-Tokyo addresses are almost impossible to decipher, due to the fact that they're based on a block system, rather than street address-we finally locate the building that houses the Vampire Cafe.

The three of us board the elevator and it slides open into a dark, mysterious restaurant. A j.a.panese hostess, dressed in a French maid's uniform, greets us at the door and leads us inside.

Rayne lets out a low gasp as we step into the restaurant's interior. The place is like her dream bedroom. All decked out in black and crimson with Gothic candelabras offering low mood lighting. In the center of the room is a life-sized, old-fashioned coffin, adorned with skulls and roses, and the black carpet has big red splotches that I guess are supposed to represent bloodstains.

Now, as you know, I myself am totally not into the whole Goth esthetic at all, but I have to admit, this place is pretty awesome, with many of the tables enclosed by red velvet curtains to give diners a sense of ultimate privacy. Our hostess leads us over to one of them, pulling back the curtains and allowing us to slide into our seats before closing the curtains once again, leaving us in a kind of cozy little cave. On the table are bloodred napkins, chopsticks, a candle, and a bra.s.s bell.

"If only Jareth were here," Rayne swoons. "This is, like, the most romantic restaurant ever."

"We're not here for the five-star dining," I remind her. "Especially since two out of the three of us can't even eat food."

"Yeah, yeah. Step on my rapture, why don't you?"

I open my mouth to tease her some more, but at that moment the curtains part and a man, dressed in a butler's uniform, starts chattering at us in rapid j.a.panese.

"No, no!" Rayne interrupts. "No habla j.a.panese."

"That's Spanish, you moron," I point out, pulling the phrase book I bought at the airport out of my bag and frantically paging through.

"Eigo wo hanashimasu ka?" Do you speak English?

"Hai! A little," he replies, looking excited but unsure. "You are American?"

We nod.

"You like blood... c.o.c.ktail?" he asks.

Rayne gives me an excited glance. "Yes, please!" she says. "Two cups."

"I'll just take... um... mizu," I add, after looking up the j.a.panese word for water. No blood for this fairy, thank you very much.

The waiter nods and backs away, the curtains slipping shut behind him. Rayne turns to Jayden and me, an ecstatic look on her face. "Oh my G.o.d, that was easier than I thought!" she gushes. "I guess I shouldn't expect anything less from Tokyo. It's so much cooler than the United States. I mean, they don't even try to hide the fact that they're serving vampires here, like Club Fang has to do back home." She reaches out and grips Jayden's forearm. "So awesome, huh?" she asks him. "We'll get you fixed up in no time!"

The waiter returns a moment later with two dainty winegla.s.ses filled with red liquid and my cup of water. Rayne and Jayden grab their drinks and each take an eager sip. Then they look at each other and set down their cups in apparent disgust.

"What?" I ask. "Not your blood type?"

"It's wine," Rayne replies in an overwhelmingly disappointed voice. "Like, real wine." She looks up at the waiter. "I thought you said it was blood." When the waiter looks back at her blankly, she grabs my phrase book from me and starts paging through. "Chi?"

The waiter nods and points to the gla.s.s. "Chi," he a.s.sures her with a wide, naive smile. "You no like it?" Rayne sets down her gla.s.s, looking b.u.mmed. "No, I like it fine. It's just not what I expected is all."

The waiter shrugs, then scurries away, probably lamenting the fact he got stuck with the American table tonight. Rayne watches him go, scowling. "Wine," she repeats scornfully.

"Come on, Rayne, what did you expect?" I ask. "This is a real restaurant. They're not just going to have blood on the menu. The j.a.panese health department would shut them down in a heartbeat, I'm sure." I pull open the curtain to spy on the rest of the place. In a corner, a group of j.a.panese teens are having what appears to be a birthday party, complete with "bleeding" raspberry cake. "Face it.

This place is just a tourist trap, not a real vampire den."

Rayne bites her lower lip. "That's just their cover," she says, unwilling, evidently, to give up. Her eyes scan the room. "The forums said they have blood on tap. Maybe it's not in the main restaurant. Maybe they have a back door into a secret room. I don't suppose your phrase book has how to say 'blood bar' in j.a.panese, does it?" She starts looking through the book again.

"Sure, it's right after 'Where's the bathroom?' in their list of top useful phrases," I reply dryly. Rayne throws the book at my head.

At that moment, the waiter returns with our first course. Some kind of shrimp appetizer, swaddled in a plastic coffin and dripping in bloodred c.o.c.ktail sauce. Genuine or no, I give this place an A+ for presentation.

