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.