"This is for you, Mandy! You self-centered b.i.t.c.h!" I bellow as I kick. "And this is for you, Mom! How dare you side with David over me! And David! You're not my dad, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d! And this is for-"

"Rayne! Stop it! Just stop it now!" Jareth cries. "Destroying your car is not going to help things!"

What does he know? It's helping a lot. And he should be grateful I'm not kicking his a.s.s instead.

He grabs me. I kick and scream, but he's too strong for me to escape. He may not have his vampire superstrength, but he's still a guy. I struggle to free myself for a few minutes, then reluctantly give up, suddenly weary of the whole ordeal.

I just want to go home. To my own bed. But I have no home or bed. I'm an undead creature of the night. Destined to roam the earth alone.

"Come on," Jareth says, loosening his hold. "Let's go back to the coven."

+++ The next morning I wake up in a beautifully carved four-poster bed. The room is richly decorated, with fancy jewel-toned paintings and a fire roaring in a mammoth stone fireplace. My head still feels thick and foggy, but at the same time I feel very relaxed. Almost drugged.

"Are you feeling better?"

The voice makes me turn my head. I realize Jareth's sitting at my bedside, reading some self-help book. He sets it down on the coffee table. "You had quite a fit out there, Rayne."

"Yeah, sorry," I mumble. Wow. In the comfort of this cozy room I'm feeling pretty dumb and immature about what I did. "I don't know what came over me. I was just so mad."

"I noticed," Jareth says wryly. "You have some issues you need to work out, my dear."

I sigh. "I know. I'm sorry. You must think I'm the biggest loser."

"Not at all." Jareth crawls into bed next to me and strokes my head. "You're just going through a tough time. It's natural for a new vamp to have some adjustment issues. You've got new hormones raging through your body. It'll take a while for them all to settle. It's a bit like hitting p.u.b.erty and it affects different vampires in different ways."

Great. So what do I have, PMS? Pre-Monster Syndrome?

"Well, I promise to be better behaved from now on," I say. "Really."

"I still think you need to see a counselor. We have a great one in the coven. He'll help you deal with some of your anger issues. Give you methods to control your rage."

Yeah, right. I'm so not seeing a shrink. "Uh, maybe. Sure. We'll see when I get back from England."

Jareth pauses, mid-stroke. "Um, about that," he says. "I think it might be better if I go myself."

"What?"

"You're in no shape to travel. I want you to stay here in the coven until you've seen the doctor and he's prescribed you some medication."

"No way! I can't take a mental holiday while the cheerleaders are running around eating people!" I protest.

"I think you need it," Jareth determines. "But don't worry. I'll go to England and get the antidote myself."

I struggle to sit up in bed. My cuts are all healed, but my head still hurts. "But it's my job. My duty. My destiny. After all, I'm the slayer."

"Rayne, you don't always have to be so tough. Relax. Let someone who loves you do something for you for once."

"No. I'm going and that's all there is to it."

Jareth frowns. "I'm sorry, Rayne, but that's not going to happen."

"You can't stop me."

"Actually, I can. I've set a guard outside this door."

"What?" I cry. I run over to the door and try to yank it open. It doesn't budge. "You've kidnapped me?"

Jareth rolls his eyes. "Oh, Rayne, stop being so overdramatic. This is for your own protection."

"But I need to go to England!"

"You don't. I said I'd go and I will. In fact, I'll leave tonight, just as scheduled. I'll get the antidote and bring it back."

"But what if you can't?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"But ..." I realize my protests are useless. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d isn't going to give in. I wander back over to the bed and slump into my pillows. I'm trapped here, helpless, while he goes and saves the day. Just because I happened to run into a guardrail. I'm not sick. I don't need help. I just had a car accident. I shouldn't be under house arrest for it.

Jareth's such a jerk. And he treats me like I'm a child. I bet Magnus never treats Sunny like that. In fact, I bet Sunny gets to do whatever- A lightbulb goes off over my head. Could it work? Could it really work?

