Sadly, my victory dance is short-lived. Mainly because Maverick refuses to look all scared and worried at the sight of the glowy stake. Even more so when he starts laughing instead of shaking in his boots. d.a.m.n it, what does a slayer chick have to do to get a little respect around here?

"Urn, you know, I'll kill you," I add, in case he doesn't get the message. Maybe he doesn't understand. When I show up, he should run. "I'm Raynie the Vampire Slayer."

This time, to my utter annoyance, his laughter goes from a small chuckle to a big rolling belly laugh. He raises his arm and suddenly the stake goes flying out of my hand and right into his. He catches it with ease and it stops doing the glowy thing and becomes just another piece of half-carved wood. He tosses it over his shoulder and it clatters to the ground behind him.

Great. Well, so much for that idea. Now what?

They say when you're in this kind of situation, your body gears up for one of two things: fight, or flight. Well, without my magical stick, I figure I'll be a pretty pathetic fighter, so I choose option B and turn tail.

Unfortunately, Maverick must have summoned some additional Vin Diesel-looking guards while I was waving my useless stake around and so when I turn, I turn right into them. They grab me and drag me, kicking and screaming, down the hallway and into a small, windowless room, complete with cobwebs and shackles. It screams medieval dungeon and you goths would love it.

Heck, I would have loved it, if I was not pretty convinced that the room was to be my death chamber.

I wonder if Jareth got out. Maybe he did. Maybe he can get help from the coven.

Maverick watches as his men push me into a wooden chair and then chain me to the wall. They're not gentle and the shackles pinch my wrists. Not that I'm much worried about bruising at this point. As long as my heart's still beating, I'm ahead of the game.

"You'll never get away with this," I shout, mainly because that's what you always hear people shouting in the movies when they're in an impossible situation like this. In the back of my mind, of course, I realize that more than likely he is going to get away with this. With all of this. In real life the bad guys do live happily ever after. If you don't believe me, take a look at my dad.

"And what, pray tell, do you think I will not get away with?" Maverick asks, folding his thin arms across his chest. He's wearing black leather pants, a vinyl fetish vest, and a velvet cape. A total Glamour "don't," let me tell you.

"Poisoning Magnus's people with your stupid blood-borne virus," I say. "We're totally on to you and know what you're doing. And we're going to stop you. Maybe not me specifically, but I am one of many."

"I see," Maverick says, stroking his goatee with his index finger and thumb. "Do you, by chance, know Rachel and Charity?"

At first I have no idea who he's talking about, then something reminds me. "Magnus's donors?" Fear grips my heart as I wait for what he's going to say next.

Maverick smiles a stereotypical evil villain smile. "Yes. Magnus's donors. Charming girls. We had them as our guests tonight at the Blood Bar."

"Why would they come to the Blood Bar?" I ask, trying to puzzle out the last piece. How come all these donors, who al- ready get bitten on a daily basis, are coming to the bar of their own free will? Why would they need to get sucked?

"Easy. Because they're stupid vampire wannabes, the lot of them," Magnus explains. "We forged some blood mate in- vitations from the coven. They think they're coming here to finally achieve their lifelong dream. To become vampires."

Ah. Pretty clever, though, of course, maniacally evil.

"And you poison them instead. And then send them back to poison their own vampires. You evil b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"You shouldn't keep dishing out these delectable compliments, my dear," Maverick says with a grin. "But, yes, the donors, including Rachel and Charity tonight, have all been poisoned. And as soon as Magnus indulges in his nightly meal, he will be poisoned, too. In a few days he will lose all his powers and thus be unable to run the coven."

"But why? What do you have against Magnus?"

Maverick shrugs. "Nothing, really. Except he's got my job."

"That's BS. It's his job. He's Lucifent's first sire."

"Sure, that's the nonsense he goes around spouting," Maverick says, squeezing his black fingernailed hands into fists. "But it's not true. I was Lucifent's first. But he disowned me back in the nineteenth century because of a minor unpleasantness."

I can't even begin to imagine what unpleasantness he's talking about, or just how minor it really was. But now I do get why Maverick is so out for Magnus.

"So if you're all h.e.l.l-bent on revenge, why not just go attack Magnus personally? This blood virus thing is a bit on the overly elaborate side, don't you think?"

