Call of the Vampire by Gayla Twist Page A

was so grateful that Jessie had forgotten to retrieve his jacket. It was an excuse to see him again. I knew he said we shouldn’t, and I knew he was a vampire. All signs indicated that I should just forget he existed, but that would never happen. That metal string running through my body was vibrating, and there was no way to stop it. My entire being felt drawn to him in a way that didn’t make sense, even to me.
    Scrubbed clean, I wrapped a towel around my hair, slipped into my big terrycloth bathrobe, and headed for the kitchen. This was something I did all the time, and I wanted to appear as normal as possible.
    Mom was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. “Hey,” I grunted at her then stuck my head in the fridge.
    “Hey, yourself,” she said, not sounding too pleased, but not furious. “When did you come home last night?”
    This is my mom’s weird way of trying to catch me in a lie. It wasn’t very effective because she always phrased things so oddly that I could tell when she suspected me of something. “I didn’t. Remember? I stayed at Blossom’s,” I said, pulling out some orange juice and the butter dish.
    “Were you ever going to tell me that?”
    I shot her an annoyed look and then reached for the bread. “I left you a message. If you didn’t want me to stay, you should have called me back.”
    “Aurora, are you lying to me? I didn’t get a message from you saying anything.”
    I reached into my bathrobe pocket and retrieved my phone, then pulled up my list of recent calls. Her cell number was right at the top. “See,” I said, letting her have the phone. The fact that I never got through when I called while I was in the clutches of a vampire was not something I felt I particularly needed to share.
    Mom frowned at the phone. “I never got a message,” she said. “You should have called back and asked me directly. I was worried about you.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said, depressing the lever on our toaster and then circling round to give her a squeeze. “I was just hanging out with Blossom.”
    “Are you sure that’s all you were doing?” Mom asked, scrutinizing my face.
    “What else would we be doing?” I asked, trying not to lay my innocence on too thick. “Call Blossom’s mom if you need to check on me.” I was taking a risk saying that, but it was a calculated risk. Mom knew I would never suggest she call Mrs. Coster unless I was doing what I said I was doing. Also, there was a good chance Mrs. Coster wouldn’t answer her phone, and then my mom would probably just forget about it.
    “Maybe I should,” Mom said, biting her lip and giving me a suspicious look.
    I shrugged and went to retrieve my toast.
    I knew she’d decided against checking on me when she said, “Just stay in better contact with me next time. There are a lot of weirdoes out there in the world, and I don’t like having to worry about you.”
    “Okay,” I said, scraping some butter along the toast. “Sorry, Mom.”
    I wondered what my mom would think if I told her there was a family of vampires living in the castle down by the river. I sincerely doubted she would have believed me.
    “I was thinking about visiting Grandma Gibson this afternoon,” I said between bites of my breakfast.
    Mom perked up. “That would be nice. I’m sure she’d love to see you.” We both knew the likelihood of my great grandmother even recognizing me was slim. “What inspired this?”
    “I don’t know,” I lied. “Just thought maybe she was lonely. And it’s kind of cool listening to her when she’s actually... you know... with it,” I said, tapping my head.
    “I should probably go with you,” Mom said, getting up and putting her cup in the sink. “She’s so old, and she’s not going to be around forever. What time were you thinking of going?”
    I silently cursed, not having factored my mother into a little plan I had formulated in the shower. “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe