Arysmendi

If killing a spider is bad, it's nothing to killing a human - or something that looks like a human.

I didn't go inside my house when I got home. It didn't feel right to go inside. I was not expecting to feel like this after stabbing someone to death with a pencil - but then, they don't exactly have pamphlets for this in the counselor's office at school.

Sitting on the front step of my house, I tried to erase the image of Chrystal's shiny badge glinting in the darkness. I tried to block out the thought that the blood pooling on the floor was my doing. I even tried to forget her cool hand-movements as she worked the cash register.

Worst day ever.

Even sitting down next to the ridiculous jack-o-lantern my dad had carved for me before leaving on his business trip didn't make me feel better (which is a first because I have this thing for jack-o-lanterns).

I decided this was something I need to take to the police. Yes, I needed to turn myself in. I was a human being and I was not above the law. I would not stoop to the level of these vampires.

Cold sweat and nerves took over my thought process and I began envisioning myself alone in a prison cell and a vampire looking in through the bars. Didn't I need to be out there if I was going to hunt them down?

Not sure what to do, I started walking towards the bus stop. I'd go downtown. I'd tell them everything.

When people decide things in the heat of the moment - like, "If I walk away now, people will think the cat did it," or "Sure, I guess I'll go to prom with you..." - it usually turns out to be a huge mistake. Anything involving prom is a huge mistake.

It was past ten when I got to the station. I'd already ignored calls from my Mom and Chris (he probably just wanted to make sure I was practicing for the 'Big Night' concert - I wasn't. Obviously). No one in the station seemed happy to be there and certainly not to hear that I was turning myself in for murder.

They sent someone out to check the pharmacy and I found myself in an interrogation room with an older guy and a younger guy. Both wearing uniforms, both looked serious. One happened to be mildly attractive. Ignore.

The older guy sat down across from me and just stared. His beady eyeballs looked glazed over like a doughnut. The younger guy was pacing the back of the room. He seemed very excited to have been given this case.

"So you killed this woman?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Why come forward?"

"Because I feel bad."

"That's good to know. Can you tell me the name of the dead woman?"

"Chrystal. I'm sorry, I don't know her last name."

"And why did you kill her?"

I hesitated.

"Because she's a vampire."

The older detective raised an eyebrow rather sharply, but didn't shake his glazed expression.

"A...A vampire?" The young detective looked completely deflated. It's not fun working with someone you think is an idiot - I know. I have a whole group of them doing a history project with me.

Heaving a big sigh he asked, "You're sure?"

"Yes."

The older detective pulled himself out of the chair and motioned the younger one over. He whispered something to the younger man who promptly left and shut the door behind him.

"You seem like a good girl," said the older detective. "Have you been doing anything maybe you don't want to tell us?"

"...Like murder?" I asked.

"Like drugs."

"No."

"You think you've actually killed a vampire?" he asked, leaning forward. He had a name tag too, like Chrystal's only shinier. Arysmendi.

"I'm not crazy," I said slowly, though I knew that's how I sounded.

"I hate to tell you this," he said, matching my even-keeled pace, "but I think you might be."

He got up and left and I sat watching my reflection in the one-sided mirror. Was I crazy?

It was almost a half hour before the door opened again and the younger officer came in. He had my things...and my mom. She didn't look happy. I wondered how she'd look if she knew what I'd really been up to tonight.

"You're free to go," said the younger guy.

"But...I just confessed to a murder." I didn't want to say this in front of my mom. This was a lot worse than the time I had to tell her I backed Dad's car into our neighbor's porch...while they were still on it.

"We checked the pharmacy. No body. No sign of trouble. There was a large ink spill on the floor, but that was it," he said. Then added, "You should get some sleep."

My cue to leave. Mom's cue to grab me in a protective and we're-going-to-talk-about-this-later way that only mother's seem to know how to do.

She was quiet the whole ride home, except to tell me that it's a good thing Dad was out of town on business so she'd have time to cool off before telling him and to let me know part of my release terms included seeing the school counselor. Also, I was in big trouble.

Obviously.

We pulled into the parking lot and I asked if I could just sit on the step outside for a while. I promised I'd come in and I almost started to cry, saying I just need some air. She said, "Five minutes," and walked inside.

So here I was again. 2 a.m. Back on the front step of my house. Feeling like I can't go in. Next to this stupid jack-o-lantern.

