20

I feel like I've been crying for days. Curled up in the king-sized, four-poster bed at Appleby Manor, sobbing hysterically, barely able to breathe. Jareth took off soon after he made his p.r.o.nouncement, saying he would be staying in another room tonight and would meet me to pick up the anti-dote tomorrow morning. I begged him to stay, made a complete fool of myself with my groveling, but it did no good.

Night falls and I realize I'm starving. I consider room service, but then decide that it might be best to leave the hotel room.

Maybe I'll find Jareth in a local pub or something. Then I can talk to him again. Maybe he just needed some time alone. Maybe he'll forgive me.

Yeah, right, Rayne. Keep dreaming.

I choose a simple black dress from the wardrobe and pull it over my head. Then I slip on some black tights and a pair of boots. I don't bother with makeup and just throw my hair up in a ponytail. There's no one I want to impress here and, besides, there's nothing I can do about my puffy, tear-stained face and red eyes.

I lock the hotel room door behind me and head down to the lobby. I ask the concierge if he can recommend a place to eat.

Somewhere that serves burgers extra rare. He suggests several pubs, including the one the wolves hang out at. But I want to avoid that place-don't want them to see me in my current state.

As I'm walking to the second pub the concierge mentioned, I pa.s.s a cyber cafe. I decide to go in and write a couple e- mails. E-mails to other people I've p.i.s.sed off for no reason this past week. Maybe if I preempt them with an apology they won't write me off for life like Jareth has.

So I pay for an hour's worth of computer time, order tea, and sit down at one of the terminals.

Dear Cait: I know you probably bate me and I can completely understand why. I'm really sorry for what I did and promise you I only bad the best intentions-not that that excuses anything.

Anyway, I hope you are seeing a doctor for what we talked about before Mandy walked in. Whether you believe me or not, I really care about you and don't want to see you hurting yourself. I beg you, Cait, just go to the school counselor and ask them what you should do. I'm sure they can help.

I'll be back in a few days. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I'll help you in any way I can.

Love, Rayne

I press send and then continue on to e-mail number two.

Dear Mom: I'm sorry I blew up and pushed David. That was really uncalled for and I don't know why I did it. I'm going through something hard right now, I think, but it's not fair for me to take it out on you and David. I'm glad you found yourself a guy that you love and I hope it works out between you two.

I'll be home from Spider's as soon as we're done with our big school project. Probably tomorrow night. And I promise I'll be a better daughter when I get back. And I'm going to go see someone about my anger issues.

I love you, Rayne

I also write an apology letter to David. Then I write an update to Sunny (the one person I haven't p.i.s.sed off!) about the Lycan antidote and my clever cover story to Mom. I don't mention my breakup with Jareth. Some things are too painful to type into an e-mail.

After sending all the e-mails, I leave the cyber cafe and head to the pub for some food. I walk inside, saddle up to the bar, and start by ordering a pint of Ba.s.s. Might as well dull my sorrows with some alcohol. To my surprise, they don't even ask for my fake ID. Unfortunately, the beer itself is lukewarm and when I question the efficiency of their refrigeration, the bartender laughs and says something that sounds a lot like, "Dumb Yank," under his breath.

"It's a custom in England to drink one's ale at room temperature," says an English-accented male voice next to me. I turn to see a teen around my age sitting down next to me.

"That seems like a lousy custom," I say.

"I always thought so myself," the boy agrees. "Bartender, get us two Coronas." He smiles at me. "Not very English, but at least they serve them cold."

"Cool. Thanks," I say, taking a closer look at my bar buddy and realizing he's extremely cute and totally Goth. He's got long black hair, piercing blue eyes rimmed with eyeliner, and a delicate face with high cheekbones. He's long and lean and dressed all in black, down to the polish on his fingernails.

Great. I finally meet someone in England who won't think I'm a freak and I haven't made any effort to dress cool.

"I've not seen you around," he says, as the bartender hands us our drinks.

"I'm just visiting," I confess. "I'm from America."

"Ah, America. I've not had the pleasure of seeing your fine country for me'self," he says. "Though I've always thought it'd be a fantastic place to holiday. Go to Hollywood, see all the cinema stars."

I laugh. "Well, I live on the opposite end of America," I say. "Like three thousand miles away from any movie stars."

"I'm Orpheus," the boy says, holding out his hand. Wow, what a cool name. I guess I should expect that. Someone so beautiful could not ever have a normal name like Chris or Mike.

"I'm Rayne," I say, placing my hand in his. But instead of shaking it, he brings it to his lips and kisses the back of my palm softly. Just like knights in s.h.i.+ning armor used to do. How cool is that?

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Rayne," he murmurs, not letting go of my hand. I smile, feeling my face heat a bit. What am I doing? Sure this guy is hot and all, but I've been single for all of five minutes.

