This one guy standing over in the corner looks particularly foreboding. He appears fiftyish and is wearing a well-fitted black tux. Sandy-haired, high cheekbones, and an athletic physique, he has a sort of elegance about him that the other gaunt Blood Bar inhabitants lack. If I hadn't seen a photo of Maverick, I would have pegged this guy as the bar's owner, given the proprietary sense he exhibits as he surveys the lounge, arms crossed over his chest. But while he's definitely vampish, he's no Trent Reznor look- alike, so he can't be the big baddie we're here to find.

He catches me looking at him and gives me a small nod. Freaked out, I quickly drop my eyes. The last thing I need is to start drawing attention to myself.

"Do you have an appointment?" A sultry female voice behind me makes me turn around. A tall, voluptuous woman with long black hair to her waist has focused her huge violet eyes on me expectantly, a clipboard in her hands. She wears a crimson corset top and a long silky black skirt that's gotta be vintage or I'd so be asking her where she got it.

"I, um, do you take walk-ins here?" I stammer, caught off guard.

She frowns. "We certainly do not."

"Well, good. Because I, um, have an appointment." I squint down at her appointment book. Good thing I have excellent eyesight. "I'm Jane Smith."

She glances down at her clipboard. "Do you mean James Smith?"

Hm. Maybe time to see the eye doctor after all. "Yeah, that's me. James Smith. Evil parents really wanted a boy. Anyway, I go by Jane now. To my friends, anyway. Do you want to be my friend? I need more friends, actually. People to call me Jane."

She rolls her heavily made-up eyes. I know she doesn't believe me, but I've managed to annoy her enough that she just wants me out of her hair. Good strategy for dealing with teachers as well, by the way. Works every time.

"Fine, fine. James. Jane. Whatever. You're in room six." She gestures to the wall on the far side of the room. "Behind those curtains."

I swallow hard. This is it. I thank her and head to the back of the room, pulling aside the heavy velvet drapes. Behind it are ten nondescript doors, each with a gold number. I find room six and slip inside.

The room is dark, without any windows. The walls are painted black and thus suck out even the dim lighting given off by a few candles in the room. In the center is a big canopy bed with black linens. Even the floor has a charcoal-colored rug. Maybe they make it black so the bloodstains don't show as easily. The thought makes me a bit queasy and I close the door behind me and retreat to a wooden low-backed chair. What have I gotten myself into? This is totally Spooky World and I'm not just here for a visit.

Suddenly I realize the precariousness of my situation. I'm all alone in a vampire blood bar on the wrong side of town. And no one (besides Spider and I don't give Spider's rescue abilities much credit) knows where I am.

Some might call this a bad situation to be in. After all, I've got no plan. No idea what to do now that I'm here. What if I have to actually get sucked by some random gnarly vamp? What if I get some kind of awful disease? What if just sitting in here is infecting me?

Can we say Stupid, Rayne?

I take a deep breath, remembering what Mr. Teifert told me. The vamps here are all tested for diseases. I'm fine. I'm safe.

From that, at least. And I have my stake, in case I meet with any danger. I reach into my bag, examine the chunk of unfinished wood, then sigh and put it away. Sadly, that so doesn't make me feel any more secure.

And that's where I am right about now. After forty-five minutes of waiting, my anxiety level has gone down and my boredom level has gone up. This is worse than the doctor's office. Nothing much to do. I've already checked my e-mail, played Tetris, chatted with Spider on IM. And now I'm writing my blog.

Oh, wait! Someone's coming. Ooh, this is it! More later.

POSTED BY RAYNE McDONALD @ 8 P.M.

ONE COMMENT:

SunshineBaby says . . .

Rayne! Are you just making this stuff up to see if I'm reading your blog? You're not really a slayer, are you? I mean, you'd come tell me if you were suddenly a slayer, right? You can't keep something like that from your twin sister. Especially when the twin in question is dating a vampire. Which, I might add, is sort of your fault to begin with. Not to mention that the Blood Bar place sounds really dangerous. But I'm guessing this is just a joke to freak me out. I hope . ..

6

SAt.u.r.dAY, JUNE 2, 11 P.M.

Jareth

I 'm so getting my hair dyed black. Tomorrow. I'd do it tonight if I could find a drugstore that was still open. Just get a bottle of dye and dump it over my head. Something. Anything. Just so I don't look exactly like Sunny. Sorry. Getting ahead of myself here.

So last I wrote I was in the Blood Bar, waiting for the vamp who's supposed to suck me, right? And it was a long wait, let me tell you. But finally the door opens.