"Hey."

I jumped and choked on my own spit, hoping it wasn't the jack-o-lantern talking to me before spotting vampire hottie.

"You can't sneak up on me, Gryffith!" I snapped. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

"It's hard not to," he said, walking into the light of the street lamp. "You have the sensory skills of like a blind mountain goat. Or you know, something that can't hear well."

Idiot. I was in no mood to banter words with this jock.

"What do you want?" I asked. "I'm all out of Emma facts for the night."

He sat down next to me. I kept forgetting what a massive person he is. Like seriously, enormous.

"I came because I thought you might have questions for me," he said.

What? Did he know? How could he have possibly found out? If he did know, why was he not upset that I had just killed a vampire? Assuming they all know each other (because Seattle is such a small place), they could have been friends.

"Don't think so," I said, trying to play off my surprise. "All good in the 'hood, bro."

Even the two hours in the city Police Department had not given me the street cred I needed to pull off that sentence with the casualness I was attempting.

He looked at me but his always-vacant expression made it difficult for me to decipher whether or not he believed my lie.

"Well, I think I owe you a fact," he said. "In order to become a vampire, you have to be bitten by one."

I looked at him condescendingly (it's one of my best facial expressions).

"Was that not a given?"

"Well," he stammered, "Some of these TV shows, you know. They get it wrong."

Like any normal human, I don't watch shows about vampires. They're stupid. Just like real vampires.

"I'm assuming there is a difference between being bitten and being eaten by a vampire?"

Now it was his turn to look condescending (an expression he was getting better at too - obviously he was spending too much time around me).

"I didn't think you were serious, you know," he said, standing up. "About killing vampires. But if you are, you may as well do it right. Like, messing up and stuff is just going to get messy."

This guy was as thick as they come - did he not know he was on my hit list?

"What makes you think I'm serious now?"

"Gailyn's girlfriend Alyssa told us you tried to kill Chrystal - the pharmacy chic."

"How does Alyssa know?"

"Chyrstal told her."

I stood up. "Dead Chrystal told Alyssa?"

"Well, shes not dead, Erin," Gryffith laughed stupidly. "How many times do I have to tell you? You have to be a vampire to kill a vampire."

Oh. Not dead.

Gryffith slumped into the darkness, his broad shoulders were the last to disappear. Somehow knowing that Chrystal was still alive and not murdered made me feel like I was allowed to go inside my house. I wasn't a killer, yet. Anyways, I was craving toast and peanut butter.

Chomping down on my midnight snack, beneath a watchful and still mostly furious gaze from my mother, it hit me.

Oh. I don't know why it hadn't clicked before. I had to become a vampire...

Chrystal

"How long do you think till one of them decides to eat you?"

Zack. Always to the point. 

"Well," I said, browsing the pharmacy isle looking for something edible but not too healthy. "I assume if I play my cards right I won't get eaten."

"Less powerful, not a trained-murdered and still unsure of how you to kill one...Yeah, I don't think you'll get eaten either."

Zack is the type of human being who is as sweet as the feeling you get when your only Friday class gets cancelled and yet, he is unable to communicate without using sarcasm or patronization. I ignore him a lot.

I scooped a bag of cheese puffs off the shelf and headed for the front of the store.

"I've got a system, Zack," I said. "Gryffith won't let anything happen to me as long as I keep feeding him info about Emma."

"That's a safe idea," he said. "Nothing like offering up a friend on the sacrificial alter of your own desperate pursuits."

"She'll be fine. Besides, we're not friends."

Zack put his peanuts on the counter and looked at me.

"I'll get my own," I said, waving my pocket change around. Like any broke student, I was proud of every doggone dime. He shrugged.

The thirty-something, dirty blond behind the counter reached for the peanuts, revealing a very tattooed arm.

"You know, it's not like this is the stupidest thing I've done, anyways," I continued, provoked by his silence. "And I can always back out if I want to. I can always decide I don't want to be a vampire killer."

The cashier rang up Zack and then took my cheese puffs. She had very fluid hand movements and counted change to a little waltz no one else seemed to hear. I thought that was cool. Who said a 'flipping-burgers' job has no class? My mom. Probably everyone's mom.

"Thanks," I said. We grabbed our purchases and took off.