The last thing I need is to start hooking up with someone random. Not when my heart still belongs to Jareth . . .

I scan the bar, looking for my ex. He's nowhere to be seen. Too bad. Maybe I could have at least made him jealous. Made him realize that though we have our problems, the last thing he wants is for me to start hanging out with someone else.

"So what are you up to this fine evening?" Orpheus asks.

I shrug. "You're looking at it."

"Surely not. You're all dressed up. You definitely need a place to go."

"I'm not really in the mood for parrying tonight, actually," I say with a deep sigh. "To tell you the truth, I just broke up with my boyfriend."

"I'm sorry," Orpheus says in a sympathetic voice. "Though that's all the more reason to go out. To forget your worries and sadness. To have a good time and show the b.a.s.t.a.r.d you don't need him."

I think about it for a moment. Maybe he's right. Why mope around in a hotel room when I'm on holiday in England? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Do I really want Jareth to ruin it for me?

"What did you have in mind?" I ask.

"There's a rave out in the woods tonight," he says. "If you're into that sort of thing."

Ooh, a rave. A real, English rave. Am I into that sort of thing? I am, I am.

"Where is it?"

"I can take you, if you like. It's in the woods, not far from here."

Here's the point where common sense stands up and waves his little red flags in front of my face, reminding me that the guy's a complete stranger and I'm about to head out into the woods alone with him. What if he's an axe murderer? common sense demands. What if he wants to chop you up into little bits and feed them to his pigs?

My common sense can be way overdramatic. Which is why I barely ever listen to it. Instead, I remind it that I am a vampire, and thus immortal. The axe may tickle a bit, but it won't render me helpless. And he really doesn't look like a pig farmer to me. So unless the guy's got a wooden stake in his pocket (or is he just happy to see me?) I'm totally safe.

Unless this guy is actually Lone Wolf. The one who infected all the cheerleaders . . .

But no, that's stupid, I remind myself. Shantel said that guy was a total jock. Blond and beefy and Brad Pittesque. This guy is dark and thin and looks much more like Ville from HIM than Brad. There's no way it's the same person.

"Okay. Sounds like a plan."

I wonder for a moment if I should tell Jareth where I'm going. But I have no idea where he is or how to reach him. Not to mention he'll probably get all p.i.s.sy if I tell him I'm going to a rave in the middle of the woods. He's worse than my common sense when it comes to things like that.

The bartender comes over to drop off the bill. Orpheus plunks down a couple of brightly colored English bills and tells the guy to keep the change before I can even reach in my purse. Nice.

"If some surfer dude with a dumb Batman s.h.i.+rt comes looking for me," I tell the bartender, "just say me and my new friend Orpheus went to a rave. Tell him I'll be back by morning." There, that ought to cover me. By the time he starts looking I'll already be back.

"Ready?" I ask Orpheus. He nods. "Then let's go dancing."

+++ We're only out in the woods about ten minutes before I can feel the ba.s.s deep in my bones. A few minutes later I start seeing flas.h.i.+ng lights through the trees. I smile. Orpheus wasn't lying. There is a rave. And it sounds like it's hopping. I'm about to have a very good night. I'm going to dance and party and not think about Jareth for one second. Starting now.

We step into the clearing. There are probably two hundred kids here, all gyrating to a hard techno beat. A makes.h.i.+ft tent in one corner houses the DJ booth, and a large dreadlocked man wearing headphones on one ear masterfully spins the tunes.

They've got generators set up to run the flas.h.i.+ng, multicolored lights and there's even a refreshment stand serving water and juice.

"Wow!" I say, though of course my voice is completely drowned out by the music. "This is amazing."

Orpheus grabs my hand and drags me into the center of the action. We're soon enveloped in a pool of sweaty people- black, white, Indian, Asian, fat, athletic, Nicole Richie-thin. All together, dancing as if there's no tomorrow, no world outside this circle. It's as if they're one mind, one body, all serving a common purpose. All wors.h.i.+pping the techno beat. I'm totally digging the vibe already and I start dancing, determined to have a good time.

Orpheus beckons one of the dancers over and they talk in each other's ears for a moment. I can't hear what they're saying over the music, but watch as Orpheus gives the kid a wad of bills and the kid slips something in my new friend's palm. Hmm. I'm pretty sure I know what's going on here.

Sure enough, Orpheus turns back to me, smiling, and instructs me to open my mouth. I shake my head. One, I'm not really the druggie kind of girl. I'm mean, sure I've experimented, but only in safe, controlled environments, surrounded by friends.

His face falls and then he offers again. "Come on," he says. "It'll help you forget your troubles and just enjoy the night."

I hedge. I mean, technically I am a vampire. I'm immortal. The drugs won't hurt me. And it would be nice to just leave everything behind and float away in a drug-induced haze. All I've done lately is work. I mean, why did I become a vampire in the first place if I intended on living life the same way I always have?