"Do you know any vampires?" Rayne asks the poor waiter, evidently done with any attempts to speak his native tongue.

"Vampire!" He nods enthusiastically. Rayne's eyes light up. "Where?"

He c.o.c.ks his head in confusion, then makes a sweeping gesture around the restaurant. "Vampire... Cafe!" he says slowly, as if speaking to a dim- witted child. Which, of course, in this case isn't far off the mark.

Rayne lets out a frustrated breath. "Well, where's the back room? I heard there's a Blood Bar here. Where's the entrance to that?" She's practically shouting now, falling into the trap so many tourists do-a.s.suming that if they only speak louder, they'll suddenly be understood.

But our waiter only looks baffled. "Bath-room?" he tries. Poor guy.

"No, no! I mean-"

"It's okay," I cut her off. "We're fine," I tell the waiter. "Domo arigato. Thank you."

The waiter looks relieved and babbles something in j.a.panese that I a.s.sume is "Enjoy your meal" but very well could be "Go back to McDonald's, you stupid American pigs." I poke my appetizer with a chopstick, then take a tentative bite. Hmm, not bad. I chase it with Rayne's gla.s.s of wine and then steal her appetizer off her plate. "Too bad you guys can't eat," I tell the two sulking vampires across from me. "This is pretty good."

"A vampire restaurant is the stupidest idea ever," my sister grumps. "Seeing as real vampires don't eat." She slumps back into her chair with a huff. "Maybe we should have tried somewhere else." She pulls the curtain back, as if she wants to just leave then and there. I'm about to tell her that she can't just up and walk away on the bill and, besides, I want to finish my meal, but then I notice that the birthday party people are all looking at us, and whispering furtively to one another. I also notice that none of them seem to be actually eating any of the cake in front of them, but the red sauce has been drained dry.

And they all have identical gla.s.ses of red wine. "Rayne," I hiss. "Take a look at that group over there."

Rayne stops climbing out of the booth and looks over in the direction of the party. "What, more stupid tourists? Who cares?"

"Yeah, but they keep looking at us and whispering."

"Whatever. I'm so-" Rayne cuts off as she does a double take. "Wait a second," she hisses. "Is that..." Her eyes widen in recognition. "Oh my G.o.d, it is! What the h.e.l.l is he doing here?"

14.

"Who?" I ask, trying to peek back through the curtains for someone recognizable at the party table, praying it's not a member of the Blood Coven. But before I can scan the crowd, my sister yanks me back inside the booth.

"Race Jameson," she hisses. "He's sitting at the far end of the table."

"What?" I stare at her. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I spent thirty days in lockup with Mr. Vampire Rock Star. I'd recognize him anywhere. I totally forgot that he's here on some j.a.panese comeback tour now that he's off the bad blood."

"Cool." I try to part the curtains again. "We should totally say hi. Do you think he'll remember me from the time he helped us with the werewolves?"

My sister pulls the curtains shut again. "No." "No, you don't think he'll remember?" "No, I don't want to say hi."

"But why?" I protest. "He's totally nice. Not to mention he's a vampire. He might know where we can get Jayden some blood."

Jayden looks up hopefully.

But my sister shakes her head. "I don't care if he's walking around with an IV blood drip permanently fused to his veins. We're not going over there."

I narrow my eyes at her. "Rayne, what happened in rehab?"

But before she can tell me to mind my own business, our curtain parts. At first I a.s.sume it's the waiter, coming back with the second course, but the piercing violet-colored eyes prove me wrong.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Bobbsey Twins," Race Jameson purrs in a velvety voice. "What on Earth are you doing here in j.a.pan?"

"That would be the McDonald twins and none of your business," Rayne retorts, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Aw, don't be like that, my little Rayney Day," he says as he plops down beside my sister. She scoots to the other half of the booth, as far away from the rock star as she can get. "I thought we were friends." "Yeah, and I thought the Tooth Fairy was real," my sister snarls. "Until, you know, I stopped believing in fairy tales."

"Um, actually the Tooth Fairy is real," I remind her. "In fact, Mom says she's our third cousin twice removed."

Race turns to me. "And there she is, the Sunshine of my life," he coos. "You're looking particularly fine this evening." He sniffs the air. "And you smell divine. What is that scent you're wearing?"

"Eau du fairy." I giggle, tossing my hair over my shoulder, feeling my cheeks flush with sudden heat. Mmm. Race Jameson is so hot. Sooo hot. With his razor-cut black hair and skintight leather pants and... those eyes. Those gorgeous, unnatural, glowing purple- "Uh, yo, Mr. Rock Star," my sister interrupts. "No vampire scenting my sister."