I don't believe in over-exertion on weekends when it comes to homework. But I also don't believe in failing and as it had been a slow week in the productive department, I found myself scheduling a group project meeting on a Saturday morning. Zack and I showed up at the public library at 10:07 a.m. and found the rest of our group in the back.

Shockingly, (and by shockingly, I mean not surprising at all), Gryffith was the only one missing.

Emily Thompson and Emma - wearing bright pink lipstick and a red jumper - sat next to a window in the deserted building.

"Good to know our tax dollars are being well used," I said, joining the girls at the rickety table. Emily adjusted her glasses and looked at me.

"Glad you finally showed up," she retorted, obviously not trying to keep the disdain from her voice. Persnickety witch.

"Well, we're here now, so let's get started," I said.

"Who made you captain?" Emily cut in. Clearly, waiting seven whole minutes for me to show up had been too much for her fragile inner-clock.

"I did," I said. "When I was the only who bothered to get everyone's contact information and then call everyone up and then set up the meeting place. But, by all means, go for it. Your first job as team captain is to find out where the heck Gryffith is."

Emma raised her head slightly at the sound of Gryffith's name and Emily scrunched her nose unpleasantly.

Hearing no further objections, I continued.

"I think we should do a 3D timeline for the presentation and we can each take two decades in history to work on. Get the material we need and then meet back next week to put the board together."

Emily was filing her nails, trying to look like she didn't care that I was still in charge and Emma was doodling Gryffith's name on her notebook. I looked at Zack for help but he was thoroughly preoccupied with the table.

Then I saw why.

Please let my digress so I can complain about spiders. This will only take a minute. Nothing should be allowed to have more than six legs (and I only make this exception for six legs because I believe in Ladybugs). Everyone knows that spiders are creepy. But they're also incredibly small. You can't be scared of them without looking like an idiot, but let's be honest, NO ONE is not intimidated by them. It's a no-win situation in which everyone comes out twitching, embarrassed or dead.

The moment Emma saw the spider, she let out a shriek, followed by a series of lung-ripping screams. I wasn't about to challenge her "library voice" - it was all I could to do keep from going Fay Wray myself. Emily jumped backwards out of her chair, as did I, and Zack sat paralyzed in his seat.

"Squash it!" Emily shouted at me - suddenly she was totally OK with me being the leader of the pack. "C'mon, Erin, it's just a spider. Just hit it!"

She continued to pester me and Emma continued to scream and that big, brown spider continued walking in my direction.

All I could do was just think about its legs. I wanted to vomit a little just thinking about them. In hindsight I wish I had. I wish I had vomited all over bossy Emily and perfect Emma and under-zealous Zack.

"Use the book," I heard Zack say and I felt him slip it from my fingers. His initial paralysis had left him, lucky for us.

SLAM.

The spider was dead (obviously) and the book was no longer on my list of check-outs. (I'm not a huge fan of little spider carcasses speckling my reading materials). Emma had finally shut up and Emily gave me a look of complete disapproval.

"See you guys on Monday," she said, snatching her bag.

"Nice, Erin," said Zack. "I bet you'll be great as an assassin of the un-dead. Too bad you can't even slay a spider."

Of course, he was right - not that I would ever admit that to him in a thousand years. Or ever, for that matter. Furious with everyone, including myself, I stormed out after Emily, bumping into Gryffith on the way. He had arrived - late - to see Emma - obviously.

I spent the rest of the afternoon on my bedroom floor doing my part of the history project. I went a little overboard and several hours later found myself covered in glue and sadly out of glitter and black card stock.

It was already dark outside by the time I had de-glued myself and was ready to walk to the drugstore. The same woman from that morning was working behind the counter when the acorn-sized bell chimed above me. I gave her a smile. She was cool, after all.

The drugstore was completely deserted - it was almost closing time - so I wondered around the isles alone, humming dumb songs to myself.

I was in the school supplies section, next to the pencils and the sticky notes, when all the lights in the store turned off. Must not know I'm still in here.

"Hey, don't close up shop yet!" I called out. "I'm still in here! Sorry, didn't realize you were closing so soon!"

No one answered my half-hearted apology. In fact, there was no sound at all.

Complete stillness.

I will never know what inspired me to grab he sharpened sample pencil on the display in front of me, but I like to attribute it to my natural, self-preservation/undead-slayer instincts.

My fingers had not grasped the writing implement for more than a second when two strong arms had me from behind. A raspy female voice whispered in my ear.