"I had to create something that would weaken all of Magnus's forces, not just him. If I just killed him, some other annoying leader would step into his place. Like that weepy little moron Jareth or something."

Jareth. Even the name conjures up a small amount of hope inside of me. If he'd made it out alive he could go get help. Get the army to come and rescue me. I could live to fail at slaying another day.

"This way I will have slowly destroyed all his followers from within, before any of those idiots know what hit them. The Blood Coven will be in code red and I'll step in to guide them to a better future."

"And then I'll slay you," I say, trying to keep up the brave front.

He shakes his head. "No. You won't, because you will be dead."

Before I'm quite sure what's happening, he's on me, having crossed the room in a nanosecond, so fast my eyes can't follow.

He's close, pressing his body against mine, his sour breath making me turn up my nose. (Maybe the movie WAS right about horrid breath being a sign of a vamp.) He pushes my head to the side, exposing my neck, and leans in, his fangs digging into my sensitive skin.

I cry in anguish as the pain shoots like lightning through my veins, burning with unquenchable fire. It's like nothing I've ever felt. I grit my teeth and try desperately to remember Jareth's bite-the sweetness, the ecstasy-but all I can feel now is the scorching heat, like it's boiling my blood. I swallow hard, trying with all my might not to cry. I don't want him to see that he has won. Even though I'm pretty sure he already knows.

At least it doesn't last long. He wrenches his fangs out of me and I can feel warm blood seeping down my neck. It's gushing out and my hands are tied, so I can't put any pressure on it to stop it. For a moment, I wonder if I'll bleed to death.

Maverick licks his crimson-stained lips. "I've always wondered what a slayer tastes like. A lot sweeter than I expected." He pulls a vial out of his pocket and screws off the eyedropper cap. Squeezing a small amount of the vial's liquid into the dropper, he walks back over to me.

When I realize what he's about to do, I try to struggle, make my neck as difficult to reach as possible. But being chained, I don't have much leeway. He manages to empty the contents of the dropper into my gaping neck wound.

"There," he says, stepping back. "That wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

"What did you do?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"Hm, for a slayer you're not all that bright," he comments. "You've been infected with the virus, of course. In three days, you will die." He pats me on the shoulder. "And no, there is no magical antidote like you always see in the movies."

I'm suddenly cold, my heart slamming against my rib cage as reality sinks in. Oh, my G.o.d. I'm going to die. In three days, I'll be dead. I'll never make it to eighteen. I'll never graduate from high school. I'll never see my mother or sister or Spider again. I'll never see Jareth again.

"But don't worry, love," Maverick says. "I'm not going to keep you chained here for your last days. You'll be free to go." He motions to the two guards standing at the door's entrance. "Guards, release her," he says. "And escort her out."

Well, that was something, at least. I guess. I could say my good-byes. Hug my mother and sister one more time. I wonder if my dying days would be enough motivation for Dad to come by for a visit. I suppose if it didn't conflict with Bratty Stepchild #2's baseball schedule, I might have a chance.

Tears threaten to fall again and I bite down hard on my lower lip to stop it from quivering. I must stay strong. Let him think I'm fearless. Don't give him the power of seeing me weak.

The guards unlock my arms from their shackles and I gratefully get up from the chair. Maverick is still grinning maniacally at me, so very pleased with himself.

"They will crown me Master of the Coven," he crows. "When they learn I was the one who took down the slayer."

I stare at him, suddenly realizing exactly what I have to do. He's underestimating me. Underestimating who I am. I'm not just any old sniveling girl who will go quietly into the night to lick my wounds. I am the Slayer. The one chosen once in a generation to kill evil vampires.

I have a destiny. And it's time to fulfill it.

I close my eyes for a moment, searching for the strength I need. Concentrating, as Teifert told me I could. Trying to be Zen and all that.

And then I find it. Something lying dormant, deep inside of me. Almost like a big ball of light, straining against its chains, dying to be released. I squeeze my eyes and channel that light with all that I have inside me and suddenly I explode with energy and power.

I open my eyes. I am the slayer. Here me roar.

A quick roundhouse kick takes out one of the guards. The other I head b.u.t.t and then kick in the groin as he's reeling backward. I'm punching and kicking so hard, so fast, I'm not quite sure where my body ends and my target begins. It's like I'm on some kind of superhero autopilot.