Race's blazing eyes dim instantly, as if someone turned off a light switch. He scowls. "Aw, come on, babe. I was just having a bit of fun."

I shake myself, my warm glow fading like Race's eyes, replaced by the itchy feeling of little creepy crawlies running up and down my arms. Is that what the vampire scent feels like? Yuck. I look up at Race. Okay, fine. He's still hot. But at least I no longer have the undying urge to crawl across the table and sit in his lap. So that's something.

"There is no fun to be had here," Rayne a.s.sures him. "At least not with my dear twin. Besides, I thought you were cured of that kind of thing. You know, twelve steps and all that?"

"I'm taking it one day at time," he growls in a throaty voice. "And hey, how do you know this is just a random blood grab, anyway? Maybe I want to make your sister my eternal blood mate. To spend every moment of my life wrapped in her loving arms..."

"You know, I should have just let you take a sip," my sister says, shaking her head in disgust. "Her Holy Grailtainted blood would have put you out of your misery for good."

Race holds up his hands. "Okay, okay, fine. I promise. No drinking from your blood relatives. But you still haven't told me why you're here in Tokyo. And if you don't, I'm going to a.s.sume you're stalking me like the rabid fan girl you are."

"Please. I'd rather stalk Justin Bieber."

"Oh, dear little Justin Bieber," Race croons. "If only I could get close enough to make him one of us. Tween girls for generations to come would forever be in my debt."

Rayne rolls her eyes. "Okay, fine. We're on the quest for the Holy Grail, if you must know."

"Uh..." Race raises an eyebrow. "The cup of Christ? You think it's here in G.o.dzilla land?"

"It was stolen," I pipe in. "And my friend Jayden here needs it." I motion to Jayden, who's been sitting, staring at the singer with awestruck eyes, which I'm hoping is due to the fact he's never been in such close proximity to a rock G.o.d before and not Race vampire scenting him on the sly. Though can vampires even vampire scent other vampires? I still have no idea.

"You haven't seen a group of Alpha flunkies hanging around the city, have you?" Rayne asks. "They'd be wearing red cloaks."

Race shakes his head. "Sorry," he says, actually sounding like he is, for once. "But I can keep an eye out for you." His upper lip quirks into a half grin. "Give me your phone number and I'll call you the second I hear anything."

"Yeah, right. You're not getting my digits that easy."

Race puts on a hurt look again. "Oh, Rayney Day, you slay me."

"If only it were that easy."

I shake my head. They can banter all night. But Jayden looks like he's going to pa.s.s out at any moment. "Look, Race," I interject, "Jayden here is in desperate need for blood. We came here thinking there was some kind back-door Blood Bar here, but we're totally striking out with the waiter. Can you help?"

Race grins. "Now, why didn't you just say so?" he admonishes Rayne. "While the Holy Grail is out of even my ill.u.s.trious, farreaching grasp, I can certainly hook you up with some blood. Just come back to my hotel room and I'll-"

"Absolutely not."

"Oh fine," he pouts. "There's a Blood Bar in this restaurant, yes. But it's highly protected. And they're not going to just let in any old vampire without going through the proper channels." He scratches his head. "But let me see what I can do." He rises from his seat and heads back over to the party table, whispering something to one of his companions. The girl, j.a.panese and utterly lovely, gives us a hard look, then shakes her head. Race whispers some more.

"It's lucky we found him," I observe, watching the scene.

"I could think of other words."

I turn to my sister. "What is it with the two of you, anyway?"

"Nothing. I just find him pretty much the most annoying vampire to walk the face of the Earth."

"But why? He seems so harmless."

"Sunny, don't be fooled. His bite is much worse than his bark."

Race returns to our table. "Okay," he says. "I talked to Suki. She says this Blood Bar's velvet rope is the tightest in town. Only celebs and politicians even have a chance. But she thinks maybe she can score you a guest pa.s.s to the Harajuku Bite Club tomorrow night. Can you wait that long?"

The two of us look at Jayden. He nods weakly. "I think so," he says.

"I guess we have no choice," Rayne adds. "So what, we meet back here?"

Race shakes his head. "The girls over there belong to the Cosplay Coven." He hands Rayne a folded piece of paper. "Here's the address. Suki wants you to meet them after sundown. They'll take you to Bite Club from there. Unfortunately," he adds, "I have a concert tomorrow night. I won't be able to join you."

"How tragic," Rayne mutters.

I look over at the girls, who are watching with curious expressions on their faces. "Are you sure we can trust them?" I ask.