The guy who enters the room is nothing like the other vamps I saw hanging out in the sitting room. The half-starved, junkie looking ones. This guy, while definitely a vamp with gorgeous fangage, is like a Jude Law clone. I know! Drool, right? Seriously, the dude's got the same dirty blond hair, same beautiful blue eyes (though his are rimmed with black eyeliner-yum!), and high cheekbones. He's tall. He's lanky. He's wearing a black wife-beater tank and tight black pants. His buff arms tell me he clocks in mucho time at the gym, but at the same time, he's simply tone, not bulky and meatheady like the bouncer, Francis, had been.

In other words, he's the most gorgeous Goth guy I've ever seen. And he's a vampire, too. Which automatically makes him not a poseur, like, uh, some of you. (Cough, cough, DarkGothBoy.) Anyway, I'm all staring at him, totally and officially and instantly in love. I'm thinking, he can jump me, bite me, have his wicked way with me. Whatever his little black heart desires. He can take me on midnight strolls through ancient, ivy-walled cemeteries and kiss me senseless under the waning moon. Forget whiny, annoying Magnus. Sunny can have him. I want a blood mate like this guy.

"Hi, I'm Jareth, and I'll be your biter tonight," he mumbles in a deep, British-accented voice. OMG, yes! He's English, too!

Major w00t! At this point I'm thinking this guy is way too good to be true. I wonder if he already has a blood mate, but I can't imagine he'd be working in a place like this, if he did. Maybe he's a lost soul, waiting for the love of a pure heart to redeem him like you always read about in those Christine Feehan books.

I watch intently as he wanders to the far side of the room, not yet glancing in my direction. He lazily sinks into the bed, extending his arms spread-eagle across the width of the pillows. His movements are slinky, almost catlike in their grace. He closes his beautiful sapphire eyes and smiles the most seductive smile known to mankind, his fangs slightly protruding from his mouth.

Aha! Now we're talking.

I wonder if he's really as attractive as I think he is or if he's using the Vampire Scent on me. Vampires have this pheromone thing going on that makes them irresistible to humans. Probably how they rose to such power in this world. One grin and we're putty in their fangs.

"If you have any special requests, please tell me now and I'll do my best to accommodate you," he purrs in a throaty voice, shifting in the bed a bit, eyes still closed.

OMG, this guy oozes s.e.x. He's practically dripping with it. I so want to jump him. Even more than I wanted to jump Ville when I went to see H.I.M. last fall. And that's saying something.

I shake my head. No, no, that will never do. One, this vamp's not really interested in me; it's his job to turn me on. I don't want to be like the fat guy who falls for the hooker. Two, he's one of the bad guys, duh. So even if he did-for some unfathomable reason-take an interest in me, I so can't start hooking up with one of Maverick's men. Then I'd have to war against my sister and her BF and that seems kind of lame. Not to mention I'd be nanovirused by Slayer Inc. A lousy situation all around.

"Um, hi, Jareth," I say, realizing he's waiting for an answer to his special requests question. Not that I can think of any. Well, not that I should say aloud anyway. Hm, maybe I should at least introduce myself. "Nice to meet you. I'm-"

"G.o.d!" Jareth interrupts as his eyes flutter open and he looks straight at me for the first time. Though with that accent, it comes out more like, "Gawd."

"Uh, no," I correct, though not unpleased at the idea. I like this guy's style. "I'm not G.o.d. At least I'm pretty sure I'm not.

Though sometimes as a kid I used to pretend I was Aphrodite. You know, the G.o.ddess of love? But really, I'm just-"

"Your Majesty! What are you doing here?" he asks, scrambling off the bed and bowing low from the waist. "This is no place for you."

Oh-kay then. I stare at him, confused as all h.e.l.l at this point. Is this some kind of weird role-playing they do here? Creepy.

"Uh, no," I correct, "I'm not a queen or anything, either. I mean, sure, again, I wish. But really I'm just-"

"I know very well who you are, Majesty." His lips curl into a snarl, his blue eyes now a dark and stormy sea. He looks so angry. I take a cautionary step back. What have I gotten myself into? Does he know I work for Slayer Inc.? Is he going to alert the whole Blood Bar? Am I utterly screwed?

"Uh ..." I manage, not at my most articulate.

Jareth grabs me by the shoulders, his nails digging into my skin, his gaze boring down on me. I'm shaking like crazy and am this close to bursting into tears. Some cool slayer chick I am. The way he's got me pinned I can't even whip out my stake. "Why did Magnus send you? Does he not trust me to get the job done?"

What? I look up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time, Did he just say "Magnus"?

You know Magnus?" I ask, my voice totally croaky.

This could be bad. Very bad. Is my sister's boyfriend actually mixed up with the evils after all? Does this mean I have to slay him? Sunny will be so p.i.s.sed if I slay her boyfriend, baddie or no. But then, I guess in the long run I'd be doing her a favor, right?