And let me tell you, it rocks!

Having knocked out both guards I turn to Maverick. He's standing there, backed up against the wall, looking a lot less smug than before. "You can't kill me," he says, sounding a bit hoa.r.s.e. "You don't have your stake."

"Stake, schmake," I say, suddenly realizing something. "You ever see the movie Dumbo?"

He stares at me as if I have two heads. "Dumbo?" he asks.

I laugh, suddenly feeling in complete control of the situation. "Yeah," I say. "Dumbo's a flying elephant. But the thing about Dumbo is, he only thinks he can fly because he's got some stupid magic feather in his trunk. But turns out," I say, circling Maverick, hands raised in front of me, "he doesn't need the feather at all. He can fly all along."

"As charming as this Disney fairy tale is-"

"But don't you see, Maverick?" I interrupt. "I'm Dumbo. Well, except for the big ears. And the actual flying bit. Okay, maybe bad a.n.a.logy. But the point is, I don't need some special stake to slay you. The power is in me, not some chunk of wood."

And before Maverick can reply, I fluidly grab the chair, break off its leg and slam the piece of wood into his evil heart. He explodes instantly into a pile of dust.

Whoo-hoo! I am the SLAY-ERRR BAY-BEE!!!!!!!

I contemplate slaying the unconscious guards as well, but realize they may just be evil for the paycheck and now that their fearless leader has gone all "ashes to ashes" they may reform and become model vampire citizens. You never know.

The important thing is I did the job. I slayed Maverick. Fulfilled my destiny. Saved the day.

Yay, me!

But then my exultation dampens as I remember that while I may have saved the Blood Coven, I failed to save myself. I drop the stake and fall to my knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

I'm going to die. In three days I will no longer exist.

That totally bites.

29

TUESDAY, JUNE 12, 11 p.m.

Fangs for the Memories

Rayne! Are you okay?"

I look up, trying to focus through my tears. Jareth and another man rush into the room. Jareth throws his arms around me and squeezes me so hard I practically lose my breath.

"Rayne," he murmurs. "You're all right, you're okay. I was so worried!" He strokes my hair and kisses me softly on the cheek. "I got backup. I was coming to save you."

"Silly vampire," I say, laughing through my tears. "I'm the slayer, remember? I can save myself. Well, sort of. But we can talk about that later." Now is not the time to tell him about my swiftly approaching expiration date. We've still got too much to do.

I can feel his smile against my cheek. If only he knew, "Right. Of course. So you finally figured out how to wield your magical stake?"

"Actually, I finally learned that the stake didn't have any magic. When it comes to vamps, any old piece of wood will do."

Jareth pulls away, looking at my bleeding neck. I'm sure it's I nice and crusty-looking by now. "You've been bitten!" he cries, reaching out to touch the wound. I stop him before he does. The last thing I need is for him to get infected, too.

"It's okay," I lie. "It doesn't hurt."

"You have done well, Rayne," the man who entered with Jareth says. I look up in surprise. I forgot he was here. "Teifert will be pleased."

My eyes widen as I recognize the guy.

David?

Mom's boyfriend?

"You're ... but you're ..."

David laughs. "Yes, it's me, Rayne."

"But how ... ? Who . . . ?"

"I work for Slayer Inc.," he explains. He pulls out an official-looking Slayer Inc. badge to back up his claim. "As your guardian." "Guardian? I have a guardian?"

"What, did you think we'd leave you floundering out in the world alone on your first slay?"

"But why didn't you tell me? I thought you were a vampire!"

David laughs. "Is that why you tried to feed me garlic and squirt me with holy water when I came to dinner?"

Jareth raises an eyebrow. "You did what?"

I can feel my face getting sooo red. "Well, I didn't know he was my freaking guardian. I thought he was just some evil vampire Mom picked up in the frozen foods section."

David shuffles his feet. "About that, Rayne," he says. "I have to admit, I was told to get close to your family. To watch you and see how you do. Your first slay is a test. So we observe carefully. Anyway, I figured dating your mom would get me into your house, so I could get a better idea of your home life."

"That's a rotten thing to do," I interrupt, not at all happy about this. He may not be a vamp, but I'll find some other way to dust him if he's been s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around with my mom's head just to get close to me. "My mom really likes you. And you're just using her?"