"Jareth, you're right," I say, reaching over to take his hand in mine. I stroke his palm with my fingers. "I do need a little rest and recovery. And of course you can get the antidote without me. I mean, you're so big and strong and wonderful and all."

He looks at me, his eyes clouded with suspicion.

"And I'm so lucky to have you to take care of me," I continue. "You and Sunny. You're the best friends a vampire girl could have." I pause for dramatic effect, then add, "If only she were here right now. By my bedside. Keeping me company while you're away."

Jareth smiles, totally buying my act. Sucker. "Do you want me to send for her?" he asks. "I'd be happy to."

"Oh, would you, my darling?" I coo, looking up at him with round, innocent eyes. "I'd be forever grateful to see my sister in my time of need."

Jareth nods and pulls out his cell phone. I grin to myself. So he wants to play Daddy, does he? Well, get ready for a little Parent Trap.

14

G.o.d, my legs are cramped. Hiding in the airplane bathroom until we got over international waters seemed like a great idea at the time. Two hours later I'm not so sure. So I decide to take a chance. Hopefully we're far enough out that we won't have enough gas to turn back.

"Surprise!" I cry, jumping out in front of Jareth, who had been sleeping in the fully reclining leather seat of the coven's private jet. He jumps up with a start, his eyes wide as they fall upon me.

"Rayne!" he says, obviously fl.u.s.tered. "What-I mean how-I mean-"

"Why am I here, standing in front of you when I should be under coven arrest? What am I thinking coming to England instead of seeing the shrink? How did I escape your big, burly vamp guards and manage to sneak onto a top-secret, high-security vampire plane?"

Jareth runs a hand through his hair. "Urn, yes. I suppose all of the above."

"I'm here because you need me. I'm the Slayer. It's my job to find the antivirus and save the cheerleaders. And I'm not going to let anyone, including you, stop me from accomplis.h.i.+ng my mission."

Jareth sighs, slumping down in his seat. "Of course you aren't," he says resignedly. "I should have known."

"And as to how I performed my Houdini act of disappearing-"

"You used Sunny. Of course," Jareth says, not allowing me my triumphant explanation. "You left your poor twin a prisoner in the coven while you stowed away on an impromptu trip to England."

"She owed me. I covered her when she went to England last semester to go get the Holy Grail. Besides, she'll be fine. Like a vacation. Maybe they'll even allow Magnus in for a little conjugal visit. Not that she's made up her mind to have s.e.x with him yet."

"I should have guessed it wasn't you when she called me sweetheart," Jareth mutters. "And when she didn't bite my head off when I asked her if she needed anything to make her stay more comfortable."

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow. "Hmm. I told her to act mean and nasty. Guess she doesn't have it in her."

"And then there was that good-bye kiss ..."

I stop short. "Wait! What? Sunny kissed you?" OMG, she kissed my boyfriend? I'm going to kill her. I mean, it's bad enough she accidentally stole Magnus from me to begin with. She's so not taking Jareth as well. Even if he is an overbearing pain in the a.s.s. He's my overbearing pain in the a.s.s.

"Oh yes. Extensive makeout session, actually," Jareth says with a thoughtful smile. "I was actually wondering if you'd been practicing, you were so improved-"

I grab the air phone off its receiver. "Oh, I am so having a word with her!"

Jareth starts laughing and grabs the phone from my hand. "I'm kidding!" he says, looking pleased with himself. "She didn't kiss me."

I narrow my eyes. "Are you sure? You're not just trying to cover for her, are you?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Jareth says, still chuckling. "You know, Rayne, you're something else. You really are. I can't believe you managed to break out of the coven and onto the plane."

"The plane thing was easy. Just show up with a little bottle of blood laced with Ambien and the guard was down for the count."

"Well, you're creative, I'll give you that."

"So you're not mad?" I ask.

He sighs. "Not mad. Just. . . well, worried. It's not like I locked you up for no reason. I really do think it's for the best that you take some time off. Get used to being a vampire."

"I'm fine. Really I am. I just had a rough day. Too many people giving me a hard time. It happens to everyone."

