Edmond de Goncourt
The platform beneath me seems too small . . . too tight. I’m not one for a fear of heights, but having nowhere to turn other than the locked door in front of me and the steep, winding stairway behind, I’m less confident than usual.
Diable mewls at my feet—a grumpy, scolding sound.
“I’m trying.” My tote’s strap balances precariously on my shoulder as I juggle my phone so the flashlight app can spotlight the keyhole in the door. I work the key into place. The tote slides down, its weight dropping to my wrist and yanking the chain from my nervous fingers. The key clatters to the stone step beside my feline companion. He hisses in disgust.
“Yeah? Well at least I have opposable digits,” I grumble. “I’d like to see you unlock something.” His unimpressed green gaze blinks up at me, reflecting my phone light as I fumble for the necklace. “Oh, I forgot. You’re a ghost. You’ll just materialize on the other side, right?” I tease him with the dangling chain.
Diable bats at the key until it’s out of his reach. He then yawns, stretches, and saunters back down the long, dark stairway we wound through minutes earlier, his jingles slowly fading away.
“Typical tomcat,” I say as he turns a bend where my light can’t reach. “Happy to have a paw in the mess, but always turning tail when it’s time for cleanup.”
Talking aloud to myself is the only way to keep my nerves in check. I’ve had a miserable, albeit productive, day: Turned all my friends against me, made Kat drop out of the opera, and won the diva’s role in one fell swoop.
After the auditions, Sunny tried to talk to me once or twice, but I shut her down. I can’t tell anyone why I did it. If I admit the truth, Jax will forget that I’m a heartless opportunist and start questioning our kiss again. And Audrey will never go along with a setup; she won’t honor her understudy duties if she knows I plan to fake being too scared to perform on opening night. That role belonged to her from the very beginning; this was the only way to make sure she gets her shot.
Most of the day, I hid in my dorm, while the other students decorated the foyer, stairways, and the ballroom on the third floor for the Halloween masquerade tomorrow night. Laughter echoed outside my door along with the sound of my four friends horsing around. Hearing them, wanting to be with them, hurt more than I thought it would. I know they’re safer if I avoid them. But why did they have to be so great? And why did I let them into my heart?
Dinner was just as excruciating, eating with my aunt—who was silent for the first time in . . . well, ever—as far away from the other kids as I could get. With every forkful I craved something other than the salmon, almond, and eggplant salad on my plate. All the while I wished Mom was there, or Trig and Janine. But would they even know me now?
Then again, maybe Mom already knows. She always said I was my father’s daughter. Is that what she had in mind, when she told me to be something amazing? Something better?
I almost considered calling her today to feel her out, but changed my mind. As skeptical as she was about Dad and Grandma’s talk of auras and his superstitious upbringing, there’s no way she knew how deeply rooted in vampire mythology they were. It’s better she doesn’t. If she knew the truth, she would hate me as much as Grandma for what I did to Dad.
The edges of my eyes sting. After seeing how easy it is for me to drain people’s energy, I’m even more convinced that I’m responsible for him getting sick.
How am I supposed to live with that?
Blotting my lashes with my sweater’s sleeve, I take a last look at the empty stairwell, wishing Diable were still there.
I snuck from my room a few minutes after lights-out, Diable at my heels. I kept my phone off and felt my way around the dark foyer, tripping over a pumpkin and knocking Sunny’s Red Death phantom cutout to the floor. As soon as I repositioned the prop and was assured no one heard me, I lowered the roof key to Diable and let him sniff the metal. With a twitch of his whiskers, he pattered over to the edge of a mirror and dug at one corner until a loud click snapped the silence and the reflective plane swung open.