But all the justification in the world won't reconcile that years of "just say no" that were beaten into me through televised PSAs as a child. And logic keeps reminding me that I'm out in the middle of the woods with a stranger. The last thing I need to do is lose my head.

"No thanks. I'm good," I tell him, though I'm sorely tempted to just say yes. "Let's just dance, okay?"

He looks annoyed, but stuffs the pills in his pocket and wraps his hands around my waist. His touch is electric and soon I'm lost in the dance, the music tickling my earlobes and the flas.h.i.+ng, colored lights seducing my eyes in a spell more powerful than any drug. For the first time in months I just feel good. Right. Enjoying the moment instead of stressing over every little thing. All my problems seem a million miles away. I'm here. Now. Happy. Forever.

Well, maybe not forever. But for now. And that's good enough.

Orpheus pulls me closer. We grind against each other, giggling as we gyrate to the beat. He's so s.e.xy. So cool. I'm totally in l.u.s.t. I try to summon up a guilty feeling for Jareth, who's probably sitting alone in his hotel room, watching infomercials or something, but the music prohibits any feelings of remorse. And in any case, what do I care what he thinks? He broke up with me.

His choice. So screw him.

We dance for hours, sucking down bottle after bottle of water. (Even vamps need hydration.) I meet several other ravers who hug me and welcome me and offer me lollypops and small toys and stickers. I feel like I'm part of some happy family that's invited me into their home with open arms. No one judges me here. For how I look, how I act, where I come from. They simply accept me into their hazy, drug-induced circle.

Finally Orpheus takes my hand and drags me away from the crowd.

"I need a break!" he says, laughing. "You're unstoppable."

We walk over to a raging bonfire at the corner of the clearing and sit down on the ground near it. I hold my hands up to feel its warmth. Orpheus gets behind me and starts rubbing my back. "Mmm, that feels good," I purr. "Don't stop."

"Stop rubbing the shoulders of a beautiful girl? Not b.l.o.o.d.y likely," he says.

I notice the darkness is lifting. The sky lightening to a bruised purple. It's got to be almost dawn. I look at my Nightmare Before Christmas watch. Four A.M.

"I've got to get back," I say, though the idea of walking anywhere sounds like such an effort at this point. The dance-fueled adrenaline is fading, draining from my system, sweating out my pores, and I'm suddenly feeling really gross. My skin feels clammy.

My head hurts. My stomach is sick. And mentally I've gone from sky high, to rock-bottom low.

What comes up, must come down.

What was I thinking? How could I have just taken off with a stranger, not telling anyone where I was going? What if Jareth came back to my hotel room? What if he wants to offer me an apology, say he wants to get back together, and then he realizes I'm gone? What if I missed my one chance for reconciliation?

I'm so stupid. So, so stupid.

"Don't go!" Orpheus begs. He stops rubbing my back and scrambles around to face me. He takes my hand in his and brings it to his lips once again, looking up at me with sad eyes. "I've had a lovely night. I don't want to lose you at the break of dawn."

I smile a little. He's sweet. Very Emo. Totally my type. If my heart didn't belong to Jareth, that is. But it does, I realize. And no matter what it takes, no matter how long, I have to get him back.

"Sorry," I say. "I have to. I've got things to do, people to see." Ex-boyfriends to reconcile with . ..

"But my love, what could be more important than us being together?" Orpheus asks.

Uh ... I stare at him. That came out a bit creepy sounding. But maybe he's just overdramatic.

"Sorry, dude," I say with a shrug. "It's been fun. And I'll never forget my first English rave. But I've got to go. I'm heading back to America this afternoon."

"I understand," Orpheus says, reaching over and pressing a cool hand against my hot cheek. I freeze as he lightly caresses my skin, wondering how to back away gracefully. But before I can manage to do so, the boy leans forward and presses his lips against mine.

Panic slams my insides. I can't do this. I don't want to do this. I don't care if Orpheus is totally Goth and hot. All I want is Jareth. Forever and always. Even if he wants to be a surfer dude for the rest of his life.

I gently push Orpheus away. "No," I say. "I can't. I'm sorry."

He frowns, sticking his lower lip out into a pout. "Why not?"

"I'm . . . well, I'm with someone. Sort of."

"I thought you said you'd broken up," he growls, his face darkening.

Argh. Now he's going to think I'm a total tease. Which I am, I guess. I should have never let this get so far. "We did," I say. "But I'm not sure it's for good. I really still love him. Being out here tonight made me realize that. Don't get me wrong-you're great. Totally hot and a lot of fun. But I'm just not. . . well, I'm not over Jareth."

"I see," Orpheus says, his voice ice-cold. "Well, I am sorry to hear that."

"I'm sorry. I really am. I feel bad if I led you on in any way."