"Everyone doesn't get into their car afterward and smash it into a guardrail."

"That was a total accident caused by lack of decent satellite radio stations. It had nothing to do with me being in a bad mood."

"Mmhm." Jareth doesn't sound too convinced. "You know, I still have half a mind to turn this plane around and drop you back off stateside."

"Oh, come on! Don't do that! I've been so looking forward to this trip. I want to meet all the English vampires. I mean, they're my peeps! And not in a weird, parasite-driven, Scott Westerfeld-novel type way, either. They're . . . well, they're my new family."

"Fine," Jareth relents. "But, please, I beg you, be on your best behavior on this trip. Remember we are representing our coven. The English vampires are very old and set in their ways. And we are their guests. We must be polite at all times. No flying into rages or telling them off. No matter what."

"Yes, yes, of course. G.o.d, what type of vampire do you think I am?"

Jareth grins wryly. "A Raynie type."

"And what, may I ask, is that?" I ask, hands on my hips.

"Unique. One of a kind." He grabs me and pulls me into an embrace. I allow myself to melt into his arms. He strokes my back. "Beautiful, stubborn, absolutely able to drive me crazy in two seconds flat."

"And?" I press.

"And the love of my unlife. Someone I never want to spend a day apart from."

"You'll never have to," I murmur, tilting my head upward. He smiles and leans down, kissing me softly. Mmm. I love this vamp of mine.

"I'm very glad to hear it."

15

After chatting for a while longer, we curl up on the plane's couch and fall asleep watching the surfing movie Endless Summer. (Jareth claims he only Netflixed it because he thought I wouldn't be along to complain and if he'd had any idea I'd be stowing away he would have rented the digitally remastered Nightmare Before Christmas collector's edition for sure.) I sleep well, for the first time in a while actually feeling somewhat content.

Sure I've still got problems. Cait's angry with me, Mandy's probably about to kick me off the squad, and my mother's ready to s.h.i.+p me off to my Vegas playboy of a dad so I won't hara.s.s her new boyfriend. Oh, and there's the car thing. Both she and Sunny are going to kill me when they find out I totaled it. (I sort of neglected to mention that to my twin when I was convincing her to trade places with me.) And, of course, my boyfriend thinks I need psychiatric intervention to cope with my vampire rage.

But cuddled up against Jareth, flying on a private jet to jolly old England where I will meet my undead brothers and sisters, find a werewolf antidote, and save the world again, I feel pretty darn good. Go ahead, life. Throw something at me. I, Rayne McDonald, can handle it.

I fall into a restful sleep, dreaming of Jareth and me walking into the English coven. It's decorated like some eighteenth- century ball and everyone curtsies when we enter. They announce us as Lord and Lady and we're seated at the head table, as guests of honor. One by one the English vamps approach us, bowing low and welcoming me to England. Vowing to spend their entire lifetimes, if necessary, to make sure I'm- "Get up, get up, you sleepyhead!"

What the . . . ? The dream fades as an obnoxious cry invades my ears. I roll over, pulling the afghan over my head. But Jareth will have none of it. He grabs the blanket, ruthlessly ripping it from my body, and starts tickling me awake, which, if no one's ever done it to you, is by far the worst way of being woken up in the history of wake-up techniques.

"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!" he says. Yes, these words actually come out of his mouth.

"Ugh. It's the middle of the night!" I protest, trying to squirm away from his fingers. "And we're vampires. We don't eat eggs or bakey." Not that it doesn't sound amazingly yummy right about now. But I'm so not going to admit that.

"I know," Jareth says. "Which is why I brought you some real breakfast." He holds out a squeeze bottle filled with red liquid.

"Ah, thanks!" I grab the bottle and suck through the straw greedily. Then I spit it out. "Argh!" I cry. "That's not my synthetic!"

Jareth sighs. "Sorry. But we don't have any synthetic on board. I didn't know you were coming, remember?"

I stare at the bottle. "So you gave me real blood? From a . . . real person?"