"Vampire rumor mill says there's a new idiot in town."

This was a real vampire.

"If you're referring to me," I said, trying not to sound like I was about to wet myself, "then you're mistaken. I've lived here for years."

Her elbow was locked down on my throat and I could feel my face turning red and then slowly turn blue.

"Listen, I don't want to be enemies with anybody, but don't become a bother."

"I can't promise that," was all I could manage. Somehow this didn't seem like the right time to tell her I planned on killing her, though after the spider incident this afternoon, I was beginning to doubt my own awesomeness.

She shoved me against a stack of notebooks.

"Wrong answer, kiddo."

She was crushing my windpipe and it suddenly hit me how real this was.

"Are you killing me?" I asked. She held me there for a second before loosing her grip slightly.

"No," she laughed in my ear. "Because I don't actually think you're much of a threat. You're a weak human. You're a little girl. And you don't have what it takes to kill me. . . You don't want what it takes to kill me. . ."

My head was fogging up.

"I've killed people. I have to do it. A lot. And it's no fun during or after."

I felt her hands let go of my neck and the blood rushed back to my head, along with my boiling temper, frayed nerves and injured pride. And also the fact that one thing remained uncontested: she was a murderous vampire. So I turned around with the pencil firmly in my hands.

My forceful gaze met her unsuspecting one.

Plunge.

The wooden pencil went straight to her heart. Like a stake, but way smaller.

She seemed confused at first, then her eyes went blank and she fell backwards. Her pharmacy-issued staff shirt was seeping with red and even in the dark I could make out the name on her badge: Chrystal. I ran for the door.

...to be continued.

Alyssa

I think it's important to remind everyone that this is not a diary. This is not random expulsion of my confused hopes, dreams and teenage heart-wreck. I'm not trying to explain my worst fears or darkest desires. I'm just journaling my story: how I became a vampire slayer. There will be no heart-wrecking, I promise.

So there was Emma - still pretty, though slightly flustered and obviously still lost. She didn't greet me which I took to mean she had not forgiven me for our curt parting not ten minutes ago. She was sandwiched by two vampires - both total studs, as much as I hated to admit it. Whatever.

The deserted school hallway was our designated meeting place. The purpose of our meeting: unclear - Gryffith had never been a great communicator.

"Emma, do you know Erin?" asked Gailyn in a silky, unnervingly calm voice. His hand gestures looked rehearsed. But then, you can't live hundreds of years and still have original mannerisms.

"We're friends," I said, trying to verbally draw Emma back to my side. She looked at me doubtfully. I guess she had finally started catching on to my subtle hints that we definitely were not friends.

We weren't. I don't feel bad saying it. And I wasn't scared for her safety at that moment (that sounds harsher on paper than it did in my internal thought process at the time, just FYI). But Gailyn and Gryffith had put a player on the board that I hadn't been expecting. The game had changed. I was no longer in control. That did scare me.

I could hear the janitor buffering the floor above us and I knew we had to speed up the conversation. I needed to know how much Gryffith had told Gailyn about me. I needed to know how much he knew. I definitely needed to know how much he knew I knew.

"I hear you think I'm a murderer," Gailyn offered up before I could say anything. That answered at least one question.

"I've thought it," I said with a huff, crossing my arms accusingly.

"Why haven't you gone to the police?" asked Gailyn, sliding his penny loafers across the floor as he slithered in my direction. "Didn't even talk to the school principal? Are you afraid of something?"

"I don't have any proof," I said. "Yet."

"Tough spot, kid," said Gailyn. He walked even closer. I could tell he was wearing cologne. Not kidding, he was like a Seventeen Magazine male model on a scratch-and-sniff.

Leaning close to me he whispered. "I also hear you think I'm a vampire."

I didn't want Emma to find out about all this vampire business so I was really glad that she and Gryffith seemed to be absorbed in their own side-conversation which looked like it consisted mostly of seeing who could look the most dumb-struck and bashful. Gryffith was winning the dumb-struck hands down.

"I do," I said, returning to my own conversation. "And I'm going to kill you."

Gailyn stepped back and smiled at me patronizingly.

"Aw, sweet," he said, bringing one hand to his checkered sweater vest where his aorta should have been. "You think you can do what hundreds of failures thought before you!"

Then his voice turned serious.

"Humans can't kill vampires."

"Watch me," I hissed.