Saving her from the Dark Side. Like when Luke killed his father, Darth Vader. Sort of. Okay, not really exactly the same. He gives me a strange look. "Of course. I'm General Jareth of the Blood Coven Army. But you know that."

"I do?" I rack my brains. Then realization smacks me up-side the head. Duh, duh, duh. "Oh! You think that I'm-"

"You know, I must say, I'm quite offended," Jareth rants, releasing my shoulders and running a hand through his hair. "I can't believe Magnus doesn't trust me. Sending his blood mate in to spy on me. And did he really think I wouldn't recognize you? After that night at Club Fang?"

"Dude, you have the wrong idea," I interrupt. "If you'd just calm down, I'll explain. I'm not Sunny. I'm-"

"Insulting. Unbearably insulting. I must go have a word with him this very second." Jareth pushes by me and heads out the door, slamming it behind him.

"I'm Rayne!" I cry after him. "Her sister."

He's so already gone.

I sigh, plopping down on the bed. These mistaken ident.i.ty things really need to stop. First there was the whole Sunny getting my blood mate and almost becoming a creature of the night, now this. Definitely time to dye my hair black. Or develop an eating disorder like one of the Olsen twins. (Though that would force me to give up French fries.) But I have to do something. Anything to keep me from looking exactly like my sister.

Especially now that she's the Vampire Queen and I'm the slayer.

POSTED BY RAYNE MCDONALD @ 11 P.M.

FOUR COMMENTS:

b.u.t.terfliQT says . . .

Wow, Rayne. I can't believe u went into that place by urself. Weren't you afraid they'd, like, kill u or something?

Rayne says . . .

b.u.t.terfli, we cannot all live our lives in fear. Some of us have destinies to fulfill. And, um, thanks for reminding me about the potential deathage. I really appreciate the support and encouragement. . . .

Anonymous. . .

Hey, Destiny Girl-you make yourself all high and mighty, but as far as I see it, you're still at square one. You haven't figured out anything about Maverick or his plans. You suck.

Rayne says . . .

First off, if you've got something to post in my blog, post it as yourself. Don't hide under anonymity. That's, like, way lame. Second off, this isn't some TV drama, where everything's solved in forty minutes between commercial breaks. Let's be realistic here. It's gonna take a few visits before I save the day. But never you fear, oh Anonymous One. I will succeed. After all, I am Rayne, The Vampire Slayer.

7

SUNDAY, JUNE 3, 10 P.M.

Jareth the j.e.r.k.-.o.f.f.

Quick entry before school as I didn't get to finish telling you the whole story last night. Was way too exhausted.

I leave the Blood Bar-not much more I can do tonight- and drive home. I'm exhausted at this point and just want to crawl in bed and get some shut-eye. But as I walk up the steps to the house, I hear a distinct psst coming from the bushes. I turn to look.

It's my sister, Sunny, hiding in a bush.

I scrunch my eyebrows. "What are you-?"

She puts a finger to her lips and motions for me to follow. She leads me across the front lawn and to an elegant black stretch limo I hadn't noticed parked across the street. I climb inside after her and shut the door. The driver, obscured by a smoked-out gla.s.s window, pulls out.

I look, around the limo. Whoa. Very elegant. Very vamp. The seats are crushed red velvet and there are crystal decanters filled with crimson liquid. Liquid I can almost guarantee is not some fine merlot. Something inside of me aches a bit. You know, it's so not fair that this is Sunny's life and not mine. I did everything I was supposed to and now she's reaping all the rewards. I should have the riches, the powers, the gothed-out limo. The hot blood mate.

Speaking of, Magnus is sitting beside Sunny, all decked out in Armani as usual. I can see why she digs the guy. He looks just like Orlando Bloom in Pirates of the Carribean. Long black hair, pulled back, deep soulful eyes. (Though that might just be a trick of the light seeing as the guy has no soul. . . .) I turn to my side and sigh when I see Jareth, the vamp from the Blood Bar, sitting next to me. Still dressed in his Goth best, a serious frown on his otherwise delish face. I sigh again. Great. He obviously sold me out. Sunny's going to be sooo p.i.s.sed I didn't tell her the 411 about the whole slayer thing before heading out.

"What's going on, Rayne?" Sunny demands. Dressed in flip-flops, jeans, and tank top, she looks so out of place in the elegant, Gothic vampire limo. Annoys me to no end the fact that she now belongs here more than I do, let me tell you. At least they didn't fit her with a crown or something. Though I guess technically she's not Magnus's queen unless they get married, right? Can vampires even get married? I can't re-member if that was covered in the training. I guess if they did it'd be more country club than church. . . .