Gailyn's eyes flared with anger the way a teacher's do when they know you're right but they don't want to admit it in front of the whole class.

A bleeping from his pocket interrupted our spitting match. He pulled out his phone and let out a disgruntled moan. Spinning on his heel, he locked his eyes back on mine briefly.

"This isn't over, Erin." I hadn't planned on it being over, so I was okay with this threat.

"Mommy calling you home for din-din?" I asked.

"Girlfriend," he said, begrudgingly offering up the information. "Come on, Gryffith. Leave your toy alone. Alyssa wants us back at the loft."

I thought it might take a laser cutter to separate the intense gaze chaining Emma's massive eyes to Gryffith's rather small ones. But it turns out all it takes is a sharp tug at the elbow and a scathing look from a fellow vampire. Gailyn had his lesser companion following him like a punished puppy. . . I wished I had that kind of power.

"Come on, Emma," I said. "I'll show you the way out."

We walked silently off the school grounds to the curb where Emma's dad was waiting for her in his car. She hadn't said anything to me during our exit of the premises, but she did wave goodbye to me as she got into the vehicle. I didn't wave back.

Frustrated by how unsuccessful my first meeting had been and annoyed that Emma seemed to be mad at me - even more infuriated that I cared what she thought about me at all - I trudged my way to band practice.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Chris said as I opened the door to Mason's basement.

I muttered a 'sorry' and grabbed my guitar from the couch that Zack was sitting on. Zack didn't always show up to our practices, and when he did I don't think it was to listen to us play, but I'm pretty sure he wanted to see if I'd actually survive my afternoon frolic with the vampires.

Matt started a beat on the drum set, his loppy smile revealing braces. He whipped his head back, sweeping long, blonde bangs from his face. That was Chris' cue to start singing, which he did with concentration and sweat-soaked effort.

Band practice was the only thing that went right that day. Matt didn't miss a beat (not always the case for him) and Chris was nearly pitch-perfect. Mason's mom even brought down pizza and a half gallon of milk, ("If you don't drink it tonight, it'll probably go bad.")

Best of all, Zack got a text from his Uncle half way through practice and had to leave, so he didn't have a chance to run me through an inquisition about the vampires.

"Hey, Erin!" Chris called to me as I was leaving, "I really do think you need to practice that last piece more - it may be our opener at the 'Big Night' concert."

"I will," I shouted back, wishing it was still light enough for him to see me roll my eyes.

"And don't be late next time!" He yelled. I didn't answer.

Chris came from a good family. Both parents still married. One younger brother who was not a total turd. He was lucky. He was also super annoying and bossy.

"Erin."

I nearly lost balance as Gryffith appeared from the shadows.

"Don't scare me like that, Gryff," I gasped. "Jeez, what is your problem, man?"

"Sorry," he mumbled. I brushed my dignity back into place and continued walking. He followed.

"What'd you come here for?" I asked him.

"Came to get my one fact about Emma," he said. His slow way of speaking made him seem entirely unthreatening.

"I need my one fact about vampires first."

"Okay." He was clearly thinking hard. "Okay, I've got it."

He cleared his throat. "That garlic thing is a myth. Like totally." He was smiling stupidly as he said it, as if he thought it was funny how wrong the human population could be. "Everything smells stronger to us so garlic is like, 'like, whoa!' you know?"

"Seriously, Gryffith?" I said, trying to keep from sounding super mad. "I'm on a vampire hunt and you tell me about garlic? You are not getting an Emma fact for that one."

"Hey," he said, his voice like a stone - I had never heard him speak like that. "A deal is a deal."

I was a little shocked by how intimidating he sounded - not that I was scared. I totally wasn't.

"Alright, hold your horses, honey," I said. To be honest, I didn't know that much about Emma either. I didn't want to tell him anything he might already know and certainly not anything that would help him stalk her better. "I think she may be from Arizona. It was the state on her dad's license plate."

This seemed to be good enough for Gryffith. He smiled thickly.

"I still think you gave me a stupid fact," I said, a whine in my voice.

"You found out about Alyssa," Gryffith challenged. "Like, no one else knows she's Gailyn's girlfriend. You know, how else could he get girls if they knew he was dating a vampire?"

For some reason, I felt like an undead girlfriend would not be the only thing keeping me from dating Gailyn - or any other vampire.

"Great, so now I have another vampire to add to my hit list," I said. "Thanks a lot, Gryffith. Just what I wanted."

"Sure thing," he said, pulling up a picture of Alyssa on his phone for me to look at. Clearly he did not understand sarcasm. We would have to work on this.

Alyssa was gorgeous. Her high cheek bones and thin eyebrows gave her an air of distinction. It reminded me that my eyebrows needed to be trimmed. I mentally added it to my to-do list.

"Besides," Gryffith said, putting the phone away. "Gailyn really already gave the big fact away."

He had? How had I missed that? I gave Gryffith a questioning look.

"Humans can't kill vampires."

Gailyn

"You're a vampire, Gryffith."

Finally he made a sound. It was like a grunt or a snort. Not sure which. He swung his arms aimlessly and then spoke with all the command of someone lost in a shoe store.

"I didn't kill Amanda. Gailyn did."

A shocking new twist to my investigation left me open-mouthed and gaping like an idiot in the library study room where this tall, unreasonably good looking (who actually was an idiot) vampire had just confirmed my suspicions: he did not have the basic mental facilities to understand the weight of my accusation.

And he had thrust me deeper into mystery. Who was Gailyn? Why had he killed Amanda? Was he a vampire too?

I swallowed my questions like cold soup and looked into Gryffith's placid eyes. There was only one question I really wanted an answer to.

"How do I kill one?"

He must not have gotten the point of the question because his nose wrinkled slightly and his eyebrows burrowed in thought, like a rabbit going deep into a magic hole.

"Permanently?" he asked.

"No, just for fourth period."

Again, sarcasm was lost on him.

"Easy. Stake to the heart."

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Yeah, but it doesn't last long. It's like just a monopolizer because after a few hours we're okay again."

"Monopolizer?  Do you mean an immobilizer?"

Gryffith just stared back blankly. Too fast. We needed to slow down. Light was fading in the study room and I knew we had little time to finish this conversation. But patience would be worth it.

"So, you are a vampire? And this Gailyn is too?"

"Well, like. Yeah."

Good. This was progress.

"And a good 'ole stake through the heart is not permanent?"

"Yeah, like I said. It's just a monopolizer."

"Okay, I follow you," I reassured. "So how do you permanently kill one?"

I could tell the answer was on the tip of his pale lips, but before it could spill off, the door to our study room burst open and Emma stumbled in. Pretty-in-pink Emma, with the perfect everything.

"Oh, sorry," she said, slightly embarrassed by her blunder.

I suddenly had the feeling that she spent most of her life feeling unjustifiably awkward or embarrassed. She probably thought she wasn't pretty even though she very clearly was. My feelings of faint dislike for her arose again. From one average girl to another, the only thing worse than a pretty girl who knows she's pretty is a pretty girl who pretends to think she isn't. Those are the kind of girls that stupid boy bands sing about. Like One Direction. Stupid boy bands.

Before I could give her a reproachful look, her gaze caught mine and her face lit up like a Bunsen Burner.

"Erin, I'm so glad I found you!" I could tell. "I've been a little lost." Not surprised. "Mr. Hun said I should join your group for the history project he assigned last week. I came here to study but I'm pretty turned-around." Fantastic.

Gryffith has done a 180 and his back was now facing me. His soul-piercing eyes were fixed on Emma like a hawk stares at a bunny before it sinks its talons in.

"Great, I was about to leave. Give me your number and I'll call you," I said, shoving a slip of paper at her and a pen that was probably out of ink.

She took it from me, seeming not to notice her about-to-be stalker.

"Who else is in the group?" she asked me, ignoring my pen and using her own pink pen that had a fluffy feather at the end to neatly print her number.

"My friend Zack - don't think you know him - Emily Thompson, and ... him," I pointed.

Gryffith had not moved his eyes and now his mouth was hanging open awkwardly.

"Oh, hello," said Emma, apparently noticing him for the first time.

Their eyes locked. A small sigh escaped Emma's pink lips. Gryffith blinked. I wanted to be sick.

If only she knew what this guy was. But no. All she needed to know was that he was drop-dead gorgeous. Most men assume girls only go for boys they can "save." This is not true. Girls do not try to save ugly boys. Girls will date good looking guys who don't have issues. The common theme: girls are just as shallow as guys are when it comes to appearance.

They exchanged names and another long glance before the sound of a stack of books I knocked off the study room table snapped them back to the real world.

"I'll call you," I told Emma.

"Okay," she said, handing back the paper and walking away.

I watched Gryffith watch her.

"She's not lunch, you know," I said, packing my things. "She's a person. She has feelings. She is legally allowed to not be killed by the undead. She has rights. I will report you if you touch her."

"I don't date girls," Gryffith said suddenly. "The last one I dated I ended up eating. It was really sad."

Surprising. I had not expected him to open up to me so bluntly.

"Well, that's awfully thoughtful of you. I appreciate your self-restraint."

He held the door open for me as we left the study room, which I thought was nice of him.

"Do you want to meet him?" Gryffith asked.

"Meet who?"

"Gailyn."

"Why would you want to introduce me to Gailyn?" I asked suspiciously. "You know I'm just going to try to kill him, right?"

Gryffith laughed dumbly.

"You don't know how to kill us yet. You don't know anything about us. I bet everything you know is wrong."

I doubted that everything I knew was wrong and I felt a slightly chided being called stupid by Gryffith of all people. So I deflected his accusation that I was in any way insufficient.

"You're not answering my question, Gryff. Why do you want me to meet Gailyn?"

Gryffith got serious for a minute - perhaps for the first time ever? (It was a short minute).

"If I help you learn about vampires, will you talk to me about Emma? Fact for fact?"

"I thought you said you weren't going to eat anyone," I challenged him, raising my eyebrows the way detectives do on CSI when they don't believe their witness.

"I just want to ... you know. Know her. From over here. Because I can't love her from up close."

For a moment, I was almost convinced he might have a real heart and actually care about this girl. (It was a short moment).

But my desire to know and destroy vampires was becoming a little consuming, so I stuck out my hand. Deal.

I may have thought striking a deal with a vampire was a good idea on Tuesday night, but Wednesday morning I knew it was. Even if my friend Zack didn't agree. I was surprised he even believed my vampire theory, but then again, he was a sci-fi freak.

"You're selling your soul to the devil, Erin. I'm saying it right now."

"Say what you want," I said, throwing my notes from math class at him in a wad.

"Ten bucks says this Gailyn character sinks his fangs into your neck like a chew-toy." He handed back my notes.

"Let my mom know, will you?"

"Fine. But I will not tell Chris if you end up missing band practice. He calls me about you enough as it is. Since when did I become your receptionist, anyway?"

"When you started taking messages for me," I answered, smoothing out my crumpled math homework.

So I was set to meet Gailyn Wednesday afternoon, right after school. If all went well, I would not miss band practice and Chris and my mom would never know I'd been messing with the underworld of Seattle.

It was raining. I could hear footsteps along the corridor. Brisk strides echoed across the tile floor of the vacant hallway. My cell phone clock told me they were early. 3:22.

Holding my breath, I prepared myself to look into the cold eyes of a killer. I could hear them rounding the corner.

"Oh, thank goodness it's you!"

Emma.

"I've been lost again!"

Poor timing. If the wolves showed up before I got the sheep out of the pasture, there would be a change of menu for sure.

"Not a great time, Emma. You should probably go." I said it briskly. She took it hard. I watched her face fall and told myself it was for her own good.

She turned to leave and I heaved a sigh. Time to wait.

About five minutes later, my appointment arrived. Cocky and cold-blooded.

He was just as good looking as Gryffith, but his face was sharp and his smile was slick and his hair stylist was probably dead. Unkempt locks framed his golden-boy face like icing gilds a cake.

Gryffith was in-toe, and he was not alone.

"Gryffith found a friend," said Gailyn in a more sickeningly smug tone than I could have ever imagined. "She was lost."

...To be continued.

Gryffith

Of two things I was certain. First, that Gryffith, or someone close to him, had murdered Amanda. And second, that if he didn't start showing up to our group sessions, I would be forced to let Mr. Hun know that he wasn't pulling his fair-share of the assignment. I hoped the second would never happen. I really needed an A. Or at least a B+.

Could I confront him? On either issue. It seemed unlikely. Gryffith was, lightly put, stupid as H-E-double-hockey-sticks. Often, I'd watch him stare idiotically at some pretty face in the cafeteria, drool hanging from his parched, pale lips. Part of me wanted to buy him some chapstick. Part of me wanted to smack him over the head with our history assignment. Part of me wanted to know more.

"Hey you," I called in what was clearly not as antagonistic and cool sounding a way as I was going for. Gryffith picked his head up, drawing his caramel eyes away from a freshmen still in her volleyball uniform.

"Um."

Not my most brilliant follow-up.

I sat down at his table with a glower to match his.

"Hey listen, I really need an A on this assignment. Would be super helpful if you ... You know. Pitched in. Or, you know, something. Seriously."

His placid eyes flickered emptily and turned away again, those pale lips sucking milk through the straw in his carton. Milk is gross. It comes from cows. Chocolate milk is better. It comes from chocolate.

"I'm not kidding, man," I pleaded, raising my voice slightly to see if it would have any effect. It did. He stopped slurping and went for his tater-tots.

"Speak to me!"

"Not great with history," he said finally, with rolling tones to match the depth of an Olympic swimming pool and the obvious wit of a Ryan Lochte interview. "Like to forget the past."

"And I'd like to forget this conversation but I can't till we've had one. Are you going to help out or what?"

I waited for him to finish chewing. It took a while. Like maybe he had a fourth stomach. Like a cow. . . Chocolate milk. . .

"Yeah, sure."

"You will? You will help?" I nearly cried in relief. Grabbing my bags quickly, I stood up. "Library tonight. 5 o'clock."

He nodded his head of thick, wavy brown curls and returned to his meal.

Strange having a conversation with someone you think is a murderer. Especially about homework. Would he murder me? Would he be really bad at footnoting?

I was half-way through these thoughts when I found myself colliding into a very soft, very pink object that screamed shrilly and threw her books into the air. Completely unnecessary.

Tears. Immediately. Not sobbing tears but like, annoying ones.

"I am so sorry," she quickly and quietly assured me as I helped her pick up her books. "I'm new and I don't know the halls that well."

"Whatever," I assured her back. No. Stop crying, I silently begged through a clenched jaw.

"Emma," she said, hand extended.

"Erin."

Her hand was soft and small. No dumb jewelry. One good feature, at least.

"Thanks for helping with my books," she said. "I really appreciate it."

"Not at all," I said, starting to walk away.

"Oh wait! Um, do you know where this classroom is?" She pointed to a schedule. I cringed.

"I'm going there now. You can come with me."

"Thank you so much," she said effusively. Maybe it was to prevent her from talking, which I could tell she was about to do by the way she opened her mouth hesitantly and took a stalled but decisive breath, but whatever the reason, I said it.

"Did you hear about the girl that got killed last week?" Emma looked a little taken aback.

"Our age. Went to school here. Captain of the cheer squad. They say it was an animal attack." I watched her register this information and continued. "Her name was Amanda and she had just started seeing this boy from another school. He was a little creepy. His shoes were a little too polished last prom, if you know what I mean."

"How... How do you know how polished his shoes were if he's from another school? You wouldn't have been at the same prom."

Pretty and not totally stupid.

"I'm in a band," I said, dismissing her question. "It's kind of a thing."

"Cool."

I lifted my chin a little. "Yeah, it is."

So maybe this Emma chic wasn't bad.

Gryffith, however, was. I was still certain. Even if his unassuming demeanor at lunch did betray a naivety too great to be capable of murder.

He was late, of course. Waltzed into the library 5:30, no books. No bag.

"Sorry. Couldn't find the building."

Ignoring the fact that he clearly had never stepped foot inside the school library, I challenged him about his books. He shrugged his shoulders. His notes? Didn't have any. Was he planning to help? Could I rephrase the question?

"How did you do it?" I finally managed to shout.

I thought he looked puzzled. More than his usual vacancy, at least.

"How did you manage to kill someone when you can't make it to school with your shirt tucked in?"

There. It was out there.

"I know what you are," I continued when he said nothing. "I've seen you stare at people like they're food. You're the first one to the cafeteria after the bell but your classroom is at the opposite end of the school! No human is that fast. Or that strong. I've watched you break pens like they were pencils. And I know you don't sleep because your house light is always on, even at 2 in the morning when I come home from my shift at the bowling alley. . . Trying to save money for college. Don't judge me."

Still, he said nothing. He just stared at me. Or through me. Or maybe he was looking at the wall. I couldn't really tell.

"You're a vampire, Gryffith."

Finally he made a sound. It was like a grunt or a snort. Not sure which. He swung his arms aimlessly and then spoke.

"I didn't kill Amanda. Galyn did."

